Chapter 53: The King of Football vs. The Tyrant of Football (Seeking Recommendation Votes and Follows)-Se é irmão, venha jogar bola(Ye Liangchen, o Enterrador do Amor)

The Italian Football Federation finally did something sensible by moving the originally scheduled 11:00 PM match to a 7:00 PM kickoff.

Late kickoffs in the summer were meant to avoid extreme heat, but this was already November.

Actually, starting in the afternoon wouldn't have made much difference anyway.

What was even more surprising was that the Englishmen had actually decided to broadcast this match.

This was historic.

Normally, the arrogant Englishmen wouldn't have shown any interest in Serie A until Paul Gascoigne arrived to play in Italy.

It was hard to say they weren't just tuning in to watch Diego Maradona make a fool of himself.

Lu Deyang would even bet that if Sampdoria suffered another flu outbreak for this match, quite a few Englishmen would go bankrupt.

Britain was one of the countries with the most gamblers in all of Europe.

Under the media's frenzied hype, a considerable number of British citizens would be waving banknotes just to throw their money away.

Considering historical reasons, there probably weren't many Englishmen rooting for Napoli.

Interestingly, Australia and菲律宾 (the Philippines)—the former colonies of that father-and-son duo—were equally obsessed with gambling. Perhaps this was simply the progressive nature of the English language.

Mantovani had been exceptionally busy lately.

Listening in occasionally on the staff's conversations, Lu Deyang learned that more and more countries were broadcasting the match.

Some were just tuning in for the spectacle, while others had political motives.

For instance, broadcasting the match in East Germany was meant to prove that everything had changed, that they could now watch the highest level of competition, and that life in East Germany would only get better and better.

There were also sponsors waving cash as they came knocking.

Pepsico, with deep pockets, agreed almost without hesitation to a one-million-dollar-a-year endorsement fee—though this amount was far cry from Britney's one hundred million dollars a decade later.

Still, it was the most lucrative endorsement contract Lu Deyang had secured so far.

Across the entire world of football, only a handful of players had personal endorsement deals.

"Good news, Deyang," Mantovani said excitedly, finding Lu Deyang the day before the match. "Adidas wants to sign you. You'll be the second player after Maradona to endorse Adidas."

"Forget it, Mr. President. Help me turn them down."

Lu Deyang considered it for a moment and said, "If possible, could you help me get in touch with Nike?"

"Why? Adidas is the undisputed overlord in the world of football," Mantovani said with some bewilderment.

For an average player, securing the attention of Adidas would already be considered a tremendous honor.

"Nike isn't great in football yet, which probably means they're more willing to spend big," Lu Deyang replied. "Besides, I think the Americans will be stronger in the long run."

"Alright, have it your way."

Mantovani smiled as he spoke.

Even when this good-natured president had his own ideas, he usually listened to his players' opinions, which was why everyone on the team loved him so much.

The main reason Lu Deyang made this choice was that the Americans had entered the domestic market earlier—ten years already.

It would still be a few years before the Germans officially entered that market.

As a challenger in the football world, King Lu could also represent the Asian and domestic markets.

Even if the domestic market wasn't huge at the moment, it still represented tens of millions of dollars in sales.

Therefore, whether for maximizing profits or for domestic promotional impact, endorsing an American product better served King Lu's interests.

Even Mancini took the opportunity to drag King Lu into an afternoon of card games, as if high media attention had turned everything into a charity poker tournament. True to form, the guy was still the charity poker king.

It almost made Lu Deyang want to discuss with Maradona whether they should just play a match every week since it made so much money.

The date finally arrived at November 18, and it was another away match.

As soon as the team stepped off the plane, they headed straight for the Stadio San Paolo.

Inside the team bus, everyone could hear the jeers and taunts of the Napoli fans.

Napoli had only one club, yet the entire metropolitan area boasted a population of over three million.

Half of those three million people were Napoli fans.

As the largest city in the south, Napoli fans hated every northern powerhouse equally.

Sampdoria, naturally, was no exception.

"Damn bastards, you'll be crying when you go back!"

"Diego is going to crush you!"

"That pretty boy Mancini is just a piece of trash!"

"..."

Vierchow quickly grabbed Mancini and advised, "Pal, calm down. You can't possibly go out there and fight them all single-handedly."

"They're the real trash. They can't even beat Florence when it comes to crime," Mancini retorted, pulling away with an annoyed expression.

In Florence, there were 136 robberies for every 1,000 people, making it the city with the highest robbery rate in Italy at the time. Tourist cities like Milan, Genoa, and Rome were primarily plagued by pickpocketing.

While the Neapolitan mafia sounded terrifying, the city actually had a relatively low crime rate compared to the rest of Italy.

"I heard the Napoli players are connected with the mafia. Is that true?" Pagliuca asked.

"Probably. I've heard about it in the national team," Pari replied.

This wasn't the kind of thing you could avoid just by choosing not to participate.

Italian mobsters were almost all football fans, and they loved star players too.

If a star didn't show them respect, there was no guarantee of his personal safety.

Marek Hamšík would later be a prime minister of an example of this.

As the busload of people chatted about Napoli's local color, they gradually drew closer to the Stadio San Paolo.

"DIEGO!!!"

The closer they got to the stadium, the more intense the fanaticism of the Napoli fans became.

Maradona had made the team of this city anything but ordinary.

"Get off the bus and head straight into the locker room. Do not get into conflicts with the fans," Vujadin Boškov instructed, standing at the front of the bus.

He glanced at Mancini once more and warned, "Don't get the stands mixed up this time, or you'll have a hard time getting back to Genoa."

"Boss, I went there on purpose! It wasn't a mistake!" Mancini protested.

Boškov ignored him.

"Go cheer from the stands, big bro!"

As the bus came to a halt, Vialli patted Mancini's shoulder with a chuckle.

"Yeah, go on, big bro!" Pagliuca echoed.

Clearly, the "family man" incident had become the team's newest running joke.

Mancini looked over at Lu Deyang.

Lu Deyang gave him a thumbs-up.

Yet the very next second, Mancini heard a heavily accented, mocking voice say, "We are family!"

...

Once inside the away locker room, the Sampdoria players gradually grew tense.

The atmosphere whipped up by the media and the fans gave them the feeling of playing in a world championship final.

Boškov drew out the opponent's formation on the tactical board. Napoli was one of the few teams that deployed a three-man defense.

"Alberto Bigon's team likes to attack through the center, but the flanks shouldn't be underestimated either. You need to keep a tight mark on their number ten. Don't let Maradona do too much on the pitch, and leave the rest to Deyang—then we'll have won half the battle," Boškov said, tapping the tactical board.

"And what about the other half?" Pagliuca chimed in.

"The other half is you lot conceding fewer damn goals!" Boškov snapped.

Lu Deyang was also mentally reviewing his opponents' dossier.

Milan was simply too invincible.

And Napoli's manager, Alberto Bigon, was—what a surprise—a Milan legend who had retired only a few years prior.

Lu Deyang had a feeling that practically every manager in Serie A must have done postgraduate studies at Milan.

Taking advantage of the moment while changing his boots, Lu Deyang triggered the lucky draw.

[Ding! Because your good brother Mancini passionately hates smoking, and his national team career has been utterly bleak, you have drawn a passionate-smoker absolute pillar of the national team: 1974 World Cup, Netherlands vs. West Germany, Johan Cruyff single-match experience card!]

Cruyff!

Maradona had remarked that Cruyff's shooting was practically foolproof, and that he also possessed a passing ability that could outfox opponents with misdirection. Maradona believed that the level Cruyff displayed during transitions from defense to offense was unmatched by anyone.

These two were truly heroes who recognized each other's greatness.

Today, King Lu would make up for their regret of never getting to compete on the same pitch.