Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca

"Red card! Red card!"

"Damn black bastard! You can't win so you want to cripple Julien?! Damn bastard! Go back to the bottom of your Atlantic Ocean!"

"ce salaud devrait mourir! This bastard should die! Damn!"

Stade de France.

Julien was on the ground covering his ankle, and the team doctor had already entered the field to examine him.

Just now, during one of his change-of-direction breakthroughs, he had completely shaken off Cissokho.

The beaten Cissokho, feeling frustrated, caught up from behind with a flying tackle, stepping on Julien's ankle.

However, Chapron only gave Cissokho a yellow card.

The Bastia fans on the sideline were furious, angrily cursing.

Cissokho also knew he had lost his head a bit. He quickly came over to check on Julien's condition, but was pushed away by Rothen, "Get away, you bastard!"

Hearing this, Cissokho's face showed anger, but considering his yellow card, he didn't continue.

Rothen quickly went over to ask about Julien's condition.

Everyone knew that Julien was the team's core. If Julien was injured and couldn't play, it would be a devastating blow to Bastia.

Fortunately, after careful examination by the team doctor, this was just a hard knock.

Just painful for the first moment, no injury.

"Damn referee!"

"Are you blind? You can donate those eyes!"

Bastia fans continued to transfer their anger to Chapron. This clear red card action was only given a yellow card.

French Football Federation president Noël Le Graët frowned slightly in the stands.

In such a high-profile match, such controversial refereeing would make more people disappointed in French football.

More crucially, Le Graët had watched Julien play before and had great expectations for this young man.

The current French national team needed a superstar.

Ribéry was getting older each year, and the so-called Four Little Swans each had their own predicaments and lacked star quality.

But Julien was different.

Le Graët saw something unique in Julien.

This young man's growth would definitely be a great thing for French football.

Le Graët was even considering that if Julien's development went as smoothly as expected, he wanted to focus on promoting Julien.

Julien's talent and experience were simply the perfect model.

He had amazing talent, but did not take things seriously in his teen years, then after falling into decline, the prodigal son returned and became a top star.

Such a football role model would surely inspire countless people.

On the pitch, Julien got up and walked a few steps.

It was not a big problem.

This made many people breathe a sigh of relief.

Whether for Bastia or for the French national team, Julien couldn't afford to be injured now.

Actually, Julien's fall was somewhat exaggerated.

But Chapron's standards for this match were indeed a bit loose. With slightly stricter standards, Cissokho would have at least two yellow cards.

Julien was calculating whether he could get Cissokho sent off.

The match continued.

Bastia kicked off. After a few passes, the ball was intercepted by Lyon.

In terms of individual player ability, Bastia was still lacking somewhat.

So, most of the time, Bastia was defending, and the help they could give Julien on the attacking end was indeed limited.

It was also easy for Julien to fall into a situation of fighting alone.

Whistle!!

When the first half stoppage time ended, Chapron blew the whistle for halftime.

Entering the halftime break.

Bastia players breathed a sigh of relief—this was a rare moment to catch their breath. The defending side, compared to the attacking side, was more passive, with highly tense nerves and greater physical consumption.

After all, they were the passive party, being led by the nose.

But Lyon's side had some fluctuation in team mentality due to their inability to score despite prolonged attacks.

Playing a Ligue 2 team for half a match and still being tied.

No one could accept this.

Plus, with pressure monsters like Lloris, the team atmosphere wasn't good.

On the way back to the dressing room, Lyon players had little communication.

Anyway, they knew that many people would leave after the season ended, so they had a somewhat indifferent attitude.

In Bastia's dressing room, Hadzibegic's expression was resolute, "See that?! Ligue 1 teams are nothing special! We even defeated the stronger Lille! What is Lyon?! Their seven championships are already history! Just like our seven years without being in Ligue 1 have also become history!"

"There are still forty-five minutes left. Twenty thousand Bastia fans at the scene, plus two to three hundred thousand fans on Corsica, are all waiting for your good news! These forty-five minutes will either rewrite the team's history or end up like 2002 with nothing to show for it—it's all at your feet!"

Then, Hadzibegic called Julien's name, "Julien!"

Julien immediately met Hadzibegic's gaze.

The latter nodded slightly and said, "In the second half, we're changing tactics. You'll play as a lone striker. Do you remember what I told you before?"

Julien nodded.

During the French Cup match against Lille, Hadzibegic had told him things like:

"You won't have help from teammates,"

"you'll be surrounded by opposing defenders,"

"you're the team's only hope for attack."

"Today is the same."

Hadzibegic looked at the others again and added, "Lyon scored many goals in the final fifteen minutes this season, related to their opponents ultimately having defensive gaps due to physical problems. So, we need to withdraw attacking players and defend with everyone. Listen, we need..."

Hadzibegic went into detail, wishing he could explain every possible scenario to the players.

After half a match, Every Bastia player was now completely determined. They had only one goal in their eyes—hold on!

Julien silently rested.

He knew his task would be very heavy in the second half.

Lone striker meant he would truly be surrounded, with no support from teammates.

But when he looked at the captain's armband on his left arm,

His gaze became more determined.

During halftime, The French Cup broadcast continuously analyzed the possible adjustments both sides might make. Lyon's bench depth was obviously stronger than Bastia's.

Bastia didn't have many players they could substitute.

But, when both teams' players returned to the pitch for the second half, even the commentators were stunned, "Is Hadzibegic planning to defend to the death?!"

Hazri and Maolida were both substituted off.

Replaced by a midfielder, Vincent, and a defender, Sioni.

Boom!

Boom boom!!

Regardless of what kind of substitutions were made, Bastia fans continued to cheer as always, supporting Julien.

Although due to the very strict security at the Stade de France,

They couldn't bring flares or TIFO into the stadium, they still waved blue flags.

Singing loudly—

"Julien Julien

Corsica's lightning stride!

From Clairefontaine to Bastia, you carry our pride!

Blue blood in your sweat, victory in your veins—

With every step, you break the chains!

Julien! Julien!

You're the hurricane's cry!

Your shots blaze through like fire in the sky!

Forza Bastia! Turchini's sword!

Julien De Rocca—our god, our lord!"

The "Song of Julien" that was sung at Césari echoed throughout the Stade de France.

Julien stood in the center circle.

He took a deep breath. With Chapron's whistle, Lyon kicked off.

Julien immediately dropped back.

Other Bastia players did the same.

'Hold on!'

This was the thought in everyone's mind.

As for attacking, Bastia players couldn't help but look toward that somewhat thin figure at the front.

The jersey hung somewhat loosely on his body.

But the captain's armband on his left arm gave everyone peace of mind.

No one had ever said it explicitly, but everyone felt this way—Julien was now Bastia's soul!

Garde saw Hadzibegic's tactical change and frowned deeply.

He had thought about many things during halftime.

He had also considered that Bastia would fully retreat, but he absolutely hadn't expected they would let Julien play as a lone striker.

He instinctively felt that Julien couldn't play lone striker.

But,

Julien's consistent past performances made him uncertain, and Julien wasn't playing lone striker for the first time.

Garde felt somewhat irritated.

He wondered why Bastia couldn't be like other Ligue 2 teams and just surrender when facing Ligue 1 teams.

He quickly had Cissokho and others also adjust their formation appropriately, strengthening the marking of Julien.

With only one Julien, surely, they could defend against him?

But,

Less than ten minutes into the second half, all Bastia fans erupted in cheers!!

Whistle!!

The referee's whistle sounded, showing Cissokho, who was lying on the ground, a yellow card.

Then he pulled out a red card.

Garde was completely stunned, immediately appealing to the fourth official, "No, this is absolutely not a yellow card, this is just an ordinary foul!"

The fourth official pointed to the big screen in the stadium, "Look, this was going for the man."

In the slow-motion replay, Julien received the ball with his back to goal, made an elegant ball pull and turn, and Cissokho charged over, trying to position himself.

But Julien suddenly stopped, shaking off Cissokho, pushed the ball forward, and was about to sprint forward.

This was Bastia's excellent counterattack opportunity!

However!

Cissokho, either not realizing he had a yellow card or thinking he could definitely make a clean tackle,

Turned and stuck out a foot, intercepting in front of Julien.

Wanting to get the ball.

But he was clearly too slow!

Julien had already poked the ball away when he made his move.

Julien was waiting for exactly this kind of opportunity. He didn't avoid contact and went straight into it, even intentionally angling his shin toward Cissokho's knee area.

"Ah!"

Both cried out in pain upon contact.

Julien didn't use much force.

If Cissokho had pulled back his foot, he naturally wouldn't have suffered much impact, but Cissokho didn't pull back.

With the force and momentum of his tackle, he collided with Julien's shin.

Garde looked at the replay.

He actually knew this was Cissokho's foul, but still fervently protested, "No, he had no subjective intention to foul, this was passive, this is absolutely not a yellow card! Give us a chance!"

But the fourth official shook his head, pointing toward the main referee, "I can't change anything, and this ball was indeed a foul."

Garde was so angry his heart was racing. He turned and walked toward the coaching area, furiously cursing, "Idiot! Son of a bitch idiot!!"

It was unclear whether he was cursing the referee who gave the card or Cissokho who committed the foul.

Or perhaps both.

Cissokho was sent off with a red card, but what made Garde even angrier was that Cissokho was injured and couldn't continue the match.

The team doctor's preliminary diagnosis was that he would likely miss the remaining few league matches this season.

Bang!

Garde slammed the water bottle hard on the ground.

He told the team doctor to quickly take Cissokho and "get lost" to go for examination.

Red card!

Lyon was down to ten men!

This made Hadzibegic's spirits soar. This not only meant they would have an easier time defending, but also that Julien would have more space on the attacking end.

It just depended on what Lyon chose to do.

Julien was fine, but he took advantage of the team doctor's treatment to delay a bit longer.

Giving his teammates some time to rest.

In the stands, Lyon president Michel Aulas's face was extremely grim. He no longer had the initial joy from scoring.

He had been Lyon's president since 1987. Under his leadership, Lyon started in 2001 with their first-ever Ligue 1 championship, continuing through seven consecutive titles!

Now the team had fallen into a trough.

Aulas looked at Julien.

His expression was complex.

If possible, he wanted to sign Julien, he was even willing to pay Lyon's largest transfer fee in history, and willing to sell many players to gather this money.

But he also knew,

Julien wouldn't come to Lyon.

Such a talented player had too many choices. They would choose a team on the rise.

They would also choose an established powerhouse.

And they definitely wouldn't choose a crumbling team!

"Sigh."

Aulas sighed.

Gasp!

While he was feeling down, both Bastia and Lyon fans in the stadium let out surprised gasps.

Julien!

He almost scored!

Bastia fans felt somewhat regretful, while Lyon fans felt they had dodged a bullet.

From Bastia's free kick, Julien pulled wide to receive the ball, then dribbled horizontally along the edge of the penalty area.

Finding some space, he unleashed a shot!

Fortunately, Lloris made a timely diving save.

Crisis averted.

Julien shook his head, somewhat dissatisfied with this shot. His shooting was still lacking.

Actually, he had wanted to curl it into the corner, but failed to get the curl.

After all that dribbling, his standing leg didn't hold steady.

Lloris cleared the ball.

Lyon, down to ten men due to Cissokho's red card, didn't rashly attack.

They were still at 1-1.

The situation wasn't too bad.

Garde signaled from the sideline for the players to control possession and delay.

Maybe dragging it to extra time, then to a penalty shootout, would be Lyon's chance?

Garde was somewhat tempted to just defend.

But Lyon themselves made a huge mistake!

Midfielder Källström's through pass was intercepted by Vincent.

Vincent, who had just come on in the second half, had fresh legs.

He drove forward from midfield. Källström and Gourcuff both pressed him, trying to stop Vincent.

But Vincent had already seen Julien making a forward run.

A through ball!

Julien used his explosive burst to create separation from Gonalons while pulling his speed to maximum, then cancelled the burst.

He got to the ball first.

Then he pushed his normal speed to the limit, striding forward through the middle!

With his frame and speed,

For a moment, Many people saw the shadow of that Ballon d'Or winner—silver saddle shining on white horse, swift as shooting stars.

Lovren's covering defense was very quick.

But just as he was about to stop Julien, Julien suddenly found another gear, shaking off the defense.

Heading straight for the penalty area!

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