1.65 Meters - Chapter 5: The Final — “Don't Bother Marking That Shorty”

Chapter 5: The Final — “Don't Bother Marking That Shorty”

On the day of the final, my mother came.

My father came too.

My mother wore a red sweater and sat in the front row of the stands, gripping her phone in her hand, the camera pointed at me the entire time.

My father stood beside her, both hands in his pockets, his face expressionless.

But he had positioned himself in a way that blocked the view of the people behind him, leaving a gap for those sitting nearby to see through.

Our opponents were the affiliated high school of the city's sports academy.

They were last year's champions.

Their striker was 1.83 meters tall.

Their defenders averaged 1.80 meters.

Our team's average height was 1.75 meters.

I brought the average down.

During warm-up, Coach Ma stood at the center circle with his arms crossed, watching us.

His eyes rested on me for two seconds.

Then he turned and said something to his defender, Zhao Lei.

Zhao Lei looked at me and nodded.

Su Qing ran over from the reporters' section, recorder raised.

“Lin Ye, it looks like the opposing coach has prepared a special tactic to deal with you. What do you think?”

“Normal.”

“What do you mean, normal?”

“They think I'm short.”

“They think I can't get to the ball.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Play.”

The opening whistle sounded.

I stood at the center circle.

Across from me was Zhao Lei.

1.82 meters tall.

Broad shoulders.

A thick back.

The muscles in his arms stretched his jersey tight.

He looked down at me.

The corner of his mouth moved slightly.

“You're that Best Striker?”

“Mm.”

“You won't score a single goal today.”

“Mm.”

He froze for a moment, probably because he hadn't expected me to be so calm.

The referee blew the whistle.

The match began.

Wang Hao received the ball in midfield and looked up for me.

Zhao Lei immediately closed me down.

His body pressed against mine.

One arm rested against my waist, pushing me outward.

Wang Hao's through ball came in.

Zhao Lei held his position, blocking me behind him and easily kicking the ball back to his goalkeeper.

He turned and looked at me.

“Told you.”

“You can't get to the ball.”

I said nothing.

I ran back.

For the first twenty minutes, I touched the ball three times.

Every time, Zhao Lei marked me tightly.

I was at a disadvantage physically.

I couldn't hold the ball.

Someone in the stands shouted,

“Can that shorty even play?”

“Take him off!”

Coach Ma stood on the sideline with his arms crossed.

His voice wasn't particularly loud, but the whole stadium could hear it.

“Don't bother with him.”

“The shorty can't win a high ball.”

“Let him run.”

I heard him.

Wang Hao heard him too.

He ran over and lowered his voice.

“Don't listen to him.”

“I'll keep feeding you ground passes.”

“Mm.”

In the twenty-fifth minute, Wang Hao won the ball in midfield and sent a low through pass.

I accelerated.

Zhao Lei followed.

The ball rolled toward me.

I didn't stop it.

I let it pass through my legs with my left foot.

The ball slipped between Zhao Lei's legs.

He tried to brake and turn.

I'd already gone around him on the right.

One-on-one.

The goalkeeper rushed out.

I lifted my foot and placed the shot.

The ball rolled along the grass and into the bottom-left corner.

1–0.

The entire stadium fell silent for one second.

Then it exploded.

Zhao Lei stood behind me, hands on his hips, staring at the ball inside the goal.

His chest heaved.

Coach Ma was standing on the sideline.

His arms had dropped.

His mouth was hanging open.

I ran back toward midfield.

As I passed Coach Ma, I heard him shout,

“Zhao Lei!”

“Stay tight on him!”

“Don't let him get through again!”

Zhao Lei wiped the sweat from his face and looked at me.

“It won't happen again.”

The first half ended.

1–0.

During halftime, Coach Liu held the tactics board and crouched in front of me.

“They're definitely going to increase the physical pressure in the second half.”

“Can you handle it?”

“I can.”

“How?”

“I won't.”

He looked at me.

Then said nothing more.

He turned around and began explaining the other players' positions.

Three minutes into the second half, Zhao Lei immediately pressed against me.

His elbow pushed into my back.

His foot reached around from behind to block my run.

I tried to move forward.

He grabbed my jersey.

The referee didn't whistle.

His movements became bolder.

In the fiftieth minute, Wang Hao crossed from the wing.

The ball wasn't high.

It came in at waist height.

Zhao Lei positioned himself in front of me, trying to use his body to block me.

I didn't challenge him for the header.

I stepped backward.

When he jumped, I slipped around his side.

Before he landed, and before the goalkeeper could come out, I reached the ball first and poked it with my toe.

The ball rolled under the goalkeeper's armpit and into the net.

2–0.

Zhao Lei stumbled when he landed.

He turned around and looked at me.

His eyes were filled with disbelief.

I turned and ran back.

All I could hear was the roar from the stands.

Coach Ma jumped on the sideline.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you not to let him get to the ball!”

Zhao Lei said nothing.

He lowered his head and walked back.

In the seventieth minute, Coach Ma made a substitution.

Two taller defenders came on.

Their formation dropped deeper.

They began playing long balls, trying to overwhelm us with their height.

In the eightieth minute, they pulled one back.

A corner kick.

Their 1.90-meter striker headed it into the net.

2–1.

Coach Liu shouted from the sideline,

“Stay calm!”

“Don't panic!”

The ball moved back and forth in midfield.

One second at a time.

In the eighty-eighth minute, Wang Hao got the ball.

He looked up for me.

I was trapped between Zhao Lei and another defender.

There was no space for me to run into.

Wang Hao switched the ball to the wing.

The winger crossed.

The ball flew toward the far post.

Zhao Lei positioned himself in front of me, using his body to keep me behind him.

The ball dropped.

He prepared to head it clear.

I didn't challenge him for the first point of contact.

I crouched slightly.

Waited until he headed it.

Then, at the instant the ball dropped, I moved in front of him and cushioned it with my chest.

He turned, preparing to kick it away.

I'd already raised my foot.

A volley.

The ball flew through the crowd of players.

It slammed against the underside of the crossbar.

Then bounced into the goal.

3–1.

Hat-trick.

The final whistle sounded.

I stood there, breathing heavily.

My jersey was soaked and clung to my body.

Zhao Lei sat on the grass with both hands supporting him, head lowered.

Coach Ma stood on the sideline.

His tactics board had fallen to the ground.

One of the buttons on his suit had popped off.

Wang Hao was the first to rush over.

He tackled me to the ground in celebration.

My teammates piled on one after another.

I could barely breathe.

When I finally crawled out from under the pile, I saw Coach Liu standing on the sideline.

He was holding the team list.

He wasn't smiling.

But he hadn't left either.

Su Qing rushed over and thrust her recorder toward my mouth.

“Hat-trick!”

“Three goals!”

“You did it!”

“Mm.”

“Coach Ma said not to bother marking you.”

“How do you respond?”

“I scored three.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

In the stands, my mother was crying.

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her red sweater.

My father still had the same stern expression.

But he was holding his phone up high, recording.

His raised arm blocked the view of the people behind him.

Someone shouted at him to move.

He ignored them.

I walked toward the sideline.

As I passed Coach Ma, he was crouching down to pick up his tactics board.

He looked up at me.

“You're wearing height-boosting shoes, aren't you?”

His voice wasn't loud.

But I heard him.

(End of Chapter 5)76Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlnkd4zPyQk

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