The second half of the match began, and both teams mainly relied on long balls instead of short passes to penetrate.
On one hand, this strategy minimized energy consumption.
On the other hand, it helped maintain defensive stability.
The only downside was that the forwards had to sprint nonstop like dogs.
In this regard, Suker had a huge advantage—his almost bug-like stamina.
Even after Manchester United made substitutions, Suker kept charging, causing serious headaches for their defense.
It wasn't just Suker; Kaká was also attacking the defense.
However, Kaká stayed hidden behind Suker's position.
His presence was less obvious.
But Manchester United dared not be careless—they knew well that if Kaká suddenly stepped out from behind Suker, conceding a goal wouldn't be far off.
The match continued.
Both Manchester United and AC Milan had used two substitutions each, saving their final change around the 80th minute as a precaution.
Neither side could afford any carelessness.
Though Manchester United was leading, they remained cautious.
After gaining the lead, United eased off their intense sprints, knowing that if they pushed too hard, their stamina might break down before the match ended.
They focused on controlling key passing channels and restricting Milan's forwards.
Suker remained the main target of United's defense.
Substitute defender Wayne Brown fixed almost all his attention on Suker.
Ferguson's orders were clear: "Silence that damn Croatian."
Wayne Brown loyally carried out his duty, eyes glued to Suker at all times.
Once Suker started moving, Brown immediately followed up, even resorting to fouls.
"Seriously, no shame at all," Suker muttered silently.
You're Manchester United!
A prestigious club!
Is it really necessary to mark a newcomer so crazily?
Even Vidic had been run off the field, and now here was Wayne Brown.
Suker felt mentally exhausted.
Suker floated between the defensive and midfield lines.
He constantly watched the surrounding situation and his own back line.
With a numerical advantage, the defense was relatively stable.
But Pirlo still struggled to distribute the ball.
Pirlo was racking his brains.
This match depended on Suker and Kaká, but they couldn't do all the work alone.
The rest had to step up too.
Pirlo received the ball with his back to goal, flicked it with his instep, and passed to Seedorf.
Using his excellent skills, Seedorf escaped his marker.
As Seedorf prepared to pass forward, Pirlo suddenly shouted,
"Pass here!"
Seedorf was puzzled but passed anyway.
At that moment, Pirlo had moved to an unmarked spot, controlled the ball, and looked up at Suker.
Suker's body began to tilt slightly to the side—ready to turn and charge.
Pirlo fired the ball like a bowstring.
As he passed, he shouted, "Feet!"
Suker was about to start his run but stopped instantly.
He watched the ball—it had a shallow arc, not a typical through ball.
The ball came fast, heading straight to Suker's feet.
"Whoa?"
Suker's eyes lit up.
Pirlo had suddenly woken up.
The pass was brilliant!
Meanwhile, Manchester United's two center backs, Wayne Brown and Ferdinand, instinctively stepped back.
They thought Pirlo had sent a through ball behind the defense, but after retreating a few steps, they realized the ball was going directly to Suker's feet.
"Close him down!"
Ferdinand quickly instructed Wayne Brown to press.
Wayne Brown rushed forward immediately.
But Suker slightly jumped, chest-controlled the ball, and as it dropped, tapped it sideways with his left foot.
After passing, Suker pivoted on his right foot, dodging Wayne Brown's challenge and sprinted diagonally forward.
"F**k!"
Watching Suker cut forward, the ball arrived at Kaká's feet, who accelerated.
Ferdinand was frozen in place.
If he moved, Kaká could pass a grounded ball to Suker directly.
Ferdinand had to grit his teeth and stay put.
Seeing this, Kaká crossed the ball.
The ball flew over Ferdinand's head toward Suker sprinting ahead.
"Offside!"
The British commentator frowned.
But when the camera angle changed, they saw O'Shea standing next to Suker.
"Shit! Why is he there?"
O'Shea's mind was in chaos.
He didn't know why he had appeared there.
But when Suker started his forward run, he couldn't help but follow.
This ruined United's offside trap.
O'Shea ran with a pale face.
He knew he had made a mistake.
He needed to make up for it.
But seeing Suker one step ahead and the ball approaching, O'Shea panicked.
He slid in recklessly.
Ah~~~~~~~~~~!!!
Suker's feet were tripped, and he flew forward.
On the rain-soaked pitch, he slid along the ground.
Just as Suker was about to get up to contest the ball, a sharp whistle blew.
The referee rushed over decisively and brandished a red card at O'Shea.
O'Shea had executed a scissors tackle from behind inside the penalty box—an immediate red card offense.
Even worse, it was a red card plus penalty combo.
O'Shea was stunned.
He knelt on the ground, pale and clearly terrified.
He didn't understand why he had done such a reckless tackle; he only wanted to stop Suker.
But it was too late!
"O'Shea! Oh my God! What a stupid mistake! At 76 minutes, O'Shea received a straight red card for a scissors tackle from behind inside the penalty area and conceded a penalty to Milan!"
"This could very well ruin the hard-earned lead Manchester United had built."
O'Shea trudged off the pitch in a daze.
Manchester United players made no protest.
Everyone knew it was a textbook red card.
Ferguson's usually calm face flushed red instantly.
When O'Shea passed him, Ferguson's eyes seemed to burn with rage.
Everyone knew O'Shea was doomed!
That penalty and red card might cost United the match—and also potentially end O'Shea's career at Manchester United.
Suker quickly stood up.
Though his ankle ached faintly, the pain wasn't severe.
He could heal after the match using his recovery items.
Now, he couldn't waste this chance.
"Here!"
Gattuso personally handed the ball to Suker, coming over and gently patting his shoulder.
"You've got this!"
Gattuso was clearly nervous.
At this moment, if they missed the penalty, they were finished.
Suker looked at Gattuso.
"If I score, you treat me to Chinese food in Milan's city center, how about that?"
Gattuso was momentarily stunned and grumbled, "A hundred meals are fine!"
"Just wait!"
Suker patted Gattuso's shoulder and grinned, "I'll take you to Athens!"
The 2006/2007 Champions League final venue—the Athens Olympic Stadium in Greece.
Pressure can break a man.
Pressure can also make a man.
Suker didn't know how Kaká had overcome the pressure alone to lead the team to the Champions League.
But it must have been incredibly tough, considering Suker's own experience now.
Fortunately, this season Kaká had Suker's help, so he wasn't so exhausted.
But the pressure shifted onto Suker.
Milan's offensive core!
Milan's star striker!
San Siro's favorite!
Suker walked slowly through the light rain toward the penalty spot, placing the ball down.
He stood tall, the roar of tens of thousands of Milan fans ringing in his ears.
Outside the stadium, even more Milan fans watched through their TVs.
Milan fans all over the world were watching.
At this moment, Suker was the center of attention worldwide, carrying the weight of countless expectations—perhaps this was what it meant to bear a heavy burden.
Suker's expression was calm, his eyes locked on Van der Sar.
The stare made Van der Sar uneasy.
'Is this guy crazy?'
Which penalty taker stares the goalkeeper down like that?
Beep!
The whistle sounded.
Suker started his run-up.
Van der Sar panicked and dived to his left.
This was Suker's most frequent spot for penalties, but he saw Suker shoot straight down the middle.
He also noticed Suker's mouth curled into a slight smile as if saying,
'I know you're not stupid enough to just stand there!'