Godfather Of Champions

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

In the locker room during the halftime interval, the Nottingham Forest players were a bit dejected. No one could accept the result of their opponent's equalizer towards the end of the first half.

"All right, don't think about that goal concede. That's can't be helped anymore …" Twain was comforting them, "Instead of feeling frustrated here about the first half that's already over, think about how we still hit back in the second half!" He clenched and waved his fist in front of everyone.

"We basically took control of the initiative in the first half and the pace of the game was in our hands. That goal of Lampard … It was a real accident. There will always be accidents like this on the football field. But I want you to minimize the probability of this kind of accident happening in the second half. If you look at the source of that goal concede, it wasn't an accident. Essien's sudden plug-in prevented us from reacting and let him run all the way to the front of our box for a long shot—you all thought he would cross, or divert the football to someone else, right?"

"For ten minutes after the second half starts, you can slow down the pace a little and adjust. Focus on defense during this period and save your physical strength. Wait until the last twenty minutes to start powering up again."

Twain was aware that it was tiring to keep the same pace in a major game like this, because the mental stress draining the players' energies was also not to be underestimated, on top of their physical exertion using up their energies. Nottingham Forest had the upper hand in the first half and repeatedly launched a threatening offensive. They had more ball possession than Chelsea, at the cost of a lot of physical exertion, especially on the two sides. If they continued to play like this in the second half, their stamina could collapse before the ninety minutes game was over.

They needed to adjust the tempo when necessary, slow down the pace of the offensive, and properly let the opponent move out to attack. Besides being able to restore their fitness, it would also create chances for them to counterattack. When it came to counterattacks, Twain did not think there was a team in the world which could do it better than Nottingham Forest.

"The morale of Chelsea after the equalizer must have been strong and they will launch a fierce offensive against our goal at the start of the second half. At that time, don't rush to press out and deal with them. Pepe and Pique, continue to make sure that you suppress Drogba … You guys did a great job in the first half, so much so that I even thought Drogba was not playing in this game." He spread his hands and made a joke.

This remark amused everyone, and the atmosphere lightened slightly.

"So, that's it, defense." Twain once again threw out his own "theory of defense above all else.""Prevent the opponent's attack can enhance our morale on the one hand while on the other hand, it can hit the opponent's morale hard. Football games are the process of long elimination. If you can withstand their ferocious attack at the beginning of the second half, then the victory of this game basically belongs to us!" He clenched his fist as if he had grabbed hold of the championship trophy.

"Then we will attack. You can't forget to fight back while you're defending, and you can't forget to defend when you attack. That's what I'm asking of you in our usual training. I want you to be able to show me this in this game. After you withstand the onslaught from Chelsea, they are bound to feel discouraged by it and will be at a low ebb in terms of stamina. At that time … you know what to do, don't you?"

The players laughed and replied, "Of course!"

"Lastly, I hope you don't lose your desire for the title and your confidence in winning no matter what happens. This is more important than any tactic. Chelsea is sure to counter, so let them come! We're not afraid! The crazier they counter, the closer we are to the championship title!!"

※※※

Meanwhile, in Chelsea's locker room. Grant was giving the players the tactical rundown for the second half with a calm expression. He did not act in a manner like how Tony Twain inspired his players in the locker room with exaggerated body movements and sonorous powerful words. He was really not good at that kind of work …

"… The offensive has to be stepped up in the second half. Our offense was terrible in the first half!" In the past in the locker room, Grant would always deliberate his remarks to avoid provoking those big-name star players and creating antagonism between the players and coaches in the locker room. But he could not care about that this time. The rumors that he would be dismissed even if he won the Champions League title were already swirling all over. His days at Stamford Bridge had already entered a countdown, and he also did not want to stay at Chelsea to coach. His current greatest wish was to beautifully win the trophy in Moscow and give a hard slap back to the faces of the media and busybodies. Then he would take the penalty fees for the breach of the contract given by Abramovich and turned to walk away.

"Drogba, you're completely restricted by the opponent's two tall center backs. Do you have a way to get rid of them?"

Drogba still gasped for his breath and did not want to deal with this replacement manager who robbed his mentor's job. He just lowered his head and answered with a "um" to indicate that he was fine.

Grant looked at this player who gave him a headache. Everyone knew that in the previous media reports circulated about him, this black player was among the people in the locker room who opposed and questioned him. But he was Chelsea's striker best at scoring goals…

"… If you can't, I'll bring you off." Grant had a grim expression as he said those harsh words.

Drogba drew back the corners of his mouth and did not say anything about it.

But the other players in the locker room looked differently at Grant. They were astonished. When did the manager, who had always acted a little cowardly in the face of the big-name star players, started to be tough? In fact, Grant's position in the players' mind was not high. Even if he had led the team to the Champions League final, there were still many people who thought that he was a coward. They could not be blamed because after all, Grant's predecessor was so brilliant … Anyone who came could only live in the shadow of that arrogant madman manager.

Grant found himself in trouble. His players seemed a little distracted. It was strange that their morale was still strong after the equalizer. So why did they behaved less than enthusiastically during the halftime interval? Was it because the pressure was too high? Or could it be some other reason?

He knew there had been some factional fighting in the locker room. There had been contradictions between the players, conflicts between the players and the coaches, and even disagreements between the coaches themselves … With so many contradictions, Chelsea still broke into the final in the end. He felt he was quite remarkable as a manager.

But to fall short through lack of a final effort, it definitely was not something Grant could accept.

He stopped his rundown of the tactics. Since they were not listening, there was no point in continuing.

"What are you all thinking about?" He asked aloud, "We equalized the score. But why do I feel you're not happy at all now?"

No one answered his question. He was nominally the manager of this team, but in the locker room, his authority might not be as strong as that of the native England star player like Lampard.

"Where do you think you are at this moment?!" Grant was somewhat angry and could not help but raise his voice, "It is now the halftime in the Champions League final! There's still forty-five minutes left before the game will be over! And you're still here getting distracted? Whether we can get the title, it's all down to these last forty-five minutes. I'm explaining the tactics, but why doesn't anyone listen?!"

He slammed the tactical board. His actions and tone which completely went against his normal behavior made everyone look up.

"You don't want to win this title, do you? The club has never played in a Champions League final in its history. Now that you've done it, you want to stop here, is that it?" His volume was still rising, "Are you guys satisfied to score just one goal in the Champions League final? Are you happy with the equalizer? But I won't agree!! Those fans out there won't agree either!!" The furious Grant shook off his suit jacket as he growled and pointed at the door. It shocked everyone.

Lampard finally came forward. He was more supportive of Grant. "I'm sorry, boss. None of us here wants to give up the game." He turned and indicated his teammates behind him. Some people followed up with their nods.

"Yes, we all want to beat Nottingham Forest and win the championship." The captain, Terry also declared the team's position. Well, now the problem was solved.

"Then listen carefully!" When he saw Lampard stand up and recalled what he had just gone through, Grant's tone eased a little. He picked up his suit jacket and tossed it aside. He began to explain to the players the tactics to be used in the second half.

At the same time, he was shocked in his mind that he had lost himself in that moment just now. He became like that huckster, Tony Twain and used words to criticize and provoke the players.

But… it felt pretty good just now.

※※※

"Chelsea is certain to make some adjustments, not necessarily among the players. The biggest possibility is tactical. But… I wouldn't be surprised if Grant, that old man, replaces Drogba. The only one who is surprised should be Drogba." Sitting in the technical area, Twain said to the people around him with a smile. The second half of the game was about to begin, and he was still relaxed enough to joke with his assistant managers.

It was strange that he did not have such a mentality when they played against AC Milan. Even when he played against Mourinho's Chelsea, he did not dare to relax much. However, when he played against Grant, he always had the feeling that "everything is in the palm of my hands."

He had never regarded this old Israeli man as a true opponent in his mind …

The two sides changed sides to compete again in the second half. Neither team made any changes in the players. They only fine-tuned their tactics. Nottingham Forest placed more emphasis on defense, while Chelsea used the advantage of their kickoff in the second half to launch a series of offensives against the Forest team's goal.

In the fifty-fifth minute, Essien once again charged into Nottingham Forest's hinterland from his full back position. After he swung past Ribery, he raised his leg to shoot and the shot went slightly above the crossbar.

Two minutes later, Drogba received a corner shot from the left. He jumped high to attack with a header shot, but unfortunately, it hit high again.

Shortly ten seconds later, Ballack suddenly dribbled the ball to break out from the midfield and kicked a long shot. The football deflected out from the right column.

During this time, Chelsea's offense completely suppressed Nottingham Forest. The Forest team gradually declined in the confrontation in the midfield. It was not to say that Chelsea's midfield was stronger, but Grant had instructed the midfielders to increase the intensity of the confrontation and strengthened the whole midfield because George Wood was also a tough midfielder. If they still remained soft as an opponent, then it would be no surprise to lose the midfield.

The basis to decide the victory in the game was in the midfield. By gaining the midfield, Chelsea had the hope of completing the reversal.

Once the three men, Ballack, Lampard and Makelele toughened up, Chelsea's situation on the field immediately changed. No matter how strong George Wood was, he could not confront three people alone.

Pepe, Pique and the others made many crucial rescues in the face of Chelsea's waves of offensive. In addition, due to the pressure from Chelsea which caused the Nottingham Forest formation to be compressed backward, George Wood was more like a center back than a defensive midfielder at this time. Even van Nistelrooy came back to take part in the defense, leaving only Eastwood alone in front—he was placed there to be ready to fight back. But for now, the Forest team had no chance of fighting back at all.

Grant understood Tony Twain's team. They were the kind of team which he could not take lightly and needed to keep an eye and defend, even when they were besieging them. Therefore, when he instructed his team to besiege Nottingham Forest and launch a counter press in the midfield and in front, they must never give them a chance to fight back.

In the sixty-sixth minute, Chelsea once again forcibly obtained a corner kick through a series bombardment. Lampard launched the corner shot. The successive attacks put a mental strain on Edwin van der Sar. Instead of waiting for the defenders to lift a siege, he intended to strike on his own and take the ball to completely end this round of Chelsea's offensive.

But-

"He missed the target!!" The commentator exclaimed.

Edwin van der Sar chose to strike which was really a little risky. There were three players in the middle. When he struck, he could not even directly get the football. At best, he could only get the ball out. That was what van der Sar realized in mid-air, so he tried to quickly change his strategy which immediately resulted in him missing his target…

The football skirted past the front of his fists!

At this point, the Nottingham Forest people was so startled that theirs heart leapt to their throats, because Chelsea's captain, John Terry was next to Edwin van der Sar.

This center back was brilliant at header shots …

Perhaps he was dazzled by Edwin van der Sar's attack. When the shining white football suddenly flew in front of him, Terry had not reacted yet. He hurriedly swung his head but ended up the same as Edwin van der Sar—he missed!

"Gasp—-" This time, whether it was a Nottingham Forest fan or a Chelsea fan, everyone gasped.

The football was not rubbed against by anyone. It glided through the penalty area of Nottingham Forest at a high speed and then flew straight out of the sidelines on the other side.

"Nottingham Forest narrowly escaped! And John Terry will surely be annoyed at why he did not get to that ball! They had a chance to lead ahead of Nottingham Forest!"

This ball startled Twain till he jumped from his seat and almost covered his head in his hands with chagrin. Fortunately, Terry was addled at the last minute, and did not head the ball under freakish circumstances.

On the other side, Grant jumped out of his seat too. But he was excited and annoyed—-at first it was because he was excited, and then he jumped again due to chagrin this time.

"Chelsea missed a good opportunity. Maybe they'll regret it after the game. But now that Chelsea has the upper hand on the field, they can still create more opportunities. Surely Chelsea's powerful offensive group will be able to seize a chance at some point, won't they?"

Without waiting for Chelsea to seize the opportunity, Nottingham Forest's own defensive line first collapsed in a corner.

Pique fell to the ground and did not get up after a fierce scramble. He rolled on the ground as he held his calf in his hands. He had a muscle cramp.

The team doctor, Fleming was summoned once again and ran up. George Wood had already pressed Pique's leg down as an emergency treatment.

"Chelsea has put a lot of pressure on us …" Kerslake muttered.

The pressure was really very high during this time. The defenders was busy till dizzy in the heads with the constant siege. As a center back, Pique not only had to fill in Bale's position, but also had to return to the middle and defend against Drogba. He also had to scramble for Chelsea's passes in the wing, and block Chelsea's frenzied long shots with his body …

"Is it time to make adjustments?" Dunn saw Twain get up and asked.

Twain nodded.

"It's a little earlier than expected. But the plan would not have kept pace with the change. What's important is the command on the scene." Twain walked to the sidelines. He called George Wood and van der Vaart.

"Press out, don't shrink in the back. George, you're the defensive midfielder, not the center back. What are you doing running into the box? Rafael, we need to rely on your personal skills here to get the football out. You can rest assured that George will protect you in the back. If you encounter interception, pass the ball, quickly pass and go to cut ahead!" Twain made a gesture and continued, "Don't tangle ceaselessly with them in the midfield and be deceived by Chelsea. Use the fastest speed to pass through the midfield. Directly threaten their goal and show them what you've got. That will keep them in check! When there's a chance for a long shot, take the long shot. It's not necessarily to pursue the success rate of the attack. Under such circumstances, one or two threatening shots will be enough to turn things around!"

As he spoke hurriedly, the two men nodded simultaneously.

"Well, go up and tell the others what I said, and let them carry it out."

Once he patted the pair on the shoulders and sent them back to the field, Twain did not walk back to the technical area. He continued to stand on the sidelines and watched the pitch. The situation was becoming critical, and he was unable to stay calm.

He turned his head and glanced sideways at Grant, who was also standing on the sidelines.

Chelsea's play during this time made him feel stressed and sense danger. He could no longer joke to deal with this game and such an opponent like he did at the start of the second half.

Did it look like he was going to have to change his view of Grant?

Could there be some minor waves of changes in this game?

How big a wave do you want to set off, Mr. Grant?

Want to get the title? I won't agree.