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"Ward-Prowse and Leo Lin are undoubtedly both Free Kick Specialists in the Premier League."
"But I'd say Leo Lin's free kicks are even more dangerous — the drop is sharper, more vicious."
Across every broadcast, slow-motion replays of Leo Lin's strike rolled again and again, analysts breaking down every frame of his technique.
Everyone wanted to know: how did he pull that off?
The replay revealed the secret.
"Honestly, if you can do this, you can hit a free kick like that too." Gerrard focused on Leo Lin's motion, especially the angle of his supporting ankle.
"But here's the problem — if you're a normal person, your ankle probably can't twist like his."
"If I tried that, I'd tear my ligaments on the spot. The physios would be carrying me off and I'd be out for at least a month."
"And yet Leo Lin uses that unconventional motion to produce that violent dip. Is he even human?"
"If we ever get the chance, we should dissect him and see how he's built. Might push human evolution forward."
Gerrard nodded seriously, clearly satisfied with his own logic.
Fans watching the replay were just as stunned by the sheer distortion of Leo Lin's ankle.
"I'm telling you, he ate the Rubber Fruit. Investigate immediately."
"This isn't normal. No regular human can bend like that."
"Are you sure he didn't sprain it? That angle looks illegal."
Some genuinely believed he had twisted his ankle — until they saw him sprinting and celebrating like a madman.
Doubt vanished.
With another direct free kick goal, Liverpool regained the lead and surged forward again.
This time, they weren't giving Southampton another lifeline.
Manchester City fans watching at home felt the hope drain out of them. They had counted on Southampton to slow Liverpool down.
But the match belonged entirely to Liverpool now.
Every commentary angle revolved around their attack.
"Here comes Liverpool again!"
"Quick one-touch passing! Through ball to the left — surgical precision to Mané!"
"Shift, spin — Marseille Turn!"
Mané was electric. He burst into the box, executed a gorgeous Marseille Turn, shook his defender, and squared it across goal.
Salah arrived and calmly tapped into an empty net.
4–2.
Southampton were unraveling.
Play resumed, and they looked completely overwhelmed.
Klopp made a change — Lucas replaced Henderson.
Lucas brought forward passing and his sweeping Interception ability, giving Liverpool even more control.
87th minute.
"Højbjerg driving forward — one-on-one with Lucas!"
"He tries to force it — dispossessed!"
"Leo Lin doesn't even track back. That's total faith in Lucas."
Lucas won the ball cleanly and fired a direct pass to Leo Lin.
Leo Lin ran toward it — but instead of controlling, he suddenly opened his legs and let it roll through.
A perfectly timed dummy.
Firmino collected behind him.
The Brazilian striker flicked it first-time with his ankle, feeding it right back into Leo Lin's path.
A vertical wall pass carved through Southampton's defensive third.
Leo Lin lifted his leg for a long-range strike —
Foul.
Pulled down at the right edge of the penalty arc.
Fox practically sat on the turf, clutching Leo Lin's arm just to stop him.
Another free kick.
Even Ward-Prowse looked tense now.
As a fellow Free Kick Specialist, he understood: when a master catches fire, it becomes unstoppable.
Leo Lin was in that state.
The honeymoon phase.
Everything he touched felt perfect.
In gaming terms, the arrow was pointing straight up.
Southampton built their wall again.
Leo Lin stood over the ball, relaxed, eyes locked on them.
"Looking at Leo Lin's expression right now," Jon Champion said,
"I'm reminded of a sentence."
"You and your wall look equally ridiculous."
Before the words even settled, Leo Lin began his run-up.
Three steps.
Right foot planted.
Left leg whipped through.
His thigh drove forward, lower leg slicing down.
The inside of his forward-angled ankle struck the lower-middle of the ball — wrapping it.
No dip this time.
No knuckle.
Just pure curl.
The ball spun viciously, sliding past the outer edge of the wall — brushing the hair of the leftmost defender — before bending inward and tucking perfectly inside the post.
The goalkeeper didn't move.
"GOAL!!!!"
Gerrard applauded, shaking his head.
"One word."
"Ridiculous."
"Three free kicks. Three direct strikes. Three goals."
"The first was a low skimmer."
"The second, a vicious dipping elevator."
"The third, a pure bending curler."
"Any one of those would be textbook material."
"If a player scores even one like that, he'd smile in his sleep."
"But Leo Lin just completed a free kick hat-trick in a single Premier League match."
"That's a record."
"Now that's a Free Kick Specialist!"
Firmino was losing his mind.
Leo Lin sprinted to the corner flag, gripping it with his left hand while raising three fingers with his right.
Firmino stood behind him, staring intensely.
"Leo, please!"
"Teach me how to become a free kick master!"
Leo Lin said nothing.
He just kept playing.
And in stoppage time, he did it again.
Another direct free kick.
Another goal.
Firmino nearly collapsed.
Ward-Prowse stood frozen.
No one — no fan, young or old — had ever seen four direct free kicks in a single Premier League match.
Who would believe this if you told them?
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