Chapter 1072: Chapter 344: How a Badass Is Made

In the hospital room, with his legs spread watching TV, Mourinho muttered to himself: “So naively cute, trying hard on the field doesn’t change the fate of losing.”

He didn’t want to admit it.

But through Huang Kaiwen’s career, Mourinho also found that coaches are not that crucial for Huang Kaiwen’s team.

Such an outstanding coach was absent, yet even with that kid Luis Andre as the acting coach, Chelsea’s performance was still great.

This made Mourinho somewhat anxious.

After all, his salary compared to Boas’s salary was tens of times less.

The conflict between Abramovich and him also wasn’t resolved.

It was only because Huang Kaiwen wanted him back at Chelsea that he got this opportunity.

But he’s been sidelined due to injury, would that capricious boss think about changing a coach?

Mourinho laboriously took out the Tarot cards from the bedside cabinet.

His current situation didn’t allow for complicated divination, so he directly drew one card from the deck.

The Emperor card upright!

This card symbolizes will and passion, full of courage and action, an absolute ruler.

The upright card only requires worrying about whether the team is being too oppressed.

Mourinho began to reflect, thinking he has done well.

It seems there’s no need to worry about his position.

He looked back at the TV.

On the field, it was Liverpool’s counterattack, Riera on the left working with Gerrard, breaking into the area near the penalty box.

Ramos facing his Spanish compatriot showed no intention of going easy.

At the first moment, he missed the tackle but immediately bumped Riera with his shoulder, causing Riera to lose control of the ball, and Ramos hooked the ball in front and passed it across to Terry.

Riera raised his hands indicating a foul.

Mourinho shrugged disdainfully.

This level of physical contact wouldn’t be a foul in the Premier League, let alone in other leagues.

Sure enough, the referee showed no intention to whistle.

Terry passed it across to Ramos again, and Ramos, having observed the positions on the front field, swung his right foot and launched a long pass.

The ball spanned almost half the field, from the right rear flying to the left front.

Liverpool’s formation, still in the rear field, moved towards Chelsea’s left side, ensuring no Liverpool player would allow Huang Kaiwen to easily receive the ball.

As the ball descended, Huang Kaiwen deliberately overran the drop point as he started.

He then lifted his left foot, kicking the ball back up with the sole.

The ball flew over Abeloa’s head and landed in front of Huang Kaiwen.

Skrtel rushed forward, stretching out his foot, trying to scare off Huang Kaiwen to prevent him from daring to reach for the ball.

But Skrtel underestimated Huang Kaiwen’s physicality.

Huang Kaiwen didn’t retract his foot; instead, his core engaged, speeding up the swing of his right foot to a higher elevation.

The surface of his right foot touched the ball thirty centimeters above Skrtel’s leg.

Huang Kaiwen’s leg was lifted almost to his chest.

Mike Riley held the whistle in his mouth, thought for a second but still didn’t blow it.

Huang Kaiwen’s leg didn’t collide with Skrtel’s after descending, so there’s no instance of dangerously high kicking.

Howard Webb’s incident had put him under some pressure, so when it came to officiating Huang Kaiwen, he was more cautious.

Mascherano was nutmegged by Huang Kaiwen during defensive backtracking, Gerrard, returning to the backfield, didn’t immediately join his teammates in pressing, instead guarding Huang Kaiwen’s passing line.

Liverpool piled up to five defenders on the left side, yet Huang Kaiwen was still controlling the ball in a small space.

With superb explosiveness and decent technique, he managed to dodge Liverpool’s pressing every time.

Skrtel stretched his foot again, but this time his move was big with his leg extending, pulling his upper body along.

Huang Kaiwen’s eyes lit up; this was the opportunity he awaited.

Crack——

Huang Kaiwen flicked his left foot, dodging the opponent’s foot, and immediately accelerated to break free.

Off-balanced, Skrtel simply fell deliberately towards Huang Kaiwen, grabbing Huang Kaiwen’s arm with both hands, pulling him down.

“Yellow card, free kick— Skrtel really had no choice this time.”

“Let’s see who will take the free kick for Chelsea, it’s near the left big penalty area, well within Huang Kaiwen’s shooting range, oh indeed, Huang Kaiwen is going to take it.”

Huang Kaiwen wasn’t too keen on taking the free kick.

Vardy’s free-kick ability was mediocre, taking it would waste the chance of positioning for a run.

But neither Deco nor Joe Cole wanted to take it today, so it had to be him.

After observing from the foul spot, Huang Kaiwen decided to make a ground cross.

He ran up and kicked the back of the ball.

Bang——

Players from both teams moved quickly in the penalty area, each taking a different position.

Skrtel, forming the wall, didn’t react; the ball bounced off his shin and deflected to the left.

Huang Kaiwen quickly jumped up and controlled the ball with his chest.

Skrtel and Aurelio rushed together towards Huang Kaiwen, who drove to the baseline and suddenly stopped and ran back, reaching the top corner of the penalty area again to directly turn and swing his right foot.

Bang——

The ball flew rapidly into the big penalty area.

This time, the height was not too high, and Carragher, jumping in the center, headed the backside of the ball, changing its trajectory, sailing past Reina’s left hand into the right top corner of the net.

Almost as this goal was scored, the Liverpool world began to collapse.

Reina, lying on the ground unwilling to get up, was a microcosm; Anfield filled only with the cheers of the Chelsea fans.

Inside the Sky Sports studio.

Andy Gray sneered sarcastically: “Kevin thought he would be the player to score the most goals against Liverpool, but he forgot we still have Carragher.”

Chelsea scored their third goal.

In the hospital room, Mourinho, excitedly, raised his arm in victory, then his expression changed, as he clutched his legs, shouting: “My ball…”