"Congratutions, Gao!"
"Thanks!"
A white-haired UEFA official approached, but Gao Shen couldn't recall his name.
After shaking hands, the official gestured for Gao Shen to gather all his pyers. The podium was almost ready, and both teams would soon begin the awards ceremony.
"Barcelona will go up first, and you and your pyers will stand on both sides," the UEFA official expined, pointing to the entrance of the podium. He then went over the entire awards process and added, "This is the tradition for Champions League winners and runners-up."
Gao Shen understood.
The UEFA panel goes up first, followed by the runners-up, and finally, the champions.
Traditionally, the winning team lines up to escort both the judges and the runners-up to the podium, a show of sportsmanship.
All around the stadium, media crews and TV stations partnered with UEFA roamed the pitch with portable cameras, capturing every moment.
In the distance, the Barcelona pyers huddled together, their expressions filled with disappointment.
Losing such a major final and missing out on the treble was devastating, especially for some pyers, who might never get another chance to lift the Champions League trophy.
Like Thierry Henry.
The French forward had left Arsenal for Barcelona with one goal, to finally win the Champions League.
After securing La Liga and the Copa del Rey this season, he was determined to complete the treble. But after suffering such a crushing defeat in the final, how could he accept it?
This might have been his st chance at Champions League glory.
Guardio and Vinova stood to the side, both looking completely dejected, especially Guardio.
For him, this match had been like a major exam.
And he had failed.
The moment Napoli scored their second goal in the second half, he knew he was powerless.
There was no way to turn things around.
As he stood there, fragments of past conversations with Gao Shen surfaced in his mind.
Looking back now, Gao Shen had truly understood him.
…
Victory belongs to the strong, while defeat isotes the weak.
This was on full dispy at the Stadio Olimpico tonight.
Napoli, the victorious side, was showered with appuse and praise.
Barcelona, meanwhile, stood in the shadows, not daring to step forward.
Every pyer was processing the loss in their own way.
Some, like Yaya Touré, were filled with grief and frustration.
Some, like Henry, were disheartened.
And others—Messi, Eto'o, Xavi, Iniesta—were simply furious at the way they had lost.
While the world's attention was elsewhere, Barcelona's president, Joan Laporta, descended from the VIP stands with his entourage.
He approached the pyers one by one, embracing them and offering words of encouragement, especially Guardio.
Laporta hugged his manager tightly, urging him not to be discouraged and to keep pushing forward.
"Everyone, no matter what, this has been a successful season for Barcelona."
"On behalf of the club, I promise that we will invest heavily in top-tier pyers this summer. Next season, we will come back stronger and recim the Champions League!"
Laporta was known for being unreliable at times, but at this moment, his leadership was crucial.
His words lifted the pyers' spirits, and many forced themselves to respond to his rallying cry.
Even the Barcelona fans in the stands reacted, breaking into appuse to encourage their team.
Just then, a UEFA official arrived to inform them, the podium was ready.
…
"Congratutions, Gao!"
"Thanks!"
Gao Shen hugged Guardio, repeating the phrase he had said countless times that night.
The word he had used the most tonight was thank you.
"This final turned out exactly as you predicted, I lost," Guardio admitted frankly.
"I… didn't win that much," Gao Shen chuckled.
Guardio was momentarily stunned before bursting into ughter. He gently patted Gao Shen's shoulder.
The two shared a strong friendship, often teasing each other behind the scenes.
But Gao Shen had always believed that Guardio's tactical approach had a fundamental fw, it cked flexibility.
Many people viewed Mourinho as a control freak, but in reality, Guardio was just as obsessive.
His tactical instructions were so detailed that he even dictated how Henry should move.
That's Thierry Henry!
One of the greatest strikers in the world!
Gao Shen had seen this kind of thing before, not in football, but in his previous life, working in a company.
Overly rigid rules and excessively detailed regutions often did more harm than good.
He remembered an incident from back then.
One day, he urgently needed a document signed, so he went to a sister department.
Unfortunately, the person responsible for that task was on leave.
It was a small issue, there were over a dozen colleagues in that department, and anyone could have signed it.
But no one was willing to.
Not because they had a bad retionship with Gao Shen.
In fact, they were colleagues, often working together and even eating lunch as a group.
But their reasoning was simple.
"It's the company's business, not ours. Just wait until the responsible person returns and let them handle it. Why take responsibility for something that's not our job?"
A football pitch is different from a corporate office, but Gao Shen believed that some fundamental principles remained the same.
If a system is too rigid, too detailed, it may look efficient on paper but in reality, it often becomes impractical.
Of course, having no rules leads to chaos.
That's why, throughout history, management has always been a delicate bancing act.
…
Howard Webb and the UEFA judging panel took the stage first to receive their awards.
Next, Guardio led the Barcelona pyers onto the podium.
Napoli lined up on both sides of the tunnel, appuding as they made their way up.
Once Barcelona had received their medals and exited the stage, it was finally Napoli's turn.
However, just before they were about to go up, a small incident occurred.
According to protocol, a club official was supposed to go on stage to accept a commemorative badge on behalf of the team.
General Manager Marino had already stepped forward, leading the team and preparing to go up.
But just as he was about to take the final step, De Laurentiis appeared.
The bearded Napoli owner, rarely seen in formal attire, walked straight up to Marino and told him to step aside. He insisted that he would be the one to accept the award on behalf of the team.
"No, boss, didn't you say earlier that you didn't want to go on stage?" Marino protested, looking aggrieved.
"It's not that I didn't want to… I originally pnned to give you the opportunity. But now that I think about it, your image, especially that shiny bald head just doesn't represent Napoli properly. So I have to do it myself!" De Laurentiis decred confidently.
"But…"
"It's fine! This is a birthday gift from God to me. How could I possibly refuse it?" De Laurentiis said with a straight face.
A birthday gift from God?
Gao Shen and the pyers were stunned.
Wait… today's his birthday?
Damn, no one knew!
"Boss, your birthday is on the 24th. Today is the 27th," Marino pointed out.
De Laurentiis snorted. "When I was born, the registration date was incorrect. My mother told me I was actually born on the 27th." Then, he narrowed his eyes at Marino. "Satisfied now?"
Marino was completely intimidated.
He couldn't expin it, but whenever he faced his boss, he always felt a deep sense of dread.
But the chance to stand on the Champions League podium… that was once in a lifetime.
"Boss, traditionally, it's the general manager who accepts the award. Why go through all this trouble yourself?" Marino tried one st time, forcing a smile.
De Laurentiis ignored him and turned to Gao Shen instead. Smirking, he asked, "Gao, do you think our team even has a general manager?"
Gao Shen had been enjoying the show, but the moment he was dragged into it, he immediately understood what was happening.
He gnced at poor Marino—deeply sympathizing with the man for having such an unreasonable boss.
"Honestly… not really," Gao Shen ughed.
Marino's jaw dropped. He pointed at Gao Shen, completely speechless.
Gao… I didn't expect you to be this kind of person!
De Laurentiis also burst into ughter. He turned back to Marino. "So, Pierpaolo, does Napoli have a general manager?"
Marino felt like he was being forced into submission.
But what choice did he have?
He was just an employee.
"Boss, you go ahead. I'll just… watch from the sidelines." Marino almost teared up.
Satisfied, De Laurentiis strutted forward, leading the team like a mafia don, waving his hand grandly for everyone to follow.
Gao Shen happily walked behind him. As he passed Marino, he shot him a look full of sympathy.
The rest of the Napoli pyers did the same.
Poor Marino.
His once-in-a-lifetime chance to step onto the Champions League podium had just been mercilessly stolen from him.
Such is the fate of a working man!
…
"Oh my God, Gao, I don't even know how to describe my feelings right now. We are all so proud of you. Thank you for everything you've done for European football!"
When Gao Shen reached UEFA President Michel Ptini, the Frenchman was visibly emotional.
After speaking, he pulled Gao Shen into a big hug.
To be honest, Gao Shen felt extremely uncomfortable.
Ptini was short, so Gao Shen had to lean down to hug him—an awkward position that made him feel stiff.
Afterward, he spotted Juan Carlos, the man who still owed him the Spanish throne.
Upon seeing Gao Shen, the former king beamed and said, "I owe you a meal at Juan's House BBQ Restaurant!"
His tone and expression were so eager, s o excessively friendly that Gao Shen decided to let him off the hook.
He also exchanged a few words with high-ranking Italian government officials before greeting senior diplomats and Chinese ambassadors visiting Italy.
As Napoli's captain, Montevino, prepared to lift the Champions League trophy, Gao Shen quietly stepped aside, deliberately avoiding the center of attention.
He left the prime spot for his pyers.
Tonight, he wasn't afraid of being overshadowed.
Because what he was about to do next…
No one had ever done before.
***
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