Football No. 10: God's Perspective

Disputed goal.

Oh, no, this is obviously an invalid goal. Vidal should be penalized for a foul and a yellow card should be shown.

But the referee did not make any statement, and pointed his finger at the middle circle, indicating that the goal was valid.

God, what happened? Don't they call such a foul?

The scene and the Internet were in an uproar.

Is there something wrong with the referee's professional ability? Blind?

I think he is blind in his heart.

Nick and a young man in a suit stood in the players' locker room corridor, looking at the angry and puzzled Dortmund players on the court, with a playful smile on their lips.

Tuchel roared vigorously on the sidelines, wishing to eat the referee alive.

"In our home court, you blatantly whistled a black whistle? Touch your conscience! Roger!\

,""Beep~!"

The referee blew the whistle, walked quickly to Tuchel, and gave him a yellow card to warn him.

"No, no, I know you Roger, I know you, you are famous in our coaching circle, well done, my friend."

Though Tuchel retreated in a weak posture, he still refused to give up and gave Roger the referee a thumbs up.

"Who else has any opinions? I have plenty of yellow cards."

Facing the chattering of Dortmund players chasing and blocking, Roger, the referee, had already put his hands in his trouser pockets.

"I'll just ask you a question." Wang Po separated the crowd and rushed to Roger, saying.

"No problem, man, before that I must do what I say, beep!"

Yellow card warning.

"Ask, my friend."

"Isn't it a foul that Vidal pushed me?" Wang Po asked, gritting his teeth, resisting the urge to beat Roger violently.

Roger shook his head like a rattle, and said firmly, "No, that was a normal collision, a reasonable foul, my man."

Wang Po took a deep breath, nodded, and said nothing, calling his teammates to go back and continue the game.

"What? Boy, can't you afford to lose?"

Seeing that Wang Po, who had been chattering to the referee, came back without any gain, Vidal ran to Wang Po like a villain, gloating.

Wang Po fanned his nose with his hand, frowned and said with disgust, "Did you eat shit last night and didn't brush your teeth?"

If there weren't so many shots, if it wasn't on the court, Wang Po would have used Muay Thai to beat the shit out of him.

"You tm..." Vidal is not a good man, he came up with a big waist and tendon meat and wanted to grab Wang Po's collar.

Realizing that something was wrong, Roger blew a series of small whistles and ran over to separate the two people who were about to clash.

"I'm the boss of this place, understand? If you want to make trouble for me, I will show you a red card without hesitation. I'll only say this once."

Roger said to Wang Po and the others.

"Don't worry, I'll help you get rid of this anger. I'm going to teach Vidal a good lesson."

Subotic patted Wang Po on the shoulder, looked at Vidal with a smirk on his face, and said meaningfully.

As a veteran on the field, he knows some moves too well.

The trend of the game changed because of this goal. It took a full 10 minutes for the storm to pass.

It is obvious that the players of the two teams have different spirits.

The movements became bigger and the collisions became more frequent.

The opportunity came.

In a fight for a high ball, Subotic went forward to defend and formed a misaligned defense with Vidal. Subotic, who was born as a central defender, was even bigger than Vidal. As soon as the two sides came into contact, Vidal fell to the ground in pain, grinning and screaming.

Elbow strike, an extremely concealed elbow swing.

In slow motion, it looks like a normal jump to maintain balance, but only old hands like Subotic know that this is a deliberate blow to Vidal.

"Beep~!"

The whistle was blown for a foul, Bayern Munich's set-piece, but despite the appeal of Bayern Munich's players, Roger still had no intention of playing.

The ability to control the field is a reflection of the professional ability of a professional referee. The previous conflict and the large-scale penalty selection have undoubtedly caused the fire between the two sides to rise. Now he needs to put out the fire for the players on both sides, rather than add fuel to the fire.

From this point of view, Roger's means are very advanced.

This time, Vidal suffered a dumb loss.

"Hey, if you don't want to come again, you'd better be honest." Subotic stood up for Wang Po and secretly warned Vidal.

With a free kick anti-aircraft cannon fired by Bayern Munich, the chaotic first half of the game finally ended.

Staring at the cordial greetings from the Dortmund fans, the security guard escorted Roger and the referee team into the player tunnel.

Wang Po walked into the tunnel with a dark face and said nothing, where he saw Nick waiting and another man dressed very gentlemanly.

Wang Po had an impression of this man, who was the transfer director of Bayern Munich, Borg.

"I wonder what Mr. Wang Po has considered?"

Nick greeted him with a smile and asked.

Borg next to him straightened his suit, looking confident and confident.

Wang Po frowned and asked in confusion, "What?"

"Transfer, didn't we agree on it?" Nick's face darkened and said in a bad tone.

Wang Po nodded, "Oh, I remember."

"Yes, yes, how are you thinking about it?" Nick instantly changed his expression to expectant.

"But you said it was you who said it, does my transfer have anything to do with this? Nonsense." Wang Po rolled his eyes at Nick fiercely.

"Mr. Wang Po, you are not kidding me, you know? You are brushing Bayern Munich Club, don't forget, this is Germany, you know Bayern's ability and influence."

"So what? I just want to play for Dortmund, how about it?" Wang Po said with a disdainful smile.

"Mr. Wang Po, I want you to think it over, after all, our club has shown its strength in the first half."

Borg on the side finally couldn't help but speak.

"Strength? What strength? I think it's the eyes of the referee." Wang Po didn't hesitate to talk to the two people, shook his hands, and went back to the locker room by himself.

Leaving two stupid people standing in the locker room corridor.

"Damn, this little bastard, one day I will make him cry."

Looking at Wang Po's figure, Nick gritted his teeth and cursed.

In the locker room.

Tuchel did not criticize the players' performance, nor did he say anything about the referee Roger's penalty scale. He explained the team's tactics for the second half step by step.

During this halftime break, Tuchel was unusually calm, so calm that people felt a little depressed and uncomfortable.