Godfather Of Champions

Chapter 817: A Giant's WaltzTranslator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"Aaron Mitchell! A beautiful header outside the penalty area! Nottingham Forest equalized the score between the two sides!"

Huge cheers broke out at the City Ground stadium.

The Barcelona manager, Guardiola was furious on the sidelines and threw out the water bottle in his hand when the football was "shoved in" by Mitchell's header.

"Who is this kid?!"

Both assistant managers, Vilanova and Eusebio, cleverly chose to be silent at this moment.

Guardiola's anger was not directed at his own team. The fact that they could score a goal in such conditions, was already good. What angered him was that he knew nothing about the Nottingham Forest striker. He obviously could not make targeted arrangements without any information, such as he did not know before the number 9 player was outstanding at headers. Otherwise he would not let the team give Bentley the opportunity to play from the side …

After a while, Vilanova said, "Maybe… it isn't as bad as we think it will be? At least the total scores of both sides are currently tied and the away goals are also at a tie. We still have a chance to play during overtime…"

Guardiola frowned and shook his head. He spoke in a bad mood, "It's useless to play overtime with the current state of the team… The players will physically exhaust themselves very fast on such grounds."

He was right. Even if Nottingham Forest accidentally allowed Barcelona to drag the game into overtime, they were not worried at all. Tony Twain had taken that possibility into account before the game. The Forest players were fit enough to ensure that they could complete in a 120-minute intense game, while Barcelona was not. Playing on such a terrible pitch required more stamina than usual. Playing an additional thirty minutes was more likely to increase the chances of their players getting injured.

No wonder Twain was not anxious after the goal concede.

Everyone was lamenting in the Barcelona technical area and the players on the pitch were no better. After Barcelona's goal, they were in high spirits and wanted to build on the momentum. If they were to score a second goal, it would be almost impossible for Nottingham Forest to reverse the situation. Not only did they not score the second goal, they had unexpectedly let Nottingham Forest score another goal …

When they saw the football flew into the goal, their hearts instantly felt cold almost at the same time.

What scared them was not the score, but the game had gone on for seventy minutes, and they were still unable to adapt to the feeling of playing on this ground, while Nottingham Forest took to it with ease. What would be the outcome of the game if it were to continue like this? They did not dare think about it.

After the game resumed, Barcelona stepped up their defense against Mitchell. But this time Mitchell played even better. The Barcelona players could block him from shooting, but not necessarily prevent him from passing the ball. As a beacon for the front field, he could not only score goals himself, but also create all kinds of opportunities for his teammates. His height was his biggest weapon. At the same time, the skills he displayed in stopping and protecting the ball had caused the Barcelona defenders to be at a loss as to how to deal with him—once they were squeezed behind him, they could not tackle the ball without fouling.

Agbonlahor also got opportunities for two threatening shots due to Mitchell's excellent performance.

To make matters worse, four minutes after the Forest team scored, Messi withdrew from the game after he sprained his knee in a scuffle. The departure of the team's soul due to an injury hit Barcelona really hard. Many Barcelona players on the pitch had a lost look in their eyes… They really did not know how to play such a game.

The Catalan commentator began to scold Tony Twain and his Nottingham Forest team incessantly when Messi was injured. He accused them of no sportsmanship and destroying the players' bodies in order to win.

The English commentator, on the other hand, gave a long breath and said, "A player was finally injured…. It would be incredible if no one was hurt playing on such a bumpy field."

When Messi was injured, Guardiola finally could not stand it any longer. He rushed to the sidelines to look for the fourth official—the previous referee who was brought off the field due to the injury—and pointed to the field as he said to the fourth official, "Is this a venue where the Champions League can be played? It's bumpy and causes my player to get hurt! Is this also allowed?"

Unfortunately, Twain was not on the sidelines. Otherwise, he would step forward to rebut without hesitation, "The UEFA agreed. Why are you kicking up a fuss?"

The fourth official shrugged helplessly, "There's nothing we can do about it, Mr. Guardiola."

"I'm going file a complaint to the UEFA after the game! How can something like this that violates the sports ethics be allowed to happen?"

"Hey, look!" John suddenly pointed to the technical area below, where Guardiola spoke to agitatedly to the fourth official. In fact, everyone could tell what he was saying by looking at his gesticulations—he was pointing at the pitch.

"Ha! Is he sore about losing?" Twain laughed in his seat. "Want to go crying to the UEFA mommy?"

"I guess he must be protesting to cancel the game or lodging a complaint with the UEFA!"

"What a coward!"

An immediate deafening hissing of Guardiola erupted in the north grandstand. Even Twain booed in the crowd. He could not go down to argue with Guardiola. He obviously could only boo here.

The fourth official reassured Guardiola, "We will record all these details in the game report. But for now, please go back first, Mr. Guardiola."

Guardiola walked back with a black face. The boos grew increasingly louder, which he pretended not to hear.

Messi was eventually carried off on a stretcher with a painful expression. The team doctor's expression also did not look good. Guardiola could not help but swear as he looked upon the scene. He did not find Twain when he looked up toward the stands with the loudest boos. The guy was hiding among a crowd of fans, dressed up as they were and could not be told apart.

The UEFA sent him to the stands as punishment. From the looks of it, it might even have been a favor to him…

Guardiola gritted his teeth and thought so.

Messi could not continue to play so Guardiola brought on the young midfielder, Busquets to strengthen and increase control of the midfield. Busquets, who stood at 1.89 meters tall, had outstanding physical qualities. His presence could change Barcelona's weakness in competing for the headers. At the same time, his playing style was to the point which was very suitable for handling the ball on such a ground.

Before he went on, Guardiola patted Busquets on the shoulder and said, "Be careful, don't get hurt…"

It was indeed a helpless act.

As the game went on, the Barcelona players played with fury. It was quite normal… Who would not be angry at watching his teammates get hurt due to this terrible field? Moreover, they might follow in Messi's footsteps and could not calm down at the thought of it.

Even Pique also set aside his relationship with Nottingham Forest and did not hesitate to make Mitchell fall during defense. His approach "won" the boos of Nottingham Forest. He did not find it awkward.

Nottingham Forest did not care what the Barcelona players thought. As always, they attacked Valdes' goal and were bent on settling the fight within the ninety minutes.

But Busquets did prove to be effective on the field. His height and physical condition helped Barcelona to complete the midfield defense well. He and Pique teamed up to defend against Mitchell in the grab for the headers, thus freeing Puyol while Agbonlahor had little chance.

So, Nottingham Forest began to try to make more use of the long shots to seek scoring opportunities. Such an attack tended to end hastily after it hit the front field.

Twain was very unhappy about it and waited a little longer to see if the team show no signs of change. The north grandstand rang out with shouts from the fans, "Be patient! We have the upper hand! Don't shoot blindly!"

"Okay. Guys. I'm sure they heard it." After shouting a few times, Twain told them to stop. He did not want to do it too explicitly.

As the game progressed, the Barcelona players began to gradually recall their defensive lines till everyone retreated to their half of the field. They did not have much energy left to attack now, so they naturally concentrated on the defense. They wanted to be able to hold on to the current score so that they could have at least thirty minutes more to fight again.

Dunn stepped out from the technical area when he felt it was time for the team to attack. So, he signaled to indicate for the team to fully press.

"The Nottingham Forest offensive is pretty fierce! Barcelona has fully retreated to defend against it…Let's look at how many Barcelona players are in the penalty area when Nottingham Forest attacks. Eleven! They're all back!" The English commentator was quite proud of it. "Who says that Nottingham Forest only plays conservative and utilitarian football? Such scenes are not common in offensive football, are they?"

Such a situation might be humiliating to the Barcelona fans, because they had always been the ones to compress their opponents like this in previous games. They would never display such pathetic side to them.

Mitchell felt greater pressure than before since 1.89-meter-tall kid came on. Sometimes he might win while they competed for the header, but the header that was sent out might not go accordingly to plan. It seemed that Barcelona had made special arrangements to target his height and headers…

If it continued, Mitchell did not know he could still contribute to the team with his headers. He had played almost the entire game. During the long time, he had been playing directly up against two of Barcelona's best defenders and had expended more energy than he did in the last league game. His bounce and sprint s were not as powerful as before. Sometimes he could not guarantee that he could lock in his position.

When Bentley passed the ball over, he was pushed behind by Pique at the last minute even though he had locked in his position earlier. When he struggled to squeeze back, he felt as if he was pushing against the head of a train and could not jump. He watched helplessly as Pique headed the ball in front of him.

Barcelona fought back. His teammates were quick to defend. His spirit was willing, but his body was weak. He put his hands on his knees while he took big gulps of air. In the past, he always appeared as a substitute. Even though he was in the starting lineup in the last league game, he was also replaced midway and did not even complete the game. Now that he had persisted in such a fierce match for more than seventy minutes, he did not know if his body could sustain until then.

George Wood intercepted Silva's pass to Bojan in the backfield. He did not hesitate to send out a direct long pass.

Mitchell, who had been gasping for air in front of him just now, wanted to jump and catch the ball, but was ruled in an offside position—he was focused on taking a break but forgot to look around at the situation.

"Is his size a weak spot for his stamina?" Twain muttered to himself in the stands.

Then Mitchell got another chance, but this time he lost it quickly under the joint defense of Pique and Busquets after he controlled the ball under his feet. He was even crushed to the ground by the two players who were not as tall as himself, looking really vulnerable.

The Barcelona fans in the stands began to laugh at the stupid great hulk of a man.

"Aaron Mitchell has fully exposed his physical weakness. Being overly thin, he could not achieve anything under Barcelona's tight defense. His performance is worrying. Perhaps the Forest team should consider replacing him?" Even the commentator began to question Mitchell. "He scored a goal and he did well enough for a young player who made his debut in such an important game. The Forest team's coaching staff can't ask him to do more because that's impossible."

Kerslake also noted that Mitchell's performance during this period was not as active as it had been before. Apparently it had to do with Barcelona's targeted defensive arrangements. Guardiola found that the situation had turned better after he replaced Messi with Busquets. So, he simply brought on Keita to replace Xavi and changed for the team to play the 4-4-2 formation with three defensive midfielders and one attacking midfielder. The Forest team's ball was now difficult to deliver to Mitchell's feet as Barcelona's midfield defense had hardened. Another reason was that Mitchell's fitness had declined by a lot…

He looked for Dunn to discuss, "Aaron looks like he can't play anymore. The opponent's defense against him is too tight. He has overly exerted himself physically… plus it is his first time playing in such an important game. I think he did a great job, going head to head with Puyol and Pique for eighty minutes… Should we think about replacing him? The most important thing…" He hesitated for a bit before he said what he was worried about, "Tony insisted on putting him in the starting lineup. He performed wonderfully. But I'm afraid that the confidence he's just built up with much difficulty, will be destroyed if he continues playing. You must know that Pique and Puyol are not your average defenders. We may have been too hard on him to let him fight these two strong opponents…"

Dunn frowned. He was also considering whether to have Mitchell come off and bring on Ibišević who had better stamina and more superb shooting, to attack. But his mind would inevitably diverge in the other direction— what kind of choice would he make if he were Tony?

He realized that if he were Tony, he would probably insist on keeping Mitchell on the field.

In that case, would he also agree to do the same?

"David… I don't think Tony would agree to bring him off…" Dunn was hesitant.

"But we're the ones in charge of the team now, Dunn!" Kerslake was unhappy that Dunn used Tony Twain as an excuse.

Dunn also seemed to feel that he was too feeble. He could not always take Tony as his only guide. He thought about it and then made his choice, "Let us wait a little more. Give him five minutes…"

Kerslake nodded and stopped saying anything.

The game entered the 79th minute. Soon, there was only ten minutes left.

Once again, Nottingham Forest organized an attack.

Keita, Yaya Toure and Busquets formed a wall in front of Barcelona's penalty area, blocking the Forest team's attack.

The Forest team's midfielders very much wanted to send the ball to Mitchell's side, but under the opponent's tight defense, even if the ball was passed over, Mitchell could not hold it. What was the use of passing the ball over when he would soon lose it?

Tiago took the ball and was a little confused. He wanted to send the ball out. but did not know who to pass it on to. Just as he was looking in all directions and hesitating, his ball was jabbed away by Keita.

The Barcelona fans in the stands suddenly burst into huge cheers, but their cheers had just come on before coming into an abrupt end because Keita's ball was also intercepted by George Wood.

When Keita had ball successfully intercepted, Barcelona was just about to fight back, and their formation pressed slightly outwards.

Mitchell found himself in an offside position again, so he also followed suit and retreated. This time he could no longer let a teammate's pass turn into an offside position. But he retreated a little more this once. Instead of acting as the beacon in front, he simply retreated to Agbonlahor's position in one go—somewhat like a shadow striker. Did he over-compensate?

After George Wood intercepted the ball, he saw that Barcelona's rear defensive line hurriedly pull back and widen the distance just enough from Mitchell who ran back. No one was marking him up until now!

Wood did not hesitate to pass the football over.

Pique saw that the football was passed to Mitchell, and he suddenly pounced over. He had already seen through the tall guy. He knew the other man was close to collapse. As long as he put in a little more force in the back, his ball would be dropped.

Mitchell's stamina was really exhausted. He only had two things in mind right now—to receive the ball and not lose it. As for where and who the opponent was plus what they were going to do to him, he did not think about it at all. His oxygen-deprived brain simplified his thinking and anything superfluous was stripped away.

Pique rushed up and decided to speed up to bypass Mitchell from the side. He wanted to suddenly circle to the front to defend, intercept Mitchell's ball and then seize the opportunity to counterattack Nottingham Forest!

It was a good idea, but…

After picking up the ball with his back to the goal, Mitchell used his heel to arrange the ball while he jumped up, stepped on the ball, turned around and pulled the ball at the same time. With Pique as the axis, he turned one hundred and eighty degrees and evaded Pique's defense together with the ball! Pique went around to the front had instead brought about Mitchell's beautiful bypass!

"Wow! What a fantastic bypass!" The commentator could not help but call out, "A Marseille Turn!"

It was indeed visually stunning for a player with a height of 2.02 meters to produce a move as elegant as the waltz…

At this moment, Mitchell tossed the boss's warning that he was "not allowed to play with fancy footwork" to the clouds. When the football came, more than two years of hard training allowed his body to automatically make the most suitable choice—he did not use a header nor his body. He just used his own footwork to deal with it.

After being bypassed by Mitchell, Pique was a little dazed, and even forgot to return to defend as he stood in a daze at the same spot—he did not expect that when he pounced on him, the other man took advantage of it to bypass him. And he still did not know how the other side did it.

Thanks to the help of Busquets, Puyol had put his focus on Agbonlahor and the other. He did not expect Pique who played so well in the whole game would be bypassed so easily off and be caught off guard.

Fortunately, Busquets was so focused that he rushed up to defend when Mitchell bypassed Pique.

On the outside of the penalty area, Mitchell suddenly made a quick stop. After he pulled away from Busquets, he swung his leg to shoot!

Busquets reached his leg out to stop but did not think this was Mitchell's feint!

He simply dodged and got away from Busquets to enter the penalty area!

"He bypassed two people in one breath! My God. What are we seeing? The 2.02-meter-tall player is willfully showing off his footwork in front of Barcelona's defensive line! Is he possessed by Ibrahimović's spirit? The world is going crazy!"

Busquets, who had been flashed past by Mitchell, could hardly believe his eyes. He slipped to the ground and turned to look back at Mitchell in amazement. But by this time, he could only see his back.

At the very moment, Mitchell and the Mitchell that Guardiola understood were completely different players. He did not make use of his height and header advantage but displayed his stunning footwork! Guardiola, who saw the scene off the pitch, suddenly felt like a failure as he sat in his chair—there was so much more about the kid that he did not know! Who exactly was this kid?!

Mitchell himself seemed to have entered a mysterious realm where he forgot himself. Perhaps he was too tired, and his physical instincts in turn dominated his consciousness. Whenever an opponent was directly in front of him, his legs would automatically make the movements, leading him all the way forward. He did not know the faces of the opponents that appeared in front of him. He only knew he must go around them!

"Son! Bypass him! Bypass him!" Mitchell's father roared with excitement as he watched the scene in the stands.

Busquets' blocking did not succeed in tackling the ball, but he at least bought some time for Puyol and the other defenders.

Seeing how Mitchell bypassed two players alone and enter the penalty area, Puyol and the rest of Barcelona's defenders came up to encircle. They dropped their original defensive target and came charging aggressively at Mitchell as the target.

Mitchell did not even lift his head. After he entered the penalty area, he lifted his leg to shoot again!

Puyol took a big step forward to block in front of him, intending to stop the other player's shot with his body.

It was actually a feint, with Mitchell hooking the football back with his left foot. The experienced Puyol had already anticipated his move, so he did not make a move. He just locked down on his position.

However, he did not realize that Mitchell was not done hooking the ball. He used his right foot to hook the football back to its original position again. With two consecutive hooks of the ball, he finally shook open a crack. Mitchell continued to drill inside! Puyol, on the other hand, was stuck in place because changes in the center of gravity happened too quickly.

"Three players!" The commentator roared excitedly.

Breaking through Puyol's defense, Mitchell only had Valdes in front of him. He once again lifted his leg to seize the opportunity to shoot.

Whether he was doing it for real or still faking it this time, Valdes had to make a defensive move. He fell to the ground as he pounced toward the direction that Mitchell might have shot. With Alves making a slide tackle at the back against Mitchell, even if he fouled, he could not allow the kid to score so easily after tricking three Barcelona defenders!

Don't even think to score such a beautiful goal in front of Barcelona!

It was almost as if Mitchell had eyes in the back of his head. Without looking back, he pulled the ball to the right and jumped with the ball. He tricked Valdes and dodged Alves' slide tackle.

Although he evaded Alves, he also missed the first opportunity to shoot.

Alves tried to get up and grab the ball. But Mitchell tilted his body and his 2.02-meter-tall body pressed against him. This time he lifted his leg once again to shoot for the fourth time!

But it was not a feint…

"Mitchell! Mitchell! Mitchell!" From the moment he burst into the penalty area, the commentator kept shouting Mitchell's name, each time louder than the last. Because if he did not shout louder, he could not hear the words he was shouting, even with a soundproofed headpiece on—the entire City Ground stadium was like an erupting volcano with the continuous thunderous cheers coming in one wave higher than the previous wave.

"Mitchell! Mitchell—goooooooooal!! A beautiful goal from the ground! A brilliant goal! A magnificent goal! A tall player who was more than two meters tall used his long legs to play with the Barcelona defenders as much as he liked! He single-handedly overturned Barcelona's entire rear defensive line! It's a miracle! Who would have thought that this tall player could have such a delicate footwork skill! Hey, Mr. Tony Twain, had he really been playing as a center back for the last seven years?" The English commentator was almost mad. On the other side, the Catalan commentator was completely silent.

"Even Messi couldn't guarantee the control of the ball on such a bumpy pitch, but the 2.02-meter-tall kid did it! He levelled Barcelona's penalty area like a giant! The football was meek like a sheep under his feet. It was like he was playing on a flat field! The City Ground stadium, which made Barcelona's skillful players suffered greatly, was like the lawn in the back garden of his own home, where he drew a wonderful painting on it with his pair of long legs!"

"Listen to the cheers in the City Ground stadium——!"

"Aaron! Aaron! Aaron Mitchell!! If you don't know the name of Nottingham Forest's number 9 yet, you're already outdated!"

It was the cries of the Nottingham Forest fans, which became the only voice in the City Ground stadium during this time period.

Tony Twain held his head in his hands among the crowd. He could hardly believe his eyes. He knew that Mitchell's footwork skills were much better than his ability to shoot and dealing with physical confrontations. But he did not expect his footwork skills to be this good—to be able to keep the ball firmly under his feet on such a rough and bumpy terrain which made it difficult to control the ball and bypass four players as well as break away from the goalkeeper to finally send the ball into the empty goal.

Was this something which an average striker could do?

Was it just plain dumb luck? But good fortune only favored the people who were prepared.

Amid the unified cheers of the fans in the entire stadium, he seemed to see the ascendant of a new star player of tomorrow.

While his opponent, Guardiola sat paralyzed in his chair. He did not even have the strength to scold "who is this kid?"

If he really lost the game, he must admit he had no idea that Tony Twain would boldly deploy a new player in the game, and he knew nothing about the new player. It was the main reason for the failure of the game.

He thought the new player was of a great height and would not usually be good at his bounce and header. But Mitchell's header from outside the penalty area gave him a slap in the face. Next he thought the player was outstanding in his height, jump and headers. That meant his footwork skills must be terrible. According to the general law, such analysis was immaculate and unassailable.

He was wrong again…

When the football went in, it was as if Mitchell woke up from a dream. He looked at the football quietly parked inside the goal and turned around to look at the Barcelona players lying on the ground in disorder. He still could not believe his eyes.

I scored the goal?

How did it get in?

It looks like… I've bypassed all of them?

Ah! I'm done for! The boss will definitely must scold me! He said I wasn't allowed to show off my footwork skills… How can I forget!

The somewhat panicky Mitchell was startled by the huge cheers coming from behind him. He looked back at the grandstand with countless arms waving, and everyone roaring his name.

"Aaron! Aaron! Aaron Mitchell! Aaron Mitchell!! If you don't know his name, you're outdated!"

He could not find the boss among the crowd because all he could see was arms and excited faces. He did not know if the boss was in the cheering crowd.

He turned his eyes from the stands and when he turned his gaze to the field again, he saw his teammates rushing toward him excitedly with arms wide open.

Then he was pounced onto the ground. His ears were filled with hoarse shouts.

They were shouting, "Aaron, you bastard! You stole all of our limelight!!"