Godfather Of Champions

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

When Tony Twain returned to Nottingham with the Football Association Challenge Cup, everyone knew what his next goal would be. At this juncture, he would be letting the two previous championship titles down if he did not win the Treble.

Like the league tournament, Twain gave the team a day off after winning the title to allow the players and coaches to have a break before they got ready to take on a strong opponent.

Having won two championship titles, Tony Twain once again became the focus of media attention. The reporters were unwilling to give up any opportunity to get close to him and interview him. Even if he was on vacation, he still had reporters who wanted to interview him.

Pierce Brosnan was one of them. He had one advantage over the other reporters—he had Twain's personal cell phone number, and he could contact him anywhere at any time, while the other reporters did not have that privilege at all. Twain disliked the media. Even though he would not have been successful and arrogant had it not been for the media, he still would not show face to the media. Therefore, when the other media wanted to interview the manager, Tony Twain exclusively, they could only submit applications to the club and then wait for a reply. Their applications usually did not receive a positive response, so Twain had been called "England's most difficult manager to interview" and ranked first on the "reporters' most unpopular manager list."

Brosnan planned to contact Twain on his private line today to request for an interview.

But he made three calls in a row from 8 o'clock in the morning, and Twain's cell phone was turned off.

Brosnan shook his head in puzzlement. He thought for a while and could only put the reason down to Twain must still be in bed with his wife, either sleeping or making love and so he did not turn on his cell phone.

It looked like it was difficult to interview this man…

※※※

Brosnan thought Twain must be doing a morning exercise with his wife. But in truth, he was wrong.

At eight o'clock, Twain went out alone in his car while Shania was still asleep in bed after a night of passion.

Even if Shania had awoken, Twain would not bring her along. For the place where Twain was going and the matter that he needed to settle, he did not want anyone else to disturb, even if it was his wife, the most important person in his life. In order not to be disturbed by others, he even turned off his cell phone.

The place he was heading to was south of Nottingham, near Clifton. Like the north of Nottingham, there was also a large dense forest. Behind a church on top of a hill was a cemetery hidden from view in the woods.

Gavin Bernard, the first fan in George Wood's life, laid in rest here.

In fact, Twain came here, not long ago. Although he was Briton, he still had not forgotten some of the traditional Chinese customs deep within him. For example, every year on the Qingming Festival, he would come back here to make offerings to Gavin. On this day, Twain would certainly take time out to make a trip here. If the team had a game on day of the Qingming Festival, he would come here a day ahead or the day after the game. The people around him did not quite understand why he chose to visit Gavin at this time, because there was no Qingming Festival in the Western countries.

Coming back here again in a little more than a month, Twain brought Gavin two pieces of good news.

"The league tournament and the Football Association Challenge Cup ." Twain stood at Gavin's gravestone and said to him, "Everyone out there is going nuts with happiness. Do you know how many years it has been that Nottingham Forest have not won a Football Association Challenge Cup ? Fifty-five years. It's half a century. Heh, to be honest, I didn't think of this issue before the game. But when the reporters asked about it after the game, I only found out then that we had not won the Football Association Challenge Cup for so long. All is good now. Fifty-five years of resentment is finally over."

"Have you watched those two games? It was so hard to win the league tournament. I almost gave up… Truthfully speaking, I'll only say these words to you alone, Gavin. No one else knew… I really wanted to give up in the final three minutes. I even figured out how to deal with the nasty reporters. To eat a table?! I'll easily eat a table made of chocolate cake. Anyway, I did not state the material of the table! Ha!"

Twain laughed smugly.

"It's really tiring to be a manager. I almost ended up down there to accompany you. But I'm tough. So many people want me to die but I refuse to die. So, I'm still alive, and I'll continue to win championship titles for you. But …" Twain thought for a bit, "There's something buried in my heart for almost a year, and I didn't tell anyone, not even my wife. Now I'm going to tell you, because I know you won't blabber to anyone… I'm going to give them a big surprise when the time comes!"

Twain turned to look around. There was no one else in the small cemetery but himself. The wind blew from the forest through the cemetery and the sound of rustling leaves was the only sound that could be heard.

Twain got down on one knee and held the gravestone as if he were stroking Gavin's head. He bent his head down and wriggled his lips beside the tombstone, but no sound came out.

With that, he stood up again, with a smile on his face and said, "What do you think of the idea? I really look forward to seeing their surprised expressions by then. But I have to say I'm sorry to you… Well, you're not going to be the chairman of the Nottingham Forest club anyway. If you really could, I would still be in that position even if I were to be ninety-eight years old. Sometimes I look forward to that day and I'm excited just thinking about it in my mind."

Twain cocked his head, as if he was fantasizing about a future like that.

"But…" He looked away and his gaze focused again on the tombstone. "I can only think about it in my mind."

"There's only one championship title left." Twain sighed, "I suddenly have a kind of tiredness that appears at the end. Do you feel that way, Gavin? After you've run a marathon and saw that the end is near, but your body doesn't feel right—you don't want to run, your legs are running out of energy, you can't breathe as if you're just going to stop. Because you're tired."

Twain simply sat down, face to face with the tombstone.

"I really don't want to run, but I can only say this to you here. I can only whine to you. If I really were to fall before the finish line, I'll kill myself. Regardless of the outcome of the next game, at least I can't give up until the end of the game. You know what, Gavin? So many people are looking to me. My players, my colleagues, my boss, my supporters, my opponents… Countless eyes are on my back and I can't make any mistakes. My supporters will be disappointed if I make a mistake while my opponents will clap their hands in delight. You're going to say why do I have to go head to head against so many people, don't you? I can't help my lousy temper. I really can't pretend….to be a nice guy. A tepid-like character is not suitable for me. I'm extreme. Either I die or they die…I'm forty-five years old and still act like a child."

"Well, actually I'm not that old…" Twain coughed. He felt uncomfortable once he stated the age. "I'll tell you a little secret, which is something that not even the closest person to me knows about. I… Well…" He looked up and glanced around. There was still no one else around. "I came from another time and space. In that time and space, I'm not the Forest manager. I'm not even English. I'm very ordinary, and I don't know you either. If I hadn't come here, you wouldn't be lying here, would you?"

Twain shook his head and said, "Let's not talk about this. I will lose my fighting spirit after talking too much about some stuff."

While he was still chatting to Gavin as he sat on the ground, a person had turned in from the entrance of the cemetery.

※※※

George Wood bought a bunch of flowers outside the church and asked for a card. He wrote on it with a crooked handwriting, "For Gavin, your George."

He only wrote "George" the best, which was trained from signing autographs all the time for the fans.

As he wrote on the card, he remembered how Twain had laughed at his ugly handwriting.

"Look at the words you wrote. It's worse than a grade school student's handwriting!"

Wood inserted the card into the bouquet and picked it up as he went out of the florist.

It was at this point that the owner of the florist dared to ask him in a whisper, "Are you really George Wood?"

When Wood walked in through the door, he thought he was seeing things.

Wood did not say much. He just picked a bunch of lilies, asked for a card, paid, and left. The entire proceeding took less than a minute from the moment he stepped into the shop and he only spoke two sentences.

"Please give me a bouquet of lilies and a card."

"Thank you."

Wood did not have a habit of wearing sunglasses to hide his identity when he went out. But he would not take the initiative to expose himself either. The florist did not react at first because he did not think that George Wood would come to his little flower shop. It was not until Wood left that he reacted.

"What's he doing here?" He frowned and muttered in puzzlement.

※※※

As Wood walked into the cemetery, he saw a man sitting in front of his destination, as if he was saying something.

When he got closer, he recognized the man sitting on the ground and it was the boss.

Twain also realized that Wood was nearby. Neither of them was surprised to see each other here.

Twain stood up and gave way to Wood, who stepped up to put the bouquet in front of the gravestone, close to the bouquet that Twain had placed before him.

"Do you want me to give you some privacy?" Twain was going to leave first.

Wood shook his head and said, "No. I have nothing to say."

"You're so heartless, George." Twain began to tease George.

Unexpectedly, Wood replied, "I don't know what to say."

Twain stared blankly for a moment and then waved his hands. He said, "Then let's go. I'll give you a ride back."

Wood nodded his head.

The two men glanced at Gavin Bernard's gravestone at the same time and turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to buy a car, George? You're now a big star. People may laugh at a big star without a car."

"I've no use for it at the moment."

"You have such low expectations in life… Are you not going to find yourself a girl? How old are you, George?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven and you still don't want to look for a girl. Do you want people to say you're gay?"

"I love my mother."

Twain turned to give Wood a glance and said nothing.

No one would believe it if it was known that a twenty-seven-year-old star was still single. But it was to be expected and reasonable when it came to George Wood. There seemed to be room for only one woman in his life, and that was his mother. The child with an Oedipus complex could never imagine how it would be like to have another woman share his love. Even Twain had a deep-rooted belief that it would be a strange sight if one day a woman who was not his mother, were to be by Wood's side…

※※※

When he sent Wood home, Twain met Sophia.

Sophia was also delighted to see Twain. Her face was even flushed. She wanted Twain to stay for lunch, but Twain tactfully declined because he had to go home to spend time with his wife. Shania must have made lunch and waited for him.

Sophia was a little disappointed, but her look of disappointment was soon covered up.

Twain did not even go inside the house. He would be in a complicated mood every time he faced Sophia. He knew how Sophia felt about him, but he was a man with a wife, and he did not think it was appropriate for him to be with Sophia. In order not to continue to let Sophia labor under this delusion, sometimes he deliberately kept his distance. It would certainly hurt Sophia a little. But it was better that than to lie to her.

While Sophia was urging Twain to stay for lunch, Wood stood at the side and said nothing.

Twain recalled Wood's words and felt strange. He did not linger and directly said goodbye to the mother and son.

In his heart, he only hoped that Sophia and George would live on happily.

※※※

Pierce Brosnan intended to call all day. However, Twain's cell phone was always turned off. He was confused. Twain's cell phone was rarely switched off. Even at two or three o'clock in the morning, a call to him would still go through. Of course, it was also unsurprising that he would be scolded by him after the call had connected and then be hung up on.

He thought of a lot of possibilities in his head. The more he thought, the worse it got, and he decided not to think about it.

He did not get through until after 9 p.m.

When he heard that the sound coming from the line was not prompting him with "the number you have dialed is not in service" message, but the "beep-beep-beep-beep" tone of waiting to answer, he almost felt the impulse of excitement.

"I've been calling you all day, Tony!" Brosnan cried excitedly on the phone.

"Are you trying to woo me? Unfortunately, I don't like men, Mr. Reporter." Twain joked with Brosnan.

"I wanted to ask you for an interview. Now that you are a red-hot star, I was afraid that I would be too late, and you would be snapped by someone else …"

"I'm not a merchandise… All right, I promise you, but not right now, not tomorrow, and not the day after tomorrow… I will not take any interviews until the Champions League final. I have rejected all the applications sent to the club for interviews. You're no exception as well, even though we have a good friendship ."

"Is it so that you can prepare for the Champions League final with a peace of mind?"

"Of course. Actually, I'm doing you a favor, Mr. Reporter. When I win the Champions League, it's going to be difficult for you to ask me for an interview." Twain said seriously on the phone.

Twain was putting on airs, but Brosnan did not care, as long as Twain had promised him an interview.

"Well, that's great. I wanted to confirm this… Well then, I'll leave you guys be…" Brosnan hurriedly hung up because he heard Shania's laughter on the other end of the line.

※※※

Shania could not help but laugh when she saw that Twain's straight face as he put on airs.

Twain put down his cell phone and opened his hands to Shania.

Shania immediately came closer and leaned in her husband's arms.

"Where do you want to go this summer, Shania?" Twain gently smelled Shania's hair and asked.

"Aren't you going to be busy? Is BBC asking you to do the commentary for the World Cup in South Africa? When the World Cup is over, the team should be training again, shouldn't they?" Shania asked strangely.

Twain smiled instead and said, "Who can say what's going to happen in the future? Where do you want to go?"

Shania curled her body in Twain's arms and closed her eyes as she enjoyed Twain's caress while she muttered, "Anywhere is fine, just as long as I'm with Uncle Tony…"

Twain lovingly stroked Shania's hair and said nothing.