Godfather Of Champions

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

When the team returned to Wilford from London's Heathrow Airport, they were dismissed on the spot and given a half-day break. They would resume training tomorrow morning. But Twain and the two assistant managers did not have a break. He brought the two men straight to the training base to handle the day-to-day maintenance of the training ground.

The person in charge of this department was Thompson Isaksson, an elderly man who had worked his entire life in the turf maintenance at Wilford. He now continued to serve the club, leading sixteen men. The seventeen-member team was responsible for the day-to-day maintenance of a total of eight training grounds at the North and South Wilford training bases. The work included leveling the site, turf maintenance and some special requirements from the coaching staff.

Twain came to them this time for "some special requirements."

"Thompson, which is the worst training ground in the First Team's training base?" Twain got right to the point and asked the old man which momentarily stumped him so that he did not respond right away.

South Wilford was the First Team's training base with four standard training grounds. Each of the grounds was the same size as the City Ground stadium. The fields with the best conditions were number one and two, where the Forest First Team and reserves often trained and played internal games on. Within such a venue, even the turf was the same as what the City Ground stadium used, and it had the best maintenance.

Twain saw that Thompson looked uncomfortable, so he smiled and said, "Don't think too much, old man. I'm not here to criticize. Just tell me which training ground had the worst conditions."

"Well… Number three." Isaksson replied.

"How bad is it?"

"Well … We haven't had the time to level the ground and the grass growth is not satisfactory. Usually the team never used that space, so we didn't do much…" He still thought Twain was here to ask to criticize, and hurriedly explained on behalf of his team.

Twain patted him on the shoulder and said, "Bring us along to take a look."

So, the old man awkwardly led the way in front, followed by the three coaches, which somehow looked like a criminal being escorted…..

The number three training ground was located in the most remote corner of the training base, surrounded by dense woods. It was largely invisible from the outside. This training ground was the first field to be used by Nottingham Forest when it moved the training base from the City Ground stadium. Later because of the facilities were more complete in three other fields and after the more conveniently located training grounds were completed in succession, this location was gradually forgotten. The First Team's three training grounds were basically adequate for usage, so this fourth place was left idle here and neglected.

Twain knew about the situation but today he wanted to confirm it with his own eyes.

Hidden deep in the dense forest, the number three training ground revealed a barren and dilapidated air from which Twain could even detect a hint of the 1980s.

"It was first used when I was already at the club…" Isaksson could not help but sigh with regret when he saw the training ground. "It was lively at the time. Then it gradually died out. Coupled with the club's poor financial situation the end of the last century and no extra money to maintain so many training grounds at the same time, this place was completely abandoned …"

The group of people walked down the field themselves. Twain found that it was just as Isaksson had said. The training ground was no different from a wasteland due to the lack of maintenance and management. Although it did not have an overgrown of weeds and hares roaming about, it was largely different from the other three leveled training ground that were like green meadows.

"The ground is uneven … Oh, be careful!" Kerslake stopped Dunn beside him. He was walking when he twisted his ankle.

Dunn took a breath and seemed to have sprained his ankle. "It's nothing…"

"The quality of the grass is not good. It's too hard. One can easily get scratched training here." Isaksson added while he gave Dunn an apologetic glance at the same time. As one of the groundsmen, every site was their area of responsibility, so they would feel guilty if someone were to be hurt.

After he carefully walked a lap, Twain stood on the sidelines to look around again, and then snapped his fingers, "Very good."

"Very good?" Isaksson did not understand what the manager meant when he said that.

"Level the ground a little. Pay attention, Thompson, I'm talking about just level it a little. Just slightly. Do you get me?"

Isaksson looked at Twain and shook his head with a look of confusion. He could not understand his words.

"Well… That is to say, while keeping to its original appearance is important, try to make sure that one doesn't sprain one's ankle while walking on the training ground."

"Keeping it to its original appearance? What does that mean?" David Kerslake was also surprised, so he asked next to Isaksson.

"I need to maintain the little bumps in this pitch, keep the grass rough and for the football to fall unevenly on top." Twain explained.

"Why?" Isaksson and Kerslake asked the question almost at the same time. Only Dunn at the side suddenly looked pensive. When Kerslake saw it, he wanted to pinch his neck and said, "Say it if you know something! Dunn!"

Dunn shook his head and said, "I just thought maybe Tony is up to something no good again…"

"That's the idea I came up with on the flight." Twain chuckled, "I can't be in charge of the next game. I'm afraid the UEFA people won't even let me in the locker room. I think it's a loss for us when we are up against a team like Barcelona, so I have to make up for this loss from somewhere else. You've all seen the quality of the pitches at Camp Nou, haven't you?"

"Of course, it's much better than this… er, training ground under our feet. They have a five-star stadium." Kerslake had wanted to say, "this rotten vegetable patch under our feet." But he suddenly thought of Isaksson by his side. It would be too unfair to say that to an old employee.

"Ha, you're right, David. Their turf is of an excellent quality, which is also to be expected. After all, for a team that always likes to keep the football under its feet rather than at the top of its head, the requirements of the field must be very high. We have to use all means and methods to create trouble for them. In addition to the tactical and psychological means, I thought of the venue. A terrible field can greatly limit their play."

"But Tony. That will also limit our play." Kerslake was puzzled.

"So that's why I'm here today to handle the matter. Starting from tomorrow until the end of the game against Barcelona, we've got to carry out our training on this training ground, such as getting our players to get used to the feeling of playing on this ground as quickly as possible and avoiding injury as much as possible. And then on the day of the match, I'll ask that the City Ground stadium to be turned to this." He pointed to under his feet.

Kerslake swallowed when he heard Twain said that. He thought about how Dunn sprained his ankle just now from just walking on top of the field. If they were to use all their energy to sprint and do their moves on this kind of field…

It was as Dunn said. This was really not a "good idea."

After he explained to Kerslake, Twain turned to Isaksson who had been listening in a daze and said, "You only have half a day. Can you do it?"

"Ah, uh… If it's just to 'slightly' level it, I think there's no problem, Mr. Twain."

"In that case, I'll leave it in your good hands, Thompson. Without letting our people easily get hurt here and if we win Barcelona in the end, I'll send you a good bottle of wine!"

※※※

On the way out of number three training ground, Kerslake raised his objection to Twain's approach. He did not really think it was necessary to do so.

"I don't think there's such a big gap between us and Barcelona that we will need to resort to such an unusual means to secure victory, Tony."

"Truthfully, David. The gap between us and them is indeed that great. Do you think we can win easily just because we are back at our home ground? Pepe can't play while Baines and Fernández have accumulated enough yellow cards to be suspended. And as for me, I can only sit in the stands and wish you all good luck. But who are they missing? No one. Now come to think of it, we were too restrained in the first round…" Twain smacked his lips and rubbed his chin.

"Limit their play with terrible field conditions and frequent fouls, disrupt their inherent game rhythm and mess up the game situation as much as possible. Lastly… instruct out team to only practice long balls this week and I want to change the striker."

Kerslake saw Twain's expression and he already guessed who he wanted to replace, so he was even more surprised, "Are you serious, Tony? That kid had only played three times as a substitute in the league tournament and did not even score one goal. If you let him play in such an important game, aren't you afraid of ruining him?!"

"He's not going to collapse at the first blow like you'd imagine, David. I know what I'm doing." Twain gave a shrug and said, "The only regret is that he's still not strong enough… How nice it would be if he were a combination of Žigić and Ibrahimović…"

"Dream on!" Kerslake threw out the remark in frustration.

※※※

The next day, Twain came to Wilford early in the morning, ahead of most of the staff and players, as well as all the reporters. He went straight to number three training ground.

The early morning mist still shrouded the small forest. The number three training ground was faintly discernible amid the white fog. The scene reminded Twain of the Journey to the West story he read at a young age. The white fog lingering in the Heavenly Court was almost like this.

No one was there because he came too early. Twain went off the field to walk a lap and then jogged another lap. Following which, he nodded with satisfaction alone and said, "Well done."

Isaksson was undoubtedly a veteran worker who had worked here for decades and had good techniques. The work was fully in line with Twain's wretched requirements.

To ensure that the ground was uneven, and the quality of the turf was scraggly, but to also ensure that their own people training on top of it would not be easily injured, it was certainly risky. But that was not something that the groundsmen could control. These were matters for the coaching staff to consider.

Stepping on the still-uneven field, Twain began to chuckle deviously to himself.

※※※

The players arrived at Wilford for training as usual with the reporters huddled outside the venue to wait for fifteen minutes of public filming. Of course, more reporters were here to interview Tony Twain. They still wanted to hear the latest developments in the war of words between the two teams.

But what they saw was disappointing.

Tony Twain did not appeared in front of everyone from beginning to the end. Kerslake was the only coach on the training ground.

The players were as surprised as the reporters. They went out to get ready for training after they changed into their training clothes in the locker room, only to find that apart from the assistant manager, David Kerslake, none of the other coaches were to be seen.

After everyone had gathered, Kerslake spoke, "Guys, we're training at a different place today."

Huh?" Everyone's reaction was one of puzzlement.

"Go to the number three training ground." Kerslake pointed to a direction. Everyone looked over and could only see a dense forest.

"Where is it?" The vast majority of the players did not know the exact location because they had never trained in that place before. Some people thought that South Wilford had only three training grounds, number one, two and four.

"Don't ask. Just follow me." Kerslake turned and walked toward the dense forest.

"But the reporters…" Some of the players looked back at a group of media outside the barbed wire.

"Ignore them." Kerslake did not even turn his head.

The reporters outside the field were surprised to see the team suddenly march together to the most distant part of the training ground. Just as they did not know what was going on, the press officer appeared in front of the crowd with a smile.

"Mr. Twain suddenly informed the team to seal off the training. I'm sorry, everyone."

This was not the first time they had encountered such a situation, but the reporters still openly voiced their complaints.

"When has there ever been a manager who treats the media in such a manner?"

"Is he scared witless by Barcelona? Does he need to have a closed-door training for an away game again Norwich City, a league opponent at the bottom of the rankings?"

"Actually, I think he doesn't want to be surrounded by us and be asked questions about that gesture of his…"

Pierce Brosnan shook his head in the crowd. He could not understand what Tony Twain had in mind.

A group of reporters left reluctantly in the midst of their complaints.

Meanwhile, the Nottingham Forest players stared blankly at their "new training ground."

Twain was grinning in front of them, as if here were Mr. Devil himself to lure them to jump into the lava hell.

"This is the new training ground you will use in the coming week. It looks great, doesn't it?"

Eastwood mumbled to himself in a low voice among the crowd, "This is probably the worst training ground I've ever seen…" He had the right of speech and people would believe his words because he was the only one among the players who had played in the amateur league.

"It looks like a vegetable patch in a farm. Actually, it is a vegetable patch."

Twain's expression when he said this made the people who saw it wanted to beat him.

The color of the grass varied in the regular football field-sized training ground with patches everywhere. In some areas, there was no grass at all, and the color of the soil was directly exposed. It looked like a head being carelessly shaved with a pair of blunt hair clippers.

"You have to be careful. It's not as flat as it looks… So, today's warm-up has to be longer than previous days. No slacking off. Otherwise, don't complain that I did not warn you in advance after you sprain your ankle." After he said that, signaled to Kerslake to step forward and continue.

Kerslake stepped forward with today's training schedule.

"Guys, our training assignment today is…" At this point, he thought it was amusing, but he had to look serious and keep pretending, "to adapt to this site!"

Some of the players laughed. Kerslake immediately gave a glare and said, "This is not a joke! We are pressed for time. You only have one day to get used to… the feeling of playing football on this vegetable field! If anyone is injured here the next day, you will not get my sympathy!" He pointed to the other side, where the team doctor's unit was on standby under the leadership of Fleming with his "Super Mario beard." Everyone looked at them with a serious expression. They were no strangers to that look in their eyes. Whenever a player was seriously injured during a game, Fleming and his colleagues would look at the injured area with that look in their eyes and then turn around to make a substitution gesture to Twain.

When they looked at the situation, the laughter in the team gradually subsided until it completely disappeared. They realized that the boss was not prompted by a sudden impulse to play a joke on them. He was for real. It was a very serious matter.

After he saw that all the players realized the importance of the matter, Kerslake raised his voice, "Warm up! Fully warm up! Loosen up every part of your body and every joint! Even if your ankle twists to ninety degrees, it won't hurt easily! Then use your bodies to firmly remember the feeling of running every step here! Remember the parts which are deep and shallow, the areas which have pits and bumps, where the football has irregular movements when it falls… Don't remember them in your hearts or minds, remember them with your bodies! If anyone gets hurt, it's because your body doesn't remember! Finally, I ask you to keep your mouths shut on the contents of this week's training!"

His voice was concealed by the dense forest. No outsider could hear them. The reporters would absolutely not obtain any content to do with Nottingham Forest's closed-door special training this week.

To welcome their distinguished guests from afar, Tony Twain racked his brains and spent one week's time to prepare a big gift for them.

He hoped they would like it.