NOVEL NEXT Chapter 176: Prelude to the 2005 World Youth Championship
The fourth round of the group stage in the final round of the AFC World Cup qualifiers was fast approaching, and the excitement—and anxiety—among domestic fans was palpable. With three straight wins in their first three matches, the Chinese national team sat comfortably at the top of the group, holding nine points.
Trailing behind were Japan with two wins and one loss, securing six points to claim second place. Iran followed with one win and two losses, while North Korea, the group's underperforming side, languished at the bottom with three defeats.
According to the rules, the top two teams in the group would secure direct qualification to the World Cup. For China, a win against North Korea at home would guarantee their place, securing qualification with two games to spare. This would mark only the second time in history that China had reached the World Cup, the first being their debut in 2002.
On paper, the match against North Korea seemed straightforward. The Chinese side boasted better form, home advantage, and a more experienced squad. Yet, memories of past failures cast a shadow over the optimism. In the history of Chinese football, similar situations—where a draw or a simple win was enough—had ended in heartbreak, often marred by infamous "black minutes" of collapse.
This legacy of near-misses and unexpected setbacks had left Chinese fans deeply scarred. They were hopeful, but wary of celebrating too early. The national team, well aware of this psychological baggage, took a cautious approach. Officials and players alike emphasized their focus on one game at a time, avoiding any premature declarations of success.
Despite these reassurances, the media was relentless in its coverage. Headlines touted the team's imminent qualification as a near-certainty, hyping the occasion as a national milestone. Yet among fans, the atmosphere remained tense, their optimism tinged with doubt. Many found it hard to believe the team's flawless run through the group stage so far. For decades, the Chinese football narrative had been one of struggle and underachievement, making the recent victories feel almost too good to be true.
Amid this atmosphere of cautious hope, Yang Yang returned to China.
Fresh off a season that saw him crowned a UEFA Cup champion, Eredivisie champion, and best player in both competitions, Yang Yang's homecoming from Amsterdam injected a surge of confidence into the fanbase. For many, his arrival was a morale booster, a symbol of what Chinese football could aspire to achieve.
Yang Yang didn't come alone. Accompanying him was Winston Bogard, a renowned fitness coach from Ajax whose imposing physique and expertise quickly drew attention. Within days, the ever-inquisitive domestic media had unearthed every detail about Bogard, presenting him as the secret behind Yang Yang's extraordinary physical condition.
Soon, photos began circulating online of Yang Yang training at a high-end fitness club in Beijing alongside Bogard. The club, known for its exclusive facilities and steep membership fees, became an overnight sensation, with fans clamoring for a glimpse of the star. Joining Yang Yang in some of these sessions was Su Ye, who was quickly dubbed the "First Goddess of Chinese Football" by adoring netizens.
While the fitness club managed to maintain its privacy due to its elite nature, the same could not be said for the Summer Palace. Early-morning joggers were quick to spot Yang Yang and Su Ye running together, and photos of the two soon went viral online. Discussions exploded across social media, with fans both admiring Yang Yang's dedication and speculating about his relationship with Su Ye.
However, out of respect for Su Ye's academic priorities and the intense focus required for the upcoming college entrance exams, Yang Yang made a conscious effort to stay away from her school. His appearances at her alma mater, a source of frequent excitement in the past, were put on hold. Besides, his schedule would soon become even busier—he had only a few days left before reporting to the national team.
Yang Yang's tireless work ethic during his time back home drew widespread praise from the media and fans alike. His commitment to daily training, even during his short break, became a shining example of professionalism. Many credited his success to his discipline and self-determination, qualities that had resonated deeply with the public over the past year.
The "Yang Yang effect" had begun to ripple through the country. His achievements and work ethic sparked a wave of introspection within Chinese football, prompting fans and journalists to demand higher standards from domestic players. The once-common assertion that Chinese players were inherently unsuited to football began to fade. Whenever reports emerged of poor discipline or subpar training habits among professionals, comparisons to Yang Yang were inevitable.
"Look at Yang Yang," became the refrain of countless articles and social media posts, as he was held up as a benchmark for what Chinese footballers could achieve with the right mindset and dedication.
Unintentionally, Yang Yang had become a catalyst for change. His success abroad and his relentless pursuit of improvement had not only inspired fans but also pressured the domestic football ecosystem to raise its standards. Though he had never set out to do so, Yang Yang's example was quietly reshaping the narrative of Chinese football, giving it a glimmer of hope for the future.
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With both upcoming matches scheduled as home games, the national team chose Tianjin as the venue for convenience. Meanwhile, their training camp was set at the Beijing Xianghe National Football Training Base, a modern facility designed to prepare the team for these critical World Cup qualifiers.
When Yang Yang arrived at the camp, many familiar faces greeted him. Senior players like Shao Jiayi, Zheng Zhi, Zhao Junzhe, and Sun Jihai had already reported back to the squad. Another notable addition was Chen Tao, who had recently completed his transfer to Belgian club Anderlecht. The move, finalized with FIFA's registration process, had sparked a wave of excitement within the team.
At just €800,000, Chen Tao's transfer fee wasn't particularly high by European standards, but it marked a significant step forward for Chinese football. His move was met with admiration from his teammates, who saw it as a symbol of progress. For many, Chen Tao and Yang Yang represented the aspirations of ambitious players looking to make their mark on the global stage.
Yang Yang's return to the national team brought renewed energy. His achievements in the Eredivisie—breaking Ronaldo's legendary record at just 18 years old—were a source of pride not only for the team but for Chinese football as a whole. His performance had become a hot topic, even among international players.
"You wouldn't believe it," Zhao Junzhe said during a lighthearted conversation. "Our Scottish international at the club won't stop talking about Yang Yang. Every time we mention him, it's just two words: total admiration."
This kind of recognition elevated Yang Yang's standing among his teammates, not just as a peer but as a benchmark for what they could achieve. The group was curious about his next steps, particularly his transfer situation—a question that had captivated fans worldwide. Would he stay at Ajax, or would he make a move to one of Europe's bigger clubs?
Yang Yang remained candid. "I don't know yet," he admitted, shrugging. "It's still up in the air."
In the meantime, Chen Tao's successful transfer to Anderlecht inspired discussions among the team. Many players were eager to hear about life abroad, asking Yang Yang for advice on navigating European football. Yang Yang, always approachable, shared his insights openly.
"To be honest," he said during one discussion, "breaking into the top four leagues right away is incredibly difficult. Europe's professional football system is like a pyramid—you start lower and work your way up. Look at South Korea's Park Ji-sung or Young-Pyo Lee, and Japan's Shinji Ono. They all began in the Eredivisie before climbing higher."
He emphasized the importance of finding the right team. "It's not just about joining a big-name club. You need to play regularly. If you're sitting on the bench or not even in the squad, you won't develop. The goal is to grow, not just to have a big name attached to your resume."
His advice resonated with the team, earning the approval of veterans like Sun Jihai, Zheng Zhi, Zhao Junzhe, and Shao Jiayi. They agreed that playing time and development mattered more than prestige.
Zheng Zhi was a perfect example. Though he played for Mainz, a mid-table Bundesliga side that wasn't well-known in China, the move had proven invaluable for his growth. His coach, Jürgen Klopp, appreciated his work ethic and gave him opportunities to play, something Zheng Zhi acknowledged was far more beneficial than warming the bench at a bigger club like Bayern Munich.
The team also noted Chen Tao's choice of Anderlecht as a wise starting point. The Belgian club offered him a solid platform to adapt to European football while ensuring he got the game time needed to develop.
Yang Yang and players like Zheng Zhi were not only inspiring their teammates but also shifting the mindset of Chinese football. Their examples injected a sense of practicality and reason into discussions about playing abroad.
During team training, the gap between domestically based players and those with European experience became evident. The rhythm and intensity of players like Yang Yang were noticeably faster, forcing others to adapt. Even Chen Tao, who had worked with Yang Yang before, found himself struggling to keep up.
"I've trained with Ajax, and their rhythm is just on another level," Chen Tao told his teammates after a particularly grueling session. "Even when they're doing restorative training, the pace is intense. It's no surprise that a team capable of winning the UEFA Cup has such high standards."
His words left a lasting impression on the group, motivating those with aspirations to play abroad to prepare for the challenges they would face. The realization that standing still meant falling behind was becoming increasingly clear.
"Football is like rowing upstream," Yang Yang told his teammates. "If you're not moving forward, you're being left behind. The world of football is evolving, and if we don't step out of our comfort zone, the gap between us and the rest of the world will only grow wider."
As training continued, the atmosphere among the team shifted. Inspired by Yang Yang's achievements and advice, more players began to see going abroad not as an impossible dream but as a realistic goal, provided they were willing to work for it.
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Tianjin, June 3rd, 2005. The Chinese national team faced North Korea in the fourth round of Group B in the AFC final round qualifiers for the 2006 World Cup. A win would secure China's place in the tournament, making it their second-ever qualification after their historic debut in 2002.
Head coach Arie Haan chose a balanced 4-3-3 formation with a double defensive midfield pairing, emphasizing stability. The stakes were enormous, and the pressure weighed heavily on the team. The memories of past heartbreaks lingered—critical matches where simple results were needed, yet the team faltered. Fans across the nation hoped desperately for a different outcome this time.
From the opening whistle, the Chinese team took the initiative, pressing aggressively and dominating possession. Their strategy revolved around controlling the ball, maintaining a steady rhythm, and utilizing their technical edge. The North Korean team, however, was prepared. Set up in a defensive 4-5-1 formation, which quickly transformed into an ultra-defensive block during play, they committed nearly their entire team to protect their goal.
The match soon became a one-sided affair, with the Chinese players continuously attempting to break down North Korea's resolute defense. Yang Yang, leading the line, was the focus of the opposition's defensive efforts. He was closely man-marked, shadowed relentlessly no matter where he moved on the pitch. The North Korean defenders didn't shy away from physicality, constantly using subtle fouls and rough challenges to disrupt his rhythm.
The Chinese wingers and midfielders faced similar difficulties. Shao Jiayi and Sun Jihai found themselves doubled up on whenever they tried to push forward, while Zheng Zhi and Zhao Junzhe struggled to find openings to feed the attackers. The North Korean defense was compact and disciplined, frustrating every Chinese attempt to carve out clear chances.
Despite their dominance in possession, the Chinese team failed to create meaningful scoring opportunities throughout most of the first half. Every attack was met with a wall of defenders, and Yang Yang endured countless physical challenges that left him bruised and battered. The frustration grew palpable both on the pitch and in the stands. Fans watching at the stadium and at home began to feel the familiar dread of past failures.
The script felt all too familiar: dominance without breakthrough, followed by a defensive lapse that would hand the opponents an undeserved victory. Could the national team once again fall at the final hurdle? Was the dream of qualification destined to slip away despite the team's strong start in the group stage?
As the first half drew to a close, tension reached a boiling point. Fans braced themselves for halftime with no goals scored, the anxiety in the stadium almost tangible. Yet, just as the fourth official signaled for stoppage time, Yang Yang found himself in a rare moment of space. A chance was finally within reach.
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Shao Jiayi spotted the gap and delivered a perfectly weighted through ball to the left side of the arc, just outside the penalty area. Yang Yang darted forward, timing his run to perfection as he controlled the pass with his left foot. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, but two North Korean defenders were already closing in, determined to shut him down.
"Yang Yang receives it on the edge of the box, two defenders pressing him tightly!"
He didn't panic. Glancing up briefly, Yang Yang assessed his options. With no immediate support, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Driving forward, he carried the ball toward the byline, his quick feet keeping it under control. The defenders stayed tight, angling their bodies to force him into what seemed like a dead end.
"He's driving toward the byline—nowhere to go! But wait! He cuts inside! What a move!"
Suddenly, Yang Yang planted his left foot, pivoted sharply, and sliced inside. His quick turn left the first defender lunging at thin air, tumbling past him. The crowd erupted, sensing the magic in the making.
"One defender beaten! But there's still another!"
The second defender stepped up immediately, his body positioned to block any advance. Yang Yang, however, leaned into the challenge, shielding the ball with his strength and balance. The defender tugged at his shirt, jostling for control, but Yang Yang stayed composed, his focus unshaken.
Narration blended with tension in the commentary, "Look at him! He's holding off the challenge—still carrying the ball—he hasn't lost it!"
More defenders rushed into the penalty area, forming a chaotic cluster. Yang Yang's feet worked furiously, a quick feint to the left sending another defender stumbling. Then, with a subtle flick, he maneuvered the ball to his right foot and wriggled free of the crowd.
"He's out of the trap! Yang Yang has space!"
For a split second, everything seemed to pause. Yang Yang glanced at the goal, planted his foot, and struck the ball cleanly with his right. The shot tore through the air, curling past the outstretched goalkeeper and crashing into the top corner of the net.
"GOAL!!!" the commentator roared as the stadium erupted. "IT'S IN!!! Yang Yang has done it!"
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The moment Yang Yang's right foot connected with the ball, he knew it was destined for the net. The strike was perfect—clean, powerful, and precise. As the ball soared past the helpless goalkeeper and smashed into the top corner, the roar of the crowd erupted like a tidal wave.
Yang Yang didn't pause to celebrate in place. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he sprinted to the sidelines, sliding to his knees in front of the nearest camera. The grass kicked up around him as he came to a halt, his arms spread wide. The stadium vibrated with the sound of thousands of fans chanting his name, their voices blending into an overwhelming chorus.
Standing up, Yang Yang stepped closer to the live broadcast camera. He raised his left wrist, proudly displaying the colorful lucky rope tied there. With his right hand, he pointed at the bracelet, then raised his thumb before thumping his chest with a clenched fist. It was a gesture full of meaning, a tribute he had planned before the game—a heartfelt blessing for Su Ye.
The fans erupted again, their chants growing louder as Yang Yang's name echoed through the stadium. It was a moment of triumph, of personal expression, and of connection with the people watching, both in the stands and across the nation.
Before he could fully catch his breath, Yang Yang was mobbed by his teammates, who sprinted to join the celebration. Arms wrapped around him, shouts of excitement and congratulations filled the air as they surrounded him. The camaraderie and joy were unmistakable, a shared victory that transcended individual achievement.
In that moment, the weight of expectation, the doubts of fans, and the fear of repeating past failures all seemed to disappear. Yang Yang had delivered when it mattered most, and the national team had taken a giant step toward the World Cup.
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"The speed of Yang Yang's footwork is simply unbelievable!" the commentator exclaimed, marveling at the replays of the goal.
"In the penalty area, the North Korean defenders didn't dare to make a move! His rapid footwork and unpredictable dribbling completely froze them, allowing him to glide past four players with ease before delivering that stunning right-footed volley."
The crowd roared as the screen continued to replay Yang Yang's moment of brilliance. The commentators couldn't contain their excitement, their voices filled with admiration.
"This was a masterclass in individual ability," one said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yang Yang's quick feet, composure, and creativity left the North Korean defense in shambles. He made it look effortless."
The discussion shifted to the North Korean team's otherwise staunch defensive effort. "They've shown incredible discipline and resilience throughout the match, deploying a deep defensive block, crowding their penalty area with almost their entire team. Yet, against Yang Yang, a sharp and relentless blade, even the strongest defensive wall crumbled!"
The crowd was still buzzing, chanting Yang Yang's name as the players returned to their positions for the restart. The commentators concluded their analysis with an air of reverence: "Moments like these remind us why Yang Yang is a rising star in world football. His ability to turn a game on its head is nothing short of phenomenal."
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After Yang Yang's spectacular goal and celebration were broadcast live across the nation, Su Ye, sitting in the living room of her home, couldn't help but blush with pride and excitement. Her cheeks glowed as she watched the replay of his goal, the moment replaying in her mind again and again.
He did it! He really did it!
Her mother, Ye Qing, sitting beside her, caught the subtle shift in her expression and the light in her eyes. Breaking the silence, she asked with a curious smile, "Is that the bracelet you gave him?"
Both her father, Su Wenhong, and her cousin, Wei Zhen, had gone to the stadium to watch the match live. Su Ye, unable to attend due to her upcoming college entrance exams, was watching the broadcast at home with her mother, who had chosen to stay and keep her company.
Hearing her mother's sudden question and noticing the slightly teasing look in her eyes, Su Ye's heart skipped a beat. Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she nodded shyly, her voice barely audible, "Yes."
Her mother leaned forward slightly, her curiosity clearly piqued. "What does that celebration mean?" she asked gently, her tone somewhere between playful and sincere.
Su Ye's embarrassment gave way to a sense of quiet pride as she straightened up slightly. "He said that if he scored a goal, he'd dedicate it to me as a blessing for my college entrance exams."
Her voice was steady now, tinged with a mix of happiness and pride, as if she were savoring the weight of those words.
Ye Qing looked at her daughter thoughtfully before turning back to the TV screen, where Yang Yang was still being mobbed by his jubilant teammates. Even through the screen, it was easy to see his passion, his drive, and his sincerity.
She had to admit, a boy as talented and hardworking as Yang Yang would be incredibly appealing to a young girl like Su Ye. His achievements, humility, and earnest nature made him stand out from the crowd. For a moment, Ye Qing thought back to her own youth and couldn't help but smile.
However, one thing was clear to her: while Yang Yang was exceptional in so many ways, he seemed a little slow when it came to understanding emotions. His genuine but oblivious nature reminded her of her own husband in their younger days.
Ye Qing's smile softened as she glanced at her daughter, whose eyes were still fixed on the screen. She wasn't planning to interfere, not in the slightest. She liked Yang Yang, too. If anything, she admired him for his discipline and determination. If this truly was Su Ye's first love, then it was a gentle and hopeful one—a memory worth cherishing, no matter how it turned out.
Every girl's first love should be a time filled with warmth and happiness, Ye Qing thought to herself. No matter what the future holds, it's these moments that stay with us forever.
Letting out a quiet sigh, she turned her attention back to her daughter, whose blush hadn't faded. In her heart, she wished for her baby girl's happiness, just as fervently as Yang Yang had wished her luck with the goal celebration.
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After taking the lead in the first half thanks to Yang Yang's brilliant goal, the Chinese team maintained control throughout the second half. The North Korean side, trailing 1-0, cautiously adjusted their tactics, pushing their formation slightly forward in an attempt to chase the game. However, their approach remained conservative, and they struggled to organize any meaningful attacks against the disciplined Chinese defense, anchored by the solid double-pivot midfield.
For much of the second half, the Chinese team absorbed pressure without conceding any significant chances. It wasn't until the final ten minutes that the North Korean team managed to penetrate the Chinese team's 30-meter area with a handful of attempts. Even then, their efforts lacked the sharpness needed to trouble the Chinese backline, and the attacks fizzled out without threatening the goal.
As the clock ticked down, the Chinese defense remained composed, denying the North Korean side any real opportunities to equalize. When the referee blew the final whistle, the scoreline stood at 1-0. The Chinese team, led by Yang Yang's decisive strike, had secured victory and, with it, their place in the 2006 World Cup.
The stadium erupted in jubilation as tens of thousands of fans roared in unison, chanting, "We're going to the World Cup!" The scenes of celebration were electrifying, with flags waving and drums beating across the stands. The live broadcast on national television displayed a celebratory slogan: "Congratulations to the Chinese football team for qualifying for the World Cup once again!" The joy spread far beyond the stadium, reaching fans across the country who had waited eagerly for this historic moment.
This marked only the second time in Chinese football history that the national team had qualified for the World Cup, the first being in 2002. Unlike their previous campaign, however, this time the Chinese team had progressed with a level of dominance that inspired hope for a better showing on the global stage. The team had encountered challenges during the qualifiers, but they navigated the final round with remarkable consistency, securing qualification after just four matches. With four consecutive victories, China became the first team from the AFC qualifiers to secure their spot at the World Cup.
Yang Yang emerged as the undeniable cornerstone of this success. His consistent performances and critical goals had propelled the team through the toughest fixtures, including a historic victory against Iran on their notoriously challenging home turf. His reliability in front of goal and ability to rise to the occasion had turned him into the team's talisman.
After the match, the Chinese players turned their celebrations toward their head coach, Arie Haan. The Dutchman, whose tactical approach and steady leadership had guided the team through the qualifiers, was enthusiastically hoisted into the air by his players. They tossed him up repeatedly, cheers ringing out as if they had just won a major championship. The joyous scene reflected the camaraderie and collective spirit of a team that had overcome past disappointments to achieve something truly remarkable.
The victory wasn't just about qualifying for the World Cup. It was a statement—a demonstration that Chinese football was progressing, leaving behind the shadows of past failures. As the players celebrated on the field and fans rejoiced across the nation, the belief in this team's potential burned brighter than ever.
Yang Yang stood at the heart of it all, his name now synonymous with hope and possibility for Chinese football.
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The day after the Chinese team's narrow 1-0 victory over North Korea, the nation's media erupted with coverage of the historic achievement. From national television broadcasts to prominent newspapers and online platforms, the headlines celebrated China's qualification for the 2006 World Cup in Germany. Across the country, fans rejoiced at Chinese football's second-ever advancement to the grandest stage of international football.
The excitement was palpable. To qualify for two consecutive World Cups was a monumental achievement, symbolizing progress for the sport in China. Among the flood of praise, much of the spotlight fell on Yang Yang, whose dazzling goal against North Korea had sealed the team's success. Media outlets lauded the 18-year-old prodigy for his ability to deliver under pressure, hailing his stunning dribble past multiple defenders as the defining moment of the match.
Yang Yang, who had carried his outstanding form from the Dutch League and European competitions into the national team, was described as "unstoppable" by fans and pundits alike. Interviews with Yang Yang dominated the coverage, and his humility only further endeared him to supporters.
When asked about his performance, Yang Yang downplayed his role, emphasizing the collective effort of the team. "It wasn't just me," he said. "Our victory came from the hard work of every player on the pitch. This was a team effort."
Looking ahead to the World Cup a year later, Yang Yang struck a measured tone. "We'll go with a learning attitude," he said earnestly. "To be honest, whether it's European or South American teams—or even teams from Africa or North America—we have no real advantage. Competing in football is about comprehensive strength, and we still have a long way to go."
Yang Yang's pragmatic view resonated with both the media and fans, who had become more realistic after the disappointment of China's performance at the 2002 World Cup. His remarks reflected a maturity well beyond his years. For the upcoming tournament, Yang Yang set a modest but significant goal: earning the team's first-ever points on the World Cup stage.
"The World Cup is the pinnacle of international football," he explained. "It's where the best teams and players in the world come together. Just being there is a recognition of our progress. But it's also an opportunity to learn, to test ourselves against the strongest opponents, and to grow as a team."
Yang Yang continued, offering insights that struck a chord across the country. "We need to establish a clear football philosophy. We have to learn to accept failure, to analyze why we lose, and to celebrate victories with understanding. Winning isn't enough—we need to know why we won. And when we lose, we need to take that experience and ensure it doesn't happen again."
His words weren't just reflective; they were forward-thinking. He called for systemic improvements in Chinese football, emphasizing the importance of youth development and league structure. "We need more young players to step out of their comfort zones and play in Europe. The sooner they go, the better. But it's not just about going abroad. They need to join teams where they can play and develop."
Yang Yang also highlighted the importance of learning from the successes of footballing nations. "Our domestic league and youth training need significant attention. The Football Association's cooperation with Germany is a great start. Germany faced a similar crisis in the mid-1990s, with a talent gap and declining performances. But they recognized the issue and took action. With support from leaders like Beckenbauer, they began a massive reform of their youth system. By the time I joined Ajax, German youth training was already a major topic of discussion among coaches. Their commitment over a decade has paid off."
He also mentioned Spain's recent strides in youth development. "Spain has built an incredibly strong youth system, producing world-class talents like Fabregas, Reyes, Torres, and Iniesta. When we play in the World Youth Championships, we'll see just how strong their youth teams are. It's something we must study and adapt to our domestic environment. We can't just move forward aimlessly—we need a clear strategy."
Yang Yang's remarks, aired on national television, struck a nerve with fans and officials alike. His message wasn't just about celebrating qualification; it was a sobering reminder of the work that still needed to be done. He emphasized that qualifying for the World Cup twice wasn't enough. Sustained success required a strong foundation—robust youth development programs and a well-structured domestic league.
His candor resonated deeply. Fans admired his honesty, while officials within the Football Association acknowledged the truth in his words. The painful memories of the last World Cup, where China exited without scoring a goal or earning a point, were still fresh. That campaign had exposed weaknesses at every level of the sport in the country, from grassroots development to league management.
This time, Yang Yang's vision provided a sense of clarity and direction. His call for systemic reform wasn't just well-received—it became a rallying cry. From the Football Association to local clubs, his words sparked discussions about how to implement meaningful change.
Officials expressed their support for Yang Yang's vision, with commitments to invest in youth training and draw from the successes of nations like Germany and Spain. Fans, too, were inspired, not just by Yang Yang's performances on the pitch but by his thoughtful approach to the future of Chinese football.
The triumph over North Korea and qualification for the World Cup were milestones worth celebrating, but Yang Yang's words reminded everyone that the real work was just beginning. If Chinese football was to truly rise, it needed more than fleeting moments of success—it needed a solid foundation and a long-term vision.
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Five days later, the Chinese team remained in Tianjin for the fifth round of the group stage in the final round of the AFC qualifiers. With their World Cup qualification already secured, the pressure was off as they faced a strong Iranian side. The match provided an opportunity for the team to experiment and for younger players to gain valuable experience against high-caliber opponents.
Despite the lack of stakes, the game was hard-fought, with both sides determined to make their mark. In the 48th minute, Yang Yang showcased his versatility and vision. Taking a free kick from the right side of the frontcourt, he delivered a pinpoint cross into the box. The ball sailed perfectly toward Li Weifeng, who rose above the Iranian defenders and powered a header into the back of the net, giving China the lead.
The stadium erupted in applause as fans cheered the seamless connection between Yang Yang and Li Weifeng. It was yet another reminder of Yang Yang's influence, not just as a scorer but as a creator capable of elevating his teammates' performances.
However, the Iranian team refused to back down. Midway through the second half, they equalized with a well-executed counterattack, leveling the score at 1-1. The remainder of the match saw chances on both sides, but neither team could find a winner. After ninety minutes, the game ended in a draw, a result that felt fair given the balance of play.
For China, the draw was inconsequential, their World Cup berth already secured. But the game provided valuable insights for head coach Arie Haan, who continued to refine his squad's tactics and identify key players for the upcoming tournament in Germany.
The day after the match, Yang Yang, alongside teammates Chen Tao, Zhou Haibin, and Feng Xiaoting, boarded a flight to Amsterdam, marking the beginning of their next challenge: the 2005 FIFA World Youth Championship.
The tournament, held in the Netherlands, had garnered worldwide attention as a showcase of football's rising stars. For Yang Yang, fresh off a stellar season with Ajax and his heroics in the national team, it was another opportunity to demonstrate his talent on the global stage. Joining him were some of China's brightest young talents, eager to test themselves against the best youth teams in the world.
As the plane took off, Yang Yang glanced out of the window, his mind already focused on the road ahead. The World Youth Championship wasn't just another competition—it was a platform to prove that Chinese football could compete with the elite and a stage where Yang Yang could continue to cement his growing reputation.