Godfather Of Champions Chapter 814

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

Víctor Valdés was perhaps the worst goalkeeper of any European club. It wasn't because of his lack of potential, but because of his instability of play. He often exhibited some inexplicable low-level mistakes, such as kicking the ball directly to the other side's feet, creating an assisted offense for the opponent, or fumbling the ball after diving on it…

But this time it was not his fault.

Nottingham Forest's turf and field combined to make the goal. Valdés knelt on the ground and gave a hard slap to the culprit: a bulging piece of turf in front of his foot. This was where the football rolled when it suddenly jumped and playfully dodged Valdés's right leg, scoring Forest's goal.

“Nottingham Forest's lousy field has made a contribution!” the narrator roared with excitement. “Alves's return pass has caused Valdés' mistake, and Agbonlahor scored with ease!” This scene was so dramatic that Barcelona's players could not believe their eyes until now, and Valdés could only vent his anger on the turf. Nottingham Forest now gained the lead, tied with Barcelona on aggregate score, and took the advantage with an away goal!

“Passing the ball back to the goalkeeper in this situation, Alves must also take responsibility for this lost goal!”

When Barcelona's players saw the football slip away from Valdés's feet, everyone was in a state of desperate panic. Some people even hugged their heads prematurely because they didn't want to watch.

Guardiola, looking expressionless, sat in the coach's chair with his hands around his chest. It was impossible to tell how he was feeling from his face. He was not the kind of head coach who immediately went into a frenzy after losing the ball—this was the great difference between him and Tony Twain.

Looking at what was next door, Kerslake raised his arms, charged out of the coaching room, and hugged whoever he saw, displaying Tony Twain's style. Don, another assistant coach, was calm. He just clenched his face and waved.

What about Tony Twain?

As the ball slipped through Valdés's feet, Twain rose from his seat like everyone else around him, raising his arms and cheering.

Eventually, when he imitated tens of thousands of fans and shouted, “Forest! Forest! Nottingham Forest!” he felt an excitement that he never felt when he was on the coaching seat.

“Well done!” After the cheers, John gave a thumbs-up to the celebrating Forest players. “We're even now!”

Twain corrected him. “No, we're ahead. ”

If Twain did not say anything, once he spoke, the fatty John squeezed over like a meaty hill, “Tony! Wow, your idea was really brilliant! They definitely lost out on this field! Did you see their expressions? It was too exciting! Haha!”

“Hey, John… I'm going to be out of breath…”

The goal-scorer, Agbonlahor, was so excited that he ran to the north stands with his mouth open and roared, waving his arms at the most hardcore fans, and immediately drew even greater cheers.

Twain did not cheer like the rest of the fans this time. He just gave a thumbs-up to Agbonlahor below. He did not know if Agbonlahor could see him, but he still had to act like a head coach.

In fact, Agbonlahor was looking for his head. He soon found him in the crowds, because his head was different from the masses—he was actually smiling at him!

“Hey, guys! I see the head!” The excited Agbonlahor pointed to the stands as he shouted at his celebrating teammates, and for a moment everyone looked at the stands, in the direction that Agbonlahor was pointing, as they saw Tony Twain's silhouette.

“Hey, let's have another celebration!”

Agbonlahor first did a salute towards the stands, similar to that of the U.S. Marine Corps The other players also followed to salute to Twain.

Twain made a serious face and saluted back, just like a general's head.

After they saluted to their head, they ran back to get ready to reenter the game.

But Tony Twain was still excited amongst the fans. They sang the Nottingham Forest anthems loudly, again and again. Even Twain sang with them afterwards.

“We are invincible, we are invincible! We are the strongest team in the world, we are Nottingham Forest! ”

Nottingham Forest's goal impacted Barcelona quite a bit, as Barcelona's players looked a little flustered on the pitch after the game resumed. If Forest's front-court players were pressing a little more, Barcelona's players would immediately kick the ball a lot further – they definitely did not dare to pass the ball backwards, as they were scared that the ball would playfully jump up again, it would all be over for them.

So, in order not to let the football be intercepted in front of them, everyone chose to kick it forward, hard.

This naturally helped Nottingham Forest a great deal. Barcelona's attack was threatening when the football was on the ground, and when they kicked the ball into the air for fear of making a mistake, they were not even a first-class team in front of Nottingham Forest.

Nottingham Forest were easily in control of the situation on the pitch, again and again besieging Barcelona's goal.

Fortunately, Valdés was not affected by the loss of the ball. His performance was still normal: blocking the ball consistently, ensuring the goalmouth was not lost. Another busy man was Piqué, who was in good form. Nottingham Forest were dominating in the air, and he was the only man who could be trusted in Barcelona's backline, with his height and header advantage.

He was not completely downwind in his tussle with Mitchell, which was one of the reasons why Barcelona had not let in another goal. But Piqué did not think the situation was optimal. He had given all his strength, and the tall man, who was still looking for his play, did not give full strength. If this goes all, he did not know if he could hold on for the full 90 minutes.

Towards the end of the first half, Nottingham Forest, who had been expected to take a possible counterattack at home, instead surrounded Barcelona's penalty area and launched a frenzied siege. Barcelona could not even get over to the other half of the field.

Guardiola was restless and anxious on the sidelines. He just wanted the first half to end quickly so he could make adjustments. He did not care about pride; he just waved to the team to defend the whole line and survive the last five minutes.

The last five minutes were a pain for Barcelona's players. Nottingham Forest's wild attack was never seen at the Nou Camp, and they even thought Nottingham Forest would not attack at all, or would maybe try once or twice.

But Nottingham Forest's current attack had left the Catalan narrator speechless.

England's narrator, on the other hand, was very excited. He kept shouting the names of Nottingham Forest players.

“Aaron Lennon's breakthrough was very beautiful, he passes! Mitchell's header! The header was too good, but it's a pity it was blocked by Valdés!”

“Thiago's long shot – it flew just past the goalpost and out!

“Nottingham Forest seemed to be trying to force a break in the middle of the road to open a breakthrough, with Mitchell leaning on Piqué and relying on his leg-length advantage to pass the ball to Agbonlahor. Agbonlahor feigned and passed straight! Bentley appeared in the penalty area and he received the ball, as if it was a straight cleaver! He shoots! Valdés pounced and hit the football out…

“Barcelona fouled on the right side of the penalty area, with Nottingham Forest's free-kick…Will they do it again? Bentley passes! Straight to the post! Mitchell attracted three of the Barcelona defenders by himself, Kompany heads the ball from behind! The ball went in … Oh no, it hit the side of net! It's a shame, it was like it got in from this point of view…

“Nottingham Forest intercepts the ball on the midfield…Barcelona were intending to pass it out, but they were beaten by George Wood's relentless resistance. He passed the ball to Thiago and ran forward … one-two, it was beautiful! Nottingham Forest made a two-on-one play in front of Barcelona, Yaya Touré was played around with by the chemistry of Wood and Thiago! Piqué keeps a close eye on Mitchell…Long shot! George Wood came straight up with a long shot, and it flew slightly above the crossbar! Listen to the voices in the stands—they thought the ball was going in!

“Joe Mattock passes! Aaron Mitchell – goalpost!! Alas, it seems that today the Goddess of Luck has not blessed the young Mitchell. This is the second time in the game he's headed the ball at the crossbar! His height and header were a big threat to Barcelona's goal, but his luck was off—or was Barcelona's luck too great?”

In Nottingham Forest's tide-like attack, the referee became Barcelona's saviour. As he blew his whistle at the end of the first half, even the most hardcore of Barcelona's fans wanted Nottingham Forest to come again, Barcelona's defensive line would collapse.

“Guardiola should be thankful for the first half, because at least they haven't had a player who was injured by that poor pitch but had only lost a goal.” At the end of the first half, this was how the narrator was casually talking.

Twain got up from his seat and said to Bill and John next to him, “Hey guys, do you want to have a drink? I'll treat you.”

“I thought you weren't supposed to be drinking,” said Bill.

“Of course I can't drink. But I can drink juice, and you guys can choose to drink what you like.”

“You're in a good mood, Tony.”

“Because we're ahead, ha!” As he said this, a group of people walked towards the exit.

“Aren't you worried Guardiola will make adjustments during the mid-game break? Barcelona is a world-class team for a reason…”

Twain laughed. ” Unless he can figure out a way to level the ground in 15 minutes, Barcelona won't be able to turn the tables. Their technique simply can't be used on such a pitch, and if they play high-altitude football, they might as well continue to endure a bad ground attack.”

Yes, he had calculated everything: this game must consume Barcelona. So he was not worried about the bad effects when the UEFA would not allow him to enter the dressing room. He believed that the outcome of the match had been decided by his idea of the “vegetable patch.”

I am like Buddha, Guardiola. No matter how sly you are, you will still be unable to escape my palm, haha!

“Come on, guys, I'll invite you to drink. Moisturize your throats—I might still need to use you guys in the second half!”

While Twain was drinking and talking at the stadium's concessions stand with his “voice-over”, Barcelona's dressing room was a bit of a fendiall.

The team's physiotherapist was giving Barcelona's players ankle and knee massages to prevent them from spraining in the second half. The atmosphere was a bit dull, and no one knew what to say. It was too bad to play on a pitch like this, because they were unable to display their most prided techniques. They could only be played around by Nottingham Forest.

If the game went on like this again…the consequences were unimaginable. Perhaps they could also count on Nottingham Forest to make the mistake they had made in the first half?

Guardiola took away their hopes. “Don't expect your opponent to make a mistake. We have to play well in our own game.”

But Guardiola had no idea how to get his team to play well, too. The atmosphere in the changing room turned cold again.

Barcelona's players might have felt this way for the first time after experiencing thousands of glorious games. This game was unplayable, and it was not because their potential was not up there, but because their opponent was too cunning. Who would have thought that Nottingham Forest would have been at the expense of transforming their pitch for a win …

After a moment of silence, Guardiola re-opened his mouth. “We will pass the possession to them in the second half.”

Everyone looked up with an expression of surprise on their faces. Barcelona's football was always under their own feet—passing the possession right to their opponents did not fit their style.

Guardiola had to explain why he wanted to do this. “Yes. The quality of the turf on the City pitch is so bad that long-term ball control on the foot increases the risk of losing the ball. So, I think it's better for us to give up the football to the other side. Once the football is at the foot of a Nottingham Forest player, wherever that player is, the people around him have to go up and snatch possession. Launch a quick counterattack immediately after the turnover!”

This was a good idea, as Barcelona's players had accepted the manager's arrangement.

“Piqué, how do you feel about defending Mitchell?” Guardiola turned to ask the defender.

Piqué gasped, “I feel that it's a little tough, coach…I'm afraid I can't defend him alone.”

Guardiola looked around at the players on the bench, and found that there seemed to be no players with decent heading skills other than Márquez, a veteran on the bench. But Márquez was too old and was in a bad state, rarely getting a chance to play. In such an important game, he really didn't want to pin his hopes on such a player.

So his eyes passed Márquez and fell onto Puyol. “Carles, in the second half you helped Piqu. I don't ask you to win their no. 9 in terms of heading, but don't let him jump and head so easily.”

Puyol nodded, stating that he knew what he was supposed to do.

Next, it was time for psychological hints.

“Don't give up the race in the last second! We have 45 minutes left, and with just one goal, Nottingham Forest will be in disarray. But until then, we can't panic ourselves! I saw that in the last half you were panicking. That's not going to work! That's absolutely not going to work! Your panic will only make your opponent happier. I know this kind of venue has cost us a lot, but if your minds are just complaints on the bad pitches, I'm sure you'll have no hope of winning. This is Tony Twain's trick! You have to put all your energy into the game, and not think about anything else! The more you think about it, the worse it may turn out!”

Guardiola made a strict face, but deep inside, he knew the situation was bad…

Chapter end