Godfather Of Champions Chapter 869 - A Wonderful Night Begins

Fat John and Skinny Bill woke up from their sleep and realized that it was almost eleven o'clock in the morning. They rushed out of the door to knock on doors. Soon, the hallway went from quiet to noisy. A group of Englishmen yawned as they came out of their rooms in succession. They all drank too much alcohol last night and found that their heads was still somewhat throbbing in pain.Fat John and Skinny Bill woke up from their sleep and realized that it was almost eleven o'clock in the morning. They rushed out of the door to knock on doors. Soon, the hallway went from quiet to noisy. A group of Englishmen yawned as they came out of their rooms in succession. They all drank too much alcohol last night and found that their heads was still somewhat throbbing in pain.

"Damn it. It's eleven o'clock? I'm going to be late for work this time…" Some people were still confused about where they were at the moment."Wake up, Gary. We're in Spain now! In Madrid!" John knocked on the muddleheaded fool's head.

"Madrid?" That muddleheaded fool stared blankly for a moment, then held his head and cried out, "Champions League final!!"

The man next to him laughed when he saw him wake up from the daze.

The laughter also dispelled the rest of their sleepiness.

"Well, guys, today is the day of the holy battle! Rouse yourselves. Go wash up, and then we're going out for a meal!"

This was not a high-quality hotel. A group of ordinary people from a small city in central England could not afford to stay in a four- or five-star hotel. But it was not even easy to find such a small hotel like this. The Champions League final was held in Madrid, which directly drove up the occupancy rate in the hotels here.

John and his group were staying in a hotel, south of Madrid, which was located in a relatively backward part of the city's economy. The hotel environment was not very good, but the price was low. It was the best choice for those people who were not rich.

As soon as John and the others stepped out with Nottingham Forest scarves around their necks, they caught the attention of the Spaniards around them.

But the Englishmen were not nervous. They even shouted to those Spaniards, "Nottingham Forest will win!"

It was not a provocation, because they were not drunk. Rather, it was meant to curry favor.Then came the Spaniards' response, "F**k Real Madrid!"

This was a group of Atlético Madrid fans. Even though they were Spaniards and people from Madrid, they wanted to see their arch enemy lose at home the most.

"We found a good place." John laughed and said, "Come, let's go eat, guys!"

Javier Thomas, a history teacher at a high school in Madrid, was a Frenchman. However, he was now a Real Madrid fan.

During Real Madrid's most brilliant period ten years ago, he was still teaching in France and had no interest in football. At the time, Real Madrid had many superstar players. The team was star-studded and known as the " Galácticos." They won two European titles in three years and were unparallel at the time. It was the greatest team in the world.

He came to Madrid in 2005 to continue teaching. He had already heard of Real Madrid's football fame before, but unfortunately the Real Madrid he saw was the one with the new lease of life after its calamity. It was like a once-golden palace that had now turned into a ruin with thick overgrowth.

But his social circles were still full of Real Madrid fans. He was puzzled and surprised by this. So, he decided to explore the root causes of all this. As he was a history teacher, he began to study its history. Real Madrid's history was the worthiest of their pride. While he studied its history, had close interactions with the Real Madrid fans, personally went to watch the Real Madrid games live, the tall Frenchman who wore glasses and was refined in his manner, had since become a Real Madrid fan.

But what really made him fall in love with Real Madrid was not the glorious history, but the character and fighting spirit that Real Madrid showed in the following seasons. They could reverse the situation and take the title in a game trailing behind Barcelona with fifteen minutes left, showing the spirit of Real Madrid, which had been overlooked for years. When he saw Higuaín score a goal in the final minutes at the Bernabéu and reversed the game to win a 4:3 victory over the RCD Espanyol team, this mild-mannered and good-natured gentleman was also thrilled and could not help himself as he roared in the stands and hugged strangers around him.

Such an exciting reversal was far more than one or two games, and he had fallen in love with such a team ever since.

Today he was an unwavering and fanatical Real Madrid fan. He had a dual identity. Normally, he was a mild-mannered teacher in school and never argued with people. Even his body language was very gentle. But when the weekends came, he was transformed into an easily excitable dangerous figure, and everyone had better stay away from him.

Even his wife of twenty years could not understand his transformation.

She could only blame football for being a sport that made people crazy. Fortunately, their child was a daughter. If their child were to be a son, she would definitely keep him away from football …

"It's finally going to be over." The wife sighed as she watched her husband check the "preparations" done for watching the game this evening over and over again in the room. For her, her husband's regularly intermittent mental illness could recover spontaneously. Her husband was just a Real Madrid fan and not a fan of the French national team nor a fan of the Spanish national team. So, the World Cup this summer had nothing to do with him. Today's game would be Real Madrid's last game of the season. Whatever the outcome was, her husband would soon be back to normal.

Her husband came out of the bedroom when he packed and got ready. He looked at his wife and daughter, who were sitting in the living room. He came up to stroke his daughter's head.

"Don't think about taking her to the game." The wife became alert.

"I'm just touching her head." Thomas laughed wryly, "Don't look at me like you're looking at a mental patient, Selena."

"You're a mental case on this day."

Their six-year-old daughter watched curiously as her parents argued over what she could not understand. She liked her mother and her father, but she seemed to have two fathers and two mothers. On a day like this, her gentle and beautiful mother would suddenly become nervous, and her always smiling father would become bad-tempered. Her young mind sometimes remembered that her father would suddenly lose his temper and throw stuff. She did not know the reason. There were also times when her father would suddenly be very happy, buy her gifts, accompany her to play games till late, or hug her tight which made her a little uncomfortable. She also did not know why.

Thomas did not want to quarrel with his wife on such an important day. He chose silence.

His wife also did not want to deal with him. She sat on the side and held her daughter as she watched her favorite cartoon.

Thomas sat for a moment like this. He felt that the atmosphere was very awkward. He wanted to open his mouth to say something, but his wife would immediately glare at him. So, he simply decided to go out early, walk around, find a bar, drink together with the Real Madrid fans to discuss the evening's game and set off together to the Bernabéu when it was near the time of the game.

Then in these two hours, he would completely forget that there was his wife and child at home. He could enjoy the football which brought joy to him and of course, there might be pain too…

He did not forget to kiss his wife and daughter on their foreheads before he went out. This time, his wife did not shy away.

"I'll be back early." Thomas finished saying this and opened the door to walk out.

"Ah… Madrid in two colors. You don't often see the city like this. To the north is Madrid in white color and to the south is Madrid in red. Now they will all mingle here, even though the red color does not come from the south…"

A tour guide said to the crowd behind him in front of the Bernabéu stadium. A group of East Asian tourists with Asian skin tones and dark hair faces held their cell phones, cameras and digital videos took photographs and filmed the magnificent Bernabéu stadium continuously as they made sounds of exclamations. No one cared about what the tour guide said.

"Hey, look at those guys, they're not Spanish, they're fans from England… Don't take photographs of them! Don't point the camera lens at them!" The tour guide hurriedly gestured for the curious people to put down the camera equipment in their hands.

"English fans, God knows if each of them has just gulped down ten gallons of beer. Drunk English fans are the most dangerous!"

As if to coordinate his words, the policemen on duty around them slowly got closer to the group of English fans in red jerseys to separate them from those people around them. The English fans did not mind the treatment. They even saluted the policemen and shouted slogans in English.

"What are they shouting?" Some of the tourists asked questions.

The Spanish tour guide shrugged and said, "Nottingham Forest will win… something like that. It is the UEFA Champions League final tonight. But unfortunately, you don't have tickets. Otherwise I'd be happy to bring you to a football match of the highest quality in Europe."

In fact, he would very much like to watch the final, but he had to bring the tour group around …

"Mr. Martin, can we still get tickets now?" One of the tourists asked again.

Martin smiled at the person who asked the question and said, "The tickets for this game were sold out a week ago." He pointed to a shady spot under a tree not far away, where a lot of people, differently dressed men and women, were standing. The only thing they had in common was they each held a sign with the words "I need a ticket."

"Come on, ladies and gentlemen. Our next stop is Fuente de Cibeles…" Martin looked back at the Bernabéu in the afternoon sun, with its glaring white walls in the sun. He was really reluctant to leave. He was really sorry that he could not watch the game in person as a Real Madrid fan.

After settling the group down in the evening, he must find a chance to sneak off to watch the live broadcast.

There were also a few tourists who looked back at the Bernabéu longingly. They really came here at a bad time. If it was a day with no match, they would have a chance to get a glimpse inside the stadium in person, visit the hall of honor at the Bernabéu and see how it compared with Nottingham Forest's hall of honor…

"The weather is great today. It won't rain in the evening, and maybe there's even a cool breeze." Pierce Brosnan sat with a cigarette in his mouth outside the cafe across the street from the Bernabéu. Next to him was the assistant who had come with him to cover the game.

He appeared cool and laid-back, while his assistant was covered in sweat. Such an exciting match was approaching every second and minute, making him nervous and excited.

"Mr. Brosnan, do you think the Forest team will win in the end?"

"How will I know that?" Brosnan shook his head and said, "I am not a prophet, nor a magician with a crystal ball."

"Why don't we head to the hotel and wait. There's no news to be covered here." The assistant was exceptionally talkative. He looked really nervous and excited.

"You've worked for me for two years, Paul. Do you still not know the kind of person we interviewed?" Brosnan glanced at his assistant with a somewhat disappointed and displeased look in his eyes. He said, "On such an important game, Tony Twain will be sure to drive away the reporters who surround the hotel entrance, like he's shooing away a swarm of flies. He protects his team like an animal nursing its young. He doesn't allow anyone to walk near his team. You want some news? There's nothing new to write other than to describe how rude and insolent Tony Twain is over and over again. The readers are long tired of reading about this."

"In that case, we'll wait here, have some coffee… and admire the scenery?"

Brosnan nodded and said, "Have a break and relax. You're going to be busy tonight, kid."

In front of Tony Twain, he behaved as if he were an intern reporter. But in front of a real rookie, he would still rediscover the feeling and dignity of "a journalist."

The young man muttered a few words and drank the coffee a gulp. Then he turned to look at the growing number of fans in the streets. His eyes were gradually fixed on the minority of female fans. After half an hour of research, he came to a conclusion that Real Madrid had the majority of female fans and that the young female fans were also mostly pretty. He even saw female fans who were clearly not of European faces… These people were crazy, coming all way from the other side of the world to watch a final match.

By contrast, most of the Nottingham Forest fans were from England. They did not have the international influence like Real Madrid, even if they had won more titles. On the one hand, their football was not nice to watch and on the other hand, Tony Twain's unique personality cost them to lose a lot of neutral fans. Thirdly, it was because Nottingham Forest was still a small club, with no money to expand in the global market and no money to spread its influence globally. The fourth reason was… Real Madrid could woo fans by constantly buying superstar players, while who was Nottingham Forest's biggest player? George Wood, the serious and unsmiling robot…

It was really a contest of wide disparity… and Nottingham Forest is completely defeated.

The result was really frustrating - there are so few beautiful women in this group. The young reporter lamented in his mind.

After 5:30 p.m., two buses set off from two five-star hotels.

The white bus was followed by a group of media outlets, which closely followed the bus towards the Bernabéu, like the sharks behind the slave boats.

The red bus had nothing else other than a few police cars on the road. As Pierce Brosnan had stated, the reporters who surrounded outside the hotel were driven away by Twain. He did not want his team to be disturbed in such an important game. When those reporters cursed Tony Twain under the scorching sun as they left helplessly, Brosnan and his assistant contently sipped coffee under the shade of the umbrellas, admired the beautiful women and enjoyed a leisurely afternoon.

Brosnan looked at his watch, patted the assistant on the shoulder, and got up. He said, "It's time to work, kid."

In the square in front of them, a commotion suddenly broke out.

Very soon, a white bus appeared in people's line of sight in the afterglow of the sunset. The milky-white body of the bus was dyed ivory yellow by the sun. The fans became excited, and waves of roars began to spread in the square.

These sounds ignited the excitement around the Bernabéu, and Brosnan finally felt the atmosphere of the Champions League final approaching.

The two men walked quickly across the road and ran to the square. His assistant was holding the camera and changing the lens while he was looking for the best position.

The bus in which the Real Madrid players traveled on slowed down in the square, with the players waving to the fans, triggering a burst of screams. It was as if everyone here was a Real Madrid fan.

"That's the home-field advantage…" muttered Brosnan. The assistant next to him kept taking pictures.

Javier Thomas was also in the crowd, waving excitedly at the players in the bus.

"Long live, Madrid!"

Such roars were heard around the Bernabéu, where tens of thousands of Real Madrid fans gathered to witness the glorious night that belonged to them.

Soon after, Nottingham Forest's bus arrived, and the Nottingham Forest fans who greeted them were about ten thousand people. Their voices were much smaller than the Real Madrid fans. Coupled with the fact that the police at the scene kept a tight grip on the extent of the English fans' range of activity, they could not even get close to the Forest bus. They could only watch the bus from a distance as it moved unobstructed through the square before it turned to the parking lot behind the stadium.

John and Bill led their own people in the crowd and shouted a few sentences, "Nottingham Forest will win!" and shut their mouths. They looked at the unfriendly looking policemen and spat on the ground as they said, "We'll teach you a lesson when the game starts!"

Martin could still hear shouts from the Bernabéu, even though his position was more than a dozen kilometers away. He was now worried about how he was going to get rid of a group of Chinese tourists and go watch the game. If the group of tourists came to him and wanted to check out Madrid at night after they had dinner, he really did not know if he should refuse.

As he was alone worrying in the bus, he heard the sound of knocking on the window.

A Chinese man in the tour group stood outside the bus and smiled at him.

"Have you finished eating? How's the food? This is the best Chinese restaurant in Madrid!" Even though Martin's face still looked worried in the last second, he smiled attentively at the moment. He said, "I'm not lying."

"The food is really authentic. No doubt, it's the best Chinese restaurant in Madrid, Mr. Martin. But tonight, we would like to…"

Martin's mouth twitched for a little bit. His worst fear came true. Ah, ah! At the thought of not being able to watch such an important game made him hate his career. In the Champions League final at the Bernabéu, one of the participating team was his favorite team, Real Madrid! How many times could he meet with such an opportunity in a lifetime?

"Ah I see, where would you like to go? How about going shopping on Calle de Serrano? It's the best famous street in Madrid! If you don't want to go there, you can still go…" Martin interrupted the other person and began to gush with recommendations, doing his duty as a tour guide.

The Chinese man quietly listened to Martin introduce all the places worth visiting in Madrid before he shook his head and said, "We don't want to go to those places, Mr. Martin. We actually discussed and want to look for a cheap but lively place to spend the evening and experience Madrid's most common nightlife. Especially on a night like this…"

The Chinese man had given enough hint and Martin was not a fool. He replied with a bright smile and said, "I have a good idea! How about taking you all to a bar with the best atmosphere in Real Madrid for drinks and to watch the game? There are beautiful and friendly Spanish girls, and more passionate than them are the football and beer! Ha ha!"

It was a truly wonderful night.

Chapter end