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"Lance, you came off the bench today and scored two goals. How would you rate your performance?"
"Just so-so, normal performance."
"Mr. Lance, this is Madrid TV. Why do you score every time you come on as a substitute? Do you have a secret?"
Because I am a cheater.
Lance muttered internally.
"It's because I specialize in observing match details from the bench. A lot of situations that are hard to read from inside the field are much clearer from the sidelines. As long as you think carefully about how to win and how to exploit the opponent's weaknesses to create chances, anyone can achieve this."
The reporters around him responded with polite, slightly strained smiles.
Anyone can do it?
"And will you be starting against Manchester City in three days? Can Atlético Madrid beat them?"
"The specific lineup is up to the coaching staff. I hope to get as much playing time as possible."
Lance's answer was unusually diplomatic this time, and Ms. Hanna Müller, standing nearby, quietly exhaled. She was always on edge about Lance saying something unfiltered that would ignite a controversy. Every time, her PR team ended up spending days managing the fallout.
"As for beating Manchester City, of course we have a chance. Our goal is the Champions League."
There was not much more to add.
Atlético Madrid were currently the third favorite to win the title, though their odds were nearly identical to Barcelona's. Real Madrid sat at the top of the betting markets, and understandably so. The competition in their half of the bracket was relatively manageable, and they were widely expected to reach the final. The battles in the other half would be far more brutal for Barcelona and Atlético Madrid.
As for Manchester City, Bayern Munich, and Paris Saint-Germain, one could only say they had drawn the short straw, running into three La Liga teams at the peak of their powers. If anyone wanted to see La Liga's decline, they would probably have to wait another ten years, when the balance of power would shift entirely. But that was a long way off.
Having secured the three points, the whole Atlético Madrid squad boarded a plane the following day and flew to Manchester.
"The sky in Manchester is pretty blue today."
"What do you mean? Isn't Manchester's sky supposed to be red?"
"Come on, that changed a long time ago."
The plane banked over the city and both Griezmann and Saúl, peering out at the clear weather, started cracking jokes. Fortunately, there were no Manchester United fans on the flight, or there would have been real tears.
What had happened to the former rulers of the Premier League? Everyone had assumed that the world-famous Van Gaal would turn things around.
Instead, under his management, Manchester United had put their foot on the accelerator toward decline and couldn't pull back. Having spent close to 100 million that summer, Van Gaal had earned the nickname "Van the Hundred Million Spender" on the Chinese internet.
It hadn't helped. Martial, brought in at great expense, had looked sharp in his first few appearances, but his performances had tailed off badly since. Meanwhile, the academy product Rashford had stepped up brilliantly, throwing Van Gaal a lifeline just as the sack was being sharpened.
Thinking about what lay ahead for Rashford, Lance found himself smiling.
Manchester United was like a black hole for players and coaches. Whoever went in stopped performing. But as soon as they got out, they seemed to rediscover themselves completely.
Still lost in his own thoughts, Lance and the team checked into a five-star hotel in Manchester.
The following day, they made the trip to the Etihad Stadium to get a feel for the pitch. Pre-match preparations went smoothly, and before long, it was matchday.
"Hey Jude, don't make it bad!"
"Take a sad song and make it better!"
Lance was jolted awake early in the morning by singing outside the hotel.
Manchester City fans' favorite pre-match anthem. He looked down through the window.
A crowd of Manchester City supporters in blue jerseys were making a tremendous racket outside, singing at full volume, deliberately trying to wreck the sleep of the Atlético Madrid players. Clearly, someone had tipped them off about the hotel location.
Several of them were already drunk before 6 AM.
Football hooligans. A proud English tradition.
Simeone stormed out of his room with his hair all over the place and called the police immediately. The Manchester Police took their sweet time about it, offered some reassurances over the phone, and finally sent a car around about an hour later to disperse the crowd.
Lance looked around at his teammates. Every one of them was awake and wrecked, eyes glazed, energy drained before the day had even started.
"I hope this doesn't mess with our performance."
Griezmann, who was sharing Lance's room, looked genuinely worried. His eyes were red from lack of sleep.
"Let's hope not."
Lance couldn't get back to sleep, so he drank a bottle of [Ordinary Red Bull] to get himself back up to full physical and mental sharpness. Then he headed down to the hotel gym for some cardio. After a good sweat and a shower, he felt noticeably better.
The rest of the Atlético Madrid squad in the cafeteria, though, looked half-dead.
"Don't eat too much, we have a game tonight."
"Everyone get some exercise after breakfast!"
The coaching staff were making the rounds through the restaurant, keeping a quiet eye on the state of their players, clearly a little concerned.
It was a familiar problem. Away trips almost always threw something like this at you. Lance had seen it more than once before. Back during his time in Leverkusen, opposing fans had set off fireworks outside the hotel at three in the morning, waking up half the street. If a team lacked sportsmanship, they would use every trick available to undermine the visitors.
As professional players, complaining got you nowhere. You adjusted, you managed your condition as best you could, and you got on with it.
"Welcome to LeSports. Today, we bring you the first leg of the 2015-16 Champions League quarter-finals. Premier League powerhouse Manchester City host the La Liga challengers Atlético Madrid at the Etihad Stadium! Lance, who came off the bench three days ago in La Liga and scored twice, now has 42 league goals to his name..."
"Good heavens!"
LeSports' smartest decision had been bringing in Jian Jun and pairing him with Instructor Zhang for Champions League coverage. As a result, many fans who could easily watch the match on CCTV5 for free were choosing to stream it online just to listen to Jian Jun's commentary.
Commentator Duan Xuan also had a loyal audience waiting in front of their TV sets.
Instructor Zhang and Jian Jun worked brilliantly together, with Instructor Zhang playing the straight man, like a football version of Yu Qian, feeding the lines while the reactions came naturally.
Truly the most popular sports star in the country.
Instructor Zhang had always felt a private pride watching Lance shine on the world stage. The only real regret was that the Belgian Football Association had got their hands on him at 16, making it impossible for him to ever represent the Chinese national team. Instructor Zhang didn't dare think too hard about what might have been if Lance had played for China. Could he have dragged them to a World Cup?
"De Bruyne, who joined Manchester City from Bayer Leverkusen this season, has been outstanding in the Premier League and currently leads the assists chart. These two Belgian stars will be going head-to-head for their respective clubs tonight!"
Jian Jun's hands were already trembling slightly at the microphone.
The showdown fans had been waiting nearly a month for was about to begin.