March 19th marked the arrival of the EFL Championship's 38th round, the last of the month.
After this match, they would enter the 'National Team Match Day' break, to recuperate and prepare for the intensive schedule of the April sprint.
Kevin Systrom and his co-founder Mike strolled through the streets of Sheffield City, having arrived the day before. They hadn't told Maël, planning to contact the player after watching today's game.
Actually, they had already learned a lot about Maël on the internet recently, and were basically clear about everything about him.
But for two tech nerds, taking a trip to England to experience the football atmosphere was also a good thing.
"The media estimates his salary should be over Thirty Thousand Pounds."
Mike, recalling a report he saw this morning, said expectantly, "If he's already saved Three Hundred Thousand Pounds, then we can totally use a combination of capital and resource investment to get him involved."
"It depends on whether he has Three Hundred Thousand Pounds, and if he's willing to invest it."
"Don't get your hopes up too high." Kevin Systrom was more rational, shaking his head, "I see he's had two salary increases, and the latest one was not long ago, he shouldn't have that much money."
On the other hand, he was actually unwilling to admit or believe that an athlete much younger than himself possessed far more wealth than he did.
As a graduate of Stanford Bridge with a degree in management, Kevin Systrom taught himself programming while working in the marketing department at Nextstop after graduation, and later successfully developed a software, receiving $500,000 in angel investment and reaching the peak of his life.
He felt he was a genius.
Apart from Bill Gates, Zuckerberg, and other business prodigies, few people were more outstanding than him.
What was he doing at 17?
Now someone was saying that a 17-year-old player possessed a huge amount of wealth and could potentially become their investor, which naturally made him feel uncomfortable.
"We lack money."
Kevin Systrom looked at Mike, adding, "But we're not that short of money. Don't think about taking advantage of everyone you meet. Giving him a little bit of equity is fine, we do need to leverage his influence."
Mike nodded to show he understood, saying nothing more. On closer thought, Systrom's words made a lot of sense.
After walking for a while, the two gradually approached Bramall Lane Stadium. A noticeable change occurred: fans wearing red and white striped jerseys began to appear along the streets, and the fervent singing grew louder and louder.
"Feeling a bit excited?"
Mike hadn't been out for a long time. Feeling the atmosphere of the game, he laughed, "I haven't watched much football, but I watched a lot of baseball as a kid, and even played for a while."
"Me too."
Kevin Systrom smiled, his mood aligning with the game, "Let's see what kind of performance this first star we've contacted can bring today."
The two, holding tickets they had bought in advance, queued up for ticket inspection and entered the stadium, sitting in Section A Stand, very close to the field.
"Beep!"
On the field, with the referee's whistle, the match between Sheffield United and Middlesbrough kicked off at Bramall Lane Stadium.
"Bang!" After only two passes at the start, Sheffield United defender Steven kicked a long pass, aiming for Bologanovic in the center, but the latter failed to win the header.
The game started like this, with both sides showing a strong desire to attack. No one wanted to embarrass themselves in the last game before the holiday.
"Pass! Pass to me!"
"Switch! The weak side is open, oh, too late!"
"Think faster, be more alert!"
The players' shouts echoed on the field, the competition in this game was very intense.
In the 9th minute of the match, Sheffield United took the lead in creating a good opportunity. Maël on the left wing made a Cut Inside feint, scaring the full-back into quickly shifting his steps, but he went to the byline instead!
He used his left foot to send a curved ball towards the center from the byline. The landing point wasn't precise, but it gave Bologanovic a chance to compete for the header.
"Bang!!"
Using his height and jumping advantage, Bologanovic finally headed the ball, forming a shot on goal. The goalkeeper made a desperate save to push the ball out of the baseline.
Corner kick!
"Ah," Bologanovic squatted on the ground in regret, pounding the turf a few times.
Maël silently ran to take the corner kick. The enhancement of his left foot made him feel much more comfortable when kicking the ball, giving him more options.
He was already satisfied that the ball, passed with his left foot, had created a shooting opportunity.
"Bang!"
The ensuing corner kick caused chaos in the Middlesbrough penalty area. Ultimately, the goalkeeper, seeing the situation was dire, took a risk and dove towards the ground, snatching the ball into his arms and ending the attack.
In the 16th minute, Sheffield United's opportunity came again. Bertrand, on the wing, overlapped Maël, and after a series of passes on the flank, he joined the attack in the center.
"Snap!" Gilbert, with the ball, suddenly sent a perfectly weighted through ball, piercing the Middlesbrough defense.
Bertrand cut inside from the flank, meeting the ball and using his left foot to shoot it towards the far corner, a low drive!
"Swish!" The ball passed the goalkeeper's hand and slid into the net, sending the crowd into a frenzy! Goal! One-nil!
"Haha!"
Bertrand laughed and ran towards the sideline, performing an impressive sliding knee celebration. He didn't get many chances to score in a season, so he tried to use the coolest celebration possible when he did.
After the goal, Middlesbrough intensified their attack, launching a frantic counter-attack in the minutes after the restart, creating a wave of offensive pressure.
Unfortunately, so close yet so far, they failed to score.
"Bang!!"
It wasn't until the 38th minute that their striker, MacDonald, took a casual long-range shot, causing Sheffield United's goalkeeper, Robert, to fumble, and a real opportunity presented itself.
"The goalkeeper fumbled! Mark Bates! He's battling Maguire for the ball, and he gets there first! One-on-One, shot!
"One-one!!"
Mark Bates celebrated around the field. After celebrating on the sideline, he ran to the bench and high-fived the coach, expressing his gratitude for the trust placed in him.
The first half ended like this. After the return for the second half, both sides made some personnel adjustments, all aimed at strengthening their attack.
Neither side wanted just 1 point! They were going all out for 3 points! "Bang!"
"Bang!!"
Shot after shot rang out as the two teams traded blows, creating numerous chances, but no goals were scored.
Then, in the 71st minute, Maël dribbled the ball from the wing in midfield all the way towards the center, disrupting the opponent's defense.
"Maël! He's still dribbling, getting close to the right wing. No one from Middlesbrough can keep up with him horizontally. Defenders are stepping out one after another to defend, the defense is a bit chaotic! He's on the right wing now, doesn't seem like much of an opportunity, he has to pass!
"He's facing the center, still wants to try something, is he going to continue dribbling and break through?
"A through ball forward! The ball goes behind the Middlesbrough defense, the speed is right, and it even seems to have a curve! Oh! Evans bursts out, the ball just reaches his forward run!
"What a pass! Everything is perfect, without a single mistake! Evans is in the penalty area, he has to take advantage of this assist. A push towards the far corner!! Beautiful!! Two-one!! I still have to praise Maël's pass. If this ball is passed too slowly, it's easy to be intercepted, if it's passed too quickly, it's easy for the goalkeeper to catch! Even if you do both of those things well and pass a straight ball, it's still unlikely to break through the defense! His exquisite passing technique is something other EFL Championship players don't have, maybe that's why he's number one on the assist chart!"
On the field, Evans, who scored the goal, quickly joined up with Maël. The two rushed to the side of the field, jumping and supporting each other, slapping each other in celebration, very happy.
"Oh!!" The home fans roared, countless people stood up, waving their arms.
"Well done, Evans!"
"Great pass too!"
"Maël! God... I've been sitting here for thirty-seven years, and I've never seen anyone pass like that."
They shouted at the players with all their might, hoping the lads fighting for the club could hear their praise.
After this goal, Middlesbrough began their comeback attempt again, with anxiety gradually spreading, and their actions started to become more aggressive.
In the 84th minute, Evans made a mistake and kicked the ball straight out of bounds. The ball was already out, but a Middlesbrough player came over and slammed into him, who was completely unprepared.
"Bang!" The sound of physical contact rang out, and Evans fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder and stomach, wailing in pain: "Ah!"
The referee had just seen the ball go out of bounds and was turning back, not seeing the incident.
Hearing Evans's wail, he turned his gaze to the linesman on the sideline, hoping to get some guidance.
But the linesman probably didn't see it either, turning his head away to avoid his gaze.
He still didn't blow the whistle. It's a small matter not to call a foul, but it's a big deal to call a foul when there wasn't one. If he wasn't sure, it was best not to blow it.
That wasn't the end of it. In a subsequent defense against Janu Hans, Middlesbrough midfielder Matthew Bates repeatedly made harsh tackles, aiming straight for Janu Hans's ankles.
"Bang!"
He first kicked Janu Hans hard from behind, and when he saw that the other person didn't fall, he continued forward, tripping and kicking Janu Hans repeatedly.
Janu Hans, perhaps fueled by anger, resisted twice without falling, stubbornly gritting his teeth to break through, determined to humiliate his opponent.
Matthew Bates refused to let go, extending his foot again with a vicious stomp, heavily nailing his cleats onto Janu Hans's foot.
"Ah!" Janu Hans's wail was even louder than Evans's; he clutched his ankle and fell to the ground, finally unable to withstand it.
Matthew Bates's repeated malicious fouls successfully ignited the accumulated anger of the Sheffield United players, and the scene of the match spiraled out of control at this moment.
"What are you doing! Son of a bitch!"
"Bitch! Watch your legs!"
"Go to hell!"
Sheffield United players from all directions rushed to the scene, even goalkeeper Robert charged over, and the two sides began pushing each other, the atmosphere instantly becoming intense.
"BEEP BEEP BEEP!" The referee blew his whistle urgently, but couldn't stop the two sides; no one paid attention to him anymore.
"Look at your players, anyone who knew would think they were players, anyone who didn't would think they just got out of prison!"
The conflict wasn't just on the field; off the field, Gareth Speed and the opposing coach were going at it. "A bunch of lowly mudsills, they really are fucking crazy barbarians!"
"What did you say?!" The Middlesbrough coach angrily walked towards Gareth Speed, who didn't back down and directly stepped forward, rapidly closing the distance between the two.
The assistant coaches and substitute players on both sides had already stood up. They had been cursing to support their teammates when they saw the conflict on the field, but when they turned their heads, they saw their own coach going to war with the opposing coach.
"Go!"
"Don't let them bully the boss!"
A new round of melee started from here, opening a second battlefield, and this wasn't even the last.
In the fan zone, fans sitting near the South Stand and the east and west stands picked up the water bottles and hot dogs in their hands and threw them at the opposing side, regardless of anything.
The security guards tried their best to stop them, but they really couldn't, and they were so angry that they wanted to join the fight themselves.
The conflict lasted for more than two minutes before slowly stopping, leaving Kevin Systrom and Mike, who were sitting in Section A Stand, dumbfounded.
"Oh my god."
Kevin Systrom's eyes were full of disbelief; he didn't expect to encounter such a scene as soon as he arrived. "The sports atmosphere in England is really intense."
"I'm quite excited." Mike looked eager to try, only regretting that he wasn't sitting at the intersection of the two fan groups.
"Will there be a goal?"
Kevin Systrom adjusted his sitting posture; this experience was indeed quite novel, and he still wanted to see a goal happen.
"There will be."
The one who answered him wasn't Mike, but an old fan next to him, who said with a faint smile, "Watch, Maël will give them a good look with a powerful shot. When a counterattack is needed, he will always stand up."
"So sure?"
Kevin Systrom looked at him, and out of curiosity, he chatted a bit more, "What is his influence in this city equivalent to?"
"Sure."
The old man nodded, then thought about his question, and finally replied, "A prince. Oh no, he is the king!"
This could be
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