As a sports psychologist raised among data and emotion, I witnessed the quiet revolutions of Bata乙's 12th round—not just scores, but soulful battles where tactics unfolded like poetry. From 0-0 stalemates to 4-0 thrashings, this league revealed how precision, empathy, and biomechanical artistry outshone nationalism. These weren’t matches. They were mirror worlds. And every draw held a question: Who really plays when the clock stops?