"The Napoli midfielders have successfully intercepted the ball."

  "Barade a mistake in their passing under Napoli's intense midfield pressure. Now watch this terattack!"

  "The ball goes to Biglia, but Barca retreats quickly—Xavi is trag back."

  "Biglia switches py to the left, finding Di María."

  "Di María trols the ball on the left wing."

  "Biglia moves up to support him, but Xavi stays tight on him."

  "Di María pys a quick pass to Vil and immediately makes a sprint forward, with Alves chasing after him."

  "Biglia returns the ball to the byline on the left side of the penalty area."

  "Now look at this, Di María and Alves are locked in a footrace!"

  Di María accelerated rapidly, pulling slightly ahead of Alves. But just ihe penalty area, Piqué ositioned he byline, ready to block a low cross.

  The Argentine wiook a quice, i's position was clear in his mind.

  If he pyed a low pass, even if Alves didn't block it, Piqué surely would.

  Without hesitation, as he caught up to the ball with Alves right on his heels, Di María barely adjusted his stride and whipped in a cross with his left foot, aiming directly at the ter of the six-yard box.

  Sánchez was lurking at the back post, keeping Puyol occupied, while Piqué was drawn wide he left edge of the box. This left Busquets as the only one marking i in the middle. The Spaniard tried to keep i behind him.

  As Di María sprinted down the wing, both Busquets and i charged into the penalty area from the edge of the box.

  At first, i feioward the left side of the penalty area, nudging Busquets slightly, making it seem like he inteo run in behind Piqué.

  Busquets, falling for the movement, adjusted his position accly, ensuring that i remained behind him.

  This meant that if Di María wao find i, he would o bypass Busquets first.

  But just as Busquets moved left, i suddenly ged dire, cutting diagonally into the ter of the six-yard box.

  Right at that moment, Di María, having shaken off Alves, delivered his cross.

  Alves, positioned wide, failed to block it. The ball sailed over Piqué, cleared Busquets, and dropped right into the danger zone in front of goal.

  Puyol, ever experienced, reacted instantly, shaking off Sánchez and rushing toward the ball.

  But i had already unched himself forward like a charging tank, surging toward the ball's nding spot. With his powerful leap, he soared above everyone.

  Puyol, despite his strong jumping ability, was at a height disadvantage. i timed his jump perfectly, taking off a fra of a sed earlier, giving him the edge.

  With a anding header, i directed Di María's cross toward the right side of the goal.

  Valdés reacted quickly, he had initially been positioned he left post but scrambled toward the ter. However, he couldn't match the speed of the ball.

  The moment he saw i rise for the header, Valdés flung himself into a dive.

  But he couldn't get there in time.

  "GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!"

  "59th minute—Napoli scores again!"

  "2-0!!!"

  "A brilliant assist from Di María on the left, and i meets it with a powerful header, beating Puyol!"

  "A devastating terattack from Napoli, executed with ruthless efficy!"

  "Bara's defense reacted quickly, but they still couldn't tain Napoli's lightning-fast transition."

  "Once again, we see the vulnerabilities of a three-man defense, particurly behind Alves."

  "In the sed half, after Bara switched formations, Napoli's terattacks have primarily targeted the fnks."

  "Bara is irouble now. Their attack has struggled to break through, and their defensive gaps are being exposed repeatedly."

  "Two-nil, with about 30 minutes left, Barust respond quickly!"

  …

  …

  The live TV broadcast switched to the toue.

  Gao Sheed after the goal, leaped into the air in celebration, his excitement even surpassing that of i, the goal scorer.

  Oher side, Guardio stood motionless on the sideline, a deep frown on his face, exuding frustration and helplessness. No one could tell what was going through his mind.

  Two-nil.

  Despite Bara's increased possession after the tactical shift, their overall performance had remained as iive as in the first half.

  "This goal is a major psychological blow to Bara, especially to Guardio."

  Iands, many iial figures from Italian football had gathered—Lippi, Ulivieri, Capello, Ai, and others. Together, they watched, analyzed, and discussed the match.

  After seeing i's goal, Lippi shook his head and sighed, his expression indig deep doubts about Bara's ces.

  "Guardio is still too inexperienced. A halftime substitution is uandable, but switg to a 3-4-3 in such a high-stakes match is overly ambitious. No matter his reasoning, making such a radical adjustment in su intense test risks harming his own team more than the oppo."

  Lippi's assessment earned nods of agreement from those around him.

  The legendary "Silver Fox" had always been known for his sharp tactical eye.

  "The team was pletely smothered in the first half. Napoli's tactical discipline and off-the-ball movement were outstanding," Ulivieri observed. "I heard that ever sihe quarterfinals against Maer United, Gao Shen has drilled his pyers relentlessly on pressing and positional py every single day."

  Guardio probably saw that he had the upper hand in the first half but couldn't vert it into goals or real threats, so he wao adjust and strengthen Bara's wing py. But who would have thought..."

  Ulivieri paused, then g Capello, who sat upright.

  "This match reminds me of the final at the Olympic Stadium in Athens."

  Capello's expression ged slightly as he turo look at Ulivieri.

  The tter smiled faintly. "Who knows, the scoreline might just repeat itself! It's been a long time since we've seen more than foals in a Champions League final."

  Ba the 1993-94 season, one of the most iic Champions League finals took pce at the Olympic Stadium in Athens, Greece.

  Capello, managing A, faced Cruyff's Bara in what was expected to be a tightly tested match.

  It had been a remarkable season.

  At the time, Capello's Min had stumbled through the group stage. They narrowly secured first pce by edging out Porto, coached by Bobby Robson. Among Porto's staff at the time was a young interpreter named José Mourinho.

  Iher group, Cruyff's Bara had stormed through, pying dazzling attag football. They had vingly beaten tough oppos, including Monaco from Ligue 1, topping their group with ease.

  Ially, Monaanager back then was her than Arsène Wenger.

  The Champions League format had been undergoing reforms in the early '90s, with fewer teams participating. Only the domestic league champions qualified, and the format was stantly evolving. However, the core principle remained, introdug a group stage to increase the number of matches.

  In the 1993-94 season, the tour featured 32 teams, who first pyed two rounds of two-legged knockout ties. The remaini teams were then divided into two groups, with the top two from each advang directly to the semi-finals.

  The semi-finals were also two-legged affairs, pitting the first-pce team from one group against the sed-pce team from the other.

  By this stage, the modern Champions League format was beginning to take shape.

  Before the final, Cruyff, the architect of Bara's philosophy, was still young and brimming with fidence perhaps even arrogance. His side's performances had been dominant, and he didn't shy away from making bold statements.

  While iing the venue, he remarked that the real A had been the one under Sacchi, featuring the legendary Dutch trio of Gullit, Rijkaard, and Van Basten. He dismissed Capello's Min as a team that relied too heavily on defensive pyers like Desailly.

  "We will be the winners, there is no doubt. We are more plete, more petitive. They rely only on defense, while we py beautiful, attag football."

  Those were Cruyff's exact words.

  In the month leading up to the final, Bara had won six secutive matches, sg 20 goals and g just 3. Their attag trio—Romário, Stoichkov, and Begiristain (now Bara's teical director)—had bined for 91 goals that season. They seemed unstoppable.

  But on the night of the final, none of them showed up.

  Meanwhile, Min's terattacks shredded Bara's defeo pieces.

  The bae, anchored by Guardio and Koeman, was pletely overwhelmed.

  The result?

  4-0.

  A crushi.

  Capello had orchestrated one of the most dominant performances in Champions League final history.

  …

  Even though 15 years had passed, for Lippi, Ulivieri, Capello, and the rest of the veterans, the memories remained vivid.

  They had witnessed history. They had shaped football.

  Now, as they sat iands, they were watg a new geion take the stage.

  Ulivieri's parisoween Napoli vs. Bara and that legendary final wasn't without reason.

  Gao Shen, from the moment he emerged in football, had often been called "Capello II."

  Meanwhile, Guardio was Cruyff's direct disciple.

  If it had been anyone else, they might have been thrilled to hear such a parison.

  But Capello?

  His expression remained as cold as ever.

  "He is nothing like me," he said ftly.

  Ulivieri chuckled. "That's true. He's not as servative as you."

  Capello's brow furrowed.

  He didn't like the sound of that.

  servative? Me?

  Lippi, seated nearby, couldn't help but grin.

  "After tonight, he'll have more Champions League titles than you."

  Capello's eye twitched.