Godfather Of Champions

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

While everyone was still discussing the thrilling game last night with exhilaration, the Nottingham Forest players were already doing their adaptive training at Stamford Bridge.

Twain did not let the team do closed-door training this time. Reporters gathered at Stamford Bridge, hoping to see what the Forest team had been up to these few days behind closed doors.

The result disappointed them. Twain did not carry out any tactical drills in such a public setting. Other than basic shooting drills, he just made the players run laps.

Obviously, the reporters would not completely lose hope. After the training, there was a pre-match press conference to be attended by the two managers at the same time. At the meeting, both Twain and Mourinho would answer questions from the reporters. At that time, they could ask any questions they had and let the two arrogant and standoffish managers answer.

Unlike the last time they came to Chelsea to play in the league tournament, the Forest players looked serious. They all knew what an important game it was for their coaches, the team they played for, and themselves.

George Wood was always the most serious player during training. Even if it was just running laps, he ran at the front, which captured everyone's attention. At first, there were people who thought he deliberately wanted to steal the limelight. Later, they discovered that he behaved like this in every instance and got used to it.

Even watching him run so hard, no one suggested for him to take a break. The game was the same night, but everyone had a lot of confidence in Wood's stamina.

The reporters who took the photographs on the sidelines quickly tired of the monotonous drill. They did not come to see people running.

A few bolder reporters came up with the intention to interview Twain on site. This was permitted, but because Twain always gave off an unapproachable vibe, the reporters were unsure whether Twain would accept their interview.

It was only after Twain realized that there were a few more people next to him that he shifted his eyes from the field to his side.

It turned out to be the reporters, which included two of his old acquaintances — Pierce Brosnan and Tang Jing.

Casting an unfriendly glance at them, Twain turned his head back.

"Isn't it just fifteen minutes of public time?" He muttered.

"There are still five minutes left." Next to him, Dunn replied with a laugh, as he knew what he meant.

"Hmm…" Twain stroked his chin and said, "let the boys run for another five minutes."

As the fitness coach led the team to run past in front of the coaching staff and was about to hand over the team to Twain, he saw Dunn gesture to him to continue. He was a little surprised, but did it anyway.

Someone in the team made a sound of lament that they had fallen victim to the confrontation between the boss and the media. Only George Wood looked the same as usual and led the run.

"What did this kid eat while he was growing up…" Ribery looked at Wood's back and frowned. "Monster!"

Within the five minutes, a reporter finally asked Twain some questions about the evening's semi-final game: how the Forest team planned to deal with Chelsea, would the Forest team still insist on playing defensive counterattack, who was on the Forest team's starting list and so on.

Twain's answers were perfunctory with regards to this.

"Tonight's game? You will find out when you get to this evening. Is it necessary to ask that now?"

The answer left the reporters frustrated.

"Mr. Twain, it's true that we will know when the game comes. But our readers also need some news to keep them excited for tonight's game…" The BBC reporter took the lead. All the other reporters nodded and agreed.

Twain did not want to fall out with the media. After all, he still had a lot of uses for them in the future. He glanced at the training ground. The players were still running laps, which was unplanned physical training.

"Ah, I see. To be honest, there is nothing to talk about. We are an old opponent of Chelsea. I am as familiar with Mr. Mourinho as I would be with my wife… Of course, that is if I had a wife." His remark amused the reporters present. "Similarly, I believe Mr. Mourinho knows me as well as he knows his wife. This is a game without any secrets to speak of. Both sides compete with real strength and not some other complicated things… do you understand now that I've put it this way?"

The reporters nodded.

"Therefore, you see, our training is no different than usual. Speaking of which, I'd like to switch with Mr. Ferguson. We played Arsenal in the semi-finals last season and this season we play against Chelsea. We had been going around in circles within the country. It really does not feel like we're playing in the UEFA Champions League. I would also like to take this opportunity to travel abroad."

There was another burst of laughter. The atmosphere looked pretty good.

Just as the reporters felt there was more questions to be asked, Twain raised his arm and pointed to the watch on his wrist. "I'm sorry, the open interview time is over, my friends."

It was as if everyone woke up from a dream. Twain was here beating around the bush only to talk nonsense the entire time just so that he could use up the time.

When the annoying reporters were directed by security guards and had reluctantly left the grounds, Twain stopped the team from running laps and then sat them down to rest as he stood in the middle to speak to everyone.

"Five minutes doesn't squeeze you dry, is it?" Twain pointed to the panting Ribery and said, "if you still want to pretend, you'll be on the bench, Franck."

Ribery's breathing immediately evened out. Next to him, someone laughed.

The starting lineup had been announced, and Ribery, who was in a good shape, was on it.

"I don't have to say much. You all know what tonight's game is. If anyone else thinks it's just a regular league tournament, you can raise your hand now. We still have time to wake you up. Answer me out loud. What damn game are we're playing tonight?"

"Championship League!"

Everyone roared in unison.

"Very good! This is a knockout game. We've worked hard the entire season. But once we lose, it will be for f**king nothing! No one will sympathize with us. I believe you have fully realized the cruelty in this world. The flowers, applause, and glory belong only to the victors, and the losers get nothing! I do this job not because I want to serve as a background for someone else, and you're not playing football to be a stepping stone to the winner! Nottingham Forest's football is the winning kind. The kind of football that you don't win is nothing! Nothing!" Twain stomped hard at the turf beneath his feet, as if he could trample and sink Stamford Bridge. "We've never lost to Chelsea and it should be Chelsea who is feeling scared, not us. Let's show them our best tonight!"

With the inspiring speech over, Twain asked Dunn to come forward and explain the specific tactics to the players. Dunn, who was more professional in this job, was clearly more suitable than himself.

Dunn stepped forward and held the tactical board to explain to each of the players around him the tactics for this game and their individual tasks, even including the substitutes. This sort of meticulous work was more suitable for people like Dunn to do.

In fact, the explanation of tactics was a thankless job. Before Dunn came along, it was Kerslake who did it. After Dunn came, he could not wait to dump the work on Dunn, the newbie.

Because the players had their own ideas and would want to play those on the field. However, the tactics were unlikely to cover of everyone's preferences, and someone was bound to resent the arrangements, and that dissatisfaction would be vented at the coach who came forward to set the tactics for them. If Twain needed Anelka to defend and when Dunn went to Anelka, the French striker would certainly give Dunn attitude.

If a bad-tempered coach were to do it, the likelihood of a quarrel between the two sides would be higher. Dunn's character was slightly softer, so he was the most appropriate person to execute this. He only did this as a job. No matter how the players treated him, those faces simply could get into his eyes and head.

Obviously, the managers could do these tasks themselves. But Twain's idea was this: since I've got an assistant manager I'm paying, I will get them to do everything that I can hand over. Able people do more work…

After Dunn spent half an hour telling all the players the specific tactics and details, the team continued to train. This time, Twain carried out the tactical drill in the absence of media presence. They specifically practiced all the tactics that had just been laid out for them to see how much they had grasped.

After the training, the players showered in the locker room led by the assistant managers, and Twain went straight to the press conference venue, where the reporters and his opponent were waiting for him.

※※※

The two rivals bumped into each other at the entrance to the press conference, and it looked like a chance encounter.

"Are you so scared that you have to have a closed-door training, Mr. Twain?" Mourinho raised the first question. "Are there still any secrets left between us?"

Twain snorted. "A team that has never lost to Chelsea will be never be afraid of Chelsea. Thank you for the joke, Mr. Mourinho, even though it's a little corny."

Not being able to beat Twain grated on Mourinho. Twain hoped to anger his opponent, but apparently Mourinho was also an expert in psychological warfare and was unmoved. He just shrugged and said, "it's not a joke. You'll know when the game is played."

"You're right, since you'll know too when you play. Why are we talking nonsense here? Let's just go out for a drink together." Twain pointed to the exit and turned to leave.

"I don't think the reporters in there will agree." Mourinho pointed to the entrance of the press conference instead.

"Well, you have a point, too." Twain turned spun back around. He made a gesture and said, "after you, Mr. Mourinho."

Mourinho simply accepted it and pushed the door open to enter. Twain followed close behind.

Because the two leading characters had arrived, the press conference quickly quieted down. After the two men were seated, everyone eagerly raised their hands.

Twain and Mourinho met gazes at the same time. Such animated media made them feel a little confused about what to do.

During a press conference at the sensitive time before a game, Twain always insisted on one principle: Taichi. Whatever he could push away, he would push and whatever he could skirt around, he would. He would ramble incoherently and not touch on the main point. It was only for a while, and things were okay when it was over and done with.

He sat down and leisurely looked at the host gather the forces to assign the tasks.

Overall, the questions were evenly distributed to the two managers. No one would feel that they had been snubbed, and no one would be tired of answering too many questions.

Most of the questions Twain and Mourinho needed to answer were about which star players would appear on the evening's starting list, how a player's condition had been recently, or how recent injuries would affect performance, or other normal questions.

Twain was not surprised because he knew that they had not arrived at the real core portion yet. According to usual practice, the media always asked the questions about the information required for the general layout first to ensure that the next day's newspaper would not be left with a large blank in the pages. They would only ask the few pointed questions at the end to put the managers on the spot.

He was somewhat distracted in dealing with the routine questions that had been thrown at him while he calculated in his head how long it would take before he could leave. Until Tang Jing stood up when she was finally selected after she held her hand up for a long time.

"Hello, I am Tang Jing, a reporter for China's Titan Sports. I have three questions." Tang Jing stood up and said in English, "first of all, Nottingham Forest has not lost to Chelsea since Manager Twain started coaching the team. This is the third contest between both sides this season. Is Manager Twain confident in continuing his unbeaten record? Second, if I remember correctly, Manager Twain had said before this season that the Forest team's goal is the Champions League title this season. I would love to ask Manager Twain where you got your confidence from at that time. Thirdly, there have been rumors that you and Mr. Mourinho are at odds. Do you intend to admit this?"

All of a sudden, all eyes were on the Chinese reporter.

He did not think that Tang Jing would ask these three questions. Twain viewed her with some surprise, while Mourinho directed his gaze at Twain beside him.

"Please answer, Mr. Twain." When she saw that Twain did not speak, Tang Jing smiled as she reminded him.

"Tsk. Firstly, I don't think that it's a good thing to lose to Chelsea. If I could maintain the unbeaten record against this team, it would obviously be good. I think you're asking an obvious question. No manager would say 'I think we might lose' when he answered such a question. Secondly, I can tell you that my confidence was from a dream. Can you believe it, Miss Chinese Reporter? I woke up one day and felt someone whispered in my ear — you are certain to get the UEFA Champions League title this season. Can you believe it or not?"

A reporter could not help but laugh.

Tang Jing turned around and glared at the direction of the laughter.

"You ask me where my confidence comes from, and I'll tell you it comes from my team. Are you satisfied with this answer? We were supposed to be the European champion last season. My players have that ability. I'm their manager so I'm well aware of this. I'm clearer on this than anyone else here."

"As for the third question …" Twain turned his head to look at Mourinho and found Mourinho looking at him as well, so he turned his head back immediately.

"How my personal relationship with Mr. Mourinho has nothing to do with this game. so I refuse to answer." He stared at Tang Jing as he spoke each word.

"How can it be unrelated? If this game were to be another opponent, how much do you want to win? What are the odds of success?" Tang Jing was not willing to let go so she continued to ask questions.

"You've used up your three questions, Miss Tang." said Twain with a cold expression. He did not intend to continue his entanglement with Tang Jing.

In the end, Mourinho stepped up to mediate between the two of them and said, "I think this lady… missed the point of the issue. The point is not who our opponent is, but what kind of game it is. For Chelsea, no matter who the opponent is, as long as this is a crucial game, we will never be allowed to fail."

Twain sat next to him without talking, but he agreed tacitly with Mourinho's assertion in his mind. It was rare for him to find common ground with Mourinho.

Tang Jing glanced at the silent Twain and accepted Mourinho's answer. She sat back down and did not raise her hand to ask questions again.

She had intended to use the three questions for Mourinho again, but there was no longer a need to.

The host was keenly aware that the atmosphere of the press conference was in an irregular plight, so he wisely ended it.

After he came down from the stage, Twain specifically walked towards Mourinho and said, "I can't believe we have something in common. I completely agree with your answer for that woman. Well, how about it? Since we have something in common, would you like to go for a drink together?"

He was not sincere about inviting Mourinho to a drink. He just did it to look like he was gracious. At the same time, he was using psychological warfare before the crucial game.

Mourinho also knew Twain's mind. If he answered "okay," it would certainly embarrass Twain, but he would not do such a thing. It was not that he did not want to embarrass Twain. He just did not want to drink with Twain at all. It was the same case as anyone not wanting to date someone they disliked.

"Even though I'd love for you to buy me a drink, I think if we do sit down and have a drink together one day… Mr. Twain, can you guess when that will be?" said Mourinho.

"When?" asked Twain.

"After you and I both retire." Mourinho walked away.

※※※

"After days of waiting… the game is finally about to start!" Kerslake muttered excitedly in the bus.

Through the window on his side was the Stamford Bridge stadium, which had fallen into a frenzy.

The blue colors of the Chelsea fans and the red colors of the Nottingham Forest fans streamed in from all directions and congregated in the stadium. They surged forward and then spread out before they accumulated their strength and rushed towards each other again, their fervor swept across the space as far as the eye could see.

That was the charm of the world's first movement. No matter the identity of these fans in their daily lives — the head of the company, the vulgar City of Xiao Min, a professor in an institution of higher learning, or a quiet teenager — after stepping into the stadium, they turned into the same creature — fans who were dominated by primitive emotions.

They had lost all rationality. Only by defeating their opponents could they calm down.

Alcohol was the best catalyst for such a mood. Countless people held up their beer cups and shouted their teams' slogans, wanting to make their opponents retreat at all costs.

"Chelsea! Chelsea! We're champions! We're destined to be the European champions!"

"You'll have to go through us first, you shits!"

"The Double belongs to the blue Chelsea! The reds can go to hell!"

"We're the strongest team! Nottingham-Forest Forest!"

"You only used to be, Nottingham bumpkins!"

"Sodding upstarts from London, you've never been!"

"We're f**king rich! Richer than you poor bastards!"

These verbal provocations and clashes took place in every corner of the stadium. The police were on guard for every possible danger and made a desperate bid to maintain order on the scene.

"I like this clamor." Twain, who got out of the bus, looked around at the chaotic square and nodded as he exclaimed, "clear and audible foul language, sweat and spit, and the smell of alcohol… Awesome!" He raised his fists to the Nottingham Forest fans who were waiting. The action drew cheers from the Forest fans. These people liked to see Twain strut around on his opponent's territory.

Naturally, when he received the approval of his own people, he would also be at the receiving end of his opponent's vitriol. On the other side, there was a lot of swearing and booing at Twain from the Chelsea fans' camp.

Nottingham Forest was the most unique out of the twenty teams in the English Premier League. When the other teams went to play on their archrivals' territories, the players would bear the brunt of being booed and abused by the opposing fans. Only on this team, the players were all right, and the one who received the most ferocious abuse was their manager, Tony Twain.

Some fans had even come up with a number of offensive songs to target at Twain.

Hearing the Chelsea fans' swearing and hissing, the Nottingham Forest fans immediately reacted. They started shouting loudly at Twain. Even though it appeared as if they were saying it to Twain, they made sure the entire stadium could hear them clearly.

"Hey, Tony! Go ahead and bring us another damn victory!"

"You're not afraid of that guy, Mourinho, right?!"

"Tony, if you can take down Chelsea, I'll buy you a drink when we return! You can drink as much as you want!"

Twain walked with the players between both sides of fans and the Nottingham Forest fans kept trying to break through the police blockade to pat Twain on the shoulder as if they wanted to pin their hopes on the man.

On the other side, it was like a forest of middle fingers and gaping mouths ready to emit the word "f**k."

It was truly a clash of fire and ice.

Twain walked in the middle of the flames and the ocean with a smile on his face, all the way to the visitors' locker room.

Although he seemed calm in appearance, he in fact felt explosive on the inside. like a volcanic eruption waiting for a suitable moment to spew out fiery red lava to turn the cold sea water into steam.

"The boss is so cool…" Gareth Bale could not help exclaiming as he looked at Twain's back from the back of the line.

※※※

The players got dressed, warmed up, and returned.

Their preparations were all done and Twain stood before the eleven fully prepped players, with the substitute players, coaches, and team doctors behind him.

"Coach Dunn has given you the detailed arrangement of the specific tactics and we have already decided how we are going to play in this game during training a week ago. Everyone is in good form and all okay with your stamina. There's also no major injuries. We've been preparing for so long that all the preparations have been done." Twain clapped and continued, "what else is lacking? Just the ninety-minute game, and… a victory."

Then he motioned to everyone — the starting eleven players in front of him and the substitutes and coaches behind him — to surround him, arms around shoulders and heads bowed. Standing in the middle, he looked at the men and said to them, "remember, do not think about how Chelsea leads us in the league tournament, don't care about whether they have any hope of winning the league now, and disregard how strong they are. They are definitely not our ultimate rivals. This is the semi-finals, guys. Our goal is not just the insignificant Stamford Bridge. Athens is where we're going. Don't you dare stop until you set foot on the Olympic Stadium of Athens! You're not allowed to stop until you pick up the UEFA Champions League trophy! You're not permitted to stop until I say 'okay!' Any opponent that dares to stand in our way, whether it be Barcelona, AC Milan, Inter Milan, Real Madrid, or Chelsea — kill them all!" He swung his hand down as if he were holding a sword.

"Kill them!"

A wild roar erupted in the visitors' locker room.