He himself was not sure of destroying it in advance. If he lost it, there would be a blank space behind him...

As a defender, what I fear most is this kind of situation where I pounce in half and suddenly hesitate.

...

Just as Raphael was hesitating, Bale took the ball with his back, and at the same time, he beautifully wiped the football and turned around.

At this time, Raphael rushed towards Bell as if he had woken up from a dream.

This guy must not be allowed to enter the penalty area.

Raphael was thinking about this first.

He reached out to pull Bell's jersey.

He is not the last defensive player. He is not lucky enough to be a yellow card if he is fouled at this position. If the referee shows mercy, he may not even be able to take the yellow card, but just a verbal warning.

So, Raphael chose to make a tactical foul.

Then everyone saw this scene:

Bale received a precise pass from Modric, stopped the ball beautifully, turned around, and accelerated.

Raphael got to pull someone up.

Bell fell to the ground in response.

beep!

The referee's whistle sounded.

Raphael got his wish and praised himself, but he was very smart and deliberately made an innocent expression of spreading his hands and looking at the referee.

"I did nothing."

Vidic almost couldn't hold back his laughter. His little brother was so tempted to pull people, and he pretended to be innocent: a child is teachable!

The next second, Vidic smiled no longer because he couldn't laugh.

Raphael showed an expression of shock, confusion, panic and anger, which was an expression that could not be accurately described by words or words.

Referee Riley did not play cards.

There was no meaning to verbally warn Raphael.

He just walked over two quick steps, and at the same time, lifted his finger:

Pointed to the penalty spot.

Penalty!

Riley awarded a penalty.

On the sidelines, I was sitting firmly on the Diaoyutai just now, and I even felt that I should like Ferguson for Raphael's decisive tactical foul, as if there was a needle under my butt.

The old man jumped up suddenly and rushed out of the seat and roared: (Fuck your grandma), (Dog shit), how could this be a penalty kick?! That's outside the penalty area!

Ferguson was so angry that the old man roared loudly, his face turned red, his anger roared, and his saliva was squirting.

Fang Jue, who was just blocked by the opponent's tactical foul, had not had time to curse, but saw the referee pointing at the penalty spot.

Hey?

Fang Jue blinked, then rushed out of the seat and waved his arm hard.

At the same time, he turned his head and shouted to the next door: Jazz, penalty kick, that's right!

Don't make a quibble!

"Listen to the referee! Stop making trouble, sir!" Fang Jue persuaded him kindly. The old man had a bad heart. Don't think that if he installed a nuclear-powered pacemaker, he could do it freely and be calm.

PS: The fifth update, brothers, please give me a monthly ticket.
Chapter completed!