THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME

Wednesday, May 20th, 2015.

Olimpico di Roma, Italy

The sunset was glorious, all rosy and salmon-pink. Its golden rays shone relentlessly on the countless football fans slowly making their way into the gates of the renowned Olimpico di Roma. Nonetheless, most of them didn't mind the discomfort as all they could think about was the Coppa Italia finals between Juventus and Lazio commencing in about two hours.

Paolo Favero, a staunch Juventus supporter, was already wearing his stripped black and white jersey as he waited to enter the stadium with his family. He looked at the boisterous scenes around him with eyes gleaming with excitement. His hopes had already soared as he glanced at all the other fans in Juventus colors who were also waiting to pass through security and enter the match venue.

The last time Juventus won the Coppa Italia was all the way back in 1995. Twenty years had passed since then, and the club had added plenty of silverware to their trophy collection in Turin. But they were still facing a drought for the Coppa Italia title. It was as if someone had cursed them never to win that domestic competition, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't accomplish Copa Italia glory.

"This time, for sure," Paolo Favero thought. "We must defeat Lazio and take home this trophy. With the form we're in, no one can stop us."

"Dad! Enemy spotted in the vicinity." One of his two boys suddenly yelled and pointed to a fan in Lazio's blue shirt who happened to wander into the Juventus crowd.

The boy was not the only one looking at the overconfident Lazio fan. All the other Juventus supporters around the place had started eyeing him as if he was an enemy who had killed their entire family. There were even those who were more undisciplined and booed the fan directly.

"Danilo, dear!" Paolo Favero's wife called out to her son. "Can you not go around calling people enemies? He's not an enemy. He's just a supporter of an opposing team, here to enjoy the game like you."

"No, he is an enemy," Paolo Favero emphasized while eyeing the Lazio fan sharply. "But boys, you don't need to worry about him. We'll defeat him on the pitch when the match commences."

He could often compromise and agree with his wife on other matters. But not on an issue as sensitive as this. God forbid! But what if she misguided his two sons and influenced them to support some other team? He felt he must make matters regarding Juventus clear to his two boys.

"Look at you misguiding the kids," his wife complained. "First, you allowed them to leave home on a school night. Now, you're pointing out imaginary enemies to them."

"Dear, we already talked about this," he said. "We agreed that they would watch the finals before returning their focus to their homework..."

It was at that time that some other commotion arose around the place. Thinking of a 'certain' possibility, Paolo Favero discarded all he was about to say. He whipped his head around and immediately saw Juventus' bus slowly snaking through the crowd of supporters, who had already gone bonkers with boundless excitement.

"Juve, Oye..."

"Zachary, Oye..."

"Buffon, Oye..."

The fans shouted again and again as the bus slowly approached the gates. The whole place turned more boisterous and superheated. The excitement had descended with the arrival of team Juventus.

Zachary watched all the enthusiastic fans through the bus window. Although he had already experienced the Italian football culture countless times, he still couldn't get used to how supercharged the football fans could be, especially before and after games.

To them, it was as if a football match was something to die for or probably a religion. They would always be in hyper states whenever it was a match day. They would always go far and beyond to support their respective teams. It was even more so on that day of the Coppa Italia final.

The intensity of the cheers increased a notch as the bus halted in a designated area before the stadium. The fans grew even wilder and yelled the names of the Juventus players who were alighting from the bus.

As usual, Zachary was among the last to exit the vehicle. He maintained a professional smile and waved to the excited fans. He then followed after his teammates and quickly entered the tunnel, eager to play the Coppa Italia final.

He had already done all his preparations and even enjoyed a peaceful rest the previous night. He felt refreshed and energetic. He felt like he was in his best state, and all that remained was to step onto the pitch and destroy the opponents. He had to do his best to put up an incredible performance so he could secure the random-effect elixir from the system.

Proceedings moved fast from there on. The Juventus players arrived in the dressing room and quickly donned their gear. Then, they underwent their dynamic pre-match warm-up in front of the tens of thousands of fans already in the stadium before returning to the dressing room to prepare for the game.

In the meantime, Coach Max Allegri was studying the opponent's line-up. He was in a deep state of concentration as he looked at the names on the chart while considering how his tactics could come into play against Lazio.

Stefano Pioli, the Lazio coach, had gone with a 3-4-2-1 formation for the final. It was a balanced set-up with a lot of central focus. It had a strong core, with most of the players occupying the middle areas of the field.

It was also a defensively sound formation, with two defensive midfielders, two attacking wingbacks, and a duo of creative attacking midfielders all attacking as one and falling back to support the three defenders whenever necessary. It was definitely an annoying structure for opponents with a strong midfield.

"This sly bastard..."

Coach Allegri immediately read the intent behind Stefano Pioli's set-up. The Lazio coach probably planned to concentrate his team's efforts in the middle areas to mitigate the threat of Juventus' midfield of Zachary, Claudio Marchisio, and Vidal. The man intended to crowd the middle and use superior numbers to balance out Juventus' brilliance in those zones.

But could the strategy work? Coach Max Allegri laughed. As an experienced football tactician, he had already predicted such a set-up while designing the gameplan for the final. As long as his players, like Zachary Bemba, Patrice Evra, Carlos Tevez, and Stephan Lichtsteiner, fulfilled their responsibilities, he was confident that he would repeatedly break through the opponent's set-up and eventually win the game.

Feeling confident, he placed the opponent's line-up to the side and took center stage in the dressing room. He smiled when he saw that all his players had finished donning their match gear. Then, he glanced at his watch and noted that only ten minutes remained until the kick-off before quickly tackling the crucial business of addressing his players.

"Listen, guys," he said. "We've already trained enough for the past few days. So, I won't waste time discussing tactics at this last minute. But all I'm asking is that you head into the final with the attitude of champions. I want to see you working hard on the pitch."

"I want to see you playing brilliant team football that doesn't include stupid mistakes while on the ball. I want to see you dominate the game from the get-go and quickly destroy the opponent. I want to see you frustrating the opponent with quick goals and possession football so they won't develop any hopes of winning the final in their minds."

"Zachary Bemba, Carlos Tevez, and the others with attacking responsibilities!" He swept his gaze across the players in question.

"Yes, coach," they replied.

"I want to see your magic on the pitch from the very first minute. I want to see you try to break them down with an attack during the opening few minutes before they can settle into the game. If possible, we must score a goal before they can gain any rhythm in this final. Are we together?"

"Coach, we'll try," Zachary replied.

"I'll do my best," Carlos Tevez said.

"Great," The coach nodded and turned towards his three defenders. "Bonucci, Chiellini, and Barzagli! I want to see only neat football at our backline. I want to see you release the ball promptly. I also want to see you clear every danger that comes your way without creating troublesome situations for the team. But I don't want to see us concede a goal from the first minute until the final whistle sounds. Understood?"

"Yes, coach. We'll try our best..." The three defenders replied.

"Good!" The coach glanced at his watch. Only seven minutes were remaining to the start of the game. He smiled and continued, "It's time, and I have probably already said whatever I wanted to say. Just head out there and play as usual. Just head on to the pitch and destroy the opponents. Just go and win us the Coppa Italia. We're Juventus!" He ended his speech with a cheer.

"We're Juventus!" The players yelled back in unison.

Coach Max Allegri smiled. He called a few players, like Zachary, Carlos Tevez, and Arturo Vidal, to the side to emphasize a few points of the game plan. Then, after ensuring they had understood everything, he sent them out of the dressing room along with his other players to the pitch. He had done his job as a coach, and all that remained was for his players to enforce his tactics on the playing field.