0006: The Viral Team Thirty Years Ahead (Please Support with Bookmarks and Monthly Votes)

On the way back, the whole team was quite excited. A comeback and a derby match—those are undoubtedly the most thrilling moments in football. And if there’s anything even more exhilarating, it’s overturning a derby opponent in the Champions League!

As the second youngest team in Serie C2, the average age of the Regina squad was just over 23 years. There wasn’t a single player born before the 1950s on the team. In this era of rapidly advancing electronics and entertainment, young people brimmed with astonishing vitality. Even after a grueling match, when they returned to Rome, the entire team celebrated heartily.

The captain insisted on treating everyone, but no one went overboard. Nowadays, even players in Serie A don't earn exorbitant sums; in a city like Rome, if the whole team tried to take advantage, he’d probably have to sell a couple of kidneys to cover it.

Giovanni Capasso fiddled with his pager throughout the meal, as if his backside was nailed to the chair.

“He’s getting married,” a teammate teased.

Lu Deyang was speechless. This guy was only a year older than him. Marrying at nineteen? That’s like seeing the end of life from the start.

“Kid, why the eye roll?” Bagnato nudged Lu Deyang with his elbow. “You shouldn’t be turning down Riva’s offer today.”

“What’s the point of going to Cagliari? Next season, we get promoted, and so do they. If I switch to a new team but still play in Serie B, wouldn’t that be a waste of a transfer?” Lu Deyang complained.

He had planned to find a new club in the summer, but Serie B was not his goal. At worst, he’d consider playing in England.

Due to the Heysel disaster, English clubs had been banned from European competitions for five years and were still under suspension. Their tactics had become outdated.

Italian players looked down on English football at the time, and Serie A certainly earned that respect. Just pull any top Italian team from that era—there would be one or two players at the level of Roberto Baggio or just a notch below. The so-called "Seven Sisters" had almost entire lineups of national team stars—far more impressive than the later "Big Four."

By the time Lu Deyang got home, it was already past midnight. Fortunately, they could rest the next day.

One advantage of being a Serie C player was enjoying weekends off. Matches usually took place on Saturdays or Fridays.

By 7 a.m. the next morning, the pager wouldn’t stop buzzing. Seeing it was Old Bianchi, Lu Deyang had no choice but to get up and freshen up.

Damn it, he always thought modern communication devices were the greatest hindrance to societal progress. Then there were idiots sending messages on work apps in the middle of the night—read without replying. Such nonsense didn’t exist in the landline era.

After ten minutes of tidying up, Lu Deyang revved up his ride, drawing glances from a neighbor’s wife.

“Good morning, Alessandro.”

He greeted Old Bianchi’s youngest son as he entered.

“Morning, Deyang,” Alessandro said, pointing to the courtyard. “Dad’s waiting for you there. Probably not for anything good.”

Lu Deyang smiled and waved off the concern, heading to the backyard.

“Deyang, you’re here,” Bianchi De Rosso greeted him, motioning for him to sit.

“Uncle Bianchi,” Lu Deyang replied.

“The team’s doing well now,” De Rosso began. “Promotion should be no problem. I spoke with the coach and noticed you played very well yesterday.”

“Yes, I’ve recently found my way to play,” Lu Deyang nodded.

“But now I have some trouble,” De Rosso said, holding his teacup. “If we get promoted, our facilities won’t meet the standards. You know Regina has been in Serie C for many years, and the equipment is worn out…”

Lu Deyang’s heart skipped a beat hearing this. Usually, when someone starts complaining about poverty, it’s never good news.

“Uncle Bianchi, what exactly do you mean?” he asked.

“I just wanted to tell you so you’re prepared,” De Rosso put down his cup. “Regina is a local team. I don’t want to give it up, but I don’t have spare cash to invest right now. I’m looking for someone to inject capital to help the club through this rough patch.”

Lu Deyang roughly understood what Bianchi De Rosso meant.

He was mainly worried about complications in the summer that might prevent the team from getting promoted and affect him.

He had thought Old Bianchi might borrow money, but it turned out not to be the case. This uncle’s friend seemed reliable enough—to give him a heads-up.

Though Lu Deyang himself wouldn’t need it—he was planning to change clubs in the summer.

Old Bianchi was reluctant to give up control of his hometown team, yet unwilling to invest real money. That was his biggest problem.

If there was one thing Lu Deyang didn’t believe, it was that Old Bianchi lacked funds.

The key was that investing in a Serie B team wasn’t very profitable.

Investing in Serie B was far more costly than Serie C. To aim for Serie A, both team facilities and players required significant funds, and even then, promotion wasn’t guaranteed.

Old Bianchi mainly feared the sunk cost.

He worried the team might fail to promote but still wanted to inform Lu Deyang, hoping the latter would support him.

After some thought, Lu Deyang said, “Uncle Bianchi, maybe we can try a different approach?”

“What do you mean?” De Rosso asked, puzzled.

“Promote the team!” Lu Deyang said excitedly. “Have journalists you know write stories about the players in the newspapers. Like, ‘So-and-so was a small-time thug who turned his life around through hard training and is showing great improvement lately’; or ‘So-and-so’s grandfather, on his deathbed, urged him to pursue football—despite only playing in Serie C now, he trains hard every day.’ Then add something like the Fendi Six Sisters admiring a player’s fashion sense and hoping to sponsor Regina; or a famous director taking notice of a player and inviting him to Hollywood…”

Bianchi De Rosso’s eyes lit up.

He was indeed worried about putting money in with no return.

But Lu Deyang gave him a new idea.

As long as the team’s story gained attention and fame, even if no big sponsors or investors came forward, his investment would still attract visibility.

A hometown-loving image would be very beneficial to him.

His greatest worry was that he was related to a Calabrian mafia boss.

His mindset was similar to that of many politicians—call on his cousin to settle things when needed, but otherwise, he wished their DNA had no connection at all, fearing that if his cousin went down, he’d be dragged along.

Although Calabrians adhered to a code of silence in prison, as a seasoned businessman, he knew better than to trust human nature.

Now a new path lay before him.

While building the team’s reputation, he could subtly highlight his quiet contributions. Then, at the right moment, he’d negotiate with his cousin—offering to care for his family in case something happened as a bargaining chip. Even if the counterfeit olive oil scandal was exposed, Bianchi De Rosso would be seen as one of the victims.

And maybe he could use others’ money to manage his own reputation. He wasn’t the only wealthy man in Calabria!

If other businessmen knew the club was struggling and were willing to invest, the reputation would still be his.

Just thinking about it made Old Bianchi excited.

This plan was highly feasible!