Godfather Of Champions

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

When Tony Twain stood on the podium in a drenched suit and looking somewhat sloppy, the person waiting in front of him to give out the award was the UEFA President, Michel Platini.

The UEFA's number one figure had a smile on his face as he looked at Twain pulled his wet hair away from his eyes and did not rush him.

Twain had just been splashed from head to toe by the players with the water they normally drank, which happened after he was carried around the field for a round. Twain was caught off guard and cut a sorry figure. He also had to be thankful that the boys did not pour champagne on him. Otherwise, he would have been sticky all over his body, which would be extremely uncomfortable.

Platini had been looking at Twain with a smile as if he was looking at something amusing. It was not until Twain finally tidied his messy hair in front of his forehead, that he finally extended his hand and said, "Congratulations, Mr. Twain."

Twain returned the greeting, "Thank you, Mr. President."

If Twain had been loyal to UEFA in the beginning, the smile on Platini's face would have been even more resplendent at the moment. He would have patted Twain's face and kissed him on the cheeks like how the French did it and said, "Congratulations, my dear Tony."

However, having to now award a trophy to a team from the Premier League made Platini unable to smile in his heart. Five years ago, the Premier League teams, represented by Nottingham Forest and Manchester United, had occupied the top four spots in the UEFA Champions League back to back, much to the UEFA's displeasure. Therefore, every effort was made to curb the influence of the Premier League teams in the Champions League, including covert manipulation of the draw results and the appointment of the referees. Later on, when Tony Twain had a heart attack and Nottingham Forest was in decline, the Premier League whirlwind became a little weaker. Unfortunately, Ferguson broke through layers of encirclement and suppression in the Champions League final before he retired and won the title. The strength of the Premier League could not even be contained by the UEFA's plotting and scheming.

Now it was even more so. Tony Twain came charging back with Nottingham Forest and once again lifted the Champions League trophy, leaving all the European teams to become onlookers. If it were to continue to develop in this way, the UEFA Champions League should simply be renamed as "UEFA Europa League."

It was definitely not the future that the UEFA wanted to see. On their lips, they said that "it is not good for the development of football if a certain nation's league monopolizes the Champions League quarter-finals" when in fact, their real idea was that "after a certain nation's national league monopolizes the Champions League quarter-finals, it is bound to make the other league fans lose interest in subsequent games, which will affect the ratings, and then directly affect the TV broadcast shares. In short, it was all about the money."

The UEFA was not a charity and had no government funding behind it. They had to be responsible for its profit and losses so naturally they had to act accordingly to how the money came.

If there were three Premier League teams and any other national league team to advance in the top four every year, even the most hardcore fans would suffer from aesthetic fatigue one day. What would they do when they suffered from aesthetic fatigue? They would not watch the games, so the television broadcasters would in turn scale back their shares and the advertisers would cut back on their investments. Finally, there would be less and less money.

Platini raised the gold medal in his hand. At this time, Twain should bow his head and let Platini hang it around his neck. But he did not do so. He had not done that for a long time. He was not used to bowing in front of others, even to accept a gold medal. He always took the medal from the other person by hand.

Platini looked helplessly at the unruly man and handed the gold medal to him to his hand.

Twain saw the displeasure in Platini's eyes, even though it soon disappeared. He knew Platini was not happy, but he did not care.

After he received the gold medal, Twain put it into the pocket of his suit jacket straight away, looking unimpressed. The Real Madrid fans must have been furious in their hearts when they saw the scene - the highest honor which they yearned for was actually treated like this by the rude and uneducated English country boor.

Tony Twain carried the gold medal in his pocket and shook hands with a few of the officials behind Platini. Then he walked to the side of the stage and waited with everyone for George Wood to take to the stage.

It was the highlight of the award ceremony - to give out the trophy.

As George Wood stepped onto the stage, his teammates on the other side were making hand gestures at him and whistling. One by one was excited like they had seen a beautiful naked woman- at this moment in their eyes, the "Big Ears" trophy with its wonderful arc reflecting the light on its shiny shell was indeed a beautiful naked woman in a sexy pose seducing them.

Wood bent over to let Platini hang the gold medal around his neck and then he walked with the UEFA president to the podium where the Champions League trophy was set.

"Champion! Champion! Champion!" The Forest players were shouting in unison at the back. They did not care what the UEFA thought about them taking the title. They just knew that the championship title was theirs!

Platini's attention was caught by the sudden outburst of shouts at the back. He turned around to look back at the group of players with a smile of praise on his face. Twain watched at the side as he said in his heart that this official was indeed self-restrained….

Platini lifted and handed the trophy to Wood.

"Congratulations to you all, George. You are the European champions!"

Wood took the trophy unceremoniously and then held it high. His teammates behind him roared as they did the lifting of the trophy action together, "All hail—-the champion!"

Meanwhile, countless red confetti burst forth from behind the podium, and many more alternating red and white ribbons streamed down from the roof of the Bernabeu stadium, accompanied by the sudden blaring of the music, "We Are the Champions." In the enemy's lair, Nottingham Forest was crowned as the king of Europe.

This time, they were the king of kings - the Treble winner.

"… We're the champions, my friend! We are the champions, victorious in every battle…"

Amidst the sound of the music, under the rain of confetti, Twain looked up and watched the scene. Those ribbons of streamers fluttering in the air glowed under the stadium's bright lights, as if they were fragments of memories, each with a face and a memory. Eleven years on, he had been living here for so long. Some people's names and faces had faded in his memory, while the others were still clear in his mind. Was it going to end like this?

Looking at those confetti dancing in the night sky, Twain felt somewhat reluctant in his heart as he thought on.

※※※

The reporters at the press conference were getting impatient as Twain was slow to arrive. He had changed into a suit and his hair was toweled dry. He looked more put together than he did when he received the award. Furthermore, he suddenly shook out a red cloak on the stage and acted like he was in a bullfight.

"What do all the Spanish reporters here think of my training? Let's hear some applause." He smiled and said to the people below, looking smug. "We've just killed a giant bull." He made a sword piercing action.

He grinned at the Spanish reporters below whose faces had changed color. He had been looking forward to the meeting today since the pre-match press conference. He was glad that he had the last laugh. The red cloak for the bullfight was not bought in vain.

The faces of the Spanish reporters below suddenly darkened considerably. No one gave him a standing ovation.

It was an open provocation, and the action also set the tone of the press conference - if you're going to provoke, we're going to pick a quarrel.

Míchel left after he finished the interview before him. The carnage that was going to happen next naturally had nothing to do with him. After Twain taunted the Spaniards, he took a seat, nodded to the host, who signaled that the reporters could ask questions.

All the reporters raised their hands. Twain did not carefully look at which of the Spanish reporters here were the ones who had treated him with disdain just now or which of the English reporters who might be partial towards him. He simply pointed at someone. The person who stood up was a reporter for the Spanish newspaper . A middle-aged balding man spoke with gritted teeth. Apparently, he was strongly provoked by Twain's "performance" just now. He said, "First of all, congratulations on your team winning the Treble. Secondly, I would like to ask about Pepe and that red card. He may face a very serious punishment. Do you have anything to say, Mr. Twain?"

Pepe's nasty and violent foul in the game was certain to be the focus of many media attention after the game. The Spaniards would use it to attack Twain and topple the results that Nottingham Forest had achieved. And now, they wanted to spoil the good mood that Twain had just now at the press conference.

Twain raised his eyebrows and put his smile away as he said, "I support Pepe. The impulse was understandable at the time. After all, Real Madrid equalized the score with that penalty shot in the final minute. It's such a coincidence. If it were me, I would be angry." Unsurprisingly, Twain chose to be fiercely protective of his player and he covertly scolded the UEFA.

"Do you support the beating? The Marca reporter followed with the question.

"Under those circumstances at the time, I could understand it even if he hit someone." Twain replied expressionlessly. "If it were me…" Twain paused a little and with a sudden big smile on his face, he added, "… I might perhaps hit someone too."

The reporter of the Marca newspaper looked unhappy and sat down in anger. He was probably figuring out how to write bad things about Twain in the newspaper.

The second person who was called upon was still a Spanish reporter. This time, it was the newspaper. The target was still directed at Tony Twain. But the reason had changed to be about the tactics. "Wasn't it abnormal that Nottingham Forest had repeatedly attacked the Real Madrid players throughout the game, with thirty fouls in one hundred and twenty minutes?"

"It's a normal tactical arrangement." Twain put the responsibility squarely on himself and said, "I instruct them to do so. As you can see, Mr. Reporter." Twain pulled the gold medal out of his pocket. A ray of golden light dazzled under the lights caused the reporter to turn his head to the side and slightly closed his eyes. "We are the champion."

"How can such a champion to take the title?" The reporter was upset by Twain's flippant behavior. What he said was already out of a reporter's scope of questions and somewhat lost rationality.

Twain spread his hands with a look of innocence and said, "Why ever now? We didn't steal or rob. We didn't rely on the referees nor the UEFA and we didn't have the massive home field advantage. We also didn't have the help of a last-minute penalty shot. We're one player short as compared to Real Madrid. Under such circumstances, we still have the championship title. If we had no reason to win the championship, then dear Mr. Reporter, you tell me, is there any other team in the world that had more reason to take…this one than us??" Twain swayed the gold medal in front of the reporter's eyes again. He deliberately wanted to annoy the other party.

"All right, next person." Twain ignored the Spaniard, who was red in the face and biting his lower lip and turned his head to call up someone else again.

It was an English reporter who stood up this time, but in a sense he was still Twain's "enemy"- a reporter from The Sun.

The Sun reporter was well-versed in the way of reporters. He said a few words of congratulation to Twain and asked a few painless questions which were not their purpose. If he were to play along, he wanted something explosive. He was unafraid of attracting hate. If he did not attract hate from people, then he was mediocre. A reporter must have the awareness to not change his colors even if tens of millions of people spat on and cursed on him.

"Mr. Twain, I heard that your contract will expire on June 30th, but you still haven't renewed your contract with the club until now. Is there anything…. you're hiding?"

The authentic English paparazzi indeed did a great job. He immediately shocked everyone present. Not many people knew about the news that Twain had not renewed his contract with the club. It could be said that even the Forest players did not know about the matter. He did not expect The Sun reporter to find out about it.

Twain had no choice but to sit up and take notice of the man in front of him.

"It's a shame that you didn't go work for the Scotland Yard, Mr. Reporter." Twain's words were tantamount to acknowledging The Sun's story. The discussion below became so loud that the host had to step forward to maintain order.

But the reporter definitely wanted to make things awkward for Twain. He continued, "In other words, you admit that this matter is true. So, may I ask the reason why you choose not to renew your contract?"

Twain was prepared ahead of time and came out with the excuse to deal with Evan and Allan. He said, "I did not want to be disturbed by the terms of the contract and the salary package before the Champions League game."

"That means it will be renewed after the Champions League, won't it? Ah, Mr. Twain, you have to understand the feelings of those who care about you and the Forest fans. They must all want you to renew your contract and continue the glory as the club's meritorious manager…"

These words sounded dignified, but Twain knew that the asshole was not well-intentioned.

"You'll know when the time comes, Mr. Reporter." Twain was certainly not to deal with too. He replied and ended the question.

Perhaps because three people had picked a quarrel in a row and spoiled his mood, Twain did not picked casually this time. Instead, he chose Pierce Brosnan.

Brosnan clearly did not know that Twain had not renewed his contract with the club yet. It looked like Twain had indeed covered it up tightly. He looked a little distracted when he stood. He must still be thinking about what had just happened. The questions he asked were also generic and without any news value. There was nothing about the team's tactical arrangements. He did not praise the performances of a few players to play or talked about the feelings of winning the Treble…

Twain had a ready answer to every question. The two of them seemed to have already rehearsed earlier. The question and answer flower quickly. The other reporters below were earnestly doing shorthand but were shaking their heads inside at the same time - it looked like the show was already over.

After he finished answering these questions, Brosnan suddenly came to his senses. He still wanted to ask, "Tony, is it true that you're renewing the contract after the Champions League?"

Twain was stumped by Brosnan's frank question and his face looked ugly all of a sudden. However, such a look only appeared on his face for less than a second. He immediately returned to a smiling face.

"You'll find out at that time, Mr. Brosnan."

When Pierce Brosnan heard what Twain addressed him at the end, sweat beads appeared on his forehead. He realized that the king of Nottingham Forest was angry. But it reinforced his doubts about Twain's failure to renew his contract with the club.

A year ago, the media speculated about Twain's contract extension with the club. At the time, the Forest Football Club offered him a new five-year contract and more than doubled his current salary. Not only did the salary figure put him up there in terms of accomplishments, it also bumped him up there in the ranks of England's top managers in terms of earnings. Initially, the negotiations went smoothly for everyone and Twain was already ready to sign a new contract. But unexpectedly, Allan forcibly meddled and sold Lennon. Twain said nothing and immediately suspended the renewal negotiations. He even told Evan to wait a year later to talk about this matter.

What Twain did was high-handed at the time and both parties were unhappy. Word on the street and even rumors stated that Twain would leave to coach Manchester United that summer. Although Twain did not leave in the end, which surprised those who thought he should have left, the rumors of a conflict between him and the club were rife and caused a stink for a while. It directly affected the team's summer preparations for the competition. The will of the players in the team was unstable and transfers also tended to stagnate. As a result, the Forest team started the new season slower than the other rival teams. Otherwise they would not have to chase Arsenal so fiercely at the end of the season to capture the title.

Brosnan was aware that Twain and Allan were at odds, but did not expect him to really not renew his contract with the club thus far…

After this final game, it was believed that Evan Doughty would be eager to come up with a new contract. At that time, which course would Twain take?

The Nottingham Evening Post reporter's eyebrows knitted together. He suddenly had a bad feeling about it.

By this time, the man in his eyes had got up to leave, and the host hurriedly announced that the press conference was over. The reporters still wanted to ask questions, but Twain just walked out without even turning his head back.

It should have been a celebratory and joyous press conference, but there was hardly a trace of the festive atmosphere to be felt…

Pierce Brosnan looked around and had such an idea in his mind.

※※※

Instead of going back to the locker room, Twain went straight to the bus parked outside the stadium, where his team was waiting for him.

Twain stepped on the bus and waved his hands as he announced, "Let's go back and celebrate, guys! The season is over, so don't think about anything else. Let's party to our hearts' content! Let loose and play!"

He was greeted by a crowd of people cheering wildly. After a tough season and gritting their teeth to persevere to this moment, what was it all for? It was to hear the boss say these words!

Previously, the boss would always brandished the whip at the back and yelled, "Run! Keep running! Don't let up!" Now that they were finally at the finish line, and also the first to meet the line, they did not have to care about anything. They could stop and take a good breath.

The bus was suddenly lively. Some people were discussing where to go relax during the holidays. Some people were busy calling their families and girlfriends. Some people simply laid back on the seats to take a nap.

Twain did not care how much of a din they made. He sat down next to Kerslake and let out a gentle breath.

"It's finally over, David."

"Ah yes." Kerslake replied with a smile, "I've got to have a good rest for a long time!"

"Me too." Twain nodded.

"You really have to have a good rest. Don't worry your wife too much. You have worked too hard during this period."

Twain gave a grunt of agreement and then adjusted the seat to lean his body back and closed his eyes, He said, "I'm going to sleep for a while. Wake me when we reach, David."

The luxury bus slowly pulled out of the Bernabeu stadium as the stadium lights slowly went out and headed for the hotel where they were staying. Everyone was still making a din in the bus. Leaning next to Kerslake, Twain was already lightly snoring away.

The din had nothing to do with him anymore

※※※

When Twain was woken up, the bus was parked in front of the hotel, and the players had all gotten out of the bus, leaving only him, Kerslake and the driver in the bus.

"Huh? Ah, we're here?" Twain rubbed his face and sat up from his seat. But he forgot to adjust the seat angle, so his back relaxed and he laid back again. The feeling of weightlessness scared him and the expression on his face changed. He only returned to normal after he leaned back to the seat.

When he saw him looking tired like this, Kerslake laughed, "Looking like this, where is the demeanor of a European championship manager?"

"I'm still not fully awake yet…Yawn - " Twain gave a yawn and stretched his back before he sat up again and slightly moved his neck and shoulders which were a little sore from maintaining the sleeping posture. "I had a dream."

He looked at the old partner who had been with him for ten years. The lights inside the bus had gone out, but his eyes flashed in the dark, as if reflecting the lights outside the hotel entrance.

"A good dream?" Kerslake asked, following Twain's words.

"A beautiful dream." Twain nodded with certainty as he got up and left his seat. "A rare beautiful dream." He strode and stepped out of the bus.

There were still many reporters and hardcore fans of the Forest team waiting at the hotel entrance. A commotion broke out when they saw Twain walk down, leaving the security guards and policemen in charge of maintaining order to be on high alert.

Fat John and his group were already inside. When they saw Twain, they started shouting, "Tony! Hey, Tony!"

Twain heard the shouts and waved to them.

"Thank you, Tony! Thank you!" The group of people seemed to drink a lot and looked very excited. They kept shouting "thank you" to Twain. They were obviously thanking him for giving the Forest team the Treble that had never been won even in Clough's era.

Skinny Bill drank the most. He was flushed from his head to the base of his neck. When he saw Twain, he wanted to break through the barrier set up by the security guards and policemen. However, he did not have much strength due to too much drink. He was unstable on his feet and was pushed back by the police. Amid the jostle, he also vaguely shouted out, "Tony… hiccup! Tony, next year… Next year, we'll win… the Treble, the Treble… hiccup!"

Twain waved to him and said, "Certainly."

Then he walked into the hotel lobby. The security guards and police officers were relieved and withdrew to the door. With the help of the favorable location, they kept the frantic fans and reporters outside.

The players did not wait for the boss. Instead, they went out in packs of two and three. They had their own ways of recreation and fun, which had nothing to do with the manager. Twain also did not want to join in the fun. He and Kerslake went straight into the elevator to get on the floor where his room was located.

As soon as they came out of the elevator, the two men saw Evan Doughty and Allan Adams standing outside.

Evan smiled and greeted Kerslake first. Then he turned to Twain and said, Tony, we've been waiting for you for a long time."

Although Kerslake was usually carefree and loud, he was not a fool. He knew that Mr. Chairman must have come to look for Twain about something. So, he made an excuse and left first.

Kerslake discreetly left, and Twain continued to stand inside the elevator.

Evan looked at him and smiled again, "If you don't come out soon, you'll have to go back to the first floor."

Twain touched his nose and walked out with his head bowed. He longed to go back to the first floor. Although the idea had been hovering in his mind for a whole year, he still felt complicated when it was really time to say it out. He was very hesitant.

On this night, it was the night of the Champions. It was also a sleepless night for more than half of the people in Nottingham.

The players who had worked hard for a season would also have fun and indulge without restraint on a night like this. It was a night of revelry.

As for the reporters who hurried back from the stadium and the hotel, it was destined to be a busy night of work.

And now, for the three people standing at the elevator entrance, it was… a night for a showdown..