After signing with AC Milan, I will be the king of football!-Chapter 1680 - 459: Mourinho’s Sacrifice

"In the 13th minute of the match, Cristiano Ronaldo scored directly from a free kick to give Real Madrid the lead."

"Mourinho is quite excited, haha, is he running over to provoke Guardiola?"

Mourinho swung his arm like a windmill and hopped toward the position in front of the passage.

The fourth official, fearing that Mourinho might hit him, instinctively retreated a few steps into the field, turning his head to watch Mourinho’s movements.

Guardiola forced a smile on his face.

He realized that it was a bit rash to mimic Mourinho at the previous press conference.

"Pep, aren’t you going to argue with him?"

Clemente complained indignantly: "It’s just a goal, no need to exaggerate."

"Never mind, it’s okay."

Guardiola said.

"You’re not angry?"

Clemente asked curiously.

"Why would I be angry? José and I are good friends."

Guardiola said, forcing another smile.

As soon as Clemente turned around, Guardiola threw the water bottle in his hand to the ground angrily, and kicked it for good measure.

Bang—

Guardiola was stunned the next second.

He quickly ran to Real Madrid’s bench, rushing over to apologize to Mourinho, who was holding his head: "José, I didn’t do it on purpose."

"It’s alright, I’m not angry."

Mourinho said with a forced smile, rubbing his forehead.

"Really? I don’t believe it!"

Guardiola said directly.

He knows Mourinho’s character too well.

"Then what do you want me to do?"

Mourinho said irritably: "Do you need me to dance a bullfight to prove I’m not angry?"

"Alright, alright."

Guardiola said awkwardly: "I hope what’s happened recently won’t affect our friendship."

"Of course!"

Mourinho squinted and said.

As soon as Guardiola turned to leave, Faria leaned over to Mourinho and said: "José, don’t be fooled by him, he did it on purpose!"

"Of course, I know!"

Mourinho nodded and said.

Guardiola is just that petty.

[Belgium National Team] I guess.

"The two coaches were quite entertaining today."

"Yes, besides the duel between Master Ka and Fat Ancelotti, they were interesting."

"Guardiola is still a bit behind. Mourinho, at least, has an enterprising spirit and even made it on TV for buying a crystal ball. Doesn’t Guardiola learn anything?"

"Learn what? You mean he should get some incense marks on his bald head?"

"Hahaha, don’t say that, it’s actually a good idea. That way, when he holds Fahai’s tool, he’ll look quite the part. No head coach has the presence of Boas either."

"I’m still watching Chelsea’s matches now. Chelsea is really strong. Ancelotti is on the sidelines assembling his machine, Boas is chanting spells with his wand on the sideline; it’s a strong alliance indeed. No coaching team in football can compare to Chelsea’s."

"Why aren’t you discussing the goal?"

"What’s there to discuss? The goal is just an opportunity for Huang Kaiwen to show off."

Huang Kaiwen walked toward the center of the pitch with his teammates.

Benzema came over and said: "Kaiwen, I was all set to transfer to Chelsea, but then you returned to AC Milan."

Chelsea has many forwards, but their styles are different from his.

Benzema is confident to compete with others.

But the competition for forward positions at AC Milan is too fierce, even if he wants to play alongside Huang Kaiwen, he has to admit that his agent is right, becoming a starter at AC Milan is tough.

Ibrahimovic and Torres are both playing well, and even if the coach changes, it’s unlikely they’ll suddenly use him.

Moreover, AC Milan doesn’t have a strong desire to bring in strikers, so he ended up at Real Madrid.

"Real Madrid is great too."

Huang Kaiwen said with a smile: "Who knows, you might win the Ballon d’Or at Real Madrid."

Whether it’s Calderon or Florentino, they’ve maintained good relations with UEFA.

Big club legends often become UEFA officials or ambassadors, giving them an advantage in such aspects.

"I’ll give it my all."

Benzema said with a big smile.

His molars were showing.

He didn’t expect Huang Kaiwen to fancy his chances for the Ballon d’Or.

Returning to the center circle afterward.

Ibrahimovic asked unhappily, "Kevin, do you really think he can win the Ballon d’Or?"

"You have a chance too, Zlatan."

Huang Kaiwen said.

After all, saying nice things doesn’t cost anything.

Yellow Ball King never hesitates to praise others.

Being able to encourage others is a good thing, even if it doesn’t fill them with motivation, it can at least create a good mood.

Mr. Huang is just that kind-hearted.

Ibrahimovic nodded contentedly.

Huang Kaiwen gave Torres a thumbs-up.

Not leaving anyone out.

Kroos looked at Huang Kaiwen eagerly, and Huang Kaiwen found it amusing, saying, "Toni, you really can’t do it, you know it’s hard for midfielders to win the Ballon d’Or, plus your style doesn’t score many goals."

Kroos wore a sour face, knowing that Huang Kaiwen was speaking the truth.

Huang Kaiwen continued, "But even if you don’t win the Ballon d’Or, I still think you’re one of the best midfield organizers, even now that you’re young, you’re still great."

"I’m not as good as you say."

Kroos said somewhat embarrassedly.

"Go for it!"

Milan restarted the game, passing the ball back directly.

Having just scored a goal, the Real Madrid players were very active, directly rushing up to press.

As soon as Pirlo got the ball, he passed it back to the defense.

Thiago Silva didn’t dare to play with fire in the penalty area; he chose to pass to a more advanced teammate.

This precise pass found Torres behind the midfield.

But as soon as Torres trapped the ball and turned, he was brought down by a sliding tackle from Marcelo.

"Intercepted! This time, it should be the ball first."

"Yes, Torres didn’t hurry to start; he probably didn’t notice Marcelo behind him. Marcelo immediately passed to Ronaldo in front."

Ronaldo attracted the defensive attention of most Milan players.

Inevitably, Milan’s formation tilted towards the wings.

Guardiola noticed this situation from the sidelines, wanting to shout a reminder but afraid the players might get distracted and give the opponent an opening.

He could only watch from the sidelines, covering his mouth.

"Watch the center!!!"

Huang Kaiwen ran back desperately.

The teammates were all focused on Ronaldo, but no one noticed Lampard, who ran from the right to the left to respond.

At that moment, Ronaldo made a reverse triangle pass to Lampard.

Lampard, without stopping the ball, smoothly pushed it as Buffon’s side dive was a step slow, the ball squeezed into the right side of the net beneath him.

"Frank!"

"Frank!"

"Frank!"

Real Madrid fans would have gone crazy.

They were prepared to lose the game today.

Unexpectedly, Real Madrid scored goal after goal.

The happiness came so abruptly, they couldn’t even believe their eyes.

Guardiola frustratedly clutched his head, regretting not reminding the players on the field.

If he had spoken up earlier, the ball probably wouldn’t have gone in.

"Another one, another one!!!"

Mourinho excitedly jumped around on the sideline.

"Yes, we’re going to win!"

Rui Faria and Mourinho hugged and shouted.

Neither of them expected the match to go so smoothly.

Although Huang Kaiwen hadn’t really touched the ball much, both subconsciously ignored it, after all, there was no need to find unhappiness at such a joyous time.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mourinho noticed Guardiola’s expression, he jumped and ran towards Milan’s coach bench.

José Mourinho never lets revenge wait overnight, Pep kicked a bottle at him, Mourinho naturally couldn’t tolerate it.

Mourinho’s posture was as flamboyant as it gets.

But just as he was about to reach Guardiola, Mourinho slipped, his left foot went forward, right foot went right, his whole body lowered, and Guardiola jumped back in shock.

He looked at his friend in a split who was shocked.

Even with excitement, celebration shouldn’t be like this.

"José, we don’t have to do this."

Guardiola said with a difficult expression.

Mourinho’s lips moved, but Guardiola couldn’t hear anything.

Curious, Guardiola crouched down to Mourinho’s lips and finally heard Mourinho’s weak words: "Doctor, doctor..."