Sports Medicine Master System-Chapter 96 - 79: Moratti

At the end of January, during the 16th round of Serie A, Inter Milan hosted the last-place team, Barry.

For Inter, who were sitting in 12th place with only 18 points, this match was a much-needed lifeline, a gift from the heavens.

The match was scheduled for 6:00 PM.

As dusk fell, Inter President Massimo Moratti, as he always did, hopped on his bicycle and rode through the old districts of Milan on his way to San Siro Stadium.

Before the match, Tardelli had casually told him, "Just sit back in the stands and wait for a landslide victory."

But Moratti didn’t dare let his guard down.

As a rule, teams in the relegation zone were never easy opponents.

However, upon arriving at the stadium, he was swarmed by reporters.

"Wait, what did you say, Luca?!"

The cacophony of voices made it nearly impossible for Moratti to hear what the reporters were saying. He waved his hand, signaling for quiet, then pointed to a familiar face.

Luca, a reporter from *Milan Sports*, immediately spoke up. "It’s about Ronnie. Just this morning, Pita suddenly announced to the press that Ronnie is preparing to go to the United States for another knee surgery. Massimo, did Ronnie tell you? What in the world is going on? It’s been eight months. Hasn’t his knee healed yet?"

The 56-year-old Moratti shuddered violently, as if struck by a bolt from the blue.

’Why am I hearing about this from a reporter?’ he wondered, unable to comprehend the situation.

In that instant, uncontrollable anger flared up within him, but just as a string of curses was about to escape his lips, Moratti forced them back down.

"I don’t know! Don’t ask me! Security!"

His mind in turmoil, Moratti called for security and forced his way through the dense crowd of reporters.

The match was the furthest thing from his mind. After shaking off the reporters, without even taking the time to properly park his bicycle, he pulled out his phone and called Blanchini.

’What the hell have these bastards done?’

’And why another surgery? Was there something wrong with last year’s operation?’

Too many questions swirled in Moratti’s mind, making him incredibly agitated.

After a full thirty seconds, the call finally went through.

Before Moratti could even begin to shout, Blanchini’s apologetic voice came through the phone. "I’m sorry, Massimo. Please, just hear me out."

Moratti suppressed his anger and said in a heavy voice, "Speak."

Although Blanchini was a power broker who made waves all across Europe, he didn’t dare act presumptuously in front of a true titan like Moratti. He chose his words carefully. "It’s like this... you know that Ronnie’s knee recovery hasn’t been meeting expectations."

"I know," Moratti cut him off. "But I was willing to give him plenty of time to rest, and I’ve been looking for solutions. The day before yesterday—yes, just the day before yesterday—I spoke with Silvio. He even recommended a doctor from Belgium, a man named Marsman, who supposedly specializes in post-injury rehabilitation. So, Giovanni, what the hell are you people doing? And Ronnie? Where is he right now?"

Blanchini quickly racked his brain, trying to remember if there was such a figure in Belgium, but he came up blank. The name didn’t ring a bell at all.

By contrast, Gérard Saison, who had performed Ronaldo’s last knee surgery, was a physician renowned throughout France.

"Massimo, here’s what happened," Blanchini began, explaining cautiously. "I used my contacts to find a doctor in the United States. The man is incredible. He’s treated two top NBA stars. He examined Ronnie and said that with conservative treatment, Ronnie will never be able to regain his former athletic ability. Only another surgery can ensure a full recovery."

"A doctor from the United States?" Moratti frowned. He was aware that the standard of medical care in the United States was much higher than in Europe.

Blanchini continued, "Ronnie has a lot of faith in this Dr. Chen. Most importantly, Chen told us that if he has the surgery again, it will only take ten months for Ronnie to make a full, healthy return to the pitch. Massimo, you spent so much money to bring Ronnie to Inter. Surely you want a completely healthy Ronnie so you can restore the glory of the Great International Era, right?"

The mention of the "Great International Era" did much to quell Moratti’s anger.

That was the one thing he dreamed of accomplishing.

After a moment’s thought, Moratti said, "You said this American doctor treated two NBA stars. Who were they? And don’t you dare try to fool me with some run-of-the-mill players."

Hearing the softened tone in Moratti’s voice, Blanchini breathed an inward sigh of relief.

He knew full well how much Moratti adored Ronaldo. If he could just dangle the prospect of a fully healthy Ronaldo in front of him, the old man was sure to agree.

After all, since coming to Serie A from Barça, Ronaldo had been plagued by injuries while facing the league’s much tougher defenses.

"Of course they aren’t ordinary stars. It’s Penny Hardaway and Grant Hill—the two heirs to Jordan’s throne. This Dr. Chen personally repaired Hardaway’s ligaments and meniscus. His medical skills are beyond question." At this point, Blanchini had no choice but to sing Chen Yu’s praises.

Moratti didn’t watch or follow basketball, but the title "heir to Jordan’s throne" still carried a lot of weight.

After a moment of thought, Moratti said, "Let’s put that aside for now. What about Ronnie? Is he still in Kableton? I want to see him."

Blanchini was silent on the other end for a full ten seconds before saying softly, "We’re already in the United States. It was Ronnie’s idea. I told him we needed to report to you first, but... you know Ronnie. He’s too impulsive. There was nothing we could do."