"Pass the ball, Chen Xiaozhi, you pig."
Zhang Tao, as the sports committee member, had studied soccer often and mastered several systems.
But he couldn't apply them—knowledge without practice was useless.
"Four to zero."
The PE teacher shook his head helplessly and blew the whistle to end the first half.
The guys from Class 7 of School No. 3 looked disdainful.
This is boring, like playing a game.
Even First Middle School, I think Sixth Middle School would be better.
Step on, belittle, ignore.
Each act stabbing the players' hearts like daggers to their faces.
Zhang Tao just cursed, pointing out who was not good, who was not fighting hard enough, and who was holding onto the ball too long.
The forwards were acting alone, and their skills were poor.
Criticizing mercilessly, this guy must be an undercover.
Tang Feng!
Su Wudong and others greeted him.
"Change your shoes, you're playing in the second half." Rao Weisheng's foot was somewhat injured.
Tang Feng nodded.
