The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 607: Ronaldinho's Gamble

In the Lion King Stadium's locker room, Millwall players exchanged words calmly. Their expressions betrayed no anxiety or signs of defeat.

Being behind wasn't unfamiliar, and the game was far from over.

No one entertained negative thoughts. Instead, the players exuded unwavering resolve and the will to overturn the scoreline.

Breaking through a compact defense is one of football's eternal challenges. Valencia, a top-three team in La Liga and consistently ranked among Europe's top ten in recent years, had fortified their defense like an impenetrable fortress.

Aldrich wasted no words. He immediately unfolded the tactical board and fine-tuned their strategy for the second half.

This adjustment was based on Valencia's crucial away goal. It was clear that the Spanish team would adopt an even more conservative counterattacking approach.

The players listened intently to Aldrich's instructions. Once everything was clear, they nodded in agreement and encouraged each other.

In their vocabulary, the word "give up" simply didn't exist.

As they left the locker room, Aldrich stopped Pirlo for a brief word. Pirlo nodded and headed out. Aldrich then pulled Ronaldinho aside.

Ronaldinho, noticing Aldrich's unusually cautious demeanor, hesitated for a moment. It became clear why—Valencia's players were also exiting their locker room. Aldrich clearly didn't want their strategy overheard.

With a grin, Ronaldinho found Aldrich's meticulousness amusing. He leaned closer and said, "Boss, what's the secret? I'm all ears." n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Aldrich shoved him lightly, ensuring they were out of earshot. After confirming their privacy, Aldrich whispered a few words. Ronaldinho pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Got it. That's a clever move. I'll give it a shot."

Aldrich gave him a reassuring pat on the back, and together, they walked out of the tunnel.

The roars from the Lion King Stadium intensified. A small group of die-hard fans had taken off their shirts, waving them wildly as they fervently cheered for The Lions.

"Valencia's away goal means there will be no extra time in this match. Millwall, the defending champions, only have 45 minutes left to turn this around. Valencia, on the other hand, are 45 minutes away from a spot in the semifinals. From their defensive setup at the start of the second half, it's clear—they're determined to kill the game!"

Whenever Valencia held possession, the Lion King Stadium erupted in deafening boos, mocking their reluctance to commit to offense.

Valencia's entire team—from the coach to the players and even the fans in the stands—ignored the jeers.

From 0-1 to 1-1, Valencia's aggregate lead of 2-1 unified their mindset. Resolute and determined, they were bent on protecting their advantage.

Be it ugly football or anti-football, none of it mattered. As long as they advanced to the semifinals, the ends justified the means.

Millwall's attacking rhythm in the second half showed signs of adjustment, a reflection of Aldrich's halftime tweaks.

When transitioning from midfield to attack, their tempo quickened. But if space or opportunities were scarce, they slowed things down near Valencia's penalty area, patiently probing for openings.

Valencia ramped up their pressing near the box, but Millwall's exceptional ball control forced them into committing fouls.

In the 51st minute, Millwall earned a direct free kick about 36 yards from goal.

Pirlo and Ronaldinho stood over the ball as Valencia set up their wall and prepared their defensive positions.

This time, Pirlo, who had taken all the free kicks in the first half, stepped aside. It was Ronaldinho's turn.

With Aldrich's instructions echoing in his mind, Ronaldinho assessed the situation before taking his run-up.

The ball soared, seemingly set to curl over the wall, but a jumping Valencia defender managed to head it clear.

"Millwall have had their share of direct free kicks today, but the quality has been lacking. They've either been blocked by the wall or flown over the bar. Pirlo couldn't deliver earlier, and now Ronaldinho's effort seems similarly ineffective. Perhaps they should consider some set-piece variations to add an element of surprise."

As time ticked away, Cúper nervously paced the sidelines.

Though the situation was dire for Millwall, their players executed the game plan with remarkable composure, making decisive and calculated plays.

This team's mental fortitude on the pitch was nothing short of terrifying.

Valencia struggled under the mounting pressure, their nerves getting the better of them. Albelda had already been booked in the first half, and his fouls in the second half grew increasingly risky.

In the 59th minute, Henry pulled wide to receive the ball with his back to goal. Just as he made a lateral move after gaining possession, Baraja, eager to intercept, clipped him from behind. The referee immediately blew his whistle, signaling a foul and showing Baraja a yellow card.

Valencia's double pivot now carried the burden of yellow cards!

Henry grimaced in pain but managed to stand, shaking off the discomfort. He rotated his ankle and flashed a reassuring smile at Larsson, who had approached out of concern.

Valencia set up their wall again, preparing to defend the free kick. The spot was about two meters outside the penalty area, slightly to the right of the goal.

Cañizares orchestrated the wall, ensuring the near post was well-guarded. The close proximity made it challenging to curve the ball over the wall and dip it into the net, but with Millwall's free-kick specialists, anything was possible.

Cañizares shifted his position to guard the far post.

Ronaldinho stepped up, his expression solemn as he locked eyes with Cañizares, as if engaged in a mental duel.

Ronaldinho's eyes gleamed with resolve as Aldrich's words from the halftime break reverberated in his head. With a confident run-up, he struck the ball cleanly. Valencia's wall reacted instinctively, leaping as one to block what they believed would be a curling shot aimed for the goal.

Mid-air, their expressions shifted dramatically.

Surprise gave way to astonishment, then to dread, and finally to outright anger.

They'd been absolutely played!

Ronaldinho's free kick never left the ground. It zipped along the grass, slipping beneath the wall just as their feet left the pitch.

Valencia's defenders in the wall were practically begging gravity to hurry up.

"Come on! Let us land!"

By the time their feet touched the ground, every one of them turned their heads toward the goal in unison.

What they saw sent a chill down their spines. Cañizares was scrambling, his eyes wide, hurling himself toward the near post. He stretched out a desperate arm, a motion filled with hope and futility all at once.

But it was too late.

The ball brushed the inside of the post and rolled over the line just as Cañizares' outstretched hand reached out in vain.

The Lion King Stadium erupted in a roar. The Lions' faithful threw their arms in the air, their cheers rolling like a storm, the noise shaking the earth beneath their feet!

"Ronaldinho scores a stunning free kick! While the ball's flight path was unremarkable, the Brazilian's creativity and audacity were astonishing! A low-driven shot beneath the jumping wall—brilliant and utterly unexpected! Millwall retakes the lead, 2-1 in this match, though the aggregate score is now tied at 2-2. Valencia still has the edge on away goals, with half an hour left to play!"

Valencia's players were stunned, frozen as if witnessing sorcery. All eyes turned to Ronaldinho, their disbelief palpable.

For Ronaldinho, the goal would undoubtedly enhance his reputation.

But if he had missed? Such an unconventional approach, had it failed, would have turned him into a laughingstock.

This strike was a bold gamble, showcasing both skill and courage.

As the ball nestled into the net, Ronaldinho leapt in celebration. Nedvěd, already sprinting toward the goal, scooped up the ball and rushed it back to the center circle. Ronaldinho turned to exchange high-fives with Pirlo before flashing a thumbs-up toward Aldrich on the sideline—his signature gesture.

Aldrich didn't celebrate. Instead, he nodded approvingly and clapped his hands, loudly urging his players to maintain the pressure on Valencia.

That free kick? It had been Aldrich's suggestion during halftime.

Valencia's frequent fouls had granted Millwall multiple set-piece opportunities. In the first half, Pirlo had taken charge, and Aldrich had noticed a pattern: Valencia's wall always leapt, aiming to block high, dipping shots.

For the second half, Aldrich handed the reins to Ronaldinho, advising him to go low and hard for close-range free kicks. If positioned near the goal, and the wall jumped, a ground-hugging shot could catch them off guard.

Ronaldinho, adept at low-driven strikes, rarely showcased this skill at Millwall, where he wasn't the primary free-kick taker. Today, however, he executed it to perfection.

Cooper, visibly nervous after his team conceded a goal, signaled for the substitutes to warm up. He began considering making changes to strengthen the defense. Valencia had too many players on yellow cards, and with this looming threat, their defensive actions were hesitant, creating exploitable gaps.

Aldrich, meanwhile, also instructed his substitutes to prepare. If they couldn't score a third goal by the 70th minute, he was ready to risk everything.

The match became increasingly intense—almost brutal. Valencia's defensive half was engulfed in chaos.

Since the first half ended at 1–1, Valencia had further reduced their already ineffective counterattacks. By this stage, their attacking players hesitated, caught in a dilemma. Fearful that pushing forward might weaken their defense, their attacks lacked conviction, allowing Millwall to launch even more relentless offensives.

In the 66th minute, Valencia attempted a clearance from their defensive zone. The ball landed at Aimar's feet, but with his back to goal, he barely touched it before Gattuso surged in from behind and poked it away with a perfectly executed challenge.

Like a whirlwind, Gattuso surged forward, ready to initiate an attack. But as he passed Aimar, the desperate midfielder reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Gattuso lost his balance and stumbled to the ground.

The Lions' fans erupted in fury, pointing at Aimar and shouting accusations of foul play.

The referee immediately halted the game and marched toward Aimar, his hand reaching for his pocket.

Baraja rushed to block the referee, spreading his arms in an attempt to explain and plead for mercy. Aimar already had a yellow card from the first half.

Pirlo and Nedvěd, standing near the incident, approached the referee as well. They gestured emphatically, arguing that Aimar's foul was deliberate and not his first, insisting that it deserved a card.

Aimar raised his hands in protest, trying to appear innocent, but the referee was unmoved.

The foul was blatant—it wasn't a tactical challenge to intercept the ball or disrupt the play. Instead, it was a deliberate pull from behind to stop Gattuso's run.

When the referee reached Aimar, he pulled out a yellow card and raised it high.

Aimar let out a frustrated roar, clutching his head in disbelief. As he turned away, the referee reached into his pocket again.

This time, he pulled out a red card.

All eyes were on him as he raised it high for everyone to see.

Red Card!