Chapter 937: Twain’s England Team
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The stands at Camp Nou were already at full capacity. Because of Spain’s proximity to Portugal, the game brought in a lot of Portuguese fans. They almost turned Barcelona’s stadium into the home stadium of the Portuguese team.
The reporters present were given the England team’s squad list. This list included both the starting lineup and subst.i.tutes Someone saw George Wood’s name on it. They were a little confused – was it not said that Wood had not recovered from his injury and could not play in all the games of the group stage? Should he not be sitting in the stands at this moment instead of sitting on the subst.i.tutes’ bench?
Could it be a smokescreen created by Twain?
The English reporters comprehended what was going on. Twain must have wanted George Wood, who was the team captain to be at every game with the team. It would give the team a sense of rea.s.surance in this way.
They guessed right.
Even though George Wood could not play in the game, he was doing what he could to help the team.
His teammates were warming up on the field. Instead of watching them at the side, he helped the coaches put up the triangle cones, and then he even did some light jogging to warm up. It caused another round of discussion when the reporters took in this scene.
“I really can’t see the impact of his injury. Look at his running movement, how normal it looks!”
“No, you can still see when you look closely. He looks like he’s still afraid to exert force in the front part of his right foot.”
“That’s right. Jogging slowly and playing on the pitch are two different things … Alas, it shouldn’t have been a problem at all to advance from the group stage. But now I’m starting to worry about England.”
“What’s there to be worried about! It’s as if that without George Wood, England would be an unruly bunch of people. The best players from the English Premier League are not here to look pretty.”
Someone muttered in his mind, “There’s so much hype in the English Premier League that the players could really be there to look pretty…”
Going through the players on the England team’s squad list, there were probably only four players who could be considered as having reached a truly world-cla.s.s level. They were Gerrard, Terry, Rooney and George Wood. As for the others, whether they could play as the main force in Serie A, La Liga and Bundesliga, it was still unknown. Just like Lennon, who was once considered the top candidate to play on the right side in England, could not even play as a subst.i.tute at Inter Milan.
Therefore, for those who understood football, the England team had always been a “pseudo-strong team.” The English media certainly comprehended football too. But in order to satisfy the pride and arrogance of the English fans, they enthusiastically promoted that talent was everywhere in the English football world, and there were more talented players than there were dogs which was the aim they pursued. Only in this way could they be financially profitable. After all, no one liked to hear bad things about the team they supported.
As a result, all the previous England team looked star-studded and brilliant. But it was actually vulnerable, like a s.h.i.+ny porcelain bottle. And what was even more frightening was that these England players who lived all the time in the media’s lies and hyperbole publicity, really thought that they were world-cla.s.s. They were unwilling to continue improving, arrogant and conceited. They would collectively drop the ball at the most critical moment.
It was already not a secret that everyone in Europe knew that England was just all hype. Such as their opponent, the Portuguese team, for this game, was well aware of it.
After returning to the locker room after the warm-up, Queiroz a.n.a.lyzed the England team’s current situation for the players. He came to the conclusion that Tony Twain was bluffing by saying that they could not be without Wood. He’d bet Twain could not wait for other people to think that the England team would be a second-tier team without George Wood, which in fact they were. If the Portugal team were to fear the so-called “non-core tactics” of the England team and ended up playing with constraints in the game, they would lose a great opportunity.
This was a valuable opportunity to score points.
Queiroz remembered Twain’s contempt toward him at yesterday’s press conference and it made him angry. That man just happened to be lucky and won a few Champions League t.i.tles. The reason why he became famous was not because of his great ability, but because he was in England! In that country with its overly active media, minor matters would be blown up by them into events that would affect the development of the world.
How could an unconventional and foul-mouthed manager who even married a model wife younger than him by twenty-one years, not be famous? He just had to swear the word “f**K” toward the cameras and it was enough for the media to hype for a week.
His fame and self-confidence were based on this type of foundation, and such a foundation was simply vulnerable and just an illusion.
This game would give show everyone…
“Attack the moment the game starts.” Queiroz looked at his players and said.
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“If the ball possession is in our hands, retreat after a round of attack to draw them out. If they have the right to kick off, then that’s great. Let them attack and we will play defensive counterattack.”
Twain made the final arrangements in the locker room.
“The opening fifteen minutes of the game should be the time when you’re under the most pressure. No matter what happens, I don’t want to see us concede the goal. Even at the expense of our offense, I still want you to defend and hold. Once the opponent is allowed to score a goal first, the game will be hard to play.”
He said grimly, “This is our first group game. The outcome of the game will determine whether or not we can go over the line. Guys, I must admit we’re not in a good situation right now. Our opponents want to take advantage of that.” Everyone was aware that he was referring to George Wood’s absence from the group stage.
“I’ve heard some comments before, and I don’t know if you’ve heard anything.” Twain suddenly laughed, but in the eyes of his players who knew him, his laughter at this time was strange.
“There is an outside perception that the England team is being blown out of proportions by the British media and that in actual fact, our strength is only second-rate in Europe.”
Some of the players showed surprise on their faces, while the others did not seem surprised.
“I don’t know what you all think of that, but I’m not happy about it. Because you are all selected by me. But our team is labeled as ‘Europe’s second-rate.’ Europe’s second-rate!” Twain suddenly raised his voice, “I don’t care about the results of the previous England teams and what kind of impression they gave. I only know one thing – my team is here for the champions.h.i.+p t.i.tle. Will a team that can win the UEFA European Football Champions.h.i.+p be second rate in Europe?”
“No, no, boss.”
The players answered one by one.
“So, I keep thinking that we need a chance to prove it to them. To prove that we are not all show and no substance.” Twain waved his hands and said, “Portugal is a good opponent for that.” He laughed, “We’re not going to be seen as unconvincing for beating them. As long as we win Portugal, the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who say we are ‘second-rate in Europe’ will have to be slapped by us! But a victory is not enough, because there are always diehards who will say we’re just lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. So, for this game, next game, and the next game … Until the final, we’re going to keep winning!”
The spirits of the players was gradually mobilized by Twain.
The time was ripe for Twain to say, “I don’t care which football clubs you come from, and whatever football philosophy you have receive. I would like to say that where I am, here in the national team, forget your statuses and football styles at the club. The national team’s football is very simple. I do not ask you to achieve anything but victory!”
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Wood had not had such an experience for a long time as he sat on the subst.i.tutes’ bench watching his teammates play. In the old days of Eriksson and McClaren, he often enjoyed the treatment of sitting in the spot nearest to the field to watch the game. Later, he gradually grew to become the main force in the team’s midfield. But he did not expect that he would become a spectator again after so many years.
It did not feel good.
The game had already begun, and Terry had won the right to pick the side of the field, so the right to kick off belonged to the Portugal team. Twain was pleased with the result and clapped off the field before the game even started.
After the game started, Portugal took advantage of their kick-off to take the lead on the pitch.
Portuguese and Spanish football had a lot in common. Both belonged to the European Latin style and placed emphasis on ball control. They had exquisite footwork skills and sneered at the English style of long b.a.l.l.s. Once they had the ball under control, it would be hard for the opponent to tackle it again.
Ten minutes into the game, the Portugal team did just that.
As long as the ball was at their feet, it would be difficult for the England team to intercept their ball unless they had completed an attack. The Portugal team’s two full backs could therefore boldly plug in to a.s.sist with the offense without worry.
Moutinho and Veloso curbed England’s Gerrard and Michael Johnson in the middle. Cristiano Ronaldo and Quaresma continuously pounded the England team’s rear defensive line on the left and right respectively.
The only good news was that a tall center forward like Mitch.e.l.l was not in Portugal so that they could not make use of headers to threaten the goal defended by Joe Hart.
It was only after the Portugal players found out they had not broken through on the side with the cross pa.s.ses that they changed their style of play.
At first when the Portugal team would frequently sent out cross pa.s.ses from the sides, the England team would almost give up the defense on the sides and withdrew to the middle to defend against the cross pa.s.ses. Now, after the Portugal team’s targeted adjustment, the England team was in a bit of a mess.
The Portuguese wingers had outstanding skills, speed and awareness. They were not player who only knew how to send out cross pa.s.ses, they were also well-known as raiders on the sides.
Quaresma suddenly cut inward after he made use of a feint on the right side to brush past England’s left back Downing. Joe Mattock extended his foot to intercept the ball but tripped the other party instead. The referee whistled that Mattock had a foul. The foul caused all the English supporters to break out in cold sweat – the spot where the foul happened was just one step away from the penalty area. Quaresma almost created a penalty shot!
If that was the case, Twain’s pre-match deployment was all for naught. “Thanks” to George Wood, Quaresma had suffered a serious injury before. On top of that, he was now thirty-two years old and not as fast as before. But his skills were maturing. Rather like Luís Figo during his heyday, he only had to use his footwork skills to fool his opponents to complete a breakthrough.
Veloso was to carry out the free kick. He did not choose to pa.s.s, but directly shot at the goal from the corner of the penalty area!
He completely deceived the England goalkeeper, Joe Hart. When the football flew out of the end line after a brush with the goalpost, Joe Hart was still at the far end of the goalpost getting ready for the cross pa.s.s …
“Wow! What a shame!” The commentator cried.
Loud sighs also rang out in the stands. The Portuguese fans made up the vast majority of Camp Nou, which had completely become the home stadium of the Portugal national team.
Having missed such a good scoring opportunity, Veloso was a little annoyed. He looked up at the sky and kept mumbling with his mouth.
The shot made Twain rise up from his seat in the technical area. He felt a little nervous. No matter how much preparation he did before the game, he could not predict exactly what would happen in the game. It might be a kind of charm football had, but it was torture for Twain.
“If you’re going to have a foul, you must also remember to stay away from the penalty area…” He was talking to himself on the sidelines.
Without George Wood in the midfield to defend, the England team was not as good as they used to be. Portugal’s midfield clearly had the upper hand. Soon after, they besieged England’s goal, hoping to score early.
The Portuguese fans in the stands cheered on and encouraged their team, sparing no efforts.
But twenty minutes pa.s.sed, and the Portugal team’s bombardment did not bear fruit. England’s tight defense left the Portugal at a loss.
They wanted to make use of individual techniques to break through, but the England team would rather give them free kicks than to let them break through and get in. It served the Portugal right for not being able to score. In today’s game, several of their players were in poor form to send out the free kicks. Other than Veloso taking advantage of Joe Hart’s inertial thinking to threaten the goal, there was no more shot that made things difficult for Hart.
Seeing that his team had no way of facing a tight defense, the Portuguese commentator quipped, “Since when does the England team learn to withdraw to defend? They are simply playing like a weak team from Eastern Europe. When Tony Twain coached the Forest team, the Forest team’s style play was considered the ugliest to watch and was the least pa.s.sionate. Now he has transformed the England team into this way…”
Motson, the BBC commentator in charge of the commentary for the England game, did not care about all these. He loudly cheered Twain’s team on, “The Portugal team thinks that their offense is sharp, but in front of England’s defense, they are realizing just how ridiculously wrong they are!”
The Germany national team’s manager sitting in the stands wrote in a small notebook, “… Losing George Wood, the England team’s strength is clearly impaired, and they are adopting a tighter defense to reduce the pressure on the rear defensive line…”
Later that same day, the Germany national team would play against Wales in Valencia. They had not forgotten to keep a close eye on the group’s other two rivals in compet.i.tion to advance out of the group stage. They did not care too much about the Wales team.
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Zé Castro, the Portuguese national team’s center back, was bored stiff. His teammates were busy in front, trying to break England’s goal, while he and Pepe stayed at the back to watch the game. Such a game was really boring.
He looked around and continued to run toward the front in a short distance. He pressed ahead on the center line. In his mind, he calculated whether to step in on time to partic.i.p.ate in the attack and do a long shot for the fun of it.
“José, come back!” Pepe suddenly shouted his name in the back.
Castro waved his hands behind him. The England team was like an ostrich. What was there to be afraid of?
“The fool!” Pepe scolded in a low voice at the back when he saw that he could not call him back.
He set his sights on the England team’s technical area on the sidelines.
Tony Twain was standing in the command area with both hands in his pockets. It was a good thing he was not sitting in the technical area and crossing his leg with one ankle on his other knee.
Two years had gone by and he still had not forgotten the boss’ habit. Different movements represented different meanings. Only the Nottingham Forest players could understand. If he was sitting on the sidelines with one leg over another, it would mean that he had a card up his sleeve, and that there must be a scheme behind it. He was currently standing on the sidelines, so it meant that he was not very confident deep down – he was afraid his team would be destroyed by the Portugal team’s tumultuous offensive.
Maybe he himself was over-thinking it?
Pepe shook his head gently. He did not know why he had an ominous hunch in his mind when he looked at England playing so badly. It felt familiar and reminded him a little of Nottingham Forest.
If the England team in front of him had changed the white jerseys to red ones, perhaps it would remind him more.
While Pepe was lost in his thoughts, his central defender partner simply went over the center line. After he received a back pa.s.s from his teammates, he made a feint before choosing to dribble the ball himself to break through!
As a Portuguese player, even the center back had fine footwork skills. He managed to cross the midfield and chose to pa.s.s the ball as he approached the England team’s penalty area. But after pa.s.sing the ball on to his teammate, Moutinho, he did not run back. Instead, he continued to plug ahead and tried to play a two-over-one pa.s.s!
But Moutinho’s pa.s.s was intercepted by Michael Johnson!
The England team launched a counterattack!
Johnson pa.s.sed the ball to Gerrard, who sent forth a long pa.s.s!
Mitch.e.l.l, the lighthouse in the front field, grabbed the spot before Veloso and then leapt high to head the ball….
The football flew obliquely to the back where Walcott was plugging in at a high speed!
At this time, the entire Portugal team’s backfield were only left with two players, Pepe and the goalkeeper, Rui Patrício. The Portuguese players did not even react for a while – is our backfield so empty? Where have all the people gone?
“a.s.shole!” Pepe could only swore at his partner, Castro who had rushed up, to vent his anger at this time. He hurriedly left the middle and dashed toward the side to intercept and block Walcott. The boy’s speed was a level to run a hundred meters sprint……
The ominous hunch in his mind came true. This scene was so familiar to him – they used to deal with powerful opponents like that when he was at the Forest team. When the opponents were complacent during the besieging of the Forest team, they had no idea that their Achilles heel was completely exposed to the Forest team’s firepower.
Pepe already planned to foul when he rushed to tackle Walcott’s ball. He did a slide tackle in the hope of knocking the ball out of the field along with the player himself.
But he miscalculated. He might have been able to do so two years ago, but at the age of thirty-two, he had no ability to look down on the” young tiger” Walcott’s youth.
The ball was taken away by Walcott before his toes even touched the football. Then the a.r.s.enal winger nimbly leapt up and evaded Pepe’s slide shovel.
He broke through!
Twain took his two hands of his pants pocket and was clenching his fists, ready to wave.
The England team’s chance finally came after holding on hard for more than twenty minutes. It came so easily that he was worried about whether Walcott would waste this great opportunity by having too many distracting thoughts in his mind…
“If you miss this shot, I’ll make you sit on the subst.i.tutes’ bench in the next game!” Twain harped on fiercely.
Walcott broke through Pepe and the rest of the England players did not stay behind to watch the show. The strikers, Mitch.e.l.l, Rooney and Downing all dialed up their speed to the highest and ran with all their might toward the opponent’s penalty area, ready to receive the pa.s.s that might appear at any time.
It was scary for the Portuguese – it was definitely not an accident. It was a premeditated counterattack and a blatant plot!
Now even if Walcott slowed down, the England team also had a good chance of breaching the goal. The Portugal team’s center back, Zé Castro was still near the center circle as he ran back to defend… He was running very hard, but he was not a speedy player by nature. Instead, it was the two full backs who were giving chase quickly.
Rooney rushed to the fore front. He raised his arm to signal for Walcott to pa.s.s the ball.
Walcott, who had already dribbled the ball into the penalty area, looked at the goalkeeper, Patrício, who was ready to pounce and looked at Rooney again. Then he swept the football over.
The ball was slightly nearer to the front… Rooney gritted his teeth and charged over. Then he then did a studs-up!
“England’s counterattack … Walcott is fast! Patrício strikes! He has abandoned the goal to strike! Rooney rushes in, and will Walcott pa.s.s the ball… He pa.s.sed the ball! He pa.s.sed the ball! It’s a little wide, slightly wider, a bit too far…a slide shot!!” The neutral Spanish commentator spoke so fast, like a machine gun, and the spectators’ hearts beat faster in sync.
He struck the ball and the football changed direction to bounce toward the goal.
Motson had already roared in antic.i.p.ation of the celebratory goal, “GOOOO—”
The football flew in a parabolic line and descended into the empty goal.
“——OOOAL!!”
Pepe, lying outside the field, saw the scene and angrily smashed the turf with his hands.
Twain held his fists up high and waved to the sky. The crowd in the technical area and subst.i.tutes’ bench behind him rushed out. They waved their fists and cheered.
Once Rooney got up from the ground, he ran excitedly with his arms wide open toward Walcott, who had pa.s.sed him the ball. Mitch.e.l.l and Downing, who had been sprinting just now, did not slow down. They simply turned straight to catch up with Rooney. The rest of the England players were also das.h.i.+ng to the front field. It was a spectacular scene.
It took less than fifteen seconds for the England team from when they turned out in full force to attack till they were celebrating the goal. Most of the Portuguese players were still in the front field, unable to react yet.
Queiroz angrily kicked the water bottle beside his feet. The England team was too despicable and cunning!!
“England scores its first goal of the tournament. In the 23rd minute, they take a 1:0 lead over Portugal! It’s just their second shot in the entire game! With such a terrifying efficiency!”
The England players were in a tight embrace after the goal, Twain saw the “solidarity” he wanted most to see. He glanced at the angry Queiroz, and he knew that he had the Portugal team in the palm of his hands.