England's Greatest

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"A powerful long-range shot!"

"The ball goes in!"

"Italy takes the lead! The goal was scored by number eight Marchisio!"

The Italian players erupted in celebration, their joy contagious as they crowded around Marchisio, who had just given them the advantage. On the English bench, however, disappointment was evident.

Tristan, sitting among the substitutes, couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment.

"That's the kind of mistake I knew was coming," he thought to himself. Despite expecting it, seeing it unfold live was a different experience entirely. Watching on TV had never been the same as witnessing a crucial moment in person.

"The reason superstars are superstars is their ability to make something happen when it matters most," Tristan mused.

Pirlo had orchestrated that moment of brilliance in his usual unhurried style. His vision and ability to decide the outcome of a game in the blink of an eye were what made him so exceptional.

"He's a true midfield artist," Tristan thought, admiring Pirlo's composure.

The goal came after a series of small missteps in the England defense. A tactical corner kick, Pirlo's unintentional mistake, and the failure to properly defend outside the penalty area left Marchisio with an open path to fire a shot into the net.

The penalty area was crowded, with too many bodies blocking Joe Hart's view of the shot. The fine details before the goal's execution had all worked in Italy's favor, leading to the opening strike.

Of course, conceding the first goal was a blow to the English side, but it wasn't the end of the story. There was still time for a response.

"Here comes England!" the commentator shouted, as the Three Lions immediately launched a counterattack.

In just two minutes, England leveled the score. After a quick break in the midfield, Henderson's ball found Sterling, who turned and saw Rooney charging up the left wing after an exchange with Welbeck. Without hesitation, Sterling sent a perfectly weighted through ball to Rooney, who broke forward and sent in a precise cross to Sturridge who like a predator sensing its moment, had darted between the center-backs, reading the play before anyone else.

The ball came to him at pace, but his finish was effortless. A quick adjustment of his body, a delicate touch with his left foot, and the ball was in the back of the net. The ball screamed past Sirigu, who tried desperately to stop it, but it was already too late. The net bulged, and England had their equalizer!

"Well done, Daniel!"

"Nice shot!"

The English players on the bench jumped up in celebration, the atmosphere now completely different from the despondency that followed Italy's goal. But just as the excitement reached its peak, an unfortunate incident unfolded on the sidelines.

"Wait, what's happening over there?"

"Looks like the team doctor's down!"

In his excitement, the team doctor had sprained his ankle while celebrating. The sight of him lying on the ground with his hands raised in a comedic fashion caught the attention of everyone nearby, but no one could suppress their laughter.

"Moore's sprained his ankle! That looks pretty serious," the commentator said, as the medical staff rushed over to tend to the doctor.

Tristan shared a glance with Vardy, both struggling to contain their amusement.

"It's always the small things that make the game memorable, right?" Tristan thought, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

But as England celebrated, the game wasn't done with them yet.

"Balotelli, with a sensational lob attempt!"

The ball floated beautifully over Joe Hart's head, heading for the top corner of the net. But Jagielka, just in time, leapt up to head the ball away and clear the danger.

"That was close, really close!" the commentator exclaimed.

"It could have been a world-class goal if not for that clearance," another added.

As the first half came to a close, the scoreline was 1-1. Both teams had their moments, and the second half promised to be even more thrilling. For Tristan, the match was a reminder of just how quickly a game could turn.

"The score of 1-1 at halftime is a good result for both sides," the commentator began. "Especially for England, who quickly equalized after conceding that first goal. A morale-boosting moment!"

"You know, going into halftime with a 1-1 scoreline is completely different from being down 0-1," another commentator added. "The former means both teams are on even ground, ready to continue as planned, while the latter would force England to make tactical changes to compensate for that one-goal gap."

"That's right," the first commentator responded. "If they push forward too much, England risks leaving space in defense, which could easily lead to another goal for Italy."

The second half started, and England's pressing game began immediately. But Pirlo, ever composed, seemed unaffected by the pressure.

"Pirlo is just unreal," the commentator exclaimed as Pirlo flicked the ball effortlessly past his defenders. "It doesn't matter how much pressure they put on him, he's always one step ahead."

As Andrea Pirlo, Marco Verratti, and Claudio Marchisio calmly passed the ball between them in midfield, England's players were drawn further into the center of the pitch. Their compact defensive shape began to falter, leaving gaping holes on both flanks. The Italian team, as sharp as ever, saw the opportunity to exploit those spaces.

Just five minutes into the second half, Matteo Darmian, Italy's energetic right-back, surged forward. He had been a constant outlet throughout the game, timing his runs to perfection. This time, he overlapped Antonio Candreva, who controlled the ball near the sideline. With a clever feint, Candreva sent Leighton Baines the wrong way, cutting inside with ease to create the space he needed for a cross.

The England defense scrambled, with Cahill and Jagielka backpedaling into the penalty area. Candreva took a quick glance up and swung in a pinpoint cross, curling it away from Joe Hart but into the perfect danger zone. The ball sailed just over Gerrard's desperate attempt to intercept and bypassed Baines, who had no chance to recover.

At the far post, Mario Balotelli was waiting. Rising high above Gary Cahill, he timed his jump with immaculate precision. His powerful header rocketed the ball past Hart, who could only watch helplessly as it hit the back of the net.

"Goal! Balotelli!" the commentator's voice boomed as the stadium erupted. Italian fans jumped to their feet, waving flags and chanting his name. 

Balotelli sprinted toward the corner flag, his arms spread wide, soaking in the adoration of the crowd. His teammates swarmed him, patting him on the back and shouting encouragement. On the sidelines, Cesare Prandelli pumped his fist, pleased with how his tactical plan was unfolding.

For England, the goal was a dagger to the heart. Cameras panned to the stands, where England fans sat in stunned silence, some burying their heads in their hands, others shouting frustrations into the night air. On the touchline, Roy Hodgson's frustration was evident as he barked orders to his staff. He gestured frantically toward the bench, signaling for fresh legs.

Hodgson knew changes were needed—the current lineup was being outclassed by Italy's organization and composure.

Back on the pitch, England tried to respond, but their frustrations began to show. Rooney, desperate to make an impact, had three opportunities in the next ten minutes, but none found the net. One curled wide of the far post, another was blocked by Bonucci, and the third—a venomous strike—was parried brilliantly by Salvatore Sirigu. Rooney threw his arms up in exasperation, gesturing angrily at his teammates, demanding more urgency.

Meanwhile, Gerrard, in his eagerness to inspire a comeback, began pushing higher up the pitch, leaving England's midfield exposed. Italy noticed the imbalance and calmly shifted gears, holding possession when necessary and countering when England overcommitted.

"England looks fractured," the commentator noted as the camera captured Hodgson shaking his head. "They're playing like individuals rather than a cohesive unit. Italy's discipline is winning the day."

"England has fired shot after shot," the first commentator continued, "but none have found the target. Italy's defense is simply too tight for the English forwards to break through."

Back on the sideline, Hodgson exchanged words with his assistant before calling for the substitutes.

"Jamie! Tristan! Get ready to play!" he called out, signaling the changes to his team.

As the camera zoomed in on Tristan, warming up and preparing to enter the field, the commentators prepared for the shift in England's approach.

"With these changes, England is about to take more risks," the first commentator remarked. "Can they find a way to break through Italy's defense, or will the Azzurri hold firm and take the win?"

"Tristan, when you go on, play as a front midfielder and let Wayne push forward," the assistant coach instructed. "Control the ball first, then look for passes behind the defense into the space on the wings."

"Jamie, once you're in, focus on making more runs down the left and deliver those crosses in time," he added, showing them the tactical formation on the diagram before turning away.

On the sideline, Tristan and Vardy shared a quick hug, preparing for their entry.

"Jamie, it's our turn!" Tristan said, excitement evident in his voice.

"Make sure you pass it to me later!" Vardy responded with a grin.

"Don't worry! Just keep running, and if I don't pass, it's my fault!" Tristan laughed, giving his teammate a reassuring nod.

The game continued, and after a brief period of waiting, a dead ball situation finally arrived.

In the 65th minute, England made their first substitution:

"Number 21, Jamie Vardy, replaces number 11 Welbeck!" The first commentator announced.

"And number 22, Tristan Hale, comes on to replace number 9, Sturridge!" The second commentator added with surprise.

"England's first substitution of the match," the commentator noted. "Vardy comes on for Welbeck, a straight swap."

"And what is Hodgson thinking here?" the second commentator questioned. "Sturridge, the goal scorer, is being replaced by a 19-year-old fresh from the Championship, Tristan Hale. It's a bold decision. Hale may have impressed in the warm-up matches, but this is the World Cup! Not to mention, it's Italy they're up against."

"That's right," the first commentator agreed. "This is a huge moment for Tristan and Vardy. Their World Cup debuts come under a lot of pressure, and Hodgson will be hoping they can make a significant impact."

While the England commentators were discussing the move, many international commentators were left stunned by the substitution.

"Look at the reaction from the Italian fans!" one commentator pointed out. "They can't believe it. They've just seen Sturridge, the man who scored England's equalizer, leave the field for a young, untested player."

Tristan, wearing the number 22, had not yet made a name for himself outside of England. With no experience in European competitions, the Italian fans were puzzled.

"They've replaced Sturridge with this young, unknown player from Leicester City," another commentator noted. "For the Italians, it's a baffling choice. They see this as an admission of defeat. Sturridge, a top Premier League scorer, has been pulled off in favor of someone from England's second-tier league."

But what the fans didn't know was that under Hodgson's guidance, there was great hope for the young player.

Prandelli had studied game footage of Tristan, concluding that he was likely the most creative player in the England squad. The Italian coach had planned for this moment, ready to neutralize him should he appear on the pitch.

"And now, with Hale about to enter, Prandelli is making adjustments," the commentator continued. "He's called Marchisio to the sidelines to relay specific instructions."

"Tell De Rossi and Verratti to keep a tighter grip on number 22," Prandelli directed. "Don't let him get any space on the ball."

Marchisio, clearly taken aback by the intensity of Prandelli's instructions, nodded firmly. "Don't worry, coach," he assured, though he couldn't fully understand why the coach was so concerned about the young English player.

On the field, the Italian players remained unimpressed by the substitution. They had studied Tristan's highlights, but in their minds, a 19-year-old from the English Championship couldn't possibly alter the course of a World Cup match.

 After all, if top stars like Rooney and Gerrard couldn't break down Italy's defense, why would this young kid from the second tier of English football do any better?

Meanwhile, Vardy's presence was hardly felt by the Italians. His speed was known, but they saw him merely as a point-chasing forward, no real threat.

As Sturridge made his way off the pitch, he clapped hands with Tristan but walked straight back to the bench, clearly not thrilled with the decision to be substituted.

The camera caught Sturridge's walk, showing a faint frown on his face, but he quickly masked it, knowing full well the importance of maintaining composure.

Tristan was unfazed by Sturridge's reaction. He understood the striker's frustration perfectly. After all, it wasn't easy to be substituted when the team was trailing, especially when you felt like you were in form and had already scored. But Tristan also knew that in such situations, the coach's decisions were final—whether you liked them or not.

For Sturridge, it had to sting a bit more. At club level, he was a key figure, second only to Suarez in the striker pecking order, and any dissatisfaction with being substituted was often soothed by his manager. But the national team was a different story entirely. Here, disrespecting the coach was a surefire way to kiss your international career goodbye.

As the crowd clapped for Sturridge's exit, Tristan wasted no time. Sprinting across the pitch, he arrived at the midfield and called out to Rooney, who was already moving up the field.

"Wayne, the coach told you to go forward, I'm behind you!" Tristan shouted, his voice sharp with focus.

Rooney nodded and pushed forward, the captain already taking charge of the attack. Tristan then turned to Gerrard and relayed the next set of instructions. "Steven, the coach said we need to control the ball more, play together, and make each attack count."

Gerrard gave a curt nod in reply, his experience showing in the way he absorbed the message without hesitation.

The game was in full swing, but Italy maintained their control. Marchisio fed a pass to De Rossi, who was moving to receive it, but Tristan wasn't going to let that happen without a challenge. With a burst of acceleration, he closed the gap in seconds, his pace making De Rossi hesitate. In a panic, De Rossi sent a hasty clearance forward that sailed straight into the waiting arms of England's Cahill.

The ball was quickly recycled, with Cahill passing to Gerrard. As the captain took the ball, he heard a voice behind him.

"Steven!"

Without a second thought, Gerrard played the ball to Tristan, who was now in full control. His first touch was smooth, settling the ball at his feet before spinning away from pressure. Without breaking stride, Tristan threaded a perfectly weighted diagonal pass to Vardy on the left flank.

As he released the ball, Tristan didn't just stand still. He immediately began to move closer to Vardy, ready to support the attack.

On the Italian bench, Prandelli's eyebrows knitted together in concern. On the field, Italian fans were starting to murmur in disbelief at how quickly the young English player had moved across the midfield.

With each touch, Tristan seemed to dictate the tempo. His playmaking was sharp, and despite the Italian midfielders pressing him hard, he didn't flinch. A quick pass, a drop of the shoulder, and he was free again—calm and composed in a way that belied his age. His vision was impeccable, his decisions quick but precise.

Italy's players, who had come prepared to face England's big names like Rooney and Gerrard, began to wonder if they'd been looking in the wrong direction. It wasn't just the youthful exuberance of Vardy or the power of Rooney that could change this game—it was this kid, number 22, the one they'd written off before kick-off.

The comparisons to Pirlo started to form in their minds—an England version, perhaps faster, more mobile, but with the same ability to control the game with a flick of the foot. But Tristan wasn't just a one-trick pony; his speed and work rate were something else entirely. Whereas Pirlo's ability had waned with age, Tristan's energy covered every inch of the field, from box to box.

As the minutes ticked on, England's rhythm began to shift. Possession, which had been a struggle earlier, now saw an impressive rise—up from 45% to 65%. Slowly, but surely, England was imposing itself on the game, while Italy, pushed back by the relentless pressure, was left to launch occasional long balls to Balotelli.

Then, in the 80th minute, the most dangerous threat Italy had posed in the second half emerged. Balotelli, using his physicality to muscle past Jagielka and Cahill, unleashed a thunderous shot that Joe Hart did well to save, diving low to keep it out. But the pressure had built, and Italy's reward came with a corner.

Set pieces were a vital weapon for Italy, and all eyes turned to their towering defenders, Chiellini, Barzagli, and Paletta, as they surged into England's penalty area.

But Tristan's sharp eyes caught something different. With the corner kick coming in, he spotted a gap—a massive space left behind by the only remaining full-back, Damian, who had stayed deep. The wheels started turning in his head. This was it. This corner, this very moment, could be England's chance to counter.

.....

Don't know what happened but this was posted yesterday somehow, I think I set the wrong time for it to be published but I don't know so I had to delete it. Also I apperciate it if you guys dropped some reviews, the story only got 22 right now. I don't want new readers dropping the story just because they see the mc is half Chinese, I don't really mind what stars you give. Thank you 🙏