"Real Madrid adjusted their tactics in the second half, assigning the breakthrough role to Robinho. With his excellent dribbling skills, Robinho repeatedly pressured AC Milan's defense along the flank!"
Aldo Cerella's tone was very serious.
From Robinho's several attempts, it was clear he was giving Milan's defense immense trouble.
Oddo couldn't fully contain Robinho, and although Ambrosini constantly tried to close in, he kept overextending his foot.
"Why are you sticking your foot out like that!"
Suker couldn't help but complain.
Seeing the defense gradually fall into disorder, he felt anxious.
Ambrosini also felt troubled.
He thought he could limit Robinho, but once matched up, he realized just how powerful Robinho's dribbling was.
At first, he tried to use positioning to block Robinho without fouling.
But Robinho forcefully broke through with explosive speed and sudden changes in direction, making Ambrosini struggle.
To stop the danger, Ambrosini resorted to early tackling.
But once he stuck out his foot, he realized Robinho was waiting for him to do exactly that.
"The flank has become Robinho's highway!" Suker complained.
He knew that once Robinho opened a gap on the flank, Milan's defense would collapse.
Once or twice could be defended, but after repeated attempts, conceding a goal was inevitable.
Suker frowned deeply.
At that moment, he saw a figure rapidly retreating along the flank.
"Kaká!"
Kaká actively dropped back to block Robinho.
His stance low, eyes sharply fixed on Robinho.
"Captain, help me cover!"
Kaká shouted at Ambrosini—he intended to mark Robinho one-on-one.
As national teammates, Kaká knew Robinho well, and lately had worked hard on his defensive skills.
He couldn't guarantee fully stopping Robinho, but with his speed, he could position himself or assist Oddo in defense.
Robinho was surprised to see Kaká retreating.
After all, Kaká was an attacking midfielder and usually didn't track back to defend.
"Does Kaká know defense?"
Robinho flicked the ball sideways, pretending to sprint down the wing.
If it were Ambrosini, he might have fallen for it—he simply couldn't match Robinho's acceleration.
But Kaká held his ground inside, blocking key positions.
Their challenge was clear:
"Let's race!"
Bang!
Robinho pushed the ball forward and sprinted, Kaká quickly twisting to chase.
They ran shoulder to shoulder, pushing against each other.
Kaká tried to keep Robinho behind him, while Robinho tried to break free.
Just as they approached the ball, Oddo appeared first, intercepting and passing it to Nesta.
"Well done, Kaká!"
Oddo praised Kaká.
Kaká didn't respond and immediately turned to attack.
He knew his job wasn't just defense.
Wingers needed to run up and down the flank, defending and joining attacks.
Kaká charged forward fiercely.
Suker watched Kaká's run and shouted, "Pato, make a run behind me!"
Then Suker dropped back near the midfield line to receive the ball.
Pirlo slid a pass to Suker, who controlled and turned, immediately shooting a curved ball.
"A rainbow pass!"
Aldo Cerella shouted.
The ball curved between Cannavaro and Heinze, rolling ahead of Kaká's sprint.
"Great pass!"
Kaká thought, accelerating.
Reaching the ball, Kaká swept a cross into the box.
It was an inverted triangle pass, but—
"Damn it! You ran too far!"
Suker shouted angrily.
Pato clearly ran too deep but flicked the ball upward with his right foot's instep.
Pepe, Salgado, and Cannavaro surrounded Pato, and even if he controlled the ball, shooting was difficult.
But Pato's flick sent the ball over Pepe's head toward the far post.
Seedorf looked up, stepped lightly, adjusted, and struck as the ball bounced down.
The ball skimmed the ground toward the left corner.
Real Madrid's goalkeeper Casillas was distracted by Pato and failed to save.
Everyone could only watch the ball fly into the net.
GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!
"What a counterattack! Kaká's interception, Suker's pass, Pato's imaginative play — all combined for AC Milan's second goal!"
The Bernabéu crowd held their heads in despair.
They were already down a goal, but conceding the second was even more devastating.
That young Milan player, number 7—was he really that fierce?
Pato stood stunned, staring at the net.
He got an assist!
"You lucky bastard!"
Suker laughed heartily, slapping Pato's back.
Pato blushed, arguing, "No way! I planned to pass like that!"
Suker didn't buy it.
That flick was meant as a pull-back for himself to shoot, but unexpectedly turned into a perfect assist.
"Nice pass, kid!"
Seedorf ignored the details and draped an arm around Pato's neck.
Now they led by two goals.
"At 76 minutes, Real Madrid conceded their second goal. Their performance today was awful. We had chances but failed to capitalize."
Robinho's efforts were good, creating several dangerous breakthroughs.
But Real lacked a clinical finisher.
They lacked someone like Suker to finish chances decisively.
Raul once was that man, but now he was past his prime.
In Bernabéu, AC Milan players cheered, celebrating their impending victory.
An away win meant huge leverage for their success.
In Real Madrid's VIP box, Florentino's face was grim.
This was not the match he wanted to see.
They were Real Madrid — the club with the most Champions League titles, a world-class powerhouse.
But look at this game.
The idiot Calderón ruined the club.
"Humph!"
Florentino snorted, downing his wine glass to calm his fury.
"How's the contact going?"
He asked his aide.
"He's hesitant but leaning toward us."
"Step up the effort. Give him whatever he wants."
Florentino's tone was full of anger.
"I can't let that idiot Calderón keep ruining the club."
The aide lowered his head in silence.
In fact, Florentino had already started moving.
He was bribing Calderón's assistant and secretary to expose Calderón's electoral fraud.
The votes were suspicious back then.
But that was during Florentino's lowest point, when Calderón stole the presidency.
Now, Florentino was preparing a comeback.
Everything was being set up slowly, brewing.
When the time was right, he would strike like thunder and remove Calderón from the presidency.
"Sir, Real Madrid is increasing efforts to sign Suker."
The aide suddenly reported.
Since falling out with Ronaldo, Calderón began aggressively pursuing Suker.
Suker or Ronaldo had to join Real Madrid to fulfill campaign promises and boost Calderón's chances in the next election.
"If Suker sides with Calderón…" the aide hesitated.
It would be unpredictable then.
"Don't worry!"
Florentino waved off the concern.
Despite limited contact, he understood Suker's character.
Not only gifted in football, Suker planned his future wisely.
Such a person was incompatible with Calderón's kind.
More importantly, Florentino knew he was the one who could bring Suker future and glory—not Calderón.
That was the key reason Suker would choose him.
He was confident.
Bang!
Watching Raul kick the ball into the stands, Florentino slammed the table.
"He's old!"
Florentino's voice carried a strange emotion.