Football: Messi, I am your wallbreaker!

Chapter 51 The Medical Team in Munich!

50 minutes later.

Training is finally over.

The players dragged their weary steps to the shower.

Next, we prepared to go to the rehabilitation room for a massage and ice bath.

……

But on the sidelines.

Ortega, the team doctor who was in charge of recording the data, had a dark expression on his face!

He walked directly up to Simone and said:

"Boss! This won't do!"

"You can't treat my Li like a stud pig; he'll be worked to death!"

Simone was also a little helpless, and he swung the A4 paper in his hand so hard that it made a rustling sound.

"The tactics of this depleted formation were surprisingly effective, and Li Jing was indeed able to hold the line."

"But its only, and most fatal, problem is that it's a bit too taxing on Li Jing!"

Ortega's finger jabbed at the top row of glaring data like a nail.

"Look at this heat map! In this 50-minute training match today, he ran almost 8,000 meters! He sprinted over 50 times!"

Ortega's eyes were bloodshot, and his voice was extremely stern.

"If we continue to fight on two fronts, and you keep pushing him to the limit with his playing time every week, what if his body can't keep up with this massive physical strain?"

"His muscles will eventually break down completely!"

"He's still a child."

"I think we should treat him the way Barcelona treats Messi."

"Use it sparingly!"

……

Simeone listened to the team doctor's angry roar, which carried a strong warning tone.

The old man's stubble-covered chin suddenly tightened, and his two sharp eyebrows shot upwards.

He let out a deep sigh.

Simone gritted his teeth and rubbed his face.

"Since the tactics can't be changed, then the logistics must be done to the absolute limit!"

Simone stared intently at Ortega.

"You all keep a close eye on him. His post-competition deep stretching and acid removal are absolutely crucial and cannot be neglected!"

He uttered this command, then abruptly turned around and sprinted towards the coaching bench on the sidelines.

Simeone grabbed his phone from the bench and dialed the club's sporting director directly.

As soon as the call connected, Simone didn't give the other party any chance to exchange pleasantries.

His voice instantly soared to its highest decibel level.

"Director Caminero, please listen to me...!"

The person on the other end of the phone seemed to hesitate, but they understood.

I just want money.

……

"Yes! It has to be the absolute best!"

Ten minutes later.

Simone hung up the phone and casually stuffed it into his suit pocket.

Then he quickly followed her to the rehabilitation room.

……

We've entered the rehabilitation room.

Li Jing has already started applying ice.

"Snapped!"

Simone stretched out his large palm and slapped Li Jing's broad, sturdy back with tremendous force.

"plum!"

"Next season, I will adjust your playing time accordingly."

"But right now, the team's tactics only allow you to maintain a high intensity level..."

Simone looked at Li Jing, seemingly a little embarrassed.

After all, no matter how you put it, it sounds like a form of exploitation or manipulation.

"The club has already written a check and brought in a top-level sports rehabilitation medical team from Munich, Germany for you!"

They won't do anything else; starting tomorrow, these four experts will be devoted to you 24/7!

Simone held up two fingers and waved them in front of Li Jing's eyes.

"The club is paying for its own top-tier weekly expenses of 200,000 euros!"

These words were spoken with great swiftness and decisiveness.

The club's management was forced to comply with the head coach's demands, resulting in a staggering 200,000 euros being spent on medical expenses.

This is not only an absolute guarantee on a material level, but also a complete release of the shock and recognition accumulated from the first two games!

They are willing to pay this money for Li Jing.

Li Jing was holding a red plastic water bottle, ready to drink water and replenish her fluids.

Hearing the extremely large and specific figure of "200,000 euros per week" was quite a shock.

His right hand, holding the kettle, froze in mid-air, less than ten centimeters from his lips.

Li Jing couldn't help but compare the weekly medical care expenses with his meager contract salary.

Who could resist competing like this?

Two seconds later.

Li Jing slowly raised his head, looking at Simone with a speechless and extremely abstract expression.

"The despicable face of capitalism is just too disgusting."

Li Jingdao.

"They're willing to spend a staggering 200,000 euros a week to have German experts give me high-end body care..."

Li Jing suddenly raised his voice:

"And the contract I just signed only pays a paltry 50,000 euros a week?!"

"This maintenance fee is four times my salary?!"

Forget it.

Fortunately, he was not short of money.

He doesn't really care about the club's fixed salary anymore.

……

Afternoon of the 16th.

The Madrid sun began to set. In the plaza of the Calderón training ground, a luxury bus emblazoned with the enormous Atlético Madrid logo was parked.

All the players, dressed in matching black tracksuits and carrying black travel bags bearing the club logo, boarded the bus bound for Pamplona.

This is an extremely crucial away game.

Li Jing walked to the middle and back of the bus with her backpack and chose a window seat.

He skillfully stuffed the huge sports travel bag into the overhead luggage rack.

He then pulled a pair of black noise-canceling headphones out of his pocket and put them on.

With the activation of physical noise reduction, the noise from Courtois and Costa inside the carriage was instantly shut out.

Li Jing adjusted his seat back, completely relaxed, and closed his eyes to rest.

In his mind, the reward of 50,000 hours of special training was like an extremely tempting piece of fat, hanging right in front of him.

Tomorrow's match against Osasuna will be the ultimate test for their depleted squad.

The bus emitted a low hiss as it slowly drove out of the base gate.

……

Meanwhile.

The city of Pamplona, ​​hundreds of kilometers from Madrid. The area outside Osasuna's home stadium, El Sadar Stadium.

The city is now completely engulfed in an incredible, extreme celebration.

Everywhere you look, there are home fans wearing red jerseys. They just pulled off a stunning upset in the last round of the league, defeating the Messi-led Barcelona at home!

The bars and streets were filled with sprayed beer and frenzied shouting.

"Giant killers! We're fucking giant killers!"

"Even those aliens from Barcelona have to bow down to us, what are Atletico Madrid tomorrow!"

Next to an outdoor café in the square.

A young boy wearing a red and blue plaid shirt was clutching two tickets for tomorrow's home team game tightly in his hand.

He stood in front of a beautiful girl with a full head of blonde hair, his cheeks flushed red.

The boy took a deep breath and, as if using all his strength, loudly confessed his feelings.

"Maria! If the team beats Atletico Madrid tomorrow! If you see with your own eyes us sending Simeone's team packing!"

The boy shoved the ticket forward sharply, his voice firm.

"I'm officially inviting you on a date!"

The girl covered her mouth and chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

In this city currently blinded by victory, everyone thinks that Atletico Madrid, which has just changed coaches and has been struggling in the relegation zone for half its time, is a different story.

"Okay, it's just a date, right? You can't do anything else to me while you've been drinking..."

……