Godfather Of Champions

No one had thought that Javier Zanetti would suddenly give up his position and rush to the middle of the midfield to fight for the ball. Even his teammates had not expected it.

Cambiasso was surprised to see the captain intercept the ball from under Albertini's foot, and then watched him dribble the ball to the center circle.

"This is Inter Milan's counterattack! At the final moment!"

The stands in the Meazza stadium erupted into earthshattering cheers.

"Javier Zanetti! He's still fighting in the final moments of the game!"

Albertini was startled when he saw the football under his foot suddenly fly out. Then he saw his old opponent's back, Inter Milan's number 4, who flitted past him.

He wanted to fall back to defend. The ball was snatched from him. If Inter Milan made use of this chance to score, then he would become a sinner. He could never let this happen!

But just as he was about to run, he saw another figure dash from his side.

It was definitely not another Inter Milan player to the rescue. The figure was clad in red. It was number 13!

"After their intense offense, Nottingham Forest's rear is empty! This is Inter Milan's best chance. If they get 3:1, they can eliminate Nottingham with peace of mind. Oh, no! George Wood… Good heavens, he's really fast! Did he just start to play?!"

George Wood sprinted toward Zanetti dribbling the ball. Watching him run at his full speed was like watching a leopard chasing its prey.

"Son of a b**ch! Go up and help him!" Mancini bellowed off the field without caring whether the players on the field could hear him clearly in such a noisy environment.

Twain also rushed to the sidelines, but he did not call for his players to withdraw and defend. He waved his hands forward!

"Don't fall back! Dammit! Charge forward! Losing by one ball is still a loss, losing two is still a f**king loss! This is our last chance… George, take the f**king ball!"

In a flash, Wood caught up with Zanetti.

The Inter Milan captain had the ready-for-battle Pepe in front of him, and George Wood was closing in on his side. He knew for certain that he could not rely on his speed or force a breakthrough to get rid of the defense. It was not going to work. He was not the type of player who used speed. But if he stopped to hold the ball and wait for the support of his teammates, perhaps the opponents would fall back into place. That would put the football in his team's possession, and they could drag out the game to the end. But Zanetti did not want to do it. If they only won by one goal in their home game, then when they played the away game, as long as the opponents won by 1:0, Inter Milan would be eliminated. For the safety of the team, in order to ensure that they could advance, it was imperative that they got as much of a goal difference as possible at home.

This was their last chance to attack before the game ended. He must seize it!

The fourth official appeared between the two referees. He raised the sign for the injury stoppage extra time. But almost no one looked at him. Everyone was focused on the sudden changes on the field.

"Three minutes of injury stoppage time. Inter Milan is in attack mode…If this ball gets in, Nottingham Forest will have conceded two goals. It will also be a tough fight when they return to their home ground. But if..."

The commentator had finished speaking when George Wood spotted a slightly bigger gap in Zanetti's dribbling. He suddenly powered on and rushed to overtake him. Then he shoveled the ball with his foot and intercepted it from Zanetti. Before he could kick the football again, Wood jabbed it to Pepe!

Zanetti, who was unable to stop in time, kicked Wood in the thigh, staggered, and then fell forward.

"Foul!" A huge roar broke out in the stands.

The referee raised his right hand as he ran over. He shook his extended forefinger.

"Well played!"

All of a sudden, the roar turned deafening and heart-stopping.

Pepe easily received the ball from Wood. He had initially wanted to shoot a long ball straight ahead because most of the Forest players had not had time to fall back. Furthermore, a long pass was the most time-saving way when they were trying to quickly equalize the score.

However, he saw that George Wood had already got up from the ground and was waving to him.

Waving?

What did that mean?

"Give me the ball!" Unable to stand it any longer, Wood finally shouted when he saw Pepe staring blankly at him.

Though Pepe passed the football over, he was still in doubt that he had heard wrong. Since when did Wood show such strong initiative to take the ball?

Wood received Pepe's pass, but he did not kick a long ball forward. It was largely empty in front of him. The Inter Milan players had just from shifted from defense to offense and now suddenly had to change back from offense to defense. The players had not reacted yet, so no one came up to defend against him.

At the same time, in the stands, a faint song suddenly rang out amidst the deafening hiss. It was certainly not a song to cheer for Inter Milan. It was the singing voices of two thousand Nottingham Forest fans. The singing was intermittent and always drowned out by the Inter Milan fans' boos and roars, but not completely submerged. Like a small boat wrestling with the wind and waves, a wave would knock it into the water, and it would still emerge from underneath. The storm could toss it into the air and thwack it into the water, but it could not capsize it or make it disappear.

Martins used his speed to chase Wood. He quickly caught up with his target but was completely at a disadvantage when up against Wood! He had wanted to use a tactical foul from behind to stop Nottingham Forest's counterattack. But he had not expected that when he struck, Wood would only stagger, whereas Martins himself completely lost his balance and fell to the ground.

The boos in the stands got even louder. The Inter Milan fans had already decided that each time one of their players was in a physical confrontation with Wood, it must be Wood's foul if their player fell. The referee would not penalize because that cunning player's dirty tricks were well-concealed.

Wood staggered a little, but he soon steadied the football.

At that time, he suddenly did not worry about how he was going to pass the ball because he simply did not care.

He saw the empty tracts in front, so he decided to dribble the ball forward.

Albertini saw the scene up ahead. He paused for a moment before he suddenly turned and ran forward. The Inter Milan players had closely marked the usual Forest offense players. If George suddenly inserted himself, he would be able to disrupt the opponents' defenses. In that case, he or anyone else would have a chance. Now it was down to whether Wood could see it, think of it, and pass the ball.

Wood dribbled the ball in a straight line. Finally, someone came up to defend against him: Júlio Ricardo Cruz.

As a striker, Cruz's defensive standard was underwhelming. George Wood just poked the football beside Cruz, used force to kick the ball, and then ramped up his speed. He just bypassed the Argentine.

Wood bypassed the player easily, but he did not have the time to gloat over his success.

Instead, Cruz remained rooted on the spot. He had not thought that Wood would be so fast. He had just made a turn and Wood, who was two meters away, had already swept past. It was not that he did not want to react, like reaching out with his hand or extending his foot to trip him; he just could not respond in time!

Relying on his speed to bypass Cruz, George Wood was already close to Inter Milan's heavily guarded penalty area. This time, if he blindly barged in, there would probably be only one result: the ball would be cut off.

Wood was not a fool. He slowed down, but he still moved forward. As Cambiasso looked at George Wood, already close at hand, he recalled the profile of this opponent from before the game, which highlighted his defensive abilities. As to his offensive standards, it was glossed over with one remark: "When the Forest team attacks, you guys can treat it that he doesn't exist." His previous performance during this game also proved that point. If not, how did we get in our first goal? Didn't Juan rush forward to intercept this kid's ball?

If Juan can do it, why can't I?

I don't know what's the matter with this kid that he thinks he can dribble the ball and tear open our defenses. He must be out of his mind!

I'll finish you, boy.

Because he was the nearest Inter Milan player to him, Cambiasso rushed up.

Wood's dribbling looked like he had done it to a T. His basic drills were done properly, but he was too rigid.

Cambiasso knew that Wood was stout. He did not intend to slam against him like that fool, Materazzi. Stealing a ball also required some scheming. I just have to let you think that I want to intercept the ball directly to force you to make a move. Then I can look for an opportunity to cut off your clumsy dribbling.

Take a good look, kid.

Cambiasso extended his leg as if he was going to poke at the football. As long as Wood jabbed the football out in panic according to his estimation, he would immediately turn his body to wedge into position. After he intercepted the football, he would organize the counterattack. Zanetti, Martins, Adriano, and Cruz were still in front and had not returned. This was truly a great opportunity to launch a counterattack against the Forest team.

George Wood was also in a bind. He had dribbled the ball to this point in one shot. What should he do next? The front was full of people now, and there was a bald man trying to rob his ball. Wood knew that if he did not pass the football and the ball remained at his feet, then there was a good chance that it would be intercepted again. The best scenario would be if he immediately fouled after the opponent robbed the ball to delay the Inter Milan offense.

That was not the result he wanted. He hoped that the Forest team could equalize the score. Why else would he dribble the ball from the backfield and dash over thirty meters to do something that he wasn't good at?

As he was trying to figure out what to do, he saw a red figure flash ahead and disappear into the blue-black clad crowd.

"If you don't know how to pass, then pass the ball to the teammates you see. It's that simple."

He did not see his teammates around, except for that red figure.

The bald opposing player was about to make a move, and another figure clad in blue and black also rushed up. They looked like they were going to double-team him and try to intercept the ball to fight back. There's no time to consider, just do it!

Cambiasso's toe tips were very close to the football. He did not poke directly at the football. Instead, he went around to the side of the ball. In that way, when Wood kicked the ball out, it would naturally be intercepted. But he overlooked something.

English boy, your show time is over… Huh?

Wood did indeed kick the ball aside when Cambiasso made it look like he was going to steal. But it was not a rush to thrust the ball before a breakthrough, but a direct pass! And, most importantly, the one thing that Cambiasso did not expect was that the football drilled through in between his legs! In order to successfully intercept the ball, Cambiasso spread his legs apart widely, but he did not expect to open a path for Wood instead!

But in the crowded penalty area, who did he pass the football to?

"Albertini!"

Nottingham Forest's number 4 suddenly appeared in the middle of the defensive line, and because there was no Inter Milan player dedicated to marking him, he received George Wood's direct pass!

The Inter Milan players had never imagined that Albertini would suddenly appear here, and much less thought that George Wood, who had never performed well in offense, could pass such a piercing shot!

Albertini extended his foot to take the ball and then simply turned. He could already see the goal very clearly. He could see the goalkeeper Júlio Cesar's mixed expression of alarm and astonishment plainly.

You didn't think of this, did you, Inter Milan boys?

Nice work, George! I knew you could do it!

"Don't let him in, block him!" Materazzi shouted as he rushed up. They were now in the penalty area. He definitely would not use a foul to stop the shot, but he believed that he would be able to obstruct Albertini's goal if he leaned against him. He remembered very clearly the sight of Albertini holding his knee in the front field while gasping for breath. With this level of physical strength, he just had to exert a little impact, and that could cause him to miss the shot.

I can't run anymore, and I don't have the strength to return to defend. I've not been substituted because my manager and teammates trust me. Before this game, Chief said that he would let me play the entire game. I can't end the game without showing any results.

Materazzi, when I played in San Siro, you were still a kid in some low-level team. I'm the master here!

I'm Demetrio Albertini. This is my way!

Albertini swung his leg to shoot, and Materazzi bolted to block with his leg raised high. But he missed his target because it was just a feint. The Nottingham Forest's number 4, once Inter Milan's number 4, overly lifted his leg, and then buckled down. He flashed past Materazzi, but Samuel also rushed over. Looking at his appearance, it seemed that as long as Albertini lifted his leg again, he would have the opportunity to kick the football out.

But Albertini would not give him the chance. He raised his leg to directly shoot into the goal!

The football flew between Samuel and Materazzi. It was not fast, and not very powerful, but it was sudden enough! It flew in an arc and bypassed Júlio Cesar's hands. Then it went downwards, drilled into the goal, and hit the net.

"A terrific goal!"

"Oh my god! Nottingham Forest scores an equalizer at the last minute!"

"GOOOAL!"

"Demetrio Albertini, the Nottingham Forest captain, captures the city of Inter Milan!"

"Nottingham Forest strikes back, and they've won! Two away goals! Two!"

Twain rushed out of his seat. He repeatedly waved his fists vigorously and showed off at Inter Milan's home ground.

Albertini found it hard to suppress his inner excitement. He turned and ran towards Wood. He hugged him and then excitedly pulled him down to the ground.

"Thank you, George! Thank you!"

"Beautiful job, captain!" Eastwood sprang forward as more of his teammates leaped forward and stacked on top of one another. Even the veteran, Edwin van der Sar, came running from the goal post and jumped up while he waved his fists.

"George Wood's assist was a complete surprise. Look at the excitement of the Forest team. It's as if they have already been promoted. Two away goals are enough to make the English players leave Italy with a smile."

The boos, abuses, and roars in the Meazza stadium were gone. Only the singing voices of the two thousand English people rang out in the stadium. The storm was over, and that small boat was still floating. The sun was shining on the boat after the storm had passed.

"We are the best team in England! We are the best team in the world!"

They were such arrogant lyrics, but looking at the scene on the field now, no one would think of the word "arrogant."

They had really done it.

They had equalized the score with Inter Milan! Two away goals were worth thousands!

Mancini's face was ashen, and his lips were white from biting. He seemed to be able to foresee what situation he and his team would face in England a week later.

Oh, f**k… Son of a b**ch!

※※※

The Nottingham Forest players' crazy celebration required the referee's intervention so that the game could continue. But with less than two minutes left, it was pointless.

After Inter Milan kicked off, it was a long shot to the front field, in hopes that the Recoba would be able to receive the ball. But the kick used too much force, and the ball flew directly out of the sidelines. They handed over the possession of the ball in vain.

What happened next was simple. Albertini returned to the backfield and used his technique and experience to keep the football firmly at the Forest team's feet. He was not in a hurry to kick forward. He slowly whiled away the remaining time.

When the referee blew the whistle at the end of the game, the Nottingham Forest players held their arms aloft and celebrated on the field while the Inter Milan players slung back to the locker room with their heads lowered. For decorum's sake, Mancini had to come up to shake hands with Twain.

"Congratulations, Mr. Twain." Despite being dissatisfied with the score, Mancini still congratulated Twain with a smile on his face.

Twain obviously knew that Mancini's smile was forced and that he would not be in the mood to smile with this outcome. Therefore, he tactfully gave a short and simple reply and the two men parted. Mancini was interviewed by several reporters in the mixed zone, and then he hurried away.

On the other hand, Twain went onto the field to celebrate the "victorious draw" with his players.

Albertini led the players to thank the English fans who had traveled from afar. George Wood was next to him.

He thought of the last goal. I really did not expect Wood to send out that kind of shot. Was I dreaming?

But regardless of the process, the outcome was still a good thing. He got the desired results, so he did not care too much about how Wood had achieved that pass.

Watching the celebrating players, Twain did not want to disturb them, so he turned and walked towards the players' tunnel.

The inside of his pocket vibrated. It was his cell phone. He put it on vibrate during games.

There were two text messages. The first one was sent by Clarice Gloria.

"The game was a success, and that last goal was perfect. Thank you for your support and cooperation these days, Mr. Twain. May you go even further in the Champions League."

Twain replied with one sentence: "I want to thank you too, Miss Gloria." Then he looked at the next message.

It was not a text message, but a multimedia message.

Appearing on the screen of Twain's cell phone was a selfie.

Shania stood in front of the camera with a happy smile and made a peace sign with her hand. Behind her was the jam-packed Meazza stadium stand. On the far end was a grandstand in a sea of red, which was the assemblage of Nottingham Forest fans.

Twain looked up and turned his eyes to the stands. The fans were already leaving. He could not find Shania in the mass of people in the stands.

But it did not matter.

The important thing was that Twain had had faith that Shania would come, and Shania had come.