Godfather Of Champions

“It seems that the media’s area of interest is in your style and popularity.” Said David Kerslake, Twain’s assistant manager as he flipped through the newspapers. Recently he liked to read these newspaper articles about Twain, because the reporters’ biting articles filled with their forte of sarcasm always made him laugh and put him in a happy mood for the day.

“No one has ever mentioned the matter of results when you’re mentioned.” After reading all the papers, Kerslake stacked them up and put them aside. He looked Twain opposite.

Tony Twain was having another look at the desk in front of him.

It was exactly the same as when he first came to this club 15 years ago. The style of the dark red solid wood desk completely looked like it was from last century inside out.

He placed his hands on the table, gently caressed it back and forth, feeling every tiny bump and scratch on the table.

The table was currently empty. There was nothing on it except for LCD computer monitor. Freddy Eastwood had already taken all his personal belongings away. Reports and information were neatly stacked on the bookcase at the side.

“Isn’t that good? That way, we won’t have too much pressure.” Twain ran his hands over the table with his head lowered as he answered.

“I thought you were going to fly into a rage because you were being looked down upon by the media.”

“I’m not an idiot, David. With these kinds of doubts about the results, talking won’t do any good. You must use actual results to beat them.” After he finally touched every inch of the table, Twain sat down in his chair.

“It’s good that they love to hype my personal style. I’m eager for no one to care about what happens to the team Nottingham Forest right now. Let’s talk about the team, David.”

Hearing Twain say so, Kerslake also put away the smile on his face and opened up a thick notebook on his lap.

“Currently, there are 26 players in the First Team. The goalkeepers are Vincenzo Fiorillo, Mark Howard and Chris Kelly. The defenders are Thiago Silva, Mamadou Sakho, Ryan Shawcross, Mathias Jørgensen, Jan Vertonghen, Joe Mattock, Nicolas Nkoulou, Jack Cork, Nedum Onuoha and Carl Dickinson. In the midfield, we have George Wood, Jake Livermore, Fernando Gago, Stephen Ireland, Chris Cohen, Alex Teixeira, Georginio Wijnaldum and Kieran Gibbs. The forwards are Aaron Mitchell, Gabriel Agbonlahor, Mario Balotelli, Matt Derbyshire and Steven Fletcher.”

As Kerslake read the name list, Twain’s eyebrows were constantly knitted together Although he knew all these names and was able to put the names to their faces, these names currently gave him a sense of unfamiliarity. This sense of unfamiliarity was due to the fact that he did not know much about these players.

Twain’s so-called understanding was definitely not as simple as knowing what their names were, what positions they were playing and how well they had been playing recently. His understanding was comprehensive, even to the extent of knowing what the players liked to eat and what they liked to do before a game…

“In fact, most of these players are very good…” Kerslake added after he finished reading the list. He said, “The goalkeeper, Fiorillo is the Italian national team’s substitute goalkeeper and was known as ‘Little Buffon’ when he first made his debut. Nkoulou is Cameroon’s main defender and Sakho is France’s main center back. Jørgensen is also a regular with the Danish national team. Vertonghen is Belgium’s main player and can play multiple positions in the midfield to backfield. Onuoha has also played for the national team led by you. Gibbs is a great player trained by Arsenal and you had once selected him for the England team. Ireland is the main midfielder in the Irish national team. While Teixeira has not been selected for the Brazilian national team, his ability speaks for itself. Wijnaldum is a key player for the Netherlands national team. Derbyshire also played for you before and Fletcher is Scotland’s leading striker… But yet they play so terribly when put together.”

Twain laughed and said, “A football tournament is not won by putting eleven Maradonas together. Some of these players’ style may not be suitable for Nottingham Forest while some people lack the fighting spirit. Then there are some people who just want to leave, and the others are getting older with frequent injuries. You tell me, how can such a team achieve good results?”

Hearing Twain say so, Kerslake also felt the team had no prospects.

“Continue with the summary of your observations, David.”

“Well… I don’t think there’s any problem in Freddy’s main lineup. It’s the strongest lineup the Forest team can deploy, and I don’t think the reason for the team’s poor performance lies with the players. But in terms of techniques and tactics…”

After listening patiently to Kerslake’s analysis, Twain muttered for a moment before shaking his head as he said, “The techniques and tactics are couple of the reasons. But the root of the problem lies squarely with the players. No matter how good the tactical arrangements are, if the players don’t execute them, there is no other way. But the problem is not urgent… Let’s talk about the tactics. McAllister’s attempt to get Wood to play as the attacking midfielder is not worth keeping. It is no use having the two sides lean towards the middle either. To be honest, I think the team has already forgotten what the Forest tradition is.”

Twain spoke boldly as if he had not just taken over the team but had been coaching the team for a long time.

The Forest team had changed managers frequently over the years and had changed seven managers within four and a half seasons. The immediate consequence of this was that the tactical thinking was chaotic. The players did not know which way to follow and eventually might as well not follow any to simply play according to their own habits and style in the games. It was the reason that caused the team’s performance to increasingly worsen.

Twain certainly was aware of it. It was absolutely impossible to get the team back to the top of the league table with more than half a season left to go. Now that he had decided to let Dunn succeed him in his career, all he had to do now was to make a transition. He could not set the course of Nottingham Forest’s development for the next decade. It was not what he should be doing. His job was very simple – to use whichever means it took to restore the team’s fighting spirit in a short period of time, so that they could stay in the Premier League for the next season. It was just as he told Dunn, “A bigger stage.”

And that was exactly the job Twain did best.

Isn’t it to just lead the team to win? I have been doing this for fifteen years.

“No need for an attacking midfielder; restore the offense from the sidelines; the two strikers can’t be positioned in parallel, one forward and one back, staggered them. The second striker must actively withdraw to establish links with the midfield; stabilize the defense … Our immediate work has to start with the defense, to stop the trending decline of the team’s performance and boost the low morale. The key factor is to not concede the goal and not lose the game.”

Kerslake nodded in agreement with Twain. After consecutive losses, what they should consider was not whether the attacking power was strong or not, but whether their own defensive line was solid. Defense was the basis of victory and defense was also the source of offense. To not fix the defense and ask the team to step up the offense was akin to putting the cart before the horse.

“Then in terms of the arrangement of the players…” He asked a crucial question. Would Twain still be interested in the players who previously played as the main force in the team? If the starting lineup required adjustments, it would certainly stir up some people’s interests. So, in that case, how could the atmosphere in the team’s locker room be guaranteed?

“Look at their condition during training.” Twain replied simply. Then he realized that Kerslake was actually worried about the locker room, so he asked, “Isn’t George the leader in the locker room?”

“The local players all obey him. As for the foreign players… In fact, the locker room is mainly divided into several factions.” Speaking of which, Kerslake became a little embarrassed. The forming of such cliques and factions had never happened before when Twain coached the team and would be absolutely impossible to appear.

“Local cliques and foreign factions?” Twain was not surprised by this. He did not feel awkward talking about it – anyway it did not occur under his command.

Kerslake nodded and did not want to say more.

Twain grinned, and it was not known whether he was smiling or expressing helplessness.

“Interesting.” He pinched his chin and muttered.

Then he sat in the chair for a while without saying a word. After about ten minutes like this, when Kerslake was a little bored waiting, he turned his wrist over to look at his watch and got up.

“Let’s go, David. I think the players should all be here, right?”

※※※

“The boss is coming back!” In the locker room, Joe Mattock excitedly announced the news, which was definitely not news. “I can’t believe I’m able to wait for the arrival of such a day!”

But not many people were interested in the topic of his conversation. On the one hand, the news that Twain was coming back was more than two weeks ago, and the upsurge of such a discussion was long over. On the other hand, it was natural that the players in the locker room each had something on their minds.

What Kerslake said was true. In the current locker room, invisible factions did exist. The English players were in a league, while the other non-England players each formed small groups. At the same time, the Forest team’s long-serving players had harmonious relations, while there was a chasm between those players who only joined after Twain had left and those old players.

The 33-years-old Brazilian center-back, Thiago Silva was a leading figure in the foreign legion because of his age and seniority. He joined the team that summer when Twain had just left the Forest team. He once represented the Forest team and played against the England team that Twain led in a friendly match. He had always been unimpressed by the legendary manager. On the one hand, he was influenced by the media. On the other hand, … He could not understand why those old players would still keep a manager who had abandoned his team constantly in mind. He felt that it was foolish.

Another person who was not interested in the news of Twain’s return was more solitary. He did not belong to any cliques or factions. He was alone against the entire team. He was Mario Balotelli, the “Super Mario” who made noise about leaving every summer but never walked away, and the more noise he made, the higher his wages went.

His character and temper left him with few friends in the team. As a fellow Italian, the goalkeeper, Fiorillo was not accustomed to seeing Balotelli’s proud and aloof temperament and conduct. He thought that he should be the real core of the team, and not George Wood. But the coaches did not get a clear picture of this fact, so the team’s performance was so poor. If Tony Twain still could not recognize his role and value, it was believed that his return was just another tragedy.

The leader of the English and old players’ clique was naturally George Wood. But Wood would not do the kind of thing that would split his own locker room, so he was actually just a figurative leader, like a totem erected by others. The players unhappy with Silva and Balotelli gathered spontaneously around the totem to confront them in Wood’s name.

This was the current state of the Forest team’s locker room. When there was such a fractured locker room, how could there be fighting strength? David Kerslake said the team’s problems were tactical, and not on the players. However, Twain was right. The root cause laid squarely with the players …

“Don’t shout.” Wood appeared behind the excited Mattock and said, “You’ll be late if you don’t change your clothes quickly. The boss doesn’t like anyone to be late.”

He had said these words to Joe Mattock, but his eyes were on everyone in the locker room.

Thiago Silva and Balotelli, with their backs toward him, gave no indication.

Mattock quickly looked down and went to change into his training clothes.

People were still talking in the locker room, but they did not stop what they were doing. Both the old and English natives knew Twain a stickler for time – he used to hold a stopwatch on the training ground as he waited for the players. The way he would require the latecomer to run one lap for every ten seconds he was late was spread through word of mouth by the players and had long been well known.

※※※

“Do you want to prepare a stopwatch?” Kerslake asked on the training ground. There was not one single player on the training ground yet at this time, but it was too early for the set training time to begin.

“Do you have it in your hand now?” Twain asked.

Kerslake took his hand out of his pocket and showed Twain what he had in his hand. It was indeed a black stopwatch.

Twain cracked open a smile and said, “You really know me well. Let’s start the time.”

The other coaches also came to the training ground and greeted Twain and Kerslake. Some of them were the same people who had helped Twain when he was still coaching here. A few of them were poached from other clubs and had a good relationship with Kerslake. They were new to Twain.

When Twain saw Freddy Eastwood, who went back to be an assistant manager among the coaches, he went up to say hello to him, “Do you feel free now, Freddy?”

“Of course, I feel good now, Chief!” Eastwood smiled and said to Twain, “I don’t have to think about matters like what tactics the team should use to beat Manchester United when I get up in the morning anymore.”

Twain smiled. People like Eastwood were fit to be assistant managers and did not have much ambition. It was good this way. He could feel comfortable as an assistant manager to Twain. Eastwood was familiar with the team and popular with the players and fans. He would be a good assistant manager …

The coaches also saw the new manager come so early and came to the training ground earlier. So, a scene was formed where the coaches had all gathered and waited for the players on the pitch.

When Mattock first ran from the locker room to the pitch, he quickly muttered to himself what a close call it was when he saw such a situation. If he had dawdled and came later, then he would be in trouble … Joe Mattock was clear about the boss’ temper. He might usually have a good relationship with him, but if he violated one of his rules, then he would still get into trouble despite the good relationship.

Since he was not late, then there was no need to be afraid of his boss. Mattock smiled and said hello to Twain, “Good morning, boss.”

“Good morning, lad. Where are the others?” Twain asked.

“They are all in the back and will come out soon…” Mattock turned his head back to look toward the direction of the locker room. He was not certain if his teammates would actually follow and quickly come out. But he hoped that Silva and Balotelli would be five or six minutes late…

He did not get what he wanted. All the players appeared on the training ground, neatly dressed before the stipulated time to gather.

Twain looked his soldiers, his men, and felt sorry. “You’re so lucky, guys.” He shook his head and said, “How I wish you could delay in the locker room until 10:15, from 9:30 to 10:15, 45 minutes, one lap every ten seconds. My math is not very good, so you can calculate how many laps you have to run. Maybe the whole morning’s training session would have to be spent on running, but I don’t care. Nonetheless it’s a shame…” He sighed heavily.

“You lucky bastards. But don’t be in such a hurry to breathe a sigh of relief.” He pointed to the players who were just getting ready to let out a long breath. He said, “From now on, until the end of the season, we’ll have six months’ time of interaction. I’ll have a chance to catch you.”

With that, Twain paused for a moment. He swept his gaze across all the players. He could see a lot of things in the eyes of those people. Some people looked at him excitedly and were full of anticipation for the future; some people bowed their heads and he did not know what was on their minds; there were also other people who averted their eyes in the moment he met gazes with them, unwilling to make further contact; of course, some people looked him unfalteringly as if to deliberately remind Twain of their own existence.

After sweeping his eyes over everyone, Twain spoke again, “I’m a retired man. Look at the white hair on my head.” He said, pointing to both sides of his temples, “But if any of you think I’m old, I say to you, bring it on!”

The eyes of some people among the players lit up.