"The fake shot just now was decent, but that left-footed pass right after? That shit was insanely difficult. The key is that his right foot hadn't even landed yet, and he was already lifting the ball with his left. That's basically a twisted, straight-leg jump—hard as hell to generate power from—and yet he still pushed the ball perfectly!"
"One–nil! Moreirense with a dream start!"
"Oh! The fans are chanting Ronaldo's name! He refused Flávio's celebration—he didn't celebrate against his parent club!"
Cristiano Ronaldo's reaction earned him respect from the Sporting Lisbon fans. Applause rang out across the stadium.
Yeah, yeah, they thought. Nice gesture. But one Moreirense isn't stopping us.
And sure enough…
Even though Jardel was being tightly marked, Sporting Lisbon was far from a one-man team.
9th minute.
Ricardo Quaresma received the ball on the right wing. He and Emerson paused for a brief, almost awkward three seconds—then suddenly, Quaresma flicked the ball with a slick outside-of-the-foot move.
Emerson got completely cooked.
Quaresma cut inside from the right.
Serafim kept backing off, but Quaresma didn't slow down—instead, he suddenly accelerated.
Acceleration while changing direction. Changing direction while accelerating.
That shit was nasty.
Serafim got sent packing, and Quaresma charged straight toward the box.
Fonte had no choice but to step up.
Boom!
Quaresma whipped in a cross.
Jardel rose above Killop and smashed a header into the net.
The Alvalade Stadium exploded.
"QUARESMA!"
"QUARESMA!"
Fans screamed his name.
Quaresma spread his arms, soaking in the cheers like a damn king.
Meanwhile, Jardel frowned slightly.
Wait… wasn't that my goal?
Shouldn't Quaresma be running over to celebrate with him?
Instead, it felt like Quaresma was celebrating his own assist like he scored the damn thing.
No hierarchy? No respect?
These fans only cheer for their own golden boy.
Fucking ridiculous.
Jardel celebrated stiffly near the goal. A few teammates surrounded him, but there was a clear distance between him and Quaresma.
Awkward as hell.
After that, Ronaldo and Quaresma both went into full attack mode.
Coincidentally, they were on the same flank.
Each of them bullied the opposing full-back relentlessly, and neither really bothered tracking back. It was basically mutual chaos—you attack, I attack, let's see who wrecks more shit.
During this stretch, the commentators gave a fair comparison of the two wingers.
Quaresma was, without a doubt, more dazzling.
More chances. More flair. More tricks.
Stepovers, rabonas, flicks—you name it.
Ronaldo, on the other hand, relied mostly on raw speed. His movements were simpler.
You could say he lacked finesse… or that he was clever but not flashy.
But when comparing the two directly, Ronaldo wasn't losing.
Don't forget—he was two years younger than Quaresma.
And Quaresma himself? A freak among freaks.
"This Ronaldo kid actually has what it takes to play in the Portuguese top flight," Materazzi said, clearly surprised.
Portugal had another monster on its hands.
Unfortunately, his style was too straightforward—hard to catch the eye.
Back then, flair was talent.
If you didn't play like a Brazilian, people didn't rate you.
Even Zinedine Zidane was once labeled as "clever but not flashy."
Which, in hindsight, is complete bullshit.
"It doesn't matter if he can play in the Portuguese league now," Maxa said calmly. "What matters is whether he can still play here in the future. If he's still stuck in this league later on, then he's not a real genius."
…Yeah.
That was basically Kai's earlier evaluation of Ronaldo.
Kai had once explained it like this—
Cristiano Ronaldo is the kind of guy who scores 60, and you think, yeah, he's a 60.
Scores 80? You think, yep, that's an 80.
But a genius?
A genius scores 60, and you can see the 100 inside him.
"Right. I almost got carried away," Materazzi nodded. "Being young doesn't mean unlimited potential. Maybe he's already close to his ceiling. Cristiano Ronaldo… might just be a slightly special player in this league."
That conclusion made him feel much better.
At least defensively, it meant they didn't need to panic.
18th minute.
While the wings were in chaos, the midfield battle heated up too.
Kai launched into a flying tackle—looked reckless as hell, but it was actually perfectly timed—cleanly stripping the ball from Hugo Viana.
Two minutes later, Viana got his revenge.
A slick feint sent Kai off balance, followed by a precise through ball.
If Jardel had been just a bit quicker, that would've been an assist.
The two young midfielders were testing each other.
Kai's tackle wasn't just defense—it was a probe.
He wanted to see if Viana was still mentally affected by his recent injury.
Turns out… not at all.
No hesitation. No fear.
Which made him even more dangerous.
On the flip side, while Viana beat Kai with that move, he couldn't pull off two consecutive feints like he used to in youth competitions.
Kai had improved.
Way more stable now.
His defensive growth was obvious.
But what about his offense?
33rd minute.
Cristiano Ronaldo cut inside again and unleashed a long-range shot.
But Peter Schmeichel pulled off an insane save—he didn't just parry it, he caught it clean.
That kind of confidence?
World-class.
Against a keeper like that, ordinary shots were useless.
40th minute.
Thanks to Quaresma pulling defenders on the right, Kwame Ayew got space on the left and delivered a dangerous cross.
Jardel, facing two defenders, still managed to win the header against Killop and Fonte—
But the ball flew over the bar.
Missed.
Still, at this rate, it felt like only a matter of time before he scored.
The two young defenders were barely holding him back.
44th minute.
Moreirense attacked.
At this stage, most teams drop back to avoid conceding right before halftime.
At the same time, they bait the opponent forward—setting up a potential counterattack.
That's why the final minutes of each half are always chaotic—and dangerous.
Kai had the ball in midfield.
No one stepped up to press him.
And he wasn't about to force an attack just for the sake of it.
"Oh! Kai spins the ball—this is his signature move! The gyro spin! Some even call it the compass spin!"
"One turn… two turns… three turns…"
The crowd actually started cheering.
Didn't expect that.
And honestly?
That kind of reaction was embarrassing for Sporting Lisbon.
Letting an opponent show off like this in your own stadium?
If word got out, where the hell would your pride as a top club go?
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