Football: My AI System Provides Max-Level Predictions

The car hit the wall, then you knew to turn;

The stocks rose, then you knew to buy;

Snot ran into your mouth, then you knew to wipe it away. Did you think it was yogurt?

Bartomeu paid the price for his conservatism.

Barça forever lost the chance to have a genius beyond compare.

Inside Inter's locker room.

Despite losing the match, Inter players didn't feel the slightest bit of dejection, instead, they were full of fighting spirit, with confident smiles on their faces.

2 to 4, losing to the recently crowned treble-winning Barça, this score is respectable; there's no shame, this match was worth it.

Tang Long quietly packed his luggage, sitting silently in the corner.

He knew it was time to leave.

Inter players would take the night flight back to Milan, while Tang Long was flying to Manchester.

From then on, they would go their separate ways, and meeting again, they would be rivals.

Tang Long stood up and hugged each of his Inter teammates.

Medel, Little Juan, Andreolli, Dambrosio, Kovacic, Santon, Obi...

Compared to Inter's new recruits, Tang Long embraced these old teammates longer.

The relationship with these players wasn't exceptionally close, just harmonious colleague relations, far from the brotherhood with Bonazzoli, Berni, Ranocchia.

However, at this moment, seeing Tang Long about to leave, never to be affiliated with Inter again, many of the old teammates were quite emotional.

Everyone crowded around, hugging him again and again, and some even took out their phones to take a selfie with Tang Long, offering words of blessing for his future success in the Premier League.

Chile's midfielder Medel, short and stocky, with a fierce look, known as the Chilean Bulldog.

Yet now his nose was red, suggesting a gentle side to his tough exterior. He held Tang Long's hand and said:

"Tang, when you first arrived at Inter, you took my buddy Gualin's spot, so I teamed up with Gualin to pick on you, even tackling you fiercely during training. I always felt sorry and never had the chance to apologize. I'm truly sorry, buddy. If Manchester City meets Inter in the Champions League next season, I'll stand still and let you tackle me; I promise I won't dodge. If I do, I'm your grandchild!"

Tang Long originally thought he was joking, but seeing him grit his teeth, it was clearly genuine emotion, and he instantly felt Medel was a straightforward and sincere person, instinctively gripping his hand tightly, the two men looking at each other.

Perhaps not wanting the parting atmosphere to be so heavy, Tang Long teased him:

"Don't fool me. If I tackle you from behind, won't the referee send me off with a red card? Wishful thinking!"

"But now that Gualin is at Tottenham, when I face him, who knows if he'll tackle me!"

Medel patted his chest, indignantly saying, "Tang, if Gualin dares to mess with you, I'll be the first to disagree. I'll fly to London to teach him a lesson and stand up for you!"

Tang Long couldn't help but sigh, thinking: "After this season, Inter is more united than ever. If they can retain the current lineup, and if Icardi can make peace with Mancini, even if I'm not there, kicking Juventus off the top spot of the league isn't impossible in the upcoming new season."

After saying goodbye to everyone, Tang Long slung his bag over his shoulder and waved as he left the locker room door.

A new journey awaits him.

Just stepping out, he heard a fierce argument in the corridor.

Tang Long focused his eyes and saw that it was the head coach Leno by the window on the phone, shouting non-stop, looking very agitated.

No wonder he wasn't in the locker room.

Tang Long walked over, and from about ten meters away, he could hear Leno's conversation on the phone.

"Mr. Ossilio, you have to understand my difficulties. If we had been hammered 5 or 6 goals by Barça in my first official match leading the team, how could I establish authority? How could I lead the team for the new season, the players wouldn't respect me!"

"I said so many times, ten minutes, I only gave Tang ten minutes! As soon as he was on the field, he changed the game; we scored two goals against Barça!"

"This isn't just about winning or losing. You're skilled at being a sports director, but you've never been a head coach, some things you just don't understand. Sigh, I can't explain it to you!"

Tang Long caught the gist.

Ossilio was blaming Leno for his own substitution.

The substitution decisions are made by the head coach, so Ossilio naturally felt putting him on was Leno's decision.

Tang Long strode over to the window, took the phone from Leno, and said into it:

"Ossilio, this is Tang. I insisted on going on for the last ten minutes, it had nothing to do with Mr. Leno. Don't make things difficult for him. Besides, I'm perfectly healthy, not a hair lost; you needn't worry about my transfer."

"Why did I do it? This was my last match representing Inter. I didn't come to Georgia for a sponsored vacation; I had to be accountable to the fans who support me. That's all."

Under Leno's astonished gaze, Tang Long smiled at him, then turned to leave, giving Leno an OK gesture from behind as he exited Tbilisi's national stadium.

That night, he boarded the private plane the Abu Dhabi Consortium had been waiting with, flying directly to Manchester.

What awaited him was a brand new journey.

...

Icardi was quite upset recently.

Especially after watching the UEFA Super Cup final between Inter and Barça.