Godfather Of Champions

Chapter 816 - Who the Hell Is This Kid?

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

"Now Barcelona is leading by the overall score! And more importantly, they also have an away goal! How will Nottingham Forest fight back? Tony Twain is not in the technical area. He's always best at adapting to the changing circumstances…"

The commentator's concern was also the Nottingham Forest fans' worry. John, Bill and the others next to Twain turned to look at him as if they wanted him to make a decision.

They did not expect Twain to look at each pair of expectant eyes and laughed, "Why are you looking at me for? I'm not on the sidelines."

"You can use our mouths, Tony." John said, pointing to his mouth.

Twain shook his head and said, "Before the game we took into account all the things that could have happened, including, of course, the concede of the goal, even though I thought the probability of it was small … It seems that Pique has a high fighting spirit…"

"So, did you come up with any countermeasure?" The impatient Bill asked.

"No." Twain continued to shake his head.

"Tony….."

"Haha!" Twain laughed, "In fact, Barcelona had a bit of luck with this goal. They didn't obtain control of the game. Apart from this corner kick, they didn't really have chances to threaten our goal. So, with regards to any adjustments we have to make, we just have to keep our offensive pace. Barcelona's defensive weakness will not improve much as a result of this goal. So, I'm not worried…"

"But we need to score two more goals now if we want to advance directly, Tony…"

"Is scoring two goals difficult?" Twain asked in return.

He stumped everyone with the question. Two goals were really hard, but why was Tony Twain so confident?

Twain no longer explained. He wanted to watch the game now.

※※※

In fact, Barcelona was in high spirits after the goal and besieged Nottingham Forest's goal for a while. However, they did not get a decent chance in the face of the constrained conditions in the pitch and Nottingham Forest's defense. The goal was purely down to luck, just like what Twain said.

Soon Nottingham Forest drove Barcelona back. Currently for them, with twenty-five minutes to go, they needed to score a goal to make sure they were not eliminated within ninety minutes. To directly advance to the next round, they needed to score at least two goals.

It might be an impossible task for an average team up against Barcelona. But for Nottingham Forest, nothing was impossible.

They had all the right conditions. They had no excuse to lose the game!

After watching for a while, Twain said to the people next to him in the stands, "Let them boldly press forward, Barcelona's force is spent."

Accordingly, the north grandstand erupted in a burst of chanting voices, "Forest, Forest charge forward! Barcelona is finished! Forest, Forest, press forward! Barcelona is done for!"

They chanted over and over again. The Nottingham Forest players knew the chanting came from the north grandstand and were aware of whom it came from…

When the two full backs, Joe Mattock and Nkoulou boldly pressed ahead, the chanting finally disappeared.

Twain high-fived the people around him and thanked them for their help. "Well done, guys!"

※※※

Nottingham Forest's oppressive attack kept Barcelona so busy that they had no time to attack. Perhaps they thought it was better to cling fast to defense until the end of the game under such circumstances. That way, they could eliminate Nottingham Forest by a total score of 3:2 to advance to the semifinals.

Soon Nottingham Forest was awarded a free kick in the danger zone. The Barcelona players were nervous as they knew that a set piece was key in the game. Consequently, the human wall lined up to be deliberately close to the football. When the referee did not pay attention to them, they slowly took small steps to inch forward.

Twain frowned in the stands and said, "They should simply place the human wall in front of the football!"

This time without waiting for his instructions, the fans in the north grandstand began to chant in unison, "The human wall is too close! The human wall is too close!"

Whether the referee could understand or not, it was to make some different sounds. The shouts were accompanied by a huge number of boos.

The Nottingham Forest players also noticed Barcelona's petty maneuver. They got hold of the referee and signaled to him to take notice of Barcelona's human wall position—they had moved forward about a meter from where they were originally…

The referee turned back to motion for Barcelona's human wall to move backwards. The Barcelona players dragged their feet and were unwilling to move. They even indicated that they were in the right position.

The referee knew that it was not persuasive enough to use words. He must prove that Barcelona's human wall was not far enough, so he started to walk from the penalty spot to the human wall. One step equaled to one yard. The standard free kick distance should be ten yards (9.15 meters) from the human wall, which was about ten steps.

As he began to walk, Twain and the rest of the fans in the north grandstand joined in to count the numbers for the Barcelona players who did not know numbers:

"One! Two! Three! Four!"

As the counting progressed, more and more fans joined in the camp. For a moment, loud counting voices rang out over the City Ground stadium.

"… Five! Six! Seven!"

The Barcelona players looked a little worried. Even if they did not comprehend English, they should still know what the most basic "One Two Three" meant.

Before the referee could walk up to them, one by one began to retreat.

The referee was delightful too. Even when Barcelona's human wall moved back, he did not stop there, but continued walking. So, the Nottingham Forest fans in the stands also followed suit and were determined to embarrass Barcelona.

"Eight! Nine! Ten ——!!"

After counting to "Ten", a huge cheer erupted in the stands. The Forest fans celebrated the victory against Barcelona for this round. Even the commentator could not help but laugh at the scene.

In the end, the referee stood in a position that coincided with Barcelona's human wall position. Then he walked back to signal to the Forest team to get ready for the free kick.

Bentley's free kick bypassed the human wall and went straight into the top corner of the goal, which was quite threatening! Unfortunately, Valdes pounced and turned it into a corner ball.

Off the field, Kerslake waved to signal both Woodgate and Kompany to go up. As a full back with a height of 1.88 meters, Nkoulou also squeezed to the front of the goal to prepare to fight for a header. Joe Mattock was the shortest in the rear defensive line, so he retreated to near the center circle to defend.

After Nottingham Forest's corner kick was sent out, Nkoulou received the ball. But his header deviated slightly under interference. The football brushed against the goalpost and flew out, making all the Barcelona people gasped.

※※※

"Barcelona has fully retreated to defend, leaving Nottingham Forest to pass the ball back and forth in front of our penalty area. It is a dangerous thing … I don't think I can understand why Guardiola did this!" The Catalan commentator was dissatisfied with the situation. Barcelona played so pathetically which greatly embarrassed the Catalans.

But he was a typical armchair expert. If he were to play, he would realize Guardiola's frustration in doing so.

The Barcelona players could not execute an effective offensive on such a pitch. If they were to rely on the star players' personal skills, it would be easy to get caught up in the quagmire of the Forest team's collective defense. If they could hold on to the one goal advantage, why not?

As the game entered the seventieth minute, Guardiola looked at his wristwatch. It was only twenty minutes away from the victory.

Nottingham Forest attacked again, with the Forest fans in the stands chanting, "We need to score a goal! We need to score! We are dissatisfied, quickly score a goal to satisfy us!!"

When Bentley took the ball on the sidelines, he was about a dozen meters from the penalty area and looked unthreatening. So, Lahm did not immediately rushed up, because he wanted guard against Agbonlahor from inserting diagonally behind him. Yaya Toure and the others were also paying attention to Tiago and George Wood. In short, no one thought Bentley, who was far away from the penalty area, was a threat. If he were to cross from the byline, he would face Lahm's defense. If he passed the ball, Yaya Toure was standing guard in the middle.

Bentley, on the other hand, chose a way that no one thought of to create a threat—he swung his leg on the spot and directly crossed the ball near the midfield into the penalty area!

Knowing that the player furthest in the front at this time was Aaron Mitchell, who was still outside the penalty area, what was the point of his pass?

The football was not passed to the front of the goal. Actually, the ball's distance from the goal was as wide as a penalty area…

Aaron Mitchell sprinted forward during Bentley's pass and Pique closely followed him. This time, due to Bentley's sudden pass, Puyol did not keep up in time. With only Pique around him, Mitchell was confident of winning the header against his rival.

But what would happen if he won the header? He did not have a teammate around him who could receive it… Pique began to focus on defending the second point of fall. He observed for a while. Agbonlahor, nearest to Mitchell, was on the right. Was he going to ferry the ball over?

After competing for most of the match, Pique believed the tall man did have that ability as his header was really strong.

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

When Mitchell turned his head back to confirm the direction of the football, he took a glance at the situation around and found that there was no Barcelona defender in front of him, apart from the goalkeeper, Valdes. Perhaps it was a good time to shoot?

Is it too far? I don't know where I am now! I only saw a wide-open goal, and a goalkeeper standing slightly forward…

Mitchell, who had made up his mind to shoot, leaped high after his sprint. He opened his arms wide like he was a glider and blocked Pique behind him so that no one could interfere with him…

"Mitchell's header… Is this a shot to the goal?"

The commentator could not believe it. Mitchell's current position was still outside the penalty area. It was precisely at the top of the penalty arc.

Mitchell jumped really high, and even had time to adjust his body posture in the air to position himself to directly face the incoming football. Then he gave the football a powerful flick of his head. The football drew an arc in the air that could only be achieved with a kick to bypass Valdes standing slightly in front and lobbed to the far corner of the goal … …

Pique, who was behind Mitchell, could not believe his eyes—Mitchell actually chose a direct header to the goal outside the penalty area!

What made it even more unbelievable for him was that… the ball actually went in!

Valdes stood a little outside during Bentley's pass. He had wanted to intercept the pass but did not expect Bentley's pass to have a wide arc. He returned after he moved into the penalty area. He knew the ball was directed at Mitchell, but he did not expect Mitchell to dare attempt a header shot to score the goal from so far away…

Unable to respond in time, he hastily jumped. But how could he stop the ball?

"What a beautiful goal! Incredible! A long-range header shot from outside the penalty area! From Aaron Mitchell—This is his first goal of the season! It is also the first official goal he scored for Nottingham Forest!"

This time it was the English live commentator's turn to be crazy. He was upset just now when the Catalan commentator extended his voice next to him and shouted "GOOOOAL!" This time, he had a chance to take revenge. His mouth was like a Gatling machine gun, popping out with all sorts of flattering words.

"Valdes was completely stunned by a goal like this! Pique, Barcelona's best-performing player, was also at a loss in the face of such a beautiful goal! I bet he did not even think Mitchell would choose to shoot directly! What a genius idea! Mitchell had this extraordinary confidence in his header, and he did it! Congratulations! The twenty-year-old player will pull Nottingham Forest back from the edge of a cliff! It was definitely not a momentary lapse for Tony Twain to let him make his debut!"

Mitchell still stared blankly when he saw the football flew into the goal. He was uncertain as to whether he had really scored…

When he heard the deafening cheers ringing in his ears, he then realized he was not dreaming—this time he was not fantasizing in his bedroom. Even if he shouted as loud as he wanted, his father would not break the bedroom door and rush in to admonish him.

"GOOOAL! GOOOOAL!! GOOOOOOOAL——!!" He had rehearsed this action many times. He roared with his arms wide open and rushed toward the camera near the corner flag.

"Two point two meters tall, excellent headers, marvelous bounce! Where did Tony Twain find this giant? It was said that his breakout force is also very powerful… Formidable! We're seeing another master header of the ball! Look at his goal, who would have thought he had played as a goalkeeper and center back eight years ago?"

Aaron Mitchell had been so obscure that most Forest fans could not call his name at once. They could only chant during the cheering, "Number 9! Number 9! Our Number 9 master header of the ball!"

Mitchell's father was so dizzyingly happy in the stands that he kept shouting, "That's my son! That's my son! I'm his father! I'm his father! Hey! Son, I'm here!"

"You have a good son!" The fans next to him came up to him to hug and congratulate him. "Also, what's his name?"

"Aaron! Aaron Mitchell! Hey, guys, remember this name. I promise you'll often shout it in the future."

"I hope so, old chap!"

Soon, the shouts in the stands turned from "Number 9! Number 9! Our Number 9 master header of the ball!" into "Aaron! Aaron! Our master header of the ball, Aaron!"

Then the fans present made up a song for the goalscorer, and of course they started singing from the north grandstand.

"Aaron! Aaron Mitchell! If you don't know the name yet, you're outdated! Outdated!"

※※※

When he saw Mitchell used his header to "shove" the football into the goal that Valdes guarded, Tony Twain who put him on the starting lineup, also rose from his seat and cheered with the fans around him with his arms high up. To see the success of a player whom he had personally dug up, that sense of accomplishment was indescribable.

Kerslake, who celebrated in the technical area, got hold of Dunn and shook his head as he admitted his failure, "Tony does have a keen eye for players. Luckily I did not bet with him at that time… Aaron did a wonderful job!"

※※※

Unlike the jubilant Nottingham Forest technical area, on the Barcelona side, Guardiola, who had just picked up a water bottle for a sip of water, threw the bottle out before he could put it to his parted lips.

"Who the hell is this kid?!" He could not help but burst out with a curse word.

He never thought Nottingham Forest could score when Bentley passed the ball…

They could actually head the ball in from so far away. They were too lucky!

The manager issued the angry question, and the people around him could not help because they similarly did not know who the kid was. . .

There was no information about the player in the information about Nottingham Forest. It was like he had descended from the sky, bringing with him a gust of wind to blow away Barcelona's fire of hope.

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