Football: My AI System Provides Max-Level Predictions-Chapter 790 - 569: Old Friends Reunited! Former Goalkeeper Turns into a Rock Bassist, Drunken Truth Bomb Shakes the Scene!

"Uncle Beard is here!"

In the small yard of the Ranocchia family, children, like a flock of cheerful birds, were shouting and rushing out all at once.

At the gate, a taxi came to a steady stop, instantly surrounded by the little ones.

The children's eyes sparkled with excitement, their little palms were eagerly slapping the car windows with such enthusiasm that it seemed they might just shatter the glass.

Berni, full of smiles, gently pushed open the car door.

As the trunk opened, bags of all sizes came into view.

He bent down, his hands busily working, taking out the gifts one by one to distribute them to the children who could hardly wait.

"Don't grab, come one at a time, everyone gets a share!" His voice was warm and somewhat hearty, just like the rare sunshine this afternoon in Manchester.

Back when he played for Inter Milan, Berni was already very close to the Ranocchia family.

Ranocchia's children were all fond of Berni's thick beard, playfully giving him the nickname "Uncle Beard."

"Wow, Chris! Look at you, you've grown so tall, almost reaching my stomach!"

Berni was full of surprise, looking at the boy in front of him with eyes full of affection as he reached out to ruffle his head.

Turning to the side at the little girl with pretty braids, he laughed and said, "Sofia, your braids are beautiful, just like a little princess. In kindergarten, you don't cry so easily anymore, do you?" Berni pinched little Ranocchia's daughter's nose, and the girl stuck out her tongue, deliberately made a crying face, and then climbed onto Berni like she was climbing a tree.

At this time, Ranocchia, Tang Long, and Bonazzoli had been waiting at the door for a long time.

Although they hadn't seen each other for a year, the friendship between the old teammates had only grown stronger.

As soon as they met, they quickly started chatting away, too engrossed to even move inside, standing at the entrance letting the conversation flow.

"Don't just stand foolishly at the door, come inside and sit!"

Ranocchia's wife, wearing a clean apron and with a warm smile, came out of the house and exchanged cheek kisses with Berni, as if welcoming a long-lost family member.

This time Berni had rushed from New York to Manchester to prepare for the band's European tour.

The Celestial Street Band, which he formed in New York, had started to make a name for itself in the rock scene after two years of struggling and grinding.

The band had previously toured Europe once, but this time, the scale was much larger than before.

The whole band, from the manager to the staff, over twenty people strong, was grand in demeanor.

Unexpectedly, the first stop of the European tour was neither the bustling London nor the romantic Paris, nor the fashion capital Milan, but Manchester was chosen.

"Haha, that was my strong request! First of all, the rock atmosphere in the UK is very intense, and we can definitely attract a large crowd of fans here; secondly, of course, I wanted to see you guys first! How have you been lately? I've missed you so much!"

As Berni spoke, he spread his arms open, making a gesture to embrace everyone, with a smile blooming as brightly as a flower.

Tang Long's lips curled slightly, jokingly teasing:

"As for us, what else would we be doing but dealing with football every day, you know it. But what about you, how's life in New York? Still living in a basement?" he said, arching his eyebrows, the look in his eyes carrying a hint of jest.

On hearing this, Berni's face flushed red, and he raised his voice in rebuttal:

"No way! That's ancient history. Now, I live in a luxury apartment near New York Central Park, living in comfort!" As he said this, he puffed out his chest, a picture of pride.

Thinking back to the video calls with Tang Long before, the room Berni lived in appeared dimly lit, with old furniture and a cluttered mess.

Unable to withstand Tang Long's repeated questioning, he finally revealed the truth.

When he first arrived in New York, he was unfamiliar with the place, and he didn't have much money in his pocket.

Although he had played in Italy for many years, aside from two seasons as a main goalkeeper in the lower leagues ten years ago, most of the time, he was either the second or third goalkeeper, with limited salary, earning only 20 to 30 thousand euros on average per year.

Adding to that his number of friends and his habit of treating people to meals, his savings over the years had dwindled.

When coming to the United States, he had only brought $200,000 with him, which he had to spend sparingly, as most of the money was to be reserved as the band's budget, and every penny had to be used wisely.

Luckily, heaven rewards those who work hard, and in the past two years, the Celestial Street Band had started to turn things around.

During one of their small concerts, the tickets sold out quickly, and Berni's income skyrocketed, almost reaching the level he had when he was with Inter.

Ranocchia's wife came over with a tray, on it were a few steaming cups of coffee.

Ranocchia quickly stepped forward, taking the tray with both hands, and then personally handed one cup of coffee to Berni.

"I really envy you, Uncle Berni, you know, many players find themselves doing nothing after retirement, and even if they have jobs, they are mostly related to football. But you, on your own, crossed the Atlantic Ocean to pursue a music career, and this courage, we truly admire from the bottom of our hearts."

Ranocchia looked at Berni, his eyes full of sincerity and admiration.