Chapter Ninety: Blinding the Opponent with a Blitzkrieg

The second leg between Villarreal and Sparta Prague was, naturally, played at Sparta Prague’s home ground, Letna Stadium.

In their previous league match, Sparta Prague had beaten a weaker side 2–1 at home, extending their home winning streak in the league to twelve straight. They were currently second in the table with one game in hand.

Villarreal, meanwhile, had defeated Getafe 2–0 at home in their last league outing. Dai Zhiwei came off the bench and provided an assist, and the team now held a twelve-point cushion over fifth-placed Celta. Their place in next season’s Champions League could almost be said to be all but secured.

Sparta Prague’s home record in this season’s Europa League had been outstanding: ten matches, seven wins and three draws, nineteen goals scored and only five conceded. A 3–1 deficit was not an insurmountable gap, and at home they still possessed a real chance of turning the tie around.

Villarreal’s away record in this season’s Europa League, however, was a modest one: one win, three draws, and one defeat from five matches. Many media outlets had argued before kickoff that the Yellow Submarine should strive for a draw, because as long as they did not lose by more than two goals, they would go through—and a draw would of course be enough.

“Advance by holding on to a draw? Why does that sound so familiar?”

As Dai Zhiwei emerged from the tunnel, he was still muttering to himself. Then he suddenly recalled the slogan of the national side, and for reasons he himself could not explain, a chill ran through him, followed at once by a tightening of every muscle in his body.

When a draw would be enough to advance, the final result for Chinese football had so often been a loss.

“No! With me here, how could this team disgrace itself the way the national side does?” Long before the match even began, Dai Zhiwei had already stoked his condition to its very peak.

As soon as Villarreal kicked off, Bakambu and Dai Zhiwei surged into Sparta Prague’s half, with Suarez dropping deeper to orchestrate play. Villarreal’s attack unfolded swiftly.

Suarez quickly released the ball to Castillejo on the right, then pushed forward toward the edge of Sparta Prague’s box, handing the creative burden to the flank.

Castillejo was brimming with energy today. He settled into position at once, received the pass, nudged the ball with his right foot, and swiftly sent it left before exploding forward.

Sparta Prague defender Holek moved his weight first, shielding to his left, but felt his chest sink and his balance begin to go.

Having burst away at speed, Castillejo saw that Holek had already appeared on the line of his dribble. He hooked the ball with the instep of his left foot, feinted with his body, then used his right foot to push it on, slipping past Holek’s other side before cutting again and driving straight toward the center.

Holek had no way to stop him. That single lapse of balance was enough to let Castillejo leave him behind.

But Holek reacted quickly, turning on the spot and charging after the man who had cut inside, hounding him in desperate pursuit.

Having beaten Holek, Castillejo now faced Mazeyevsky, who had long since been watching him and was already moving out to meet him.

Castillejo did not hesitate in possession. The instant the defender closed in, he hooked the ball with his right foot, then nudged it with his left, his body surging forward like a drawn bow loosing its arrow. Before Mazeyevsky could react, he burst past on the right and, before Holek could come across to seal him in, entered the penalty area.

With Mazeyevsky beaten, Sparta Prague’s back line had suddenly become thin and fragile. Castillejo, alone and weaving through them, was like a dragon swimming through water, tearing their defense apart and sending panic rippling through the whole side.

Goalkeeper Bicik had already rushed out, but Castillejo stroked the ball with his right foot and sent a low drive along the ground. Bicik flung himself down instinctively, trying to seal off the goalmouth, only to find the ball was not headed toward the net at all.

Castillejo had chosen to square it across the face of goal.

Dai Zhiwei had been grappling with Sparta Prague center-back Brabec near the penalty spot, waiting at all times for a teammate’s pass or a rebound. The instant Castillejo released the ball across the box, he unleashed every ounce of energy in his body, while Brabec, not to be outdone, tried to use his position in front to disturb Dai Zhiwei’s attempt to receive it.

This was where the difference between striker and defender became plain. Unlike the constrained Brabec, Dai Zhiwei went straight into a sliding finish, while thrusting his right leg forward as far as he could, reaching the ball a fraction of a second first.

With the goal yawning open before him, the strike itself was not especially polished, but it was more than enough to send the ball sailing over the line.

Goal!

1–0!

Though eighty percent of the credit belonged to Castillejo, what was there to be dissatisfied with when the ball had gone in?

“Brilliant pass!” Dai Zhiwei sprinted toward Castillejo, who was already spreading his arms wide, and lifted him up in an embrace.

The early concession left the home supporters stunned into silence before their chants had even properly begun. By contrast, the Yellow Submarine’s players were jubilant; the goal, scored in under two minutes, instantly transformed what had been expected to be a difficult night for Villarreal into a straightforward affair.

The match resumed, and while Sparta Prague tried to equalize as quickly as possible, Villarreal, buoyed by the opening goal, only grew more energized and pressed on in their momentum.

Less than two minutes after that opening strike, Dai Zhiwei won a dangerous free kick in a promising position. Unfortunately, Trigueros’s direct effort drifted just wide of the post.

“Tsk. If only I had the skill for a curling shot right now!”

Dai Zhiwei’s desire to acquire a free-kick skill only grew stronger.

This Villarreal side did not possess a genuine free-kick specialist in the absolute sense. As long as Dai Zhiwei’s set-piece technique was at least passable, then with his current standing in the squad, becoming the first-choice taker would naturally be no trouble at all.

Sparta Prague also showed flashes of quality. In the fifth minute, Docekal crossed from the left and Julles unleashed a powerful effort from twenty-five yards in the center, only for it to sail wide.

Then came another long pass from Docekal. Julles shook off Ruiz, but Asenjo came out swiftly and smothered the chance.

After scoring the first goal, Dai Zhiwei grew even more active, raising a hand again and again to call for the ball from Suarez.

Knowing him well, Suarez naturally understood what was on his mind. When he passed to Dai Zhiwei, there was even a look of sympathy in his eyes—though that sympathy was not for Dai Zhiwei, but for Sparta Prague’s defense.

Dai Zhiwei received the ball facing Mazeyevsky and varied the rhythm of his touches, constantly teasing the ball under his feet.

Mazeyevsky was cautious against him. Waiting for the right moment, he stepped up to block Dai Zhiwei, but without stretching a leg out, he simply used his body to obstruct the route of both dribble and shot.

Dai Zhiwei immediately knocked the ball back to Suarez behind him, then slipped past Mazeyevsky in one swift motion.

While Mazeyevsky was still hesitating over whether to step in and tackle the ball at Suarez’s feet, Suarez, without taking a touch, clipped a short pass over the top. The ball flew toward the sprinting Dai Zhiwei.

A simple one-two.

Mazeyevsky lunged and missed. He tried to turn and recover at once, but having thrown himself in too hard, he could not steady his balance in time and slipped to the turf.

By the time Dai Zhiwei took possession, he had already burst into the left side of the area. At that moment Brabec, the Sparta Prague center-back, had been dragged away by Bakambu and could not get back in time to cover.

Just that brief moment of confusion was enough for Dai Zhiwei to spot the opening.

Before Bicik could set himself and narrow the angle, a white flash streaked past, and Dai Zhiwei smashed a thunderous shot from nearly forty meters to pierce Sparta Prague’s goal.

Effortless. As simple as could be.

2–0!

The Sparta Prague players and supporters were utterly stunned. They could never have imagined that from such fleeting chances the opposition would score twice in quick succession. Did they even have any way back now?

Sparta Prague could no longer shake the feeling that their fate was no longer in their own hands. At that point, they no longer even dared to think about reaching the Europa League semifinals; they only hoped not to be beaten too heavily.

After his gun-firing celebration the previous night, Dai Zhiwei beamed as he threw an arm around Suarez to celebrate with him.

With this brace, his Europa League tally for the season had reached ten goals, and the Golden Boot was now all but secured.

Before the first half had even ended, Sparta Prague were already two goals down. The expressions on the players’ faces had grown far more grim, and the home crowd was left speechless by the early concession. There was no longer any cheering to be heard inside the stadium; they had been completely stunned by Villarreal’s ruthless lightning strike.

Then the live camera panned to Sparta Prague’s bench, where one player after another sat expressionless. Perhaps they had already understood that their Europa League journey this season was over.

In the second half, Sparta Prague made a final effort through substitutions, but the gaps in their defense were once again ruthlessly exploited by Villarreal.

The Yellow Submarine produced another lightning attack after the break.

In the forty-ninth minute, Villarreal extended their lead. Bicik launched a long ball, but Bruno intercepted it on the flank. The Yellow Submarine captain then crossed from the left, and Bakambu, timing his run to perfection and beating the offside trap, finished from the left side of the box. 3–0!

Although Sparta Prague pulled two goals back afterward, in stoppage time substitute Soldado burst through one-on-one and rolled the ball into the empty net to make it 4–2.

And so Villarreal eliminated their opponents by an aggregate of 7–3 and advanced to the semifinals of this season’s Europa League!

“I am proud of the players and the fans,” Marcelino said after the match. “Everyone associated with Villarreal delivered an astonishing performance. At the start of the season, no one believed we could even get out of the group, and yet today we have reached the semifinals! I believe the title is not impossible!”

With Dai Zhiwei in such blazing form, Villarreal had, for the first time, dared to proclaim their intention to win the trophy.