Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca

Blanc frowned on the sideline, no one was available. His midfield compared to Italy's was worlds apart.

Even though France's two wingers were quite strong, without midfield support, they couldn't perform at all.

Did he expect them to dribble through the entire Italian team?

Blanc quickly made adjustments on the sideline, telling players to defend deep and low.

Whoosh!

Only the fifth minute, and fans exclaimed again.

Italian right-back Balzaretti overlapped and sent a cross sweeping across the goal.

Balotelli and Cassano, two-point attack!

French fans had even raised their hands, preparing to hold their heads in despair.

But Lloris stepped up. As Balzaretti crossed, he found the right moment to charge out, collecting the ball before Balotelli could reach it.

This allowed French fans to catch their breath. But this was just a microcosm of the match. Italy was actually dominating France!

France's midfield couldn't control the ball at all. They needed Ribéry and Julien to drop deep just to receive passes.

But when they dropped back, attacking opportunities disappeared. With Italy's defensive line holding position, France had few solutions.

This situation showed no signs of improving in the short term.

Ptui!

Julien spat out grass from his mouth. He had just been brought down while dribbling under pressure from Chiellini and Bonucci. He kept the ball but was fouled.

Giroud was being marked tightly by Barzagli.

Over twenty minutes into the match, he'd barely had any touches.

Actually, it wasn't just Giroud who had few touches. Including Julien and Ribéry, none had many opportunities with the ball.

It had to be said, Juventus's defensive setup was truly formidable, especially with Barzagli enjoying a career renaissance.

Barzagli was an iron wall.

Juventus and Italy's top defensive trio "BBC combination" was what Julien had encountered.

When Julien passed back to midfield, basically no one could pass the ball back to the front. He could only watch Italy press forward in positional attack.

Julien felt quite helpless. However, through repeated attempts to break through, he was also carefully observing the defensive movements of Chiellini, Bonucci, and even De Rossi.

He refused to believe he'd have no chances!

In the stands, French fans looked grim. This match shattered a common assumption among casual fans. that Italy was a defensive team.

So far in this match, Italy had maintained absolute control with 73% possession versus 27%, keeping the initiative throughout.

This was very similar to Lippi's Italy team in the 2006 World Cup.

Overemphasizing catenaccio defense had given people a deeply rooted perception of Italian football.

But facts proved that in matches between equals, Italians' ability to control situations was no worse than anyone's.

Moreover, in just over twenty minutes, Italy already had seven shots, four on target.

Tonight was Lloris's superhuman evening.

On the other side, the legendary goalkeeper Buffon had little chance to perform.

France didn't have a single shot. They had barely entered the attacking third.

Julien roamed the pitch and even saw Buffon bouncing and warming up. He remembered one of Buffon's interview quotes. "Around thirty-four or thirty-five, when I might have retired, I felt that with those three in front of me, I could play another three or four years. Thanks to them, I can enjoy a few more years of sports and football."

Buffon was referring to BBC: Bonucci, Barzagli, and Chiellini.

Just as Julien was thinking about how to break through Italy's defense, how to get past Buffon's ten fingers...

BOOM!!

Kyiv's Olympic Stadium shook!

After sustained pressure, Italy scored!

Italy's persistent attack finally paid off. Pirlo found a passing lane through the crowd and with a flick of his ankle, delivered an over-the-top ball.

The ball sailed over M'Vila and others, reaching near the small penalty area.

Balotelli exploited Rami's slow turning by making a clever run and headed the ball toward goal.

Lloris could no longer save such a close-range header.

Swoosh!

The Ball was in the net.

Italy 1-0 France.

Italian fans in the stands erupted, and Italian players excitedly rushed toward Balotelli to celebrate.

But Balotelli, after scoring, wasn't particularly excited. He just wanted to look cool.

Expressionless, he walked to the stands and made a pumping fist celebration.

Blanc watched the Italian celebration with no expression. He had no expectations for this match anyway. He knew Nasri and Ben Arfa had certain abilities, and he knew Benzema had ability.

But that wasn't their reason to threaten the team with their talent and hold the coach hostage!

Midfield collapse.

Blanc sighed softly. At this moment, he thought of his old friend, how good it would be if current France had a Zidane.

But would France ever see another Zidane emerge?

Commentators, fans, former players, and countless viewers were all amazed by Italy's dominant performance against France tonight.

Many even declared, "Based on the current situation, Italy's definitely winning. Without Nasri, France's midfield has no one who can hold the ball."

"France was lucky to advance this far. Their internal strife was never resolved."

"The new players Blanc insisted on using look average. And for this they had to assert the coach's authority? Does the French Football Federation feel like they have proven their authority now? Banning their strongest midfielder for five years."

At this moment, Nasri and Ben Arfa, who were vacationing in Barcelona, had chartered a yacht for a day at sea with many female companions.

After a full day of fun, they returned to their hotel to watch this match, and the smiles never left their faces.

Thinking about his ban, Nasri still felt indignant and said fiercely, "Without us, France's midfield doesn't have a single person who can pass the ball!"

The uglier France played, the stronger Nasri felt a sense of vengeful satisfaction. This satisfaction was even more intense than his pleasure on the yacht during the day!

Ben Arfa chimed in. "They'll lose badly!"

They might be the happiest Frenchmen right now.

Kyiv Olympic Stadium.

Deschamps said to Zidane, "See, what current France lacks is someone like you."

Zidane smiled. "Then I suggest you try that kid named Paul at Juventus later."

"The big guy who transferred from Manchester United?"

"Yes." Zidane nodded. France's current midfield generation was basically finished; they had to look toward the younger generation.

A team needed top players in every position to dominate football.

France was clearly lacking in every position right now. The only bright spot might be the wings.

Ribéry still had something left, and Julien had emerged as a surprise.

Whistle!

The match quickly resumed.

After seeing his team score, Prandelli immediately had them maintain possession.

He had abandoned Italy's traditional defensive counterattack, emphasizing midfield control and quick attacking transitions, using Pirlo's long passes to connect directly with the forwards.

Now with the lead, he hoped France would come out and press.

But he was disappointed.

France continued with low defensive positioning, showing no intention of attacking.

The TF1 commentator spotted the issue. "M'Vila just seemed to gesture helplessly at Rami. Already passive in play, now conceding a goal, it seems there's some blame between players now."

Whistle!!

The referee saw that first-half stoppage time was over and blew his whistle, signaling halftime.

Italians wore smiles on their faces. French players walked silently toward the dressing room.

Julien took a deep breath. This match left him very frustrated, there was no possession and they were facing a top-class defense.

BANG!

When Julien returned to the dressing room, everyone sat in silence, but suddenly a loud door slam startled everyone.

M'Vila, Benzema and others were ready to explode with anger, but seeing it was Blanc, they held back.

Blanc's face was very grim.

"I know some of you are upset about defensive mistakes, some complain about too few passes, but now is not the time for mutual blame! Wearing this jersey, you represent France, not someone's personal name!"

"Being 0-1 down isn't the end of the world, but if anyone wants to continue stirring up internal strife, go ahead and try. Want to be heroes or clowns? Your choice!"

As he spoke, his gaze deliberately looked toward M'Vila.

"Yoann, Alou, in the second half I want you sticking to Pirlo like glue! Press him before he gets the ball, commit fouls, if necessary, just don't let him turn and pass! In the first half he completed 42 passes, including 7 long balls finding Balotelli. If these numbers appear again, we should pack up and go home!!"

"Giroud! Start moving, drop back, pull defenders, make Barzagli and Bonucci move! Create space for Franck and Julien!"

"Franck, Julien! Italy's fullbacks can't get back after attacking. I want you to beat them one-on-one! Cross from the byline or cut inside to shoot, your choice, but you must create threats!"

After this speech, the dressing room was silent except for Blanc's voice.

His gaze swept over every player. Finally settling on Julien, he said earnestly, "I know your characteristics, and opponents know your characteristics too. Change it up. In the second half, I'm giving you freedom to roam in the final third. Start running."

He looked directly at Julien. Julien met Blanc's gaze, his eyes full of determination. He wouldn't give up!

Blanc's eyes showed satisfaction as he nodded slightly. In this France team, only Julien gave him hope for the future.

While Blanc was berating players and arranging tactics, Prandelli was also setting up second-half tactics.

Half the match remained. It wasn't time for celebration yet.

Although many felt that once Italy had a one-goal lead, the match was basically over.

Meanwhile, this match was being widely discussed during halftime. In most people's eyes, France was already on the brink of collapse, key players were banned due to internal strife, and the coach's promoted young players were unable to carry the match.

France seemed already on the edge of elimination.

ROAR!

ROAR ROAR!!

When Julien walked with his teammates to the tunnel, when he heard the waves of sound from the tunnel entrance, when he saw that beam of light.

His heart calmed down. Blanc's words had awakened him.

Yes, perhaps the Ligue 2 defenders had given him an illusion that he could dribble past any defense line with his skills alone. But reality told him football wasn't that simple.

He needed to make some changes.

"Go~" The referee gestured for entry.

Whoosh!

As Julien passed through the light at the tunnel entrance once again, waves of sound hit him head-on.

Italian cheers.

French hopes.

The interweaving of countless emotions, the sound of the ball rolling across grass.

Julien raised his head, facing his opponents with determination.

Whistle!!

The referee's whistle sounded.

Euro 2012, quarter-final, Italy versus France, second half.

Officially begins!!

________________________________________________________

Check out my patreon where you can read more chapters:

patreon.com/LorianFiction

Thanks for your support!