After the domestic football scene—and even the wider sports community—reached a rare consensus, the education sector suddenly turned its criticism toward Ryan Zhang.
They argued his actions lacked self-reflection.
"Foreign things are always better than domestic ones."
"Pure foreigners are superior to overseas Chinese."
"So how could Su Hang possibly be better than European players?"
Reflect!
Deeply reflect!
Then came the usual slogans—
"Learn from Japan's craftsmanship spirit!"
"Study Germany's plumbing precision!"
"Embrace America's happy education model!"
"All of these are the essence of humanity!"
"Not learning from them means you're not a true patriot!"
Before long, the argument over what was "foreign" or "domestic" ignited a nationwide debate.
Public intellectuals and football commentators clashed fiercely.
Rational voices and passionate fans hurled insults at each other across forums.
What began as a football discussion about clubs had somehow escalated into a question about the nation's future direction.
...
Meanwhile, Argentina chose a much more straightforward route.
They filed a formal complaint with FIFA, accusing Su Hang of "provoking" fans and demanding that he be suspended.
Now that's what you call tactics.
Such a move—what a gift for Germany, Spain's next opponent!
The German media quickly joined the ambiguity, writing:
"If Su Hang's final goal celebration was indeed intended to provoke fans, then suspension would be justified."
However, The London Globe soon produced the smoking gun.
That lone splash of red among Argentina's sea of blue and white—Ryan Zhang—combined with Su Hang's post-match interview, provided all the evidence needed to prove his innocence.
Argentina's complaint was rejected.
In a twist, Spain countered with their own official complaint, demanding that FIFA hold Argentina accountable for the unsportsmanlike behavior of its fans—specifically the seat invasion incident.
They requested a formal apology to football fans worldwide.
What followed was a complete farce.
But no one expected that Ryan Zhang, though not scheduled for commentary duties that day, had developed a personal habit of documenting everything.
One of the two women accompanying him had filmed the entire altercation on a handheld camcorder.
Ryan uploaded the footage online.
Later, it was shared across European media circles by freelance journalist Tommy Smyth, who was collaborating with The London Globe.
The video captured Argentine fans explicitly hurling racist insults toward Asian supporters.
Though it was verbal abuse, under FIFA's rules, that constituted clear racial discrimination.
FIFA might overlook such things under normal circumstances—but during the World Cup? They had to act.
At the very least, they needed to look like they were acting.
That same evening, FIFA formally notified Argentina, demanding three specific players issue a public apology video:
team captain Juan Pablo Sorín, top-rated player Juan Román Riquelme, and the highest-rated substitute, Lionel Messi.
Refusing the order would expose Argentina to multiple disciplinary sanctions.
So, the next day, the three players appeared on camera, each solemnly apologizing to football fans around the world.
For the players, it was pure misfortune—they hadn't done anything wrong.
But when representing a nation, every individual affects the country's image.
And so, every individual shares responsibility for repairing that image.
The incident was a major slap in the face for all the so-called "keyboard philosophers" back home.
"Reflect? On what, exactly?"
"The foreigners already apologized!"
"Isn't it obvious who was in the wrong?"
"Still feel like bowing down to your foreign idols?"
In the end, you could almost say this whole mess did some good—
so, thanks for the unintended cleanup, rumor brigade.
Rumor brigade: furious trembling noises!
After this episode, the wave of obsessive "self-reflection" lost much of its momentum.
However, those same critics—and the interests backing them—now viewed domestic football as their next target.
Thus was born a petty campaign known as "Undermine Domestic Football Morale."
Their main tactic? Spreading rumors online to stir chaos and undermine public confidence in Chinese football.
But they didn't count on one thing—
the Football Association absolutely hates being falsely accused!
Ironically, over the following decade, domestic football declined so rapidly that many of those early "rumors" eventually became true.
Their smear campaign accidentally helped expose real corruption.
Match-fixing scandals, fake leagues, and parasites in the system were rooted out one after another.
It didn't save the sport completely—but it was still far better than doing nothing.
...
Of course, those were just internal squabbles.
Internationally, World Cup drama still dominated the headlines.
With Spain's dominant win over Argentina, the quarterfinal bracket was set.
The upcoming fixtures were locked in.
June 30th — Italy vs. Ukraine.
Shevchenko, already bruised from facing Spain, endured another heavy defeat—this time at Italy's hands.
Next came the highly anticipated showdown: England vs. Portugal.
In the 52nd minute, Beckham limped off injured.
But that wasn't the defining moment. The true flashpoint came in the 62nd minute—when Rooney stomped on Carvalho.
His Manchester United teammate Cristiano Ronaldo immediately rushed toward the referee, demanding a red card.
Rooney glared at Ronaldo in fury, shoving him away, as tempers flared across the pitch.
Moments later, the referee indeed produced the red card.
Despite holding the advantage, Portugal couldn't find a goal, and the game went to penalties.
With Ronaldo's confident strike sealing the final kick, Portugal triumphed 3–1.
After the match, Ronaldo's now-infamous wink sparked outrage among English fans.
Thousands threatened Manchester United—calling for Ronaldo to be sold or benched indefinitely.
Later, it was revealed that a teammate on the bench had simply signaled Ronaldo to calm down, and the wink was his brief reply.
But by then, the damage was done.
The story had been twisted, exaggerated, and weaponized by those looking for clicks—or for opportunity.
At least one man saw it as exactly that: Real Madrid president Ramón Calderón.
He was eager to exploit the moment to lure Ronaldo away from Manchester United.
Unfortunately for him, Ronaldo's agent, Jorge Mendes, didn't think the timing was right.
Because Real Madrid already had Su Hang.
Their styles were very different, but Mendes knew Ronaldo's personality better than anyone.
He was a born competitor—someone who had to be the best, not just among his peers, but among everyone.
His environment determined how high he could climb.
Back in 2004, Rooney had ranked far higher than Ronaldo in the Ballon d'Or voting.
But once both joined Manchester United, Rooney never claimed the position of undisputed offensive core.
Sir Alex Ferguson instead gradually handed that power to Ronaldo.
That, of course, was also the root of the friction between Van Nistelrooy and Ronaldo.
...
(35 Chapters Ahead)
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