Chapter 105: The Beloved José
"Brilliant!"
That was the only word that flashed through José's mind as he watched Ronaldinho, with the poise of a seasoned maestro, loft a perfectly weighted chip pass from just outside the penalty area into the box. The pass was nothing short of textbook perfection—an artistry that belonged in the annals of football history. Ronaldinho's vision to lift his head and pick out the less-marked space on the right had deceived the opposition completely. The pace and precision of that chip were impeccable. And the decision to thread the ball to Luke instead of the faster Eto'o was no accident either; Barcelona's players well remembered the blistering pace of Eto'o from last season at Camp Nou and had marked him accordingly.
Luke, a relatively new face in Barcelona's defensive setup this season, was virtually unknown to their backline. Yet Ronaldinho's awareness on the pitch—gauging the degree of pressure on the two forwards ahead—underscored his exceptional instincts.
As the ball landed inside the box, Luke burst from the crowd and reached the first rebound. With Avelado and de Boer in hot pursuit, nothing could stop Luke from firing a shot as soon as he got hold of the ball. When Ditrul leaped to his full extent in a desperate attempt to parry the ball, his effort was just a fraction short. The ball ricocheted off his outstretched hand and tumbled back into the penalty area.
Xavi, rushing to collect the loose ball, found himself a split second too late. In an instant, a shadowy figure—almost ghostlike in his movement—intercepted Xavi's intended pass.
"Ronaldinho with the chip, Luke with the shot—oh! The ball's been deflected back into the area! Xavi... that was lightning-fast! And Eto'o! He's swooping in to win back possession from Xavi's feet!"
Xavi, realizing his error only after being dispossessed, instinctively tried to counter-press. But Eto'o, though not the most physically imposing, possessed a sturdy frame and muscular build that clearly gave him an edge over Xavi, who, at just 1.70 meters, couldn't hope to outmuscle the 1.80-meter Eto'o. Before Xavi could recover, Eto'o had already lofted the ball again.
Ditrul, still reeling on the ground from his earlier dive, had no time to recover. He could only flail a desperate arm as the ball sailed over his head and sped into the net.
"GOOOOAAALL! Samuel Eto'o! That's his third league goal this season! Ever since Eto'o transferred to Mallorca—after barely featuring for Real Madrid—he's been firing on all cylinders. Even when he was on loan last season, he never looked this lethal... Five league games, three goals, plus two in the Copa del Rey! Eto'o is beginning to display the killer instinct of a top striker. Compared to last season, his performance and his link-up play with his teammates have improved drastically. It's almost unbelievable that a striker who played only twice for Real Madrid last season could now be the spearhead of a three-pronged attack. Sure, Raúl has also been outstanding this season, and Morientes has slowly shaken off last season's shadows, but if Real Madrid could line up three forwards for Ángel Di María, why can't they do the same for Eto'o? His talent is every bit as formidable as Di María's..."