"Ten minutes after Julien came on, he's only touched the ball twice, both times disrupted by Clermont's Brazilian defender Moreira."
The TV commentator had expected Julien to perform well after coming on, but clearly this young man had no opportunities under Moreira's almost embracing defensive style.
Julien lost almost every physical battle against Moreira.
In the stands, Hadzibegic shook his head repeatedly. He knew Julien couldn't play center forward—he needed space, he needed someone to create distractions for him.
He couldn't do the back-to-goal work.
But Hadzibegic knew Bastia had no choice but to play Julien in an uncomfortable position.
"I just hope this doesn't crush the kid's confidence," Hadzibegic was somewhat worried. If Julien had another mental breakdown and gave up because of this match, he would definitely be fired by Châtaigner.
Bastia fans, seeing their team make two substitutions with no improvement, were equally anxious.
Their confidence in Julien was slowly fading.
Meanwhile, the Gamblers watching the broadcast were delighted in their live stream, with comments flying.
"Good, good, good! Last match Bastia made me lose big, almost jumped off a building. This time Clermont is finally going to help me recover! Without saying more, I'm doubling down!"
"Bastia is clearly going to defend now. They've substituted all their forwards, leaving only Julien. Though this kid is decent height, with that small frame, how can he play center forward? This money is earned!"
"Damn, after the last match I studied this Julien carefully. His story is quite dramatic—he joined Chelsea three years ago, was even in Chelsea's first team squad over a year ago. Though he didn't play, his ability is definitely there. But guess what? This guy actually went to rob someone and was imprisoned! He almost disappeared completely, but somehow came back to play at Bastia."
"Damn, if he doesn't score or assist in this match, given his experience, I won't criticize him for life! I will even become his fan!"
Montpelier Stadium.
Over ten thousand fans cheered wildly—playing eleven against ten, the advantage was completely theirs.
After another failed physical battle with Moreira, Julien got up and spat out grass that had gotten on his lips.
Moreira's successful challenge drove the home crowd wild again.
They chanted in unison.
"Islanders!"
"Islanders!!"
This term was derogatory toward Bastia.
Though Bastia had only about a hundred fans, they still bravely hurled curses at the nearest home stand.
This infuriated the opposition, who threw a smoke bomb at the Bastia away section.
Instantly, smoke filled the air.
This enraged the Bastia fans. Those close to the barrier wanted to climb over and fight these bastards.
Their ancestor was Napoleon who came from Corsica—they had plenty of backbone. If words weren't enough, fighting would do.
Even though Napoleon was from Ajaccio, not Bastia, they were all from the same island—internally enemies, but united against outsiders!
However, the Bastia fans were quickly restrained by security.
The Clermont fans were also controlled by security.
The area around the away section was chaotic. The chaos in the stands gradually affected the field.
During his defense of Julien, Moreira deliberately collided with him, escaping the referee's punishment.
Julien retaliated by using the cover of backing up to watch the ball to stomp hard on Moreira's toes with his heel.
"Ahh!!"
Moreira screamed and fell to the ground, clutching his foot and frantically hitting the ground.
Julien looked innocently at the referee and shrugged.
Then he bent down to check on Moreira's condition. Knowing the opponent was Brazilian and had just transferred to Clermont from Hungarian league team Budapest Honved this summer, he probably didn't understand French.
So, he covered his mouth and delivered a series of beautiful French curses, with an apologetic expression on his face.
The commentator, seeing this scene, said. "Although there's been some conflict in the stands, the players on the field are still very friendly. The slow-motion replay shows Julien accidentally stepped on Moreira, and now he's kindly checking on his opponent."
When Moreira's center-back partner Saze came over and heard Julien's words, his expression immediately changed.
He pushed Julien away with one hand.
"Ah!"
Saze's push happened to catch Julien's face, and Julien immediately covered his face and fell to the ground.
The referee Auguste hadn't seen clearly how Moreira fell, but he saw Saze's push clearly.
Tweet!!
He quickly blew the whistle and immediately showed a yellow card.
He had already seen Bastia players rushing over—if he didn't control this, there would be another big conflict.
Seeing his goal achieved, Julien adjusted his socks slightly and got up to continue the game.
With the opponents playing dirty, being honest would only lead to endless suffering.
Captain Roten roughly understood the situation. He patted Julien and asked with concern. "Kid, be careful."
This was just a small incident.
The game continued.
Bastia's situation seemed unchanged.
But Julien had targeted Saze.
With Yellow card on his back, Saze was the best breakthrough target.
Especially after this incident, Clermont's players were obviously getting heated and determined to attack aggressively.
Physical contact between both sides increased.
Referee Auguste's sweat was dripping densely—whether from exhaustion or nervousness was unclear.
The ball spent most of its time in Bastia's half.
The game time had reached 63 minutes.
The commentator said again. "Bastia has absolutely no attacking opportunities. If they can hold the current score, it would be quite remarkable."
Clermont's players clearly couldn't accept the current score.
They launched a fierce attack.
At the 65th minute, Dembélé unleashed a powerful shot from outside the penalty area.
A defending player in the box blocked it but didn't completely stop it—his thigh deflected it, changing the ball's trajectory.
Bastia goalkeeper Novis panicked.
When he desperately dove to make the save...
Clang!
The post saved him.
The ball bounced out, and Roten, who had tracked back, got to the second ball.
He glanced at Julien's position.
Direct long ball.
The ball flew quickly toward Julien's position.
Julien kept looking up at the ball, judging its landing spot in his mind. The afternoon sun was a bit blinding.
He deliberately moved toward a position slightly behind the landing spot, having figured out Moreira's habit of following the man, not the ball.
So, he gave himself some room.
Sure enough. When Julien retreated, Moreira followed.
When the ball came down, Julien suddenly took a few steps forward and smoothly controlled the ball.
Julien's foot was like a magnet, sticking the ball to the sole of his boot.
Whoosh!
Even Clermont fans, who weren't without appreciation, gasped in amazement.
A Ligue 2 player with this kind of touch?
But before they could marvel, Moreira realized he'd been fooled, quickly planted his feet, and caught up in a few steps.
He wanted to use his body on Julien again.
But when he had already given Julien space, he was already out of position.
Julien felt Moreira's pursuit from behind.
He received the ball and turned, dropped his shoulder to the right, stepped as if preparing to surge forward. Moreira hurriedly stepped up to block Julien's path.
Just as his center of gravity shifted, Julien quickly pulled the ball back with his right foot, nudged it forward with his left, and burst toward the left side.
Julien's speed wasn't particularly fast.
But Moreira's center of gravity was disrupted. Adjusting his position and turning took two seconds.
When he turned around, Julien had already sprinted several steps ahead.
Completely opening up the distance!
"Julien! What a beautiful piece of skill! This is his signature move—the shoulder drop and change of direction, so inspired! Hard to imagine a player of this height having such delicate dribbling skills. What kind of touch must he have to support this technique?"
As the commentator marveled, only Saze remained in front of Julien to defend.
Everyone on Bastia's bench had stood up, craning their necks to watch Julien.
Even the Bastia fans in the stands, who had been trading insults with the home crowd, now focused all their attention on Julien.
"Julien!"
One fan shouted Julien's name, and more followed.
"Julien!!"
Everyone had one thought. So, what if there's no opportunity? Beat your player, and opportunity will come!