Godfather Of Champions

Thunderous cheers erupted at the City Ground stadium as the referee whistled three times to signal the end of the game. All the Forest fans stood up from their seats with their hands held high as they swayed their hands toward the sky and sang the Forest team song loudly.

Although this was not the first time they had advanced to the Champions League final, they would not be tired of the victory no matter how many times they had it.

“We have another chance to prove ourselves and show the world that last season’s final was just an accident and that the red color of Nottingham Forest is bound to become the mainstream color of European football in the future!”

The Nottingham commentator shouted enthusiastically on the radio in the police car.

The young policeman leaned against the side of the door and listened intently, while the older policeman set his sights on the City Ground stadium not far ahead. Bright lights and joyous cheers filled the skies.

It must feel fantastic to be in the stadium!

The walkie-talkie on his shoulder made a rustling sound: “…0415, the game is over, and the fans are about to leave the stadium. Stay alert and maintain order, over.”

“0415 got it, over.”

He turned around to pat the young man who was engrossed in the broadcast. “Time to get to work, lad.”

“Huh? Okay… ” The young policeman was a little reluctant.

※※※

The heartbroken Chelsea fans had already begun to leave the stadium, but the Forest fans remained in the stands, singing at the top of their lungs to celebrate their victory.

Twain ended his celebration and walked up to Mourinho.

This time, Mourinho did not evade him, but stood in his spot to wait for Twain to come over and shake hands.

Twain was a little surprised about that.

He went up to Mourinho. “I thought you were going to turn around and walk away.”

“If you want that to happen, I don’t mind walking away now.” Mourinho said with a blank expression on his face.

Twain hurriedly reached his hand out and stated, “shake my hand first before you leave.”

Mourinho extended his hand with a straight face, and lightly touched Twain’s palm before he immediately took it away. After the post-match formality, he left the City Ground stadium without turning his head back. The Chelsea players had long since hurried out. Only the raucous Forest fans and players were left on the field now.

Twain sent off Mourinho and dodged the reporters’ pursuit. He walked onto the field to celebrate the victory with his own players.

They ran from one side of the stands to another side and continually waved thanks to the fans.

At first there was only singing in the stands, and then voices gradually rang out repeatedly within the song. Soon, everyone heard that it was a word.

“Athens!”

The song faded away, and the cry became the only sound on the field.

Whether they were the fans, players, or the stadium cleaners, everyone rallied with their arms held high.

“Athens! Athens! Athens! Athens!”

Outside the stadium, the leaving Chelsea fans looked back in surprise at the small stadium, where they could clearly hear the roars of “Athens! Athens!”

The number 0415 police car where the two officers on duty also looked over at that stadium, surrounded by bright lights as if it were a volcano that continued to emit heat from the crater.

The voices grew louder and louder as they rushed out of the City Ground stadium, swept along by the evening breeze blown from the Sherwood Forest to across the Trent Bridge outside the City Ground stadium, and then split in all directions, spreading to every corner of Nottingham.

In pubs, cabs, homes of the ordinary residents, and around large television screens in large shopping malls, the voices stirred the hearts of all Forest fans, so that they could not help but raise their arms to shout loudly.

“Athens! Athens! Athens! Athens!”

※※※

The next day’s sports edition in the Nottingham Evening Post had a massive headline that occupied half of the page, and the outrageous headline had only one word: Athens!

Needless to say, everyone knew that after the fierce contest between Nottingham Forest and Chelsea, it was Nottingham Forest going to Athens.

It was Pierce Brosnan’s idea, and it was extremely well-received. Copies of that issue of Nottingham Evening Post were snapped up the moment it hit the various newsstands. Compared to the lengthy articles going on about how the game was last night, this headline hit directly at the core, so that all Nottingham fans could not help but recall the previous night’s excitement.

Athens! Athens! Athens! Athens!

The sound seemed to echo in their ears again, so that they could not help but want to rally again.

The true Forest fans did not need to read the other accounts of how that game went last night. They all watched the entire game. Now all they needed was to fully vent their feelings.

When Twain went out to fetch the newspaper in the morning, the neighbors of the street chanted “Athens!” to him when they saw him raise his latest copy of Nottingham Evening Post.

Twain smiled and waved his thanks.

Once he retrieved the newspaper, Twain turned to the sports section while he ate the simple breakfast that he had made. He smiled when he saw Brosnan’s idea.

His phone rang.

“Hello, ah, it’s Mr. 007 Reporter.” Twain was in a good mood and joked with Pierce Brosnan, who had called.

“Tony, I’d like you to have an exclusive interview with me.”

Twain looked at the chap’s byline in the newspaper, and nodded. “I’m fine to do that. But are you sure this is the best time for an exclusive interview?”

Brosnan did not understand what Twain meant. “Huh? Why not? Your team has just advanced to the Champions League finals for the second year in a row. That’s not something anyone can do…”

“No, I mean, if I give you an exclusive now and you publish it tomorrow, what are you going to hype up in a few weeks?”

“Huh? A few more weeks?”

“That’s right, in a few weeks, after the Champions League final. What are you going to do in the face of the new European champion? Are you going to rehash the same story, Mr. Reporter?” Twain simply put his feet up on the table while he leaned back on the chair and teased Brosnan.

There was a gasp on the other line, and then silence.

Twain was not in a hurry. He held the phone and continued to read his newspaper.

After a while, Brosnan’s voice came on again over the phone, “Tony, are you so certain that your team can win? What if you can’t win? Our newspaper always has to prepare two sets of layouts…”

“Don’t prepare them. Just one layout of our championship title will do.” Twain sounded certain, “If I don’t win the Champions League title, I’m going to jump straight into the Aegean Sea!”

Brosnan froze for a moment before he said, “You’re joking, aren’t you? Tony…”

“No, I’m serious. You can even publish this remark in the papers so that everyone knows that I, Tony Twain promised to jump into the Aegean Sea if I can’t win the Champions League title!” Seeing how Brosnan did not say a word, Twain added, “if you don’t believe me, I can also invite all the media reporting on the Champions League to relocate to the seaside after the game and witness my jump.”

“Tony…” Brosnan lowered his voice and whispered, “are you out of your mind?!”

“You’re out of your mind. As a supporter of the Forest team, you have so little confidence in your team.”

“It’s not that I’m not confident… It’s just that work is work, personal feelings aside. It’s the rule to prepare two sets of layouts to deal with the two outcomes before a major final game…”

Twain glanced at the bold headline “Athens” in the newspaper and shook his head, “All right, here’s an idea. You can say this to your boss: if Nottingham Forest doesn’t get the Champions League title, your plan B is to set aside most of the space in the sports section to print these words in bold — ‘Nottingham Forest has lost again. We have nothing to say!'”

With that remark, he abruptly hung up.

“Bah! Bah! Bah!” He spat three times on the floor and griped, “that’s so unlucky! The game hasn’t been played yet, and he’s already thinking about the losing story first. This is no different from every game in the Chinese football, once the commentator sees that the team is trailing, he will say ‘Even if we lose today, we can also learn from this valuable experience and failure to sum up all of our lessons.’ What a pussy!”

After he abused Chinese football, Twain washed up the used cutlery and got up to go knock on Dunn’s house.

It was time for them to get started. They had to travel to Milan, to watch the semi-final game live and observe their opponent in the finals at close range.

※※※

“It didn’t occur to me… that it would be Nottingham Forest that ended up in the final.”

In Milan, after he had watched the semi-final match of the same day, Ferguson chatted with members of his coaching unit after training. His assistant manager, Queiroz was shocked that the Forest team could eliminate Chelsea. He had always looked down Twain and his team, so it was normal for him to be shocked. Perhaps it was because there were rumors that Twain might be chosen as a successor by Ferguson, making him a bit jealous — he thought he should be the only person to succeed Ferguson to be charge of Manchester United in the future.

“Nothing to be surprised about, Carlos,” Ferguson said. “It’s natural for both of them to be in the final. You’d better not underestimate the Forest team, or you will suffer for it sooner or later.” He did not go easy on Queiroz. Ferguson wielded absolute authority, and no one dared to go against his will.

Queiroz immediately shut his mouth.

He felt humiliated to reprimanded by Ferguson in front of so many people and yet he could not say a word, so he could only suppressed his frustration inside him.

Ferguson had no time to care about Queiroz’s psyche. He was still discussing last night’s game with the coaches, as the opponent for the finals had already been determined. If Manchester United advanced to the finals, they would have a big battle against the Forest team.

At that time, no one would hold back.

“Defensive counterattack… is really a good way to get results in a big game.”

“Maybe we should play defensive counterattack with them at Milan?” Someone proposed.

Ferguson glanced at them.

“Has Manchester United focused on defense as the core of our training for the past three seasons like Nottingham Forest?”

Everyone stared blankly and then shook their heads.

“Tonight’s the game, and now you’re asking to play defensive counterattack? I can see that we will be the ones to break down at the end instead. Manchester United’s football is what it is, there’s no need to learn from others,” Ferguson declared haughtily. He did have the confidence to say that. As the creator and guardian of the Red Devils dynasty, Manchester United had their own style. Wouldn’t they become a clown that followed the herd if they emulated others?

“All right, keep training!” Ferguson stood up and said to the silent Queiroz. “You send the video of yesterday’s game and the first leg of the two teams’ game to me. When tonight’s game is over, we’ll take a good look at them.”

Queiroz nodded.

※※※

“I’m not surprised that Nottingham Forest was able to reach the finals. I think that Tony Twain doesn’t play like an Englishman. He plays more like us, like an Italian.” Surround by a large number of reporters in the hotel, Ancelotti and the reporters quickly got to last night’s game.

“Other than that, I don’t have other views on it.” Carlo Ancelotti acted prudently before the big game. Moreover, he did not want everyone to focus on another team that had nothing to do with them.

“Tonight’s game? I respect Ferguson, but in the end the winner will be AC Milan.”

Ancelotti quickly finished the interview and got up to walk to the elevator. He wanted to go back to his room to rest for a while. It was just after noon. He wanted to take the time to grab a noon break so that he could keep his mind clear for the game tonight.

A “ding” sounded and the elevator door in front of him slowly opened. He was taken aback when he saw a person.

Twain was just chatting with Dunn in the elevator while they waited for the door to open. When the door had just opened a gap, he saw the man standing outside the door.

“Ha.” Twain laughed. “What a coincidence,” he said to Dunn. “It turns out that this is the hotel that AC Milan is staying in. I thought they all stayed in their own places.”

“Any team is the same, Tony,” Dunn reminded him. “Before a game, it’s the training ground, the hotel, and the stadium. Three points in a line.”

Ancelotti saw Twain and his assistant manager talking and laughing, and his face changed for the worse.

He did not feel uncomfortable because he ran into Twain, but because his team was staying there and now the opponent’s manager was also staying there. Could it be he wanted to take a close peek at his team’s latest movements?

Seeing the look on Ancelotti’s face, Twain hurriedly raised his hands and explained in English, regardless of whether the other man could understand them. “Ah, don’t worry, Mr. Ancelotti. Even though I have a good personal relationship with Ferguson, I’m not a free intelligence agent. This is a complete coincidence… A wonderful coincidence… Hey!”

He had just finished and had not even put his hands down when a flash exploded in front of his eyes.

When his eyes returned to normal, he saw a photojournalist clicking away in succession with a digital camera, giving him a thumbs up.

“This is a good pose!” the curly-haired male reporter, with accented English, said.

Twain creased his brows and his face was suddenly uglier than Ancelotti’s.

“FU-” Twain had intended to use the internationally-used word to scold when he saw that the elevator door in front of him was closing — because no one came in or out, the door was about to close automatically.

“…CK!” When the last syllable came out, the door had just tightly shut.

By the time Dunn pressed the door open again, the photojournalist had disappeared, and Ancelotti was no longer waiting for the elevator. Perhaps he switched to another one.

“Damn it!” Twain scolded in Chinese, “That bastard Italian reporter! Better not let me see him again!”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to kill him if you see him again?” asked Dunn.

“No, I’ll make things difficult for him!” Twain gritted his teeth. “Let’s go back. I’m not in the damn mood for shopping!” With that, he turned around to walk back into the elevator and pressed the floor button.

Dunn shook his head and hurried in.

※※※

That night, the second semi-final game was held at San Siro Stadium, where the home team, AC Milan fought in the pouring rain and made full use of their home-field advantage to bombard the Manchester United team.

The final score was 3:1, with the home team first and the visitors second, according to international practice.

Ferguson’s Manchester United suffered a crushing away defeat at the hands of AC Milan. In a good form, Kaka managed to score two goals and assisted Seedorf to score another goal. Whereas Scholes took advantage of AC Milan relaxing its defenses to score a face-saving goal for Manchester United at the last minute with a long shot.

This game was hyped by the media as a direct contest between the two young talents, Kaka and Cristiano Ronaldo before the game. It was also a clash that was likely to decide the outcome of the selection for the FIFA World Player of the Year at the end of the year.

Eventually, in the heavy rain, Brazil’s Kaka won against Cristiano Ronaldo from Portugal. With the exception of a yellow card in the 84th minute, Ronaldo accomplished nothing and was powerless in the face of AC Milan’s momentum.

With a total score 5:4, AC Milan knocked out Manchester United and advanced to the finals.

Twain’s promise to give Albertini the “perfect farewell game” was just around the corner.

※※※

The day after the game, the image La Gazzetta dello Sport published in a prominent placement was not of the game, but a photograph taken in a hotel.

In the photo, the Nottingham Forest manager, who had also advanced into the Champions League final, had his arms raised toward the AC Milan manager, Carlo Ancelotti, as if in surrender.

The caption below was: Nottingham Forest bows down to AC Milan!

This photo caused a stir as soon as it came out, with a number of Italian media reprinted and posted it prominently. Italy mocked England’s Nottingham Forest Football Club and Tony Twain became a public laughing stock overnight.

“I’ve never seen a manager who raised his hands before a game in surrender. Thanks to Tony Twain, we have seen it for the first time!”

A day later, as a rebuttal, the Nottingham Evening Post published an article called “An exclusive interview with the Forest manager” which seemed to be a long article judging from the name, but there was only one sentence in the actual content:

“Tony Twain: If I can’t defeat AC Milan and win the Champions League title, then I’ll jump into the Aegean Sea!”