"In the 35th minute of the game, Zheng Zhi scored with a header to equalize the score!"
He Wei's voice sounded on the screen, but there was no joy at all.
Although the referee had already blown the whistle and declared the goal valid, Zheng Zhi in front of the goal had not yet gotten up.
This is the third time that the Chinese team doctor has rushed into the stadium carrying a medical kit and a stretcher.
The other two Nigerian players who collided with Zheng Zhi had already stood up with the help of their teammates, but Zheng Zhi was still lying on the ground and receiving treatment from the team doctor.
From a zoomed-in lens, it can be vaguely seen that Zheng Zhi's forehead is covered with dark red blood.
If an athlete has a head injury, the referee would not dare to allow the game to continue without authorization.
"Let's look at the goal again."
With the worried voice of He Wei, the fans clearly saw it in the replay.
After Zheng Zhi jumped up to head the ball, he immediately collided with the heads of two Nigerian defenders.
The sudden impact made the three people a little dazed, and they had already lost their balance before landing.
Just like that, Zheng Zhi didn't take any defensive measures when he fell to the ground, and just fell from the air to the ground.
Being able to stay awake after being hit multiple times in a row is no longer an ordinary person.
In the looming camera lens, several team members were holding their waists and surrounding Zheng Zhi, with worries on their faces.
Finally, under the emergency treatment of the team doctor, the team members heard a long-lost sound.
"I...I'm fine."
Looking at Zheng Zhi, whose head was bandaged like an Arab, Zhao Xuri couldn't help but feel sore eyes.
"Brother Zheng..."
"It's okay, I was just a little dizzy just now, but I'm much better now."
With that said, Zheng Zhi put his hands on the team doctor's shoulders and stood up with force.
Seeing this scene, a round of applause quickly rose from the stands that had just been hurling abuse.
"Hey! Well done Zheng Zhi, he is indeed a tough guy in the national football team!"
"Come on Zheng Zhi, you are the best!"
"We are proud of you, we are proud of you!"
Looking at the comments in the live broadcast room, Huang Jianxiang thought he was dazzled.
Are these still the same group of netizens who just watched the live broadcast?
Why did the limelight suddenly change?
The host Li Xin on the side was already used to it.
In the two years since Huang Jianxiang left the mainstream media, the development of the Internet has been changing with each passing day.
Netizens are also very innocent and interesting.
If you play well, they will praise you; if they think you play badly, they will yell at you.
This has become the norm.
Huang Jianxiang and Zhan Jun were stunned for a while, and then they said, "Fortunately, Zheng Zhi is fine and has stood up with the help of his teammates."
"Now that the team doctor has left the game, players from both sides have returned to their positions and are ready to kick off again."
...
After the game restarted, the Nigerian players had a more serious look on their faces.
Even more nervous than when Mikel came off injured.
It was not because the score was tied, but because they discovered that although the average physical condition of the Chinese players on the field was not as good as theirs, they could often win in some key and fierce collisions with their "death-like" hard work. gain the upper hand.
Just like Zheng Zhi's supplementary header just now.
At 1.80 meters, Zheng Zhi is not very tall, his figure is medium, and his jumping ability is mediocre.
But it was such a person who rushed into the penalty area when the two of them were already in position, got in front of the two defenders of the opponent, regardless of his physical safety, and hit the ball first.
Such an approach has greatly surprised Nigerians.
Perhaps these African buddies will never understand until their death why the Chinese, who individually look inferior, can defeat all kinds of opponents on various battlefields.
Under Zheng Zhi's "example", the two midfielders Zhao Xuri and Hao Junmin also broke out immediately.
They came forward and fought like mad dogs through the midfield.
Even if it is a simple ground ball response, they must turn around first, use a solid back to collide with the opponent hard, and then seek the next step.
In this way, at the end of the first half, the score on the field was still a 1-1 draw.
“What a thrilling first half!”
"I thought that the Chinese team's defense would be defeated by the opponent in Nigeria's brutal collision."
"But the strong Chinese players withstood the pressure and tenaciously tied the score to 1-1."
"This result has greatly exceeded the fans' expectations."
"Especially Zheng Zhi."
"As the oldest member of the Olympic team, he is also the one who fights hardest."
"We can see from the screen that some dark red has penetrated under the gauze on Zheng Zhi's head."
"It can be said that in the entire first half, apart from Wang Xiaodong, Zheng Zhi was the most indispensable player in the Olympic midfield."
Huang Jianxiang and Zhan Jun chatted in the studio, and Peng Jiuyang on the side opened a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Zhan Jun.
Zhan Jun was talking. When he saw the water handed over by the goddess, he immediately closed his mouth and drank the water happily.
Huang Jianxiang stared at the data on the screen and analyzed rationally: "According to the way we played in the first half, Dui will have to make substitutions at the beginning of the second half."
"Oh? Why?" host Li Xin asked.
"You fought too hard!" Huang Jianxiang shook his head.
"Except for Wang Xiaodong, everyone is basically holding on with one breath."
"The breath was gone when we entered halftime, and I believe many people's limbs were weak because of it."
Huang Jianxiang is right. The physical problem that worries fans the most is happening in the Olympic locker room.
As soon as they returned to the locker room, Zhao Xuri and others immediately collapsed on the chairs and never wanted to stand up again.
Many people rubbed their numb and stiff calves, and some simply leaned on the cabinets and closed their eyes to rest.
After a while, there was even slight snoring in the locker room.
Zheng Zhi pinched his waist and stood there with a sweat-soaked towel hanging around his neck.
Seeing that most of his teammates were like this, even he, the former captain and head coach Duy, had no good solution.
"Brother Zheng, why don't you take a break?"
After wiping the sweat off his body, Wang Xiaodong just walked out of the shower room when he saw Zheng Zhi standing in the middle of the crowd.
"Xiaodong, you..."
Looking at the upturned little Xiaodong, Zheng Zhi was speechless.
Good guy!
The other team members are so tired that they almost fainted, but you are very energetic.
Depending on your situation, it's not a problem to fight for another 300 rounds.
"Where is this?"
Wang Xiaodong waved his hand and walked naked in front of the head coach Du Yi. While putting on his clothes and trousers, he made suggestions: "Coach, if it doesn't work, just replace Brother Zheng and the other three. As long as the midfielder stands firm, the frontcourt and the frontcourt It’s no problem!”
Zhao Xuri and Hao Junmin, who were resting with their eyes closed, raised their eyebrows and pricked their ears when they heard this, but did not make any reaction.
Zheng Zhi, who had been insisting on the sidelines, quit.
"Go away, you damn boy, what's the crooked idea!"
"Like you said, where is this?"
"I'm still very energetic!"
"Coach, don't listen to him, he..."
Zheng Zhigang wanted to refute, but found that head coach Du Yi was touching his chin, apparently seriously considering Wang Xiaodong's proposal.
Seeing this, Zheng Zhi gave up the interruption and stretched out his index finger to slap Wang Xiaodong's temple: "Xiaodong, you brat, don't talk nonsense in the future!"
"Eh, eh, eh!!!"
Wang Xiaodong was currently bent over, with one leg on the ground and wearing shorts.
Leng Buding lost his center of gravity at Zheng Zhi's rebuke and fell backwards while hopping on one foot.
"Hey! Damn it!!!"
Finally, Wang Xiaodong sat down in the arms of Dong Fangzhuo, who was concentrating with his eyes closed, frightening the "first man in the Olympics".
"Xiaodong, what are you doing? Ouch, it hurts me so much!"
Dong Fangzhuo pushed Wang Xiaodong away, rubbed her thighs and clicked her tongue repeatedly.
"Tch, it's so small and I didn't hit it. Why are you pretending to rub it?"
Wang Xiaodong curled his lips with disdain on his face.
"Fuck, what did you say? Say it again?"
Upon hearing Wang Xiaodong's taunt, Dong Fangzhuo jumped up from his stool like a mouse whose tail was stepped on, and struck Wang Xiaodong with his waving fist.
When Wang Xiaodong ran away, he accidentally bumped into Chen Tao's waist, and Dong Fangzhuo also stepped on Zhang Yaokun's foot.
At this time, the entire locker room was in chaos, caused by a few young men running around.
The snoring in the locker room that was just a little tired now turned into laughter.
Sun Jihai, who was sitting in the corner with his hands on his chest, looked at the young players in the locker room with a smile.
"Maybe we can really reach the finals of this Olympics!"
