Gao Shen never expected any special treatment from the referee. In fact, it was almost impossible for Napoli to gain su advantage.

  Given Napoli's status in European football, they could barely influence referees in Serie A, let alohe Champions League. All Gao Shen cared about was ensuring Napoli wouldn't be disadvantaged.

  Collina's message had been clear: he trusted Howard Webb, the appointed referee. Webb had years of Premier League experience, a league known for its le approach to physical frontations. That suggested the Englishman would allow more tact than usual.

  Of course, Napoli would have to figure out the exact limits themselves.

  Webb would only let things go within reason. If their challenges crossed the line, cards would e ardless. But even a slight shift toward more physical freedom was good news for Napoli.

  Against Bara, especially when dealing with Messi and Ia, hesitation would be fatal.

  After Colli, Gao Shen immediately vened a coag meeting.

  His staff had a unique advantage: most came from La Liga, so they were well-versed in Spanish teams' tactid how they maniputed referees. And after three years in Serie A, they'd also mastered the art of Italian defensive discipline.

  Collina's subtle hint told them plenty.

  "At kickoff, let Biglia, Rakitic, Thiago Motta, or Bonucci test the waters," Zidane suggested.

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  David Luiz, though talented, was too impulsive. A reckless early foul might earn him a quick booking, shag him for the rest of the match. Bonucci, however, was a Serie A product—cautious, clever, and adept at dang on the edge of a foul without drawing cards.

  "Tell the pyers to be cautious, especially with Messi. The cage o be tight," Gao Shen instructed.

  Zidane and Carlo nodded.

  This wasn't cheating. Far from it.

  Every top team analyzed referees' tendencies and exploited the rules to their advantage. Football, like war, was about leveraging every permissible edge to defeat the oppo.

  Somewhere across the city, Vilr robably feeding simir insights to Bara's camp.

  Napoli even received official notice from UEFA earlier: Bara had requested that the pitch be watered before the match, g dryness.

  Dryness?

  Forecasts predicted a temperature of 23°C with 71% humidity, hardly dry ditions. The real reason was obvious. Watering the pitch would speed up the ball's movement, aiding Bar?a's passing game.

  Too much water, however, might cause mistakes.

  Mourinho had once poured sand onto Stamford Bridge's surface to slow down oppos. The principle was the same: manipute ditions within the rules.

  ---

  The Champions League final wasn't just a football event, it was a mag for political and business elites.

  Rome's Stadio Olimpico that night acked with dignitaries from Italy, Spain, and across the European Union.

  Italian President Giio Napolitano, a Naples native and lifelong Napoli fan, resent. So rime Minister Silvio Berlusi, who also happeo own A. Ministers, senators, and other officials crowded the VIP se.

  Spain's King Juan Carlos and Prime Minister José Luis Ruez Zapatero were there to support Bara. UEFA President Michel Ptini, fnked by his executive ittee, observed from a prime seat.

  In total, more than 62,000 spectators filled the stands.

  Each club had received just over 20,000 tickets, with the rest distributed to sponsors and officials. The local advantage gave Napoli slightly more supporters in the crowd but not enough to make a decisive difference.

  ---

  As the pyers pleted their warm-ups and headed back to the dressing rooms, a brief but spectacur pre-match ceremony unfolded.

  The show was drenched in Roman iography: actors dressed as gods from a mythology paraded across the pitch to the s strains of Now We Are Free from Gdiator.

  The climax came when golden-cd models marched in with the Champions League trophy.

  The sight of the famous Big-Eared Cup sent the stadium into a frenzy.

  The battle hadn't even started, yet the iy crag through the ade it feel like it was already underway.

  Every fan iadio Olimpico was swept up in the electric atmosphere, their collective passioing a wall of sound that reverberated through the stadium.

  Football had that kind of magic, it could ignite hearts a away logic.

  ---

  "We're ready," Gao Shen announced.

  In the Napoli dressing room, his pyers sat on the edge of their seats like soldiers awaiting the call to battle.

  If Napoli was to win tonight, it would be because these men gave everything och.

  "I just want to emphasize a few more points," Gao Shen tinued.

  Zidaepped forward and pced the tactical board oand. Gao Shen immediately poio Messi's name, circled in red.

  "Messi will start trally and drop very deep to receive the ball. When that happens, our midfielders o follow him immediately. He's not just their liween midfield and attack; if he picks up momentum with the ball at his feet, it's lethal. We 't let that happen!"

  The pyers all nodded.

  They'd drilled this exact sario over and over.

  "On Bara's right fnk, we'll see Alves ao' together. When Messi drops deep, Eto'o will make diagonal runs into the penalty area from the right half-space. Alves will push up aggressively to exploit the space left behind. We o stay alert—Eto'o's diagonal runs and Alves' overpping runs are key threats."

  Gao Shen's gaze locked on Vargas, Biglia, and Sanchez, who would py as an ied left wionight.

  All three gave quiods.

  "On the opposite side, Puyol will be filling in for Abidal at left-back. Henry will be lurking, and Ia's forward runs are dangerous too. Stay sharp, don't ball-watch, don't lose your man."

  Napoli's tactical pn was clear: absorb pressure, stay disciplined, and break with speed down the wings.

  With Sanchez and Di María both pying as ied wingers, Napoli would target Bara's defensive vulnerabilities.

  Piqué and Yaya Touré would form Bar?a's ter-back duo, a pairing with exploitable weakouré often stepped forward instinctively, leaving space behind, while Piqué's sluggish turning speed made him vulnerable to fast transitions.

  That's where i came in.

  "When we press, we'll set up he halfway line. i, you'll drop back slightly to harass Busquets aouré and Piqué have the ball. Especially Touré."

  Gao Shen paused, his lips curling into a faint smile.

  "If I were Guardio, I'd tell Touré not to adva all. But habits are hard to break, right?"

  He turned his eyes toward David Luiz.

  The room burst into ughter.

  Everyone knew Luiz's adventurous streak. The Brazilian grinned sheepishly, scratg his head as his teammates teased him.

  "If Touré starts dribbling forward, don't hesitate, hit him hard. Be quick, be decisive, and take the ball ly. The moment we recover possession, we ght foal."

  He mimicked a knife-ssh gesture.

  This was Napoli's core philosophy tonight: don't waste energy chasing possession against the masters of tiki-taka. Instead, stay pact, intercept, and unch direct terattacks against Bara's fragile defense.

  Bar?a's bae might excel when pressing high and building py, but when forced to retreat, their weaknesses were id bare.

  Gao Shen was vihat if Napoli could execute the pn, they'd score.

  ---

  Tactically, everything had been covered.

  Now came the emotional spark.

  Gao Shen walked to the ter of the room, and his pyers instinctively stood up, f a circle around him.

  He looked eae in the eye.

  "Listen to me," he said, voice low but firm. "We have a real shot at winning this game. But once we step onto that pitch, anything happen. We might go behind early. We might even cede twi quick succession."

  The pyers shifted uneasily, but no one spoke.

  "If that happens, stay calm. Stay united. Stick to the pn. Trust me."

  "Yes, boss!" came the unified response.

  Gao Shehe silence linger for a moment, then tinued.

  "This will be the hardest game you've ever pyed. Bara is strohan any team we've faced so far, even strohan Maer United."

  He raised his right fist.

  "But you've got something special. You fought through the group of death. You elimihree Premier League giants. And now you're here, Champions League finalists."

  He took a deep breath.

  "No matter what anyone says, we earhis. We deserve this. We are just as good as Bara. Maybe better."

  The pyers' eyes burned with iy.

  "We've overe every obstacle. Tonight is the final step. Stay smart, stay disciplined, and fight for every ball. If we do that, we'll lift that trophy!"

  He ched his fist tighter.

  "For Naples! For yourselves! For history!"

  The team roared as one.