Northern France, Pas-de-Calais, Nord department.
The Bastia group arrived in Valenciennes.
As the bus drove toward the hotel, Julien leaned against the window, casually observing this city that had been almost completely destroyed in World War II.
Located in the heart of Europe, bordering several European countries, it had excellent transportation links—which was also why it was completely destroyed in WWII.
Pedestrians on the road would stop and watch when they saw Bastia's bus.
Valenciennes' citizens naturally knew that tomorrow night their home ground would host the French Cup Round of 16 match.
Facing a Ligue 2 opponent, Valenciennes fans were confident.
So as Bastia's bus drove through the streets, some fans gave the bus the middle finger, shouting: "Go home, shorties!"
"Shorty" was a derogatory term that mainland French used for Corsican islanders.
Such shouts drew echoes like:
"Go back to your island and catch fish!"
"Why not just forfeit and go home early?"
Valenciennes had this confidence—their form this season wasn't bad, ranking mid-table in Ligue 1.
Surely, they couldn't lose to a Ligue 2 team?
After losing to Bordeaux in their last Ligue 1 match, Valenciennes fans felt the team urgently needed a soft target to crush.
Conveniently, the French Cup had delivered Ligue 2 team Bastia right to their door.
So, they seemed somewhat unrestrained.
Bastia's players ignored it all—they were used to it.
That evening, outside the hotel where Bastia was staying, the players could always hear strange sounds.
Lying in bed, Julien listened to these sounds, finding them unsurprising. These were local fans trying to disrupt Bastia players' rest.
The bizarre things French fans could do probably only matched of English football hooligans.
The next day, after breakfast, Bastia players did running warm-ups on the hotel rooftop under the assistant coach's guidance.
Big teams would rent training facilities when playing away, but Bastia obviously lacked such resources, so they made do on the rooftop.
Julien felt the morning breeze from the Scheldt River, which calmed his mind somewhat.
He actually hadn't rested well last night.
Not only due to local fans' harassment, but also the complex emotions about his debut—anticipation, nervousness, and various fantasies of moments when thousands of fans' arms would wave before him, thousands of cheers would be for him alone. Countless streams of consciousness converged, making him sleep late.
Fortunately, his young body recovered quickly, so it wouldn't affect today's match.
But those feelings still couldn't be calmed.
The river breeze only provided slight comfort.
After simple training ended, Châtaigner noticed Julien's heavy thoughts and approached him alone. "Did you sleep well last night? How do you feel today?"
"Alright."
Châtaigner smiled, "That's good. Don't put too much pressure on yourself for tonight's match. I know your ability—just play normally and there won't be any problems. Relax. Winning or losing isn't that important for us. Just focus on yourself."
Julien smiled somewhat bitterly, "I understand the logic, but when I really knew I'd be playing in the French Cup, I still couldn't stay calm."
How could he possibly stay calm?
In his previous life, he was just a fan. Watching games and playing them were completely different mindsets.
The match against Ajaccio U19 seemed more like a training match to him—they were all just kids.
But now, when he was about to truly face a top-tier league team, countless thoughts surged through his mind.
Châtaigner sat beside him, patting his shoulder. "I understand this feeling. Although I've forgotten my emotions for my first club appearance, I'll never forget the feeling of my first national team appearance—anticipation, worry, nervousness, fear, all mixed together, keeping me up all night."
"But someone told me something that I'd like to share with you. It might help."
"That person was Zinedine Zidane. At the time, he was just a newcomer who had recently joined the national team, but his eyes shone with confident light. I could see he wasn't timid—he was anticipating."
"It was a friendly match against Belgium. Zinedine saw my predicament. In a situation like this, after pre-match training ended, we chatted. I asked him if he wasn't nervous or scared. He told me. 'The match won't get better because of your fear—it will only get worse, and it will make your opponents celebrate. Do you want to see your opponents gloating after the match?' Relax. You're still young. You'll need to experience these things eventually."
Châtaigner saw Hadzibegić beckoning him over.
He patted Julien's shoulder again without saying more and got up to leave.
Julien turned to watch Châtaigner and Hadzibegić's retreating figures, taking a deep breath.
When an important day is about to arrive, the half-day before it becomes the most difficult time to endure.
But time is fair.
At six in the evening, the entire Bastia team assembled and headed to Nungesser Stadium.
By then, tens of thousands of Valenciennes fans had already gathered around the stadium.
A team's fan base often correlates with their performance.
This season's Valenciennes made local fans feel they were worth watching live.
The twenty-thousand-plus capacity Nungesser Stadium had sold out well before the match.
When Bastia's bus entered the stadium parking lot, surrounding Valenciennes fans erupted in boos.
The fans didn't think Bastia had any chance of taking victory from here, including the broadcast commentators.
"Although Bastia currently sits second in Ligue 2 and has a good chance of returning to Ligue 1 next season, Valenciennes' form has been very stable this season.
They've consecutively beaten Montpellier and Lyon in the league, and drawn with strong teams like Lille, Marseille, and Rennes. Their strength shouldn't be underestimated.
On the contrary, while Bastia has good results in Ligue 2, their victories have been relatively hard-fought, and from the starting lineup given, Bastia isn't fielding their full-strength team."
Nungesser Stadium.
During warm-ups, Julien didn't feel much, but when the match began and tens of thousands of fans' cheers exploded in his ears, his mood was inevitably affected.
Especially since they were the trailing side.
"Beautiful goal! Qadir! Powerful shot into the net! He's been Valenciennes' midfield backbone this season!"
"2-0! Danič's run completely bypassed Bastia's defensive block! It's broken! Even with a 5-4-1 defensive formation, Bastia still couldn't withstand Valenciennes' attack!"
"They have no chance now!"
Tweet!!
The halftime whistle sounded.
Over twenty thousand fans at Nungesser Stadium cheered in unison, their roar sweeping the entire stadium. Bastia's players felt like lonely boats in ocean waves.
Julien followed his teammates into the player tunnel.
Beside his ears were the taunts from fans on both sides of the tunnel exit. "Go home, shorties!"
"We'll score three more in the second half! Four more!"
Julien silently walked into the tunnel.
The sound diminished. But the voice in his heart grew louder.
He stopped, turned to look back. The circle of light at the tunnel entrance absorbed countless sounds—mockery, ridicule, cheers, celebration, all mixed together.
He turned and walked toward the locker room with his head down.
His heart calmed down.
Zidane's words seemed to echo in his mind. "The match won't get better because of your fear—it will only get worse, and it will make your opponents celebrate. Do you want to see your opponents gloating after the match?"
'Do I want that?'
Julien asked himself repeatedly, and his heart had only one answer:
'Of course not!'