Godfather Of Champions

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

The open-top double-decker bus, used for the celebration parade, was parked outside the airport terminal. Surrounded by a large number of fans and reporters, the Forest team walked out of the airport terminal and boarded the bus.

Waiting with the bus were the four police cars that had come from Nottingham to escort them. They were the pride of the city of Nottingham, and the mobilization of the police force was not too much to ask.

A convoy of four police cars and an open-top double-decker bus slowly hit the road amid the cheers and they would cruise back to Nottingham from there.

After they turned onto the M1 motorway from the airport, the players soon found that the bus was followed by a special fleet of cars. The fleet did not have a unified type of vehicle. They were made of various large and small vehicles in a variety of brands and models. The Forest team's red team flags hung on the bodies of all the cars. Although the cars were driven on the motorway, a number of fans still leaned out of the car windows and waved their arms. Because the Forest team bus was not going very fast, the speed of the cars at the back was not fast either, so there was no fear of any traffic accidents… They turned out to be the fans who had just welcomed the team at the airport. They were escorting the team back to Nottingham.

It was not the first time that Twain had experienced this. After he and the team won the EFL Cup in Cardiff, they were also escorted to Nottingham in such a manner.

It was just that there were not so many people. After all, the EFL Cup and the UEFA Champions League were not on the same level at all in terms of glory.

The players happily waved hello to the fans below. The fans kept honking their horns.

The convoy slowed down on the motorway and drove slowly on the side so that the other passing vehicles had to overtake.

A steady stream of people went to the upper deck of the bus to catch the breeze, wave to the fans, and receive their accolades and cheers. Likewise, a constant stream of people also came back down after they had their fill.

Twain remained at the lower deck. He had been busy since yesterday and for the better half of today. He would continue to be busy this evening, so he planned to take advantage of this time to have a good rest.

He closed his eyes.

Everything was like a dream. He was a little confused as to whether the dream was a reality, or reality was a dream.

※※※

After the game, from the locker room to the press conference and back to the hotel, the entire Forest team was extremely excited. It was the first time for many of them to win this rare honor — a European championship.

Even those who had won the Champions League before did not expect to be able to pick up the trophy again at the end of their careers.

Edwin van der Sar started in Ajax. He participated in the UEFA Champions League final when he played for Ajax in 1995. Coincidentally, their opponent then was AC Milan, and there was also a former AC Milan player on the Ajax team — Rijkaard. Even more coincidentally, Rijkaard assisted Kluivert, who scored seven minutes before the end of the game to beat the then indomitable AC Milan and unexpectedly picked up the Champions League title.

Edwin van der Sar had never forgotten that day for the most glorious moment of his career belonged to that day. Later, he had not been able to obtain such honor, with Ajax, Juventus or the Netherlands national team.

Edwin van der Sar was thrilled to win the Champions League title for the second time. He was thirty-six years old and only had a few years left in his career. His career had a good start with the Champions League title, and he hoped the end of his career would also draw to a happy conclusion with the Champions League.

He picked up the Champions League trophy and rubbed his face against it. The cool sensation reminded him that everything was real and not a dream.

Edwin van der Sar was just a representative of some people, as it was the case with many veterans. Even a world-class striker like van Nistelrooy had never won a Champions League title in his career. When he was dumped by Manchester United, he chose Nottingham Forest just to retaliate against Manchester United and prove to Ferguson what a big mistake it was for Manchester United to abandon him. He did not think… He never thought that his unfulfilled wish at Manchester United would be fulfilled at Nottingham Forest.

He did not know what to say as he held the trophy. He was the highest goalscorer in the fifty-two-year history of the Champions League (if the figure included the Champions League qualifiers, the player with the highest number of Champions League goals scored would be Real Madrid's Raúl González), but he had never won a championship trophy, which was somewhat unspeakable.

Now van Nistelrooy could finally get rid of this embarrassment.

Whether they were retiring, just starting, or entering the golden phase of their careers, the Forest players now had a glorious record in their careers — the 06-07 Champions League title.

Just the sound of it was amazing.

But in fact, they were more remarkable than this honor. One had to know that the struggles in the English Football League Championship (which was known as the Football League First Division at the time), a financial crisis, and the danger of being relegated had plagued everyone on the team four years ago.

Nottingham Forest was a team with a tradition of creating miracles, whether it was during Brian Clough era or with Tony Twain currently at the helm, they all did things that no one else could even dare dream of.

Twain did not restrain his men that night. He did not command them to go to their rooms to rest at eleven o'clock and did not forbid them from drinking to their hearts' content.

Because he himself was made to drink by his colleagues in the hotel bar till he passed out.

The group of English drunks even poured beer into the Champions League trophy before they drank from it in turns. In reality, not much of the alcohol went into their stomachs. More of it was poured down their necks and drenched their bodies instead.

Twain did not know how much he had drunk. There was no way to keep track anyway. His glass was filled up repeatedly. Finally, they drank directly from the bottles. Twain thought that "when hopes are won, drink your fill in high delight. And never leave your wine-cup empty in moonlight!" was the truth for the ages. He could not think of a more appropriate way to celebrate other than to drink. One should drink during happy times and it was the best way to let go of one's feelings. Alcohol was the greatest invention in the history of human civilization. Without alcohol, his life would be boring. Alcohol was his favorite other than football.

Now he finally had a chance to drink to his fill and booze without constraints. How could he let go of it? He drank and threw up repeatedly. He did not know how much alcohol he had in his system, but he clearly remembered his mood at the time — he was very happy and blissful.

Beer, champagne, whisky, wine, brandy, vodka… they had all the alcohol for sale in the hotel bar.

By the next day, the manager of the hotel received a report from their bar which stated that the people from Nottingham Forest had drank up the entire contents of the bar.

The Greeks finally witnessed the English's capacity for drinking.

This was also why the team flew to London only in the afternoon and not in the morning — because most of the people were still passed out from the alcohol that morning.

George Wood was not among the crazy crowd. He accompanied his mother to do some shopping and buy souvenirs. He had little interest in the booze and was not interested in the party. He only wished to accompany his mother when he did not play football and would go with her wherever she wanted to go and to pay for whatever she wanted to buy.

Wood had always felt that he owed much to his mother. Now that he made a lot of money, he wanted to make it up to her.

Twain knew this too, so he did not ask Wood to attend the party. He just reminded him and his mother to be careful while out shopping.

Everyone else in the team was aware how much Wood loved his mother, so no one forced him to join in the binge drinking.

※※※

When Twain opened his eyes again, it was because he was woken by a loud noise.

He drowsily opened his sleepy eyes in a daze and turned his head to look out of the window at the familiar buildings. The bus had finally arrived in Nottingham. As he looked further down, he was startled and jerked up in his seat, suddenly wide awake.

All he saw was a sprawling sea of red from one end of the street to the other end.

Clad in the red Forest jerseys and the red Forest team's commemorative t-shirts for their third championship win, the fans huddled on both sides of the street and waved their arms and flags as they cheered and applauded the players in the bus.

Despite the police cars making way, the bus seemed to crawl up the crowded street.

The players went up to the upper deck to accept the cheers from the fans along the route.

"Wow, the entire city turned up." Twain whistled.

It was extremely noisy. He could not hear himself at all. The voices of the fans here were the only voices that could be clearly heard.

They were calling the names of every Forest player. Those who were called stood up from their seats, waved in response, and then received louder cheers before they sat back down contentedly.

It was like a military parade. However, it was not the people on the in the bus who inspected the streets. It was the fans on the streets who inspected the "soldiers" on the bus.

Twain turned over and saw Kerslake came thumping down from above. When he saw that Twain was awake, he happily waved to him and shouted, "Come up! Come on up!"

Twain had not yet reacted as the fans' voices were too loud for him to hear exactly what Kerslake was shouting about.

That was when he heard the fans shouting his name. "Tony! Tony! Tony Twain! Tony! Tony! Tony Twain!!"

He looked at Kerslake's excited smiling face and understood right away.

Twain appeared on the upper deck. The fans cheered with excitement when they saw him emerge.

Twain leaned over the railing and waved to the crowd below. This position was higher than where he had been. He could see more clearly. Not only was the street covered in red, front and back, even as far as he could see… it was red everywhere.

The ancient city of Nottingham seemed to have been dyed in red overnight.

"Look!" Kerslake excitedly pointed below. "The grandest occasion in twenty-seven years!"

Twain smiled and said, "don't worry, David, there will be more to come in the future. You can see it as many times as you want."

"Heh heh, I know you have the ability, Tony." Kerslake punched Twain lightly.

Twain stepped forward and took the trophy from Wood before he raised it high up. His action led to more screams from below the bus.

Someone handed Twain a microphone, which was connected to the bus speakers. He could give a speech from the bus. His voice had turned hoarse in the past few days. He had already strained himself giving that speech at the airport… He had to use the microphone connected to the speakers if he wanted to speak.

He coughed into the microphone. This sound was amplified by the speakers in front of the bus and could be heard from afar. The fans in this section became quiet when they saw that Twain had something to say.

"I, Tony Twain, am very grateful to all of you for your support. To be honest, I'm really touched to see this scene. It looks endless." He waved his hand. "Did half of Nottingham turn up?"

He continued after a pause, "When I was the acting manager of Nottingham Forest, I used to say to a couple of good friends in the pub that I don't care if the game is entertaining to watch, I don't care if I win with offense or defense, I don't care how the Forest team used to play, my goal is simple. And that is to win. I said a team that can't win is worthless, the manager who can't lead the team to win is f**king terrible!" He raised his voice with every word.

His speech was soon received enthusiastically by the people below.

"I had also told my players and said… What kind of football is considered Nottingham Forest's football? It's the kind that keeps winning! I'm very happy that I can use such a trophy today to prove everything that I had said before was not bragging." He raised the trophy with one hand and looked fondly at the it. "It has been twenty-seven years and she's back in our hands. But here and now, in the presence of so many people, I promise you — this won't be the last celebration!"

He handed the trophy back to Wood. He raised both of his hands and shook his head.

"As long as I'm still in this position, we will keep repeating it. Now, let's go to the City Ground Stadium tonight and celebrate!"

With that, he put the microphone down, waved his fists again, and went down.

His throat was sore, and he was afraid to continue talking.

His throat could not bear it any longer with these few days of incessant roaring, non-stop talking, plus the smoking and drinking.

※※※

The bus progressed slowly, but finally arrived at the city square at five o'clock in the afternoon. The entire team waited to enter the municipal building opposite the square, to celebrate with the gathered fans. This scene brought tears to many of the old Nottingham Forest fans' eyes because when the Forest team won the Champions League for the second time twenty-seven years ago, they had also celebrated with the fans here.

Later, on the day to commemorate the twentieth anniversary of the UEFA Champions League, the Forest team organized a replication of the original parade. Although there had been a lot of people, the Forest team's future in the Football League First Division had been uncertain. There was not much excitement for the people who had come to commemorate.

Because whenever people thought of the past glory, they would find that the current reality was too cruel — once the European champion who had won twice in a row, could now only play in the second level league.

This time it was not the same. The people who came here might remember the past, but more often than not, they just cheered for the Forest team in front of them.

The silver trophy they held in their hands now was not a replica, but the real championship trophy, the real McCoy.

From the terrace of the municipal building, the entire Forest team had changed into suits again this time. They were going to have a formal dinner with the mayor. The players all put away their mischievous smiles and seriously sat down to dinner with the mayor and other senior government officials.

Evan Doughty was at ease with this kind of setting. But Twain and the players were uncomfortable. Such a solemn affair was a torment for them.

The city mayor praised the team's outstanding contribution to the city of Nottingham. When he made the toast, he said with emotion, "it used to be Robin Hood who let the whole world know our Nottingham city. And now you, all the players of Nottingham Forest have made the world reacquainted with us again!"

Everyone raised their glasses and thanked the mayor for his praise. The atmosphere was harmonious.

The dinner did not take long because the Forest team had to go to the City Ground stadium to prepare for the evening's celebration party.

Twain led the team away and Evan Doughty stayed behind with Allan Adams. They wanted to talk to the mayor in private about the location of the new stadium. If the government's support and some preferential policies could be obtained with regards to the purchase of the land, then the club could save a large sum of money in the construction plan for the new stadium.

Now that the Forest team had just won the Champions League and became the king of Europe, it was clearly the best time to make this request. Another reason that was particularly beneficial to the Forest team was that the current mayor was a big fan of Nottingham Forest, and that four generations of his family had grew up watching the Forest team play football. From an emotional standpoint, he should also support the Forest team's plans to build a new stadium.

※※※

The news of the Forest team's evening celebration party was known to all in Nottingham, and at the same time, everyone knew it was an opportunity to say goodbye to a few people.

Albertini was going to retire, and Paul Gerrard had also announced his retirement. It was the best time to go to the City Ground stadium to see them off.

The City Ground stadium was brightly lit as the night came on. Just like during a home game, the crowd swarmed towards the stadium. The Trent River reflected the dazzling lights on the main entrance of the City Ground stadium. With the undulating ripples, the City Ground stadium in the water looked like an illusory palace. The 109-year-old stadium that exuded a modern glow in the night.

The police officers kept order around the stadium, but the police force was less than in a regular game. Because this time there were no visiting fans who could cause riots. Other than the real Forest fans, no one could buy tickets.

A police car parked at the head of the Trent Bridge. A young officer stood alone outside the car and smiled at the Forest fans who walked past him.

The car radio in the police car was covering the ongoing celebration at the City Ground stadium for its listeners. It was said that it was soon to be full house.

The young policeman looked at the fans who had walked past him and thought — would his former partner be in it now as well?

※※※

The Forest team invited some celebrities and stars to attend the celebration party, but none of them were the highlight. They were just Forest fans whose identities were a little more unique.

Tonight's leading characters were still the team, players and coaches.

After everyone had entered the stadium, the outside of the stadium slowly calmed down, and the lights inside the City Ground stadium were all switched off, leaving only a few lights to create an arena atmosphere.

After a simple theatrical performance, the live presenter — John Motson began to introduce to the guests the Forest players about to make their appearances.

The Forest players had changed into their commemorative t-shirts and stood at the mouth of the tunnel. The guys looked at each other and saw the excited smiles on each other's faces.

These two days had really been unforgettable for them.

The first name to be called was George Wood. As the excellent player who graduated from the Forest youth team, and the next team captain, he was the first to came on.

He ran out and received loud applause and cheers from the Forest fans.

The spotlight from the roof shone down, and the beam of light enveloped Wood, accompanying him all the way from the tunnel to the center circle in the field.

The Forest players were called out one by one, and everyone received a warm welcome as they ran out. This was not the same as the celebration in Athens. This night entirely belonged to Nottingham Forest. No one would consider their opponent, and no one would worry about how their unbridled celebrations would let the opponent feel that they were not sportsmanlike enough.

This was Nottingham Forest people's show and they could use all the ways they could think to celebrate this championship title. They could celebrate without any restraints and brashly without fear of gossip.

Twain and the members of the coaching unit waited in the tunnel. There were fewer people around him. Everyone gave Twain a hug before they ran out after their names were called.

The sounds of the live broadcast and the fans' thunderous roars could be clearly heard in the tunnel.

Twain was full of smiles on his face and did not even show a moment of tiredness.

When Anelka's name was called, the fans' cheers remained enthusiastic but Anelka's smile was a little awkward. He did not hug or even shake hands with Twain and just ran straight out.

Twain did not care either. He did not even pay it any mind. He was just chatting with Dunn. It was Dunn who alerted him to it. He shrugged his shoulders as he looked at Anelka's back. "It's best that he acted like this."

And then Paul Gerrard was called.

The fans were a little louder this time than before. Although Paul was only a substitute goalkeeper, everyone remembered how he almost lost his life in the Champions League final last season. He was not blamed for the two conceded goals. He had done a good enough job.

Paul Gerrard turned around to embrace Twain. "Thank you, chief. To be able to win a championship title in my career… I'd never thought there would be such a wonderful thing!"

Twain smiled and said nothing. He just patted him on the shoulder. He did not know what to say as well.

Gerrard turned and ran onto the field.

Now, the only player left next to him was Albertini.

Twain turned his head and looked at the Italian player.

He was someone who had seen Demetrio retired once, but he still had an indescribable feeling.

He wanted to open his mouth to say something, but he heard the announcement crying out his name outside.

"Next… Let's welcome —" Motson dragged his voice out and seemed to deliberately keep everyone in suspense. In fact, he was just giving the fans in the stadium time to get ready.

Sure enough, the fans in the stands began to chant the last two names that had not yet appeared:

"Tony! Tony!"

"Demetrio! Demetrio!"

"Demetrio, it's time for us to take the field." Twain lifted the trophy on the ground and handed the other handle to Albertini.

Albertini took it and nodded.

Afterward together with the trophy, the two men stepped onto the field amid a flood of cries.

"Tony and Demetrio!"

Motson had used the full names without exception when he called on those players before. However, this time he used the first names of those two delegates. He knew as well as the Forest fans that Nottingham Forest only had one "Tony" and "Demetrio."

As the cheers grew louder, they ultimately synthesized with the applause to form a powerful current which engulfed them. As Twain and Albertini walked, they held up the trophy in their hands, and it dazzled under the lights.

As they walked toward the rest of the team, the players waiting on the sidelines swarmed around and lifted the two men up high together with the trophy. The atmosphere in the stadium reached fever pitch.

"Let's cheer for our champions!" Motson hollered at the microphone.

He was not the commentator at the Champions League final. He was the BBC commentator and was not qualified to provide the commentary at the Champions League game. But this also gave him the benefit of being able to watch the television at home and drink beer while he cheered for the Forest team without having to consider the issue of a commentator's inclination.

After a while, the players finally put the two men down. Twain placed the trophy on the table and then took the microphone.

"I need to thank a lot of people. However, today, I would like to thank one person." His voice could be clearly heard throughout the stadium.

He walked up to Albertini.

"Do you know? When I decided to put Demetrio in the starting lineup before the final, people had asked me: 'Are you crazy? That old guy can no longer play. How can you let him start in such an important final?!' And other people had said to me: 'We understand your sentiments for Demetrio, but this is the final and you can't joke about the fate of the entire team because of personal feelings!' And the result?" Twain shrugged and pointed to the championship trophy behind him. "I want to say that if we didn't have Demetrio, we wouldn't have been able to get this trophy back!"

"About six months ago, I said to Demetrio: 'I'll give you a real farewell game.' The Champions League final… was not my handout to Demetrio, it never was. I think Demetrio's form and level were enough to cope with that final, so I let him start. I'm very happy because it was an important decision in my coaching career, and it brought us the silver Champions League trophy!"

The people in the stands used their applause to show their agreement.

"I always thought that Demetrio retired too early at the age of thirty-five. You could play for at least two more years. But I can't dissuade you. I'm able to leave the reporters dumbfounded at the press conference, but I can't convince you." Twain looked at Albertini and Albertini just smiled. "There's not a single person here who wants you to go." He gestured at the players around him. "But we respect your decision. The only thing that makes me happy is that I can finally give you a Champions League trophy as a commemorative gift."

With that, he gave the microphone to Albertini. He knew he had to have some things to say.

Albertini took over the microphone, and said to his teammates, "Thank you."

Then he turned to look up at the stands around the stadium.

"I would also like to thank you all, the Forest fans. I don't want to lie. Other than the AC Milan fans, you are the most adorable group of fans I've ever met. When the boss went to Italy three years ago to find me, I never thought I would lift another Champions League trophy in the last game of my career… I'm no longer a child who likes to dream for a long time. But, I really had a beautiful dream — I'll never forget my three years here. In the last three years of my career, I've met a fantastic manager, a bunch of terrific teammates, a remarkable team, and you…" He pointed to the stands and added, "a large group of brilliant fans."

A huge round of applause came from the stands and poured in from all directions, as if a pair of invisible arms had tightly embraced their captain, Demetrio Albertini.

The applause made Albertini unable to continue. In truth, his voice sounded a little choked up toward the end. His teammates around him came up and hugged him one by one, and the younger ones, like Bale, even cried.

When George Wood and Albertini hugged, he felt that Demetrio had used more strength. "I'm leaving, George. It's up to you." Albertini whispered into his ear.

Wood nodded.

He still did not know how to say the parting words. Eastwood's glib tongue made Albertini laugh, which was something he did not know how to do.

For the last three years, Albertini had been with him, teaching him how to be a qualified professional player, a good defensive midfielder and a competent team captain. He was used to having Albertini around in training and life. That feeling and emotion were inexplicable. If he had to describe it, it was like a good friend who had been with him for many years suddenly had to travel far away, he wanted to his friend to stay, but he could not deny his friend of his freedom.

Or should I say, "Demetrio, I wish you all the best?" But I don't even want to say that at all…

He let go of Albertini and retreated to one side. He kept his head bowed and did not make a sound as he made way for his other teammates.

Not only the players, but also the coaches all went up to embrace the Italian player to thank him for all his contributions to the team and extended their deepest respects with regards to his retirement.

The last person to go up and embrace Albertini was Twain.

"I would like to give you a parting phrase, Demetrio." Then Twain read a poem in Mandarin, "Do not think that you are without friends in the road ahead for you are known in the world."

"What does it mean?" Albertini did not understand Mandarin.

"It means…Uh…" Twain wanted to translate this sentence into poetic English, but he found that he was unable to. "In short, it means… that you are the best player in the world. Maybe some people may disagree with me but we can ignore them for I think you are so you have to be! Forget the words of those ignorant people. I am the champion now, so I have the final say!"

It was clear that Twain could not explain this meaning and wanted to use this way bluff through it.

Albertini, who had long been accustomed to Twain's ruse, saw through it instantly. He then smiled at the embarrassed Twain.

His smile rescued Twain. The two men looked at each other and laughed. They laughed until tears came.

After their laughter subsided, Twain wiped the corners of his eyes, and saw that Albertini's eyes were red.

"Demetrio."

"Yes?"

"It's time to say goodbye…"

"Yes."

Meanwhile, music was played over the stadium's broadcast. It was the song Time to Say Goodbye sung by the famous soprano, Sarah Brightman and Italy's famous blind male singer, Andrea Bocelli.

The Italian song sung was melodious but carried the moving sadness of a farewell. An indescribable emotion welled up in everyone's chest in the stadium and began to spread. It was truly a perfect song to give the Italian veteran, Demetrio Albertini his farewell. Twain marveled at Motson for picking the song.

Albertini also did not expect that he would actually hear an Italian song, particularly this one. He froze for a moment, listened attentively and then pressed his lips together as his eyes welled with tears.

In the song, he seemed to replay his career again. He had a wonderful start… he had wanted to go on like and play for AC Milan until he retired. He did not expect to guess the beginning right but not anticipate the ending. When he was kicked out later in his career, he went to Atletico Madrid, Lazio, and then Nottingham Forest… These teams were just relay stations for him to stay for a while. If he had not attained the second spring of his career in Nottingham Forest and unexpectedly won the Champions League title, how many people would have remembered him if he had chosen to retire then?

Vowed to be loyal to AC Milan and yet he was kicked out, what could be crueler than that? If he had a choice, he would rather trade this Champions League trophy for a chance to be a loyal player again.

Was that possible? Of course not.

Having been noisy the entire night, the City Ground stadium was quiet the moment the song played. Everyone set their sights on the man in the spotlight.

In the poignant song, Albertini slowly raised his hands. With reddened eyes, he pressed his lips together as he said goodbye to his eighteen years of drifting in his career.

Along with everyone, Twain clapped and paid tribute to him as they watched. When he did all these, he hid among the players and did not draw attention to himself so that no one could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

Goodbye, Demetrio.

Your story has ended, and my story is just beginning…