socalfunplaces Chapter 81: All my lack of confidence stems from a fear of insufficient firepower.
Chapter 81: All my lack of confidence stems from a fear of insufficient firepower.
Chapter 81 All the lack of confidence stems from the fear of insufficient firepower.
"What do you mean? Is there any special reason?"
Zhang laughed wildly.
"Teacher Liu, I have a question for you—have you ever seen me perform poorly on the court?"
Liu Jianhong thought for a moment: "No."
"That's right," Zhang Kuang said arrogantly. "Sometimes rumors aren't just rumors; they could be true. But that's not important. What's important is whether I can keep scoring goals on the field, and whether those rumored girls are satisfied with me."
He paused.
"You say you bring many women home, but they're not satisfied afterward, isn't that just humiliating yourself? Similarly, if you can't score on the field, will living like an ascetic help you?"
As I said before, all defeats and fears on the battlefield stem from insufficient firepower. If my firepower is sufficient, the fans are satisfied, the club is satisfied, the women are satisfied, and then public opinion will be satisfied too.
Liu Jianhong looked at Zhang Kuang with an indescribable emotion in his eyes. Sure enough, the name was well-chosen; it was indeed arrogant enough.
"You are very confident."
"It's not confidence, it's self-awareness," Zhang said arrogantly. "I know what I can do and what I can't do. I can score goals, I can head the ball, I can shoot from long range, and I can break through defenses."
I'm not good at defense, I can't organize the offense, and I can't act as a pivot. I know my strengths and weaknesses, so I can maximize my strengths.
Liu Jianhong: "Okay, can you talk about your experiences? For example, from when you can remember things."
Zhang Kuang: "Of course you can—"
The conversation lasted for about half an hour. After all, it involved more than ten years of experience, which couldn't be summarized in just one sentence. In addition, Liu Jianhong would occasionally interject with questions.
"There's another important question," Liu Jianhong said, closing his notebook. "Why are you unwilling to give up your Chinese citizenship? If you changed your nationality, you could play in the World Cup. Don't you want to play in the World Cup?"
Zhang Kuang fell silent.
The meeting room was silent for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"I want to play in the World Cup, every player wants to play in the World Cup. But I want to play in the World Cup with the Chinese team, not any other country's World Cup. Unfortunately, I may never be able to fulfill this wish in my lifetime."
He looked at the camera.
"I believe that people must have a minimum bottom line. Football is my career and hobby, and nationality and ethnicity are my bottom line."
The reason a bottom line is a bottom line is because once you cross it, even if your career truly reaches its peak, you will fall into an abyss of moral decay, leading to lifelong regret.
"So, even if you never play in the World Cup, you won't change your nationality?"
"No," Zhang Kuang said. "My greatest pride in this life is being born Chinese. I will not give up this identity or this bottom line just to play in the World Cup."
Liu Jianhong: "Okay, very well said. The reason why the bottom line is the bottom line is because once you cross it, even if your career really reaches its peak, you will fall into an abyss in terms of personality and regret it for the rest of your life."
"You're so arrogant. I think I finally understand the Sun's interview about the four girls who went home with you. They weren't exaggerating; they were simply stating the facts. You really are insightful and talented."
Zhang Kuang shrugged: "I don't think this is any kind of talent, just some of my honest thoughts. After all, sincerity is the ultimate weapon."
Liu Jianhong then asked him several questions about his time playing at the club, such as his relationship with his teammates and his communication with the coach.
After asking these questions, the interview ended.
"Zhang Kuang, thank you for accepting our interview."
"You're too kind, Professor Liu. Giving me an interview is beneficial too."
The two shook hands.
Liu Jianhong looked at him, remained silent for two seconds, and then said something.
"Some of what you said was harsh, but I think you're right."
Zhang laughed wildly.
"Harsh words are often the truth."
Liu Jianhong nodded, patted him on the shoulder, and turned to leave.
The producer walked over and handed Zhang Kuang a business card: "Zhang Kuang, if you ever return to China, please feel free to contact us. We welcome you to visit us anytime."
"Okay." Zhang Kuang took the business card and put it in his pocket.
When Zhang Kuang reappeared at Auxerre's training base on May 7, many loyal Auxerre fans had already gathered there. They welcomed Zhang Kuang, Auxerre's championship hero, with enthusiastic applause and cheers.
Zhang Kuang also took photos and signed autographs with some of their representatives, and the small town of only tens of thousands of people was plunged into a carnival atmosphere.
Although the championship parade hasn't started yet, everyone is already preparing everything for it.
"Hey Zhang, are you really going to Manchester United?" Humbert asked Zhang Kuang in the locker room.
Zhang Kuang nodded: "Perhaps, most likely we'll go there, but it's not decided yet."
"My God, Manchester United, we might meet in the Champions League next season."
"Ugh, that's hard to say. Damn, how do we defend against Zhang? Maybe we should practice defending against Zhang first?"
"Practice first? You guys can practice if you want. Anyway, I can't defend against him. If we really meet in the Champions League, I'll just stop defending against Zhang and surrender."
"Who said they were going to surrender? Anyone who surrenders is violating the law; at the very least, they should raise a white flag."
"Fuck, this is too poisonous—"
Everyone was having a great time in the locker room, chatting and laughing together.
There's nothing they can do; they're now completely without ambition, except for the French Cup in a few days. But they're arrogant, so what are they afraid of?
After training that day, Zhang Kuang was preparing to return to Paris when Humbert approached him again.
"Zhang, we have new stock coming your way, you—"
"Oh, shit, our captain, don't try to sell me like a gigolo, okay? I'm not that kind of person—"
When Zhang Kuang saw the photos Humbert showed him, he was stunned. Could it be like this?
He then arrogantly cursed, "Where the hell did you find these women? How did they end up with you?"
"Just tell me if you like it or not. If you don't, then pretend I didn't say anything."
"Damn, time and place."
"Hehe, I'll send it to you later."
"Don't find me any more women. It makes me feel like a gigolo. I'm a king, a man of honor."
"Ha, I understand, I understand, don't worry, this is the last time, this is absolutely the last time," Humbert assured him.
After making the appointment with Humbert, he drove his second-hand Ferrari back to Paris. Thinking about Aisa's promise to introduce him to some girls after he won the championship, he suddenly felt that life was wonderful. But honestly, he couldn't even imagine the beautiful women Humbert had just shown off. In his previous life, he could only drool over them on his phone. He never thought that in this life, these women would pay to come to his door.
It's true—beautiful women are a rare commodity in the eyes of the poor, but just playthings in the eyes of celebrities!
No, they paid for it, which means I'm their plaything?
Damn, this is really annoying. I'll have to show them what I'm capable of later.