The commentator's passion didn't wane because of the audience's lack of enthusiasm; instead, his voice grew even louder, and everyone in the stadium could hear the excitement suppressed in his throat.
"Let's welcome the United States Team's mascot to perform!"
Suddenly, several bird calls echoed from the sky, a continuous clang that shook the heavens.
In an instant, a strong wind arose, accompanied by lightning and thunder in the sky. The rumbling thunder startled everyone, dark clouds gathered, and the sky changed dramatically.
Because the audience stands were open-air, the spectators sitting there couldn't look up against the strong wind.
However, the First Class rooms were enclosed, so no matter how fiercely the strong wind raged outside, those inside the rooms remained unaffected.
"Thunderbird!" Lily stood up. The First Class glass had returned to normal, and through it, she saw the tail of a Thunderbird flash across the dense dark clouds.
"We spent nearly a hundred thousand Galleons transporting these Thunderbirds from the Arizona desert," Corella chuckled triumphantly, "Doesn't it look much more spectacular than armadillos rolling around?"
The Brazilian Ministry of Magic Minister, João Havelange, next to her, looked grim, making his already brownish face appear even darker.
They simply didn't prioritize Quidditch matches. If it weren't for Ronaldo unexpectedly appearing, they wouldn't even have made it out of the group stage.
This time, they scrimped and saved to get ten thousand Galleons to sponsor the team. If the team members hadn't been so competitive and secured sponsorship from nimbus Company, they wouldn't even be able to afford a nimbus 1005.
After breaking through, another problem arose: the ten thousand Galleons they brought had long been spent. While the World Cup prize money was indeed substantial, it couldn't be distributed before the end of the tournament. The team members were understanding and paid for the entire team's, including the coaches', food and lodging themselves.
The country was so poor that even the team members couldn't afford to eat, so where would they get the money to transport a mascot?
If the Quidditch Committee hadn't strongly objected, the Brazilian Minister himself would have used Transfiguration to conjure a mascot.
You don't know the cost of living until you run a household. The Brazilian Minister looked at the Thunderbirds flying in the sky through the glass, filled with envy.
The cost of transporting these dead birds could buy his life several times over.
The spectators in the open-air seats were initially caught off guard by the strong wind, but now they had reacted. After casting a few auxiliary spells on themselves, they too could look up at the sky, cheering with raised hands towards where the Thunderbirds were gathered.
The Thunderbirds only appeared for five minutes before being taken away by their trainers.
The strong wind ceased, the dark clouds dispersed, revealing a crescent moon.
"The United States Team's mascot has also finished its performance. I now declare the match officially started!"
The fourteen players from both teams stood in a large circle in the center of the field, then shook hands with each other. The captains, Ronaldo and Steve Rogers, tossed a Galleon near the referee to decide sides.
Brazil won and would attack first.
"Gomez has the ball, passes to Silva, both are moving forward side by side, Rocha is flying at the very front, they've set up the classic Hawk-Head attacking formation!"
The commentator spoke very quickly, enunciating clearly, showing excellent professional ability.
"They've bypassed Westbrook, Rocha receives the Quaffle, he wants to shoot… ah, Steve's Bludger disrupted his rhythm, and the shot went wide."
"The United States Team serves, Paul's rhythm is very good, he's bypassed one person… two people, he's facing Silva's defensive backup to shoot! Ah no, he throws the ball straight down, Westbrook was already waiting there! A beautiful Pokov Ploy, Westbrook scores the first ten points of the match against Cafu!"
The audience didn't stint on their applause; this match was indeed spectacular.
"I think the United States Team is going to win," Alfrina whispered to Gary.
"If Ronaldo can't catch the Golden Snitch before the score difference widens, the United States Team's chances of winning are definitely very high," Gary nodded in agreement.
The commentator at the commentary booth was getting a bit too excited, letting anything slip out.
"Westbrook is up against Silva, hey right, Westbrook is playing him!"
"…Silva, don't hesitate, Paul is too short to block you, accelerate and gain a position, good shot… too bad it didn't go in, but it was a very reasonable shot by Silva. The team's scoring responsibility is all on him, he is the core of Brazil…"
"…Oh, Gomez's shot hit the goalpost directly, too bad it didn't go in, but it was a good shot, very reasonable."
As the match progressed, the score difference between the two teams gradually widened, reaching one hundred twenty points to ten points, and the game situation gradually spiraled out of control.
Now, the only suspense in the match was whether Ronaldo could find the Golden Snitch before the score difference widened to one hundred fifty points.
Ronaldo circled aimlessly in the air on his nimbus 1005, while the United States Team's Seeker, Allen, followed him like a shadow, giving him no opportunity.
He watched as Steve Rogers's powerful Bludger forced Rocha back again, turning a carefully planned attack into nothing.
The United States Team was simply too strong. Ronaldo could barely muster any thought of resistance. The match had only been going on for less than forty minutes, and the Quidditch World Cup trophy was already slipping away from him.
Ronaldo's eyes were unfocused. From the group stage to the semifinals, he had only failed in one match, catching the Golden Snitch and turning the tide to win in all other matches, carrying Brazil stumbling into the Final.
His eyes swept across the stands of the stadium. He saw many spectators in the Brazilian camp wiping away tears.
He remembered how he and his teammates went from being underestimated to being championship favorites, from being called "easy points" by outsiders to being formidable opponents.
He recalled the Australia World Cup four years ago, where he led Brazil into the semifinals, breaking the team's best historical record, only to suffer a crushing defeat to the defending champions, England, and had to sit in the Final stands watching England lift the trophy!
That year, at eighteen, sitting like a nobody, I vowed with tears that everyone must see me.
Overcoming hardships and obstacles, breaking through barriers, all just for a chance to prove himself, to make them remember his name!
Ronaldo's fighting spirit surged. He drove his broom to accelerate continuously. The nimbus 1005 and his body were a perfect fit, and its acceleration ability was significantly stronger than Allen's.
He didn't see the Golden Snitch, but simply led Allen in circles around the edge of the field.
Allen's task tonight was to keep an eye on Ronaldo. In that short time, Westbrook of the United States Team had scored another goal, and they were getting closer and closer to victory.
Just a little longer, he mustered his fighting spirit and gritted his teeth, persisting in following behind Ronaldo, but he still couldn't change the speed difference between them. The distance between them had widened from half a broom to a full broom length.
Ronaldo circled the field for five minutes, and the score difference had already widened to one hundred forty points. Not much time was left for Brazil.
He steered the nimbus to turn, chasing after that flash of light. He was like a dazzling meteor rushing towards his dream.