Lin Ye is one meter sixty-five tall.
In primary school, he played badminton. His PE teacher crouched down and asked him, “Can you even reach the net?”
He went on to win the city championship.
In middle school, he played soccer. His deskmate laughed and shook his head. “You're so short. How could you possibly win?”
He scored four goals against the other team in a single match.
During the high school team selection, the coach closed the roster.
“Too short. You can't play striker.”
He started as a substitute and eventually became the league's Best Striker.
On the day of the final, the opposing coach stood on the sidelines and shouted at his defenders:
“Don't bother marking that shorty. He can't win a high ball.”
Then Lin Ye scored a hat-trick.
Amid the doubts and accusations from the entire crowd, he crouched down, took off his soccer shoes, and pulled off his socks.
Two-kilogram sandbags were strapped around his ankles.
The bottoms of his feet were covered in blisters that had been rubbed raw, healed, and rubbed raw again.
He had worn those sandbags for three years.
During training.
During matches.
Someone said he was abusing himself.
He said,
“It's not self-abuse.”
“It's just that there are too many people telling me I can't do it.”
At the provincial team trials, the coach told him:
“Your physical condition is something you're born with.”
“You can't play professional football.”
He placed the two sandbags on the desk and asked:
“In professional football, does scoring still mean kicking the ball into that goal?”
Later, he stayed.
He was still one meter sixty-five.
There were still people who decided at first glance that he couldn't do it.
But he never explained himself.
He simply made his runs.
Attacked the ball.
Took his shots.
The goal was 2.44 meters high and 7.32 meters wide.
Being short didn't matter.
As long as he could reach the ball, that was enough.
It didn't matter whether other people could see him.
As long as the scoreboard could.
ns216.73.216.62da2
and then Add to home screen.