Chapter 54: A Stadium in Uproar
Kevin Foley looked a bit downcast when he learned he was being subbed off.
He had always known what his weakness was.
Yang Cheng and the coaching staff had tried their best to help him, but some habits—some ways of thinking—were deeply rooted in his cautious nature and hard to change.
But replacing Foley with Piszczek shocked everyone.
Wasn't Piszczek a forward?
With only 15 minutes for halftime, players had even less time in the dressing room. Yang Cheng had no time to explain things slowly.
He quickly praised Lass Diarra for his outstanding first-half performance.
"In the second half, push your pressing zone higher. You can press all the way into their 30-meter area. But remember—once you win the ball, pass it immediately. There will always be a teammate near you."
Having just been praised, Diarra was all smiles and nodded enthusiastically.
Yang Cheng gave him another look and added, "If you win the ball in that area and pass it to Ribéry, Kitson, Ashley Young, or Modrić, I'll count it as two tackles."
Diarra's eyes lit up, and his black face broke into a wide grin, showing off his pearly whites.
Everyone in the locker room knew about his family background. No one minded his obsession with money.
And the bonus came out of Yang Cheng's own pocket anyway.
"Ribéry and Ashley, keep rotating as planned. Switch flanks, combine with the full-backs—we must activate both wings!"
The two wingers nodded in sync.
Only by stretching the play wide could they open up the middle.
Yang Cheng checked the time. Everything had been said.
"Alright, guys."
He clapped his hands loudly, drawing all attention.
The players were ready, geared up and eager.
"We did well in the first half. It's still 0–0, but in terms of chances and control, we were better—against a Premier League team!"
That label—Premier League—was fuel to the fire for his squad.
"Trust me, they're running on fumes now. Just holding on with what little energy they have left."
"If we can get one goal in the second half…"
"Just one goal!!!"
Yang Cheng was shouting at full volume, his neck veins bulging.
"Trust me! If we score first, this game is ours. They'll fall apart!"
"Let's go!!!"
He clapped and hugged each player as they headed out the tunnel.
When it came to Piszczek, Yang Cheng held him back.
They walked toward the pitch together.
"Łukasz, no matter where Ashley or Franck is, you must push forward. If they cut inside, you overlap. If they overlap, you cut inside. Got it?"
Piszczek nodded hard.
He could feel the weight of the moment.
"Don't worry, I believe in you. You're not just an average player—you've just not found your real position yet."
"Believe in me—and in yourself."
Piszczek turned to look at his coach, eyes full of resolve, and nodded again.
…
The second half kicked off.
It was Piszczek's first time ever playing as a defender.
He didn't even know how to play the position.
Had never trained for it.
Earlier, in the tunnel, he had asked José Fonte what to do.
The Portuguese defender had grinned, "No worries. If you lose the ball, win it back. If you can't, just sprint back and keep the shape."
"Don't stress—we've got your back."
Even with those words, Piszczek couldn't help but exhale deeply.
How could he not be nervous?
Bayswater Chinese resumed their aggressive play.
Though Piszczek was technically a winger, he was now playing right-back, a like-for-like switch. Portsmouth didn't react much—assuming Foley had picked up a knock.
In the first few minutes, the team continued to focus their attacks down the left.
That had always been their strength—let Ribéry use his dribbling and flair to destabilize defenses.
Piszczek got a few touches, mostly recycling possession.
But he was watching.
At the 49th minute, Yang Cheng wasn't satisfied and called Modrić and Huddlestone over—time to switch sides.
Attack the right!
More passes began heading to Piszczek's flank.
He didn't think—just received, passed, ran.
Then Yang Cheng shouted from the touchline, gesturing for him to go forward.
Piszczek nodded, though he wasn't sure when to go.
Then, in the 53rd minute.
The ball reached Kitson at the edge of the box. He held off a defender, couldn't turn, and laid it off to Ashley Young on the right.
Young received the ball with his back to goal, feinted toward the touchline—but the defender read it.
He had to pull back.
Just then, Piszczek saw Portsmouth's No. 26, Gary O'Neil, closing in—looking to trap Young on the wing.
In that moment, he bolted forward.
"Here!" he shouted.
Young heard him, spotted the run, and without hesitation, played the pass.
Piszczek, clever as ever, had cut inside, moving between O'Neil and left-back David Unsworth—creating a narrow gap.
He didn't just receive the pass—he kept scanning.
Modrić was cutting into space. Kitson was still at the top of the box.
Suddenly, a picture formed in Piszczek's mind.
As he trapped the ball, he angled toward the middle, drawing a defender.
Then he released a through ball, threading it perfectly behind the defense.
Modrić met it at the edge of the box.
The Croatian looked ready to drive in—but instead, when defenders converged, he faked and laid it off to Kitson at the arc.
Kitson turned, ready to shoot—but De Zeeuw blocked it.
The ball rebounded and rolled leftward.
A blur of red surged in—didn't even stop the ball—just planted his left and smashed it with his right.
The shot screamed over the crowd, past the keeper, and into the net.
GOAL!!!!!!
"53rd minute! Bayswater Chinese break the deadlock!"
"Franck Ribéry with a stunning strike from just outside the box!"
"1–0!"
Loftus Road erupted.
Ribéry turned and sprinted in celebration, followed by the entire team.
Over 50 minutes of deadlock—finally broken!
…
"Beautiful work!" Yang Cheng cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled.
"Stay focused! Keep pressing! Don't slack!"
He turned to see Brian Kidd grinning from ear to ear.
"That run from Piszczek—absolutely crucial," Kidd said.
If he hadn't made that move, Young might've lost the ball—or just played it safe.
"Of course. He's a winger!" Yang Cheng smirked.
Piszczek was a smart player. He learned fast.
Now that he'd had a great start, the rest would fall into place.
More minutes, more confidence.
He wouldn't resist playing right-back anymore.
Just needed to polish up his defending.
…
Just as Yang Cheng had said during halftime—
Once Bayswater scored, Portsmouth fell apart.
Premier League team or not, they were being outplayed.
And now, they were rattled.
Zajec gave no instructions, made no adjustments—letting panic spread.
In the 59th minute, Diarra struck again—stealing the ball off Berger from behind.
He carried it forward and played it to Modrić at the top of the box.
Modrić didn't stop it—just sliced a killer ball through the backline.
Ribéry made a diagonal run, took one touch, pushed it past the keeper—
2–0!
Loftus Road exploded again.
No one expected another goal just 6 minutes later.
Zajec finally reacted, subbing off Unsworth for attacking midfielder Mezague.
That screamed desperation.
Five minutes later, he swapped strikers: Yakubu in for Ricardo Fuller.
A do-or-die move.
But it was already 2–0.
And Portsmouth's spirit was broken.
Yang Cheng responded with targeted changes.
Push the right side harder.
Without Unsworth, the left flank was soft.
Now Kitson had space.
In the 82nd minute, it paid off.
Piszczek overlapped, played a slick one-two with Ashley Young.
Young whipped in a cross from the right edge of the box.
Kitson stormed in and powered a header into the net.
3–0!
Another eruption.
"Unbelievable!"
"Bayswater Chinese have completely turned the tide in the second half!"
"And right-back Łukasz Piszczek has been electric—activating Ashley Young, creating space."
"Two of the three goals came from the right!"
"Yang Cheng's halftime substitution was perfect—timely and effective."
"Meanwhile, Portsmouth… well, Zajec looks like a man out of his depth."
And Bayswater weren't done.
In the 88th minute, De Zeeuw fouled Kitson outside the box.
Free kick.
Ribéry stepped up. Shot just over.
He missed his hat trick—but no matter.
Final score: Bayswater Chinese 3, Portsmouth 0.
Ribéry brace. Kitson header. Piszczek revelation.
Loftus Road was on fire.
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Canserbero10