Chapter 898: Welcome Home, Tony
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
In fact, the England national team’s tactics were very similar to Nottingham Forest’s. Other than they did not insist on just playing defensive counterattack, the features of the sudden attacks on the sidelines, the two wingers in full strength, simple and fast breakthroughs in the midfield were still very consistent. The England team’s ability for positional play was not very good, which neither Eriksson, McClaren nor Capello had completely resolved.
After Capello came on, he had tried ways and means to enrich the England team’s playing approach in the positional play, but with limited success. Compared to the Latin and European players from Italy, Portugal, Spain and France, the England team’s players had rough footwork skills. This fact had not been changed even though the English Premier League had flourished for so many years.
Now that Twain had taken over the England team, he was in no hurry to show England’s ability for positional play in this game. The easiest and most effective way was to get the team back the familiar path – to aim high for header shots, the two wingers in full strength, and the coordination between the sides and middle supplemented by long shots. Playing like this was definitely not good to watch, but the England fans did not care about it. After all, not all England fans were a.r.s.enal fans at the same time.
The advantage of playing in this way was that the team was more familiar with it and Twain was also spared the worry. Given the ability of these current England players, they might be able to play any overly complex tactics. On the other hand, the Nottingham Forest players were coordinated. Even with a change of manager, the team’s strength had not suffered much.
Twain coped with the changes by staying constant. The tactics which had been developed before the game made all the England players feel very familiar – these were the best features of the training they received since young till they were older…
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There was a big difference between the Crimson Stadium and the City Ground stadium. The players’ locker rooms and tunnel were shabby in the City Ground stadium even though they were renovated once in the 1990s to host the UEFA European Champions.h.i.+p. They looked worn out after nearly two decades as compared with the modern Crimson Stadium.
Twain pushed open the locker room door and went out. He had to show up on the pitch earlier than the players.
Walking in the wide and bright tunnel, he turned into the hall.
The hall was more than twice as big as the one in the City Ground stadium. The smooth marble floor was like a mirror, reflecting everything on its surface. Twain looked down at his feet and scrutinize with his head tilted for a moment. Then he turned right and walked into the tunnel used specially to go out to the pitch.
The tunnel was wider than the one coming from the locker room. From what Twain could see, two Hummer Jeeps could even ride side by side. Just based on this detail, it was no wonder the Nottingham Forest club had been plagued by a financial crisis before – the budget was not a small one to build such a good stadium.
The left wall of the tunnel was painted with the team emblem of Nottingham Forest – a large white oak tree was on the red background. On the right wall, there was a sentence written on it: In addition to victory, it is still victory!
It was Twain’s suggestion at the time. He wanted to use this phrase to inspire the Forest players. They just had to turn their heads and they could see it from here before every home game, so that they could firmly remember what Nottingham Forest tradition was.
Unfortunately, he had already left the team and did not know if it would continue to be carried out.
Twain stopped in his tracks in the tunnel as he looked sideways at that phrase in a daze.
Above the players’ tunnel at Anfield, there was a saying: “This is Anfield.” The phrase was the brainchild of the famous G.o.dfather of The Reds, Shankly. He wanted every team which came here to compete, to know the opponent they were playing against. It was their h.e.l.l here. And now a lot of Liverpool players would put their hands up to the sign before they entered the field for good luck. It almost became a tradition.
When Twain was still the Forest manager, he also wanted to use this method to remind his players that the pursuit of victory would always be a tradition for Nottingham Forest, whether it was during Clough’s era or in Tony Twain’s era.
The sound of footsteps came from behind. Des Walker walked up to Twain and also saw the same words on the wall.
“There’s definitely a touch of ‘Tony Twain’s style’.” He said with a laugh.
Twain ignored his teasing. He just turned around and walked toward the field outside as he said, “Let’s go.”
Before Twain had gone out, he could already see the media who had gathered there and been waiting outside through the exit of the tunnel. The number of media today seemed to have exceeded the number for a regular friendly match. It was too many even if it was a deliberate publicity campaign by the Forest Club.
Twain certainly knew who these people came for. He suddenly slowed down and let Des Walker, who was close behind him, overtake him.
From his spot, all he could see was a lot of frenetic media. What else was there in the area where he could not see, waiting for him?
His heartbeat suddenly increased, and he was more nervous than playing in the Champions League final.
He did not care about his enemies’ mocking and ridicule or abuses and attacks. But he could not ignore how his supporters would treat him now.
However, he could not hide in here and not go out. With so many media watching him, he did not want them to see that he had a weak side.
He readjusted the collar of his suit. This action seemed redundant because he was dressed neatly so far.
Then he stepped out.
The moment his figure appeared in the reporters’ field of view; the flashes of the cameras started working. And when he completely walked out of the tunnel and appeared in front of tens of thousands of people, those flashes merged into a big bright light and the clicking sound of the shutters fell incessantly on the ear.
Twain was still able to keep his composure in the face of the reporters. He walked to the home team’s technical area nonchalantly.
Des Walker could not close his agape mouth when he saw the scene next door. He really wanted to remind Tony that he went the wrong way…
The fans who noticed this in the stands also burst into laughter.
“Ah ha, what do we have here? Tony Twain has walked to the wrong place! Ha ha! This is a rare occurrence. Don’t tell me he still thinks he’s the manager of Nottingham Forest?” The commentator in charge of the commentary for the game had a gleeful emphasis and tone.
David Kerslake, who was sitting in the home team’s technical area, looked a little embarra.s.sed when he saw Twain directly walked over here. Eastwood, on the other hand, continued to watch with interest. He wanted to see how the chief would resolve this predicament.
In fact, in the moment Twain turned toward that direction, he knew he was going in the wrong direction – he was used to walking to the home team’s technical area Nottingham Forest’s home ground. But he forgot his current status. But he did not immediately turn around and go back. That would be too obvious. So, he continued walking and even thought of the countermeasure to deal with the situation.
When he saw Martin O’Neill from far away, Twain had already offered to shake his hand first. He looked like he wanted to shake the hand of the other man.
O’Neill also got up and walked towards Twain when he saw him doing that. The two men shook hands in front of the throngs of media.
“It turns out to be just a handshake.” The commentator was very disappointed.
The laughter in the stands subsided when they saw Twain and O’Neill shaking hands. Perhaps the crowd waiting to watch the show felt that the result was too boring.
But the reporters had other ideas – was this considered a formal handover between the old and new Forest managers? They even helped the both of them scripted their lines:
Twain: I’m handing my team to you. Don’t let me down.
O’Neill: Rest a.s.sured, our goal is still to be the champion!
But the two men did not exchanged any words. They just shook hands. Then O’Neill gave way to the technical area behind him, knowing that Twain did not just want to say h.e.l.lo to him alone.
Sure enough, Twain walked toward the a.s.sistant manager, Kerslake after he let go of O’Neill’s hand.
Kerslake also wanted to shake Twain’s hand like O’Neill did, but he did not expect Twain to hug him.
While he held Kerslake, Twain still did not speak and patted him hard. Then he let go of Kerslake, who was still in a daze, and headed toward Eastwood.
Eastwood did not behave as woodenly as Kerslake. While laughing, he hugged Twain, and even whispered in Twain’s ear, “Good luck, chief.”
Just like that, Twain shook hands and hugged everyone in the Nottingham Forest coaching staff in turn, as the media followed the entire proceeding and filmed everything.
“He looks more like the master here than Martin O’Neill. Look at his calm demeanor…” John muttered in the stands.
“He won’t be calm anymore in a moment!” Bill shrieked beside him.
John ignored him and stood in the new stands to applaud Twain.
There were not many people like John in the stadium. More people booed like Bill did.
They obviously could not forget what Twain did two months ago.
After hugging and shaking hands with all the Forest coaches, Twain walked toward the visiting team’s technical area surrounded by the reporters. At this time, the fans’ boos became more intense and obvious.
In this way, Twain came to his seat subjected to a hailstorm of loud boos.
Kerslake looked at Twain with some concern and looked the surroundings again. He’d imagined the scenario of Twain’s return, but he did not expect the Forest team to really be so divided to this point.
The commentator was also a little perplexed as he muttered, “Just listen to the boos. They’re all directed at one person…”
The telecast gave Twain a long close-up shot, in which Twain tightly pursed his lips in the frame and did not look up to take a glance at the fans in the stands. His eyes looked unfocused like he was gazing afar.
“What a shame. This is the welcome given to the former king of the Forest team. Ha!” Carl Spicer quipped in the stands. He had another topic of discussion in his program in the evening.
Some extreme fans not only booed Twain, but also raised their middle fingers at him and shouted abuses.
Twain’s face was expressionless, and next to him, Walker looked at him with a worried look. He was afraid that his heart could not bear such provocation. But Twain did not suddenly collapse. He stood in place and let the boos ring out overhead. He allowed the reporters around him to take pictures non-stop.
“I bet he must regret not wearing his sungla.s.ses when he came out in his mind.” Spicer glanced at the television set next to him, which was screening a close-up shot of Twain’s face.
Dunn, who saw the scene in the stands, sighed softly.
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The boos kept on, and the players who were waiting to appear in the tunnel all heard it clearly. They gathered in twos and threes to discuss.
“What’s going on out there?”
“Who knows?”
“Cough … Well, it’s all because of the boss.”
“The hisses are for him? No way!” The Forest players were very surprised. To hear hissing against Tony Twain at Nottingham Forest’s home ground was almost comparable to the orbital revolution cycle of Comet Hale–Bopp, which paid a visit to Earth only once in three thousand years.
The Forest players were so surprised that their talking grew louder. The England players next to them also heard clearly and they became interested. The two teams, which were originally in two rows, mingled together. They could not be blamed for doing so as the booing outside was spectacular.
When the Forest team played in the City Ground stadium, once the grandstand, which could only hold up to thirty thousand people, hissed in unison, the momentum could make every visiting team feel a huge psychological pressure. Now in the Crimson Stadium, the capacity of sixty thousand people did more than just doubled the volume of the booing.
When a visiting team played here, the boos of sixty thousand people were shared among the eleven players. And now that all the booing was borne by one person as one could well imagine the pressure. These players could not imagine how long they could bear the power of the hissing if it were to be them.
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Twain still stood motionless in front of the technical area.
John looked at the stubborn figure and surveyed the surroundings. The people who booed as if their lives depended on it made up the majority. He knew what he was going to do was not going to be welcomed, but he still had to do it. Otherwise he would be letting down his own conscience.
He beckoned several of his companions who held the same view as himself. He took out a red cloth from his backpack and handed one end of the cloth to one of his companions. He pulled the other end himself.
The two people stood apart and pulled the cloth to a certain distance. With a shake of their hands, a banner appeared in the grandstand.
Welcome home, Tony!
“Hey, John!” Bill looked at his friend in anger. By doing this, he was sabotaging him.
“Leave me alone, Bill. You boo all you want; I’ll do what I want. Neither of us should stand in each other’s way.” John ignored Bill’s threatening glare and continued to hold the banner as he stood in his seat.
The television broadcast director also noticed the new banner in the stands. Unlike the surrounding slogans that were insulting and mocking Twain, it was a greeting full of warmth and attention grabbing.
It was not known if Twain saw it, but the camera footage first cut over.
“It looks like he does not find himself utterly isolated.” The commentator said after seeing the banner.
“Tony.” Walker, who noticed the banner, said as he nudged Twain to ask him to look.
Twain turned his head and saw John’s banner as well. The corner of his mouth curled up. There was a noticeable change of expression on his face for the first time and this time he smiled.
Then he no longer cared about the reporters who were taking photographs of him. He turned around and sat back in the technical area.
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When the players came out of the tunnel, the booing of Twain finally stopped.
As it was a game to celebrate the opening of the Forest team’s new stadium for use, the arrangement in terms of the appearances was not the same as a regular game. The England team came out first, followed by the Nottingham Forest players. The broadcast would loudly announce every player’s name as he made his appearance, prompting a warm response from the fans.
The Forest fans dedicated their cheers to the glorious Treble winning team, and every Forest player who made an appearance received thunderous cries.
As the captain of the team, George Wood received the loudest cheers, but he maintained his special trait of indifference and did not respond to the cheers from the fans.
The last to run out was the center back, Pepe, who was going to partner with the Brazilian center back, Thiago Silva in the starting lineup. The fans also gave him the same applause and cheers, but he did not wave in response like several of his teammates who came out before him. After which, he ran out with his head held high.
Before he ran onto the field and gathered with his teammates, he turned a corner midway through and ran straight to the visitors’ technical area.
Then, under thousands of staring eyes, he did an action that no one thought of – he opened his arms and gave the unsuspecting Tony Twain a bear hug.
The cheers came to a spontaneous end. The gigantic Crimson Stadium suddenly fell into an awkward silence.
“… Pepe gave Tony Twain an unexpected hug. He seemed to be saying something in Twain’s ear. . ..” The commentator could not understand what was going on with Pepe. Nowadays, anyone who was not a fool, could see the Forest fans’ dislike of Twain. In that case, why would he risk offending all the fans as a Forest player to greet Twain so warmly. Why on earth did he do that for? Could it be that he did not want to continue to be in this team?
Twain looked equally surprised on the television camera shot. He was not surprised because of Pepe’s action, but because of what Pepe said in his ear.
“I’m sorry, boss.” Pepe whispered in his ear. At this moment, the stadium was quiet, and his voice could be heard clearly in Twain’s ears. He said, “I’ve decided to leave here. After playing this game, I’m going to Milan, Italy. AC Milan, that’s my next stop…”
Hearing Pepe’s words, Twain suddenly felt that the Champions League life or death final two months ago was like a dream…
“I know why you left the team, so I also don’t want to stay here any longer. Thank you, boss, thank you. The years I had played for you were my most valuable a.s.set.”
Pepe finished speaking, and hugged Twain hard before letting him go to run back to the field. No one cheered this time. If he listened carefully, he could hear some sporadic boos.
Twain was still sitting in a real leather seat as he stared blankly at Pepe, who returned to the team.
“Pepe! You really did it!” Gareth Bale stared with widened eyes at the center back who ran back.
“Heh heh. Did you think I was kidding?” The returned Pepe smiled proudly and said, “I did what I said I would do!”
While Pepe was bragging about his “feat” to his teammate, Evan Doughty in the chairman’s podium stared at his back with a somber expression. This was the first time someone in the team had openly challenged his authority. It was a dangerous sign. Initially, he was not going to consider the offers for Pepe from the big teams. After all, he was the core of the Forest team’s defense. But now he had to change his mind. Having just won the Treble, the thirty-one-year-old Pepe could still fetch a good price. If he waited a year later, he might not be able to sell him even if he wanted to…..
Twain did not have to raise his head to look around behind to know what expression Evan Doughty, the chairman, had on his face at this moment. When the fans in the stadium booed him, Evan must have been pleased because that meant the fans did not direct the hate at the club, but at him. In this way, his pressure was gone. But Pepe’s action signaled that there were people in the team who were unhappy with the club’s senior management. It was a dangerous development. The locker room had begun to break up.
The photojournalists who were gathered in front of Twain, dispersed. Their target was currently the players. Thanks to them, Twain could see the Forest players as he sat in his chair.
Those guys were standing in formation for a group photo. It was not the official group photo that every club would take before the season. But it could very well be the last more complete group photo of Tony Twain’s era.
What could be more heartbreaking than to watch the gradual collapse of the dynasty he had built by hand on the sidelines?
Twain thought for a long while and could not find it.
The exquisite statues carved out of marble, the bejeweled palace built with jade bricks and columns, the silver-inlaid and gold decorations seemed to have lost the vitality of life. Piece by piece collapsed, fell to the ground and cracked into pieces. The colors gradually dimmed and lost the l.u.s.ter. Very soon, everything would be weathered into sand. With another gust of wind, even the sand on the ground could not be seen.