Godfather Of Champions Chapter 879 - The Clinching Shot

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

Wood did not quite understand why the boss asked about something that happened eleven years ago at this time, but he was not in the mind to guess the reason behind it. He only had the opponent on his mind once he threw himself back in the game again.

Real Madrid also intended to take advantage of the favorable situation to continue to attack. He absolutely could not allow it. Nottingham Forest must regain the initiative on the pitch in some way. Although they kicked off in the second half, the football fell to the feet of the Real Madrid players at some point.

This time, George Wood stepped up and helped the team regain possession of the ball with his excellent defensive ability.

By the time the game reached the 105th minute, the players on both sides were close to exhaustion. George Wood was only slightly better off than them. But he was the team captain, so he could not show fatigue.

"We've had a very intense season. From the last-minute sprint till now, even George can't bear it somehow…" Kerslake was worried about Wood's fitness for the first time ever.

"You can rest assured that he can hold on." Twain comforted the assistant manager next to him.

Casillas kicked a long ball from the goal and the ball flew into the midfield. George Wood and Ribéry both jumped at the same time to compete for the header. The football was headed by Wood and Ribéry missed his shot.

No one at Real Madrid could beat George Wood when it came to control of the high aerial balls.

But they got the second point of fall. De la Red received the ball below after Wood's header. It was supposed to be Gago's turn to defend forward at this time, but Gago was exhausted. De la Red's change in direction caused Gago to lose his center of gravity and fall to the ground.

Gago, who fell to the ground, held his calf in his hands and rolled in pain - he had a muscle cramp.

The Real Madrid players did not plan to stop attacking. Everyone was in a frenzy at this time. No one would kick the football out of the sidelines because the opponent fell to the ground and. Anyway, there was no rule provided for this, so they pretended not to see it.

De la Red continued to dribble the ball, while the Nottingham Forest fans in the stands kept booing. Adriano Moke, the thin and small player who rarely engaged in physical collisions against his opponents, rushed up and pushed de la Red along with the ball out of the sideline.

His foul yielded him a yellow card.

The Forest players were disgruntled and surrounded the referee, pointing to Gago, who was still lying on the ground, to show him what the Real Madrid players had done.

The referee just shook his head and did not impose any penalty on de la Red - there was no rules in the book for this.

When the other players gathered around the referee to seek answers, George Wood ran up to help Gago press his leg down.

Gago laid on the ground and looked unhappy. He also appeared to a little listless.

"I can't do it anymore, Captain. I can't hold on… Both of my legs hurt."

Wood lowered his left leg, lifted his right leg, and continued to press down.

"Get a substitute, Captain." Gago whispered, in a tone of reluctance and not ready to give up. "I will only hold everyone back if I stay on the field…"

Wood kept pressing his legs without a word.

At this time, the team doctor, Fleming ran over here to check on Gago's condition and decisively gestured to Twain for a substitute.

Twain still had a substitution spot in hand. He had been unwilling to use it before as he was afraid of an unexpected situation in the final moments. Now, he could put it to use.

Twain scanned the substitutes' bench and did not call up Tiago, who was also a midfielder in the end. Instead, he chose the striker, Ibišević.

"Score more goals!" Twain held his fist up to Ibišević and said, "Aaron alone is not enough. You go up and continue to put pressure on Real Madrid's rear defensive line."

Ibišević nodded. Although he had long been famous, this was his first time playing in the UEFA Champions League final.

"Nottingham Forest is making a substitution because the exhausted Fernando Gago, who has collapsed to the ground with a muscle cramp, is being brought off the field. And his replacement s… Vedad Ibišević! Twain takes out a defensive midfielder and brings on a striker… It looks like he's going to break Real Madrid's goal in the last ten minutes!" The commentator's tone revealed an undisguised shock.

The Real Madrid manager, Míchel González was also equally surprised by this. When he realized that the man standing on the sidelines was Ibišević, he turned to look at Twain, as if he wanted to see through Twain's mind.

Now, both teams had used up all the substitutions, the managers did all that they could, the rest depended on the players themselves.

Míchel did not expect Twain's last substitution to stake it all on the offensive. Did he still want to end the fight within a hundred and twenty minutes? Originally Míchel thought that when Twain was going to make a substitution, he would have brought on a player who was good at executing penalty shots at the last minute and compete with Real Madrid on penalty shots.

Ibišević was pushed onto the pitch by Twain, who made a forward gesture to the players.

His meaning was obvious, which was to get everybody to attack.

Even players like Moke dared to collide with the opponent. With an all-out effort, Nottingham Forest regained the initiative of the game. In the next period, everyone seemed to see the first half of the overtime game again, but the attack and defense of the two sides were exchanged.

Nottingham Forest compressed the entire Real Madrid team to the thirty meters zone, combining the breakthroughs on the side and long shots from the middle to make Casillas become the busiest player on the pitch.

Every time the Forest team controlled the ball and attacked; loud boos would break out in the stands. But the Forest players were not disturbed by these distractions. They were used to hearing boos. Such a scene did not scare them. They seek Real Madrid's defensive cracks over and over again which they could then take advantage of.

Míchel had replaced too many defenders, so now Real Madrid could only withdraw its formation and defend against the Forest team's attack with its advantage in the number of players in the local section.

But how long could they hold on?

"George Wood's long shot bounces out after it brushes across the crossbar!"

"Casillas kicks the ball forward with a long ball, but Huntelaar basically can't control the ball at all. The football falls again to Nottingham Forest. Moke breaks through Ronaldo on the sideline! Beautiful technique… Oops, it's a pity that the pass is a little too wide… Wait a minute, Fernández runs up. He stops the ball near the sideline! He passes the ball again!"

Mitchell leapt high. He jumped higher than Garay, and then gave a powerful shake of his head!

"Casillas!!" The Spanish commentator roared excitedly, "A divine save!"

A header attack, close at hand, was actually kept out by Casillas' single palm. The Real Madrid captain's performance deserved the title of the world's number one goalkeeper.

When Mitchell jumped in the air without any interference, the Forest team's coaches and substitutes' bench rushed to the sidelines, ready to celebrate the goal. Unfortunately, Casillas's save extinguished the fire in their hearts. A group of people held their heads in their hands as they returned to their seats.

"The header was too direct!" Twain complained below. Then he clapped his hands toward the field, offering praise and encouragement.

Nottingham Forest's corner kick did not go straight to the goal but instead it was played in a set piece. Bale executed a quick corner shot and kicked the ball to Fernández, who had come forward to receive the shot. Then Fernández dribbled the ball diagonally. After he shook off a defender, he dribbled the ball horizontally along the edge of the penalty area. Then, just as the Real Madrid players thought he was going to directly shoot, he suddenly passed a direct through shot. He and the ball turned the forward direction ninety-degrees into the penalty area. Bale, who had just made the corner kick, appeared there and swept the ball straight inside after he received the ball.

This time, Ramos was successful. He blocked the ball out of the end line before the ball could fly into the goal area and added another corner kick.

Nottingham Forest obtained corner kicks in a succession and everyone's hearts were on edge.

Twain took the time to look at his watch. Only eight minutes were left before the end of the overtime period. Time passed by really quickly. Half of the fifteen minutes were over in a blink of an eye…

Instead of continuing to play tactical corner kicks, the Forest team continued to change their corner kick tactics. This time the ball was kicked to the top of the penalty arc with a long pass.

George Wood was already waiting there.

He stopped and pushed the ball upward with his chest to just send it over Ribéry's head. When Ribéry found that Wood went around behind him with the football, he had wanted to reach out and pull. But he suddenly remembered that he was still near the penalty area. It was too dangerous to foul in this position. He could only drop it.

Even though Wood had stopped the ball and bypassed Ribéry, it was not good for a straight shot because the football was too high. He could only turn around with his back to the goal and control the football in the air as he made plans again.

It was at this time that Ribéry's chance came. He turned around and hooked Wood's ball away!

"Real Madrid's chance!"

The commentator's voice had not ended when Ribéry's ball was snatched back by Wood again.

Despite regaining possession of the ball, the Forest team also lost the chance to shoot straight at the goal and Wood could only pass the ball to the sideline before he launched another attack.

Moke received Wood's pass and made a feint to look like he was going to pass the ball. In fact, he suddenly hooked the football and actually shoved the ball past Marcelo!

He entangled with de la red after he broke into the penalty area. Then both of them fell to the ground.

The Nottingham Forest players believed that de la Red had fouled, and they should have been given a penalty shot. The Real Madrid players insisted that Moke dived and should be given a yellow card. In that way, Moke's two yellow cards would turn into a red card and he would be directly sent off.

Twain was a little angry off the pitch as the referee ultimately failed to award the Forest team a penalty shot. However, the controversial referee did not give Moke a yellow card. He let Casillas send out the ball - there were no consequences.

Two more minutes passed.

As time went on, the intensity of the game on the field decreased. Everyone could not run anymore. On several occasions, the players on both sides would have fought to the death for the ball if it were thirty minutes ago. But now they could only look on helplessly as the other side took the ball while their minds were willing, but their bodies could not move anymore.

The Forest team's energy began to decline after a period of fierce attack and the momentum of the attack was not as fierce as it had been before. Real Madrid was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief and pressed out to look for opportunities. It was probably the only area that Twain had miscalculated - he arranged for the team to attack in the second half of overtime but did not expect the physical impact to be so great. After all, they had one player less than Real Madrid. Real Madrid was able to besiege the Forest team throughout the first half of overtime, but the Forest team could not replicate that in the second half.

He stood on the sidelines and was extremely nervous. He could only secretly clench and release his fists, and then clench and release again. The muscles of his whole body tightened again and again with this action.

His wife, Shania was also as nervous as he was. Since the overtime, her eyes never left Twain. She did not care much about the game. She was not interested in football anyway.

The players from both teams did not want to waste time here, but they did not have the physical capacity to push for a new wave of attacks. Time passed for another three minutes amid the slow pace. The whole game had gone on for one hundred and eighteen minutes.

"The score is still 2:2. Maybe the managers of the two teams should think about the penalty shootout."

Míchel was compliant. He directly turned around toward the assistant manager to ask for the list of players for the penalty shootout, ready to arrange the order, and then handed it over to the fourth official.

Twain stood on the sidelines and did not move. He was not really to reconcile to this.

Indeed, he was not willing to go into the penalty shootout like this. He was unwilling to hand his fate over to the illusory luck.

But he had done all that he could. The players were constrained by their stamina and unable to play to their full strength. So, what if he could not accept it?

Without Gago in the midfield, Wood's burden was even heavier. Not only did he need to defend, he also had to organize the offense. Without Gago and Şahin there, both the defense and offense depended on him. If it were not for his perverted fitness, perhaps he would suffer a cramp and collapse shortly after Gago was brought off the field.

Wood passed a straight pass forward, but Fernández did not run there in time and the ball rolled out of the sideline which gave the other side an out of bounds ball.

The Chilean made an apologetic gesture to Wood as well as to indicate that he was too tired and could not run anymore. It was not because he deliberately became passive in the game.

What could Wood say? Looking around at his teammates, and even his opponents, almost everyone had the same tired expression as Fernández.

Bale took advantage of the dead ball to put his hands on his knees and leaned down to take big gulps of air as sweat gathered to the tip of his chin and dripped down on the turf.

Even Ribéry seized the moment to take a break - he stood in place and was unwilling to move one step. His scarred face was devoid of any murderous intent and his expression was a little sluggish.

In fact, he was also tired, but he did not show it.

If George bent down like Bale, then their opponents would be delighted to use his position as a point of attack and fully take advantage of it. If he looked dazed and dull like Ribéry, he would not be able to give his teammates confidence and the whole team could collapse at the last minute.

He gritted his teeth and persisted.

After Real Madrid's out of bounds ball was tossed out, it was Wood who rushed up to grab it. From his pace and movement, it could not be seen that he was a man who had been running for nearly a hundred and twenty minutes.

At this time, George Wood's running distance so far in the game was displayed below the live television screen - twenty thousand kilometers!

The commentator was shocked by the number. He stared blankly for a while before somewhat stuttering, "Maybe he really should go train for a marathon … He ran and ran nonstop. He kept running. George Wood can still sprint at the moment!"

Indeed, he could still sprint! Wood intercepted Higuaín's ball using the speed of his sprint to skirt around in front to defend. Higuaín stood in place and stared blankly. He was ill-prepared for Wood's defense. He raised his hands as if to protest something, or was annoyed at his own performance…

Wood, who intercepted the ball, still selflessly passed the ball to his teammates. Unfortunately, once his teammate received the ball, it was then was intercepted again - he was physically unable to even protect the ball.

Twain shook his head repeatedly as he watched off the field.

He took a deep breath and then raised his voice to yell, "Geor—-ge—"

Wood heard his roar and turned his head over.

"Dribble it yourself!" Twain waved his hand forward.

Dribble it myself?

Wood looked around at his teammates. They were clearly exhausted. Or perhaps they were waiting for the whistle be blown at one hundred and twenty minutes. Akinfeev still had the strength, but could he rush out?

It looked like he really had to fight on his own…

Just as the Forest team was thinking about how to attack, Real Madrid used its save up strength to launch its first attack in the second half of overtime.

Having just past the midfield, Ramos suddenly lifted his leg and crossed the ball in the air to send the football toward the penalty area.

Woodgate jumped to compete for the header, but he missed!

"He missed the header! It's Huntelaar's chance!"

Lying in wait behind him, Huntelaar stopped the football with his chest while he turned around at the same time. This was an extremely difficult move - to stop the ball and turn around at one go. When the football descended from the air, he had already raised his leg to shoot!

There was no one around him at all. He could finish the shot without interference…

"Huntelaar! A deadly shot by a hunter!"

The Spanish commentator did not wait for the football to be kicked before he eagerly cried out. He had even got up from his seat and poked his head out to look down.

"What the damn hell…"

Twain only had time to curse such a foul language and the football was already shot out by Huntelaar.

He turned around and volleyed a shot. This shot was fast and hard. It looked like it was definitely going in!

But a person's figure blocked in front of the football's path. Its speed was too fast, and he could not use his hands in time. He could only lower his center of gravity and used his chest to block the football out!

"Akinfeev! This is Akinfeev's wonderful save! He keeps the hope alive for Nottingham Forest! At this moment, the Russian was also the 'Saint Iker' of Nottingham Forest!"

It was the English commentator's turn to be crazy. Just now, the moment Huntelaar made his move, their hearts all sank to the bottom, thinking that the game was over just like that. They did not expect Akinfeev to prove at a crucial moment that Russia's number one was no weaker than Casillas. He also tried hard to save a desperate crisis.

"Bastard!" Míchel could not help but burst out with the foul words. He had thought that his team had won for sure just now. He did not expect Nottingham Forest to be so tenacious…

"Ha!" Twain opened his mouth wide and grinned, "Those who survive a catastrophe are bound to have good fortune later on. Real Madrid, you are dead for sure! Dead for sure!!" In fact, his heart had been beating wildly nonstop and it had not slowed down until now. His forehead and vest were covered in sweat and his legs were even trembling. He might fall down at any moment once he went soft in the knees - if he did not yell, he might turn out that way.

Damn it, almost scared me to death…

Twain secretly rejoiced in his heart. He admitted that he was terrified. Had it not been for Akinfeev's decisive strike, the ball could have actually enter the goal…

Kerslake also had a bad scare. He ran to the sidelines and said to Twain, "We should defend, Tony! There's still a minute left, defend…" He even stuffed the list of penalty shootout players into Twain's hands.

Twain turned his head around and gave him a glance. Kerslake was stunned by Twain's expression as he looked at him — he was frightened by it again. With gritted teeth, glaring eyes and ferocious expression, Twain said categorically, "No! We'll continue to organize the offensive! Even if it's only one minute, we're going to try to score a goal!"

Twain threw the name list in his hand directly on the ground, like the Hegemon-King of Western Chu that cut off his means of retreat by burning his boats.

When Real Madrid did not score the goal, it seemed to have a slight impact on their morale. Instead of taking advantage of the momentum to start a second wave of attacks, they opted to withdraw instead. With only a minute left until the end of the game, there was no need to risk pressing out to give the Forest team a chance to fight back. Míchel had studied the videos of the Forest team's games. He found that the tenacious team often scored at the final juncture of a game. It could be counted as a feature of the Forest team. All he had to do was not to give the Forest team the chance to play its special feature.

Real Madrid withdrew and the Forest team attacked.

After George Wood received the ball, he did not choose to pass the ball, but suddenly dribbled the ball himself.

When he faced Ribéry in the middle, he did a feint. He first made a move to look like he was going to pass the ball. Then his right foot hooked the ball and he twisted his body around to bypass Ribéry, who pounced from the opposite direction, along with the ball.

Next, he did not continue to dribble the ball in the middle. Real Madrid's middle was currently a hub heavily guarded by its players. He took advantage of the moment he brushed past Ribéry to directly dribble the football to the sideline.

"George Wood starts to dribble the ball! Is he going to break through from the sideline and then do a cross pass?"

Seeing that he was dribbling the ball on the sideline, Ibišević and the already exhausted Mitchell both lifted their spirits to charge toward the front of the middle of the goal, intending to pick up his pass.

Higuaín came up to intercept Wood, but he was a step too slow and Wood blocked him at the back. He was no longer able to pose any threat to the strong Wood. After staggering a few steps at the back, he chose to give up - he was afraid that he would kick Wood from behind and get a yellow card. He already had a yellow card on him.

Wood felt Higuaín gave up after he gingerly kicked a couple of times behind his back. He would not conveniently take a dive and let the other team be punished with one player being sent off. He would rather dribble the ball on his own to the front of the other team's penalty area. He did not hesitate and knew what he should choose to do when faced with such an option.

Wood felt the pressure behind him slightly lessened and he continued to dribble the ball forward along the sideline.

This time, it was de la Red and Ramos, the two players who came up. They wanted to cut Wood off.

Wood decided to force a breakthrough and rushed to dribble the ball out along with him before the other side cut him off.

But he was a little too slow. He had rushed past, but the ball was intercepted by Ramos.

"Intercepted! What a shame!" The English commentator shouted and expressed his disappointment in his speech.

"Well done!" The Spanish commentator could finally relaxed after being on tenterhooks just now. Wood's breakthrough just now was so powerful that a sense of fear sprung up unbidden.

"F**k!" Twain waved his fists in anger after he saw the scene below.

Wood looked back at Ramos, who fell to the ground. He had collided with de la Red who crashed out of the sideline as he could not stop in time. Was it the end of this? Did he have to get ready to kick a penalty shot?

He suddenly saw Gareth Bale waving to him and shouting something. Unfortunately, the stadium was too noisy for him to hear clearly.

Lying on the ground, Ramos felt the danger. He could not get up in time, so he laid on the ground and wanted to sweep the football straight out.

Bale had already rushed over and extended his leg to block …

The football bounced back against his shin bone and went over Ramos' head to fly ahead!

George Wood was there!

Garay habitually raised his hand while he turned his head to look at the referee at the same time. But he found that the referee did not make any indication, and he suddenly panicked. He turned around to rush toward Wood.

"Good shot! It's in an onside position!"

"Is this an offside position… It is empty in front! The assistant referee has not raised the flag!"

Wood looked back at the football that was flying toward him. He moved sideways and raised his right leg to kick the incoming football inward… The football changed direction to bounce toward the penalty area. Then he accelerated to catch up with the football and continued to dribble the ball to charge into Real Madrid's penalty area!

Ramos had already climbed up from the ground and aggressively pounced toward George Wood in front of him. This might perhaps be his last sprint.

It was also Wood's last sprint.

Ramos, Garay, Marcelo and Ribéry also rushed from different directions toward George Wood at the same time.

Meanwhile, Casillas chose to abandon the goal to strike. Mitchell and Ibišević still had not run into the penalty area yet. Wood was simply too fast for his teammates to keep up with him… If he still did not make a move at this time, he could only watched as the opponent entered the penalty area and then had numerous choices!

Would he shoot or pass the ball? Would he shoot on the left side or right side? Would he break through or shoot directly?

At that moment, a lot of thoughts popped up in Casillas' mind. Like a fork in the road, there was a network of several forks crisscrossing in front of his eyes, so that he did not know which side to choose.

George Wood also noticed Casillas, who had struck. But he did not have so many chaotic thoughts in his head. He did not have any teammates in his line of sight, only Casillas and the goal behind him. It was as easy as that…

He made his shot!

Wood naturally swung up his right leg as he dribbled the ball. It looked like he was just simply swinging his leg while running. However, he hit the ball fast in his next step!

The football drew a covert arc and suddenly sprang ahead.

Casillas saw the football suddenly fly over. He wanted to pounce but it was already too late. He could only reflexively reach out with his hands to block, hoping that his fingertips could brushed against the football.

He did brush against the football. But the speed of the ball was too fast, and that little bit of power was not enough to change the course of the football's flight.

The football bypassed Casillas and continued to drill forward.

Marcelo changed his mind at the last minute when he saw Wood rush into the penalty area. Instead of pouncing on Wood, he ran toward the empty goal left by Casillas.

He was going to lift the siege!

But this position was a little uncomfortable… Even if he could hit the football, there was a ninety percent chance that he could kick the ball into the goal. Marcelo had no choice. He had to do it…

The Brazilian defender did a studs up tackle and the football seemed to be magnified in his eyes. Just a little more… just a little more and he could hit it! Just a little faster and faster!

Marcelo roared in his heart.

The football crossed in front of the tips of his toes…

Then it lightly crossed the white line of the goal area.

At that moment, time seemed to stop still, or it could be said that time no longer existed in the world…

From the moment the football crossed the goal line, everything came to a standstill.

Everyone on the field kept their previous last positions and was transfixed in that moment.

As if ten thousand years had passed, a sound came from the distant fog as it gradually strengthened and became clearer.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL——!!!"

That kind of voice multiplied and finally gushed out, as if it burst out all of a sudden.

"The ball's in!"

"It's incredible! George Wood crashed through the goal alone!"

"This is truly the fatal shot that ends the game! A goal scored at the 120th minute! Nottingham Forest leads with 3:2!"

"Who would have thought of such an ending? Just when we all thought we were going to play a penalty shootout, George Wood stepped forward!"

"I thought George Wood could only shoot long shots hard and that it was down to luck whether his shots could go in or not. But I was wrong! This goal is so beautiful!"

"The Real Madrid team is stunned. They did not expect to concede the goal at the last minute!"

"This goal completely destroyed the proud Real Madrid!"

Amid these explosive voices, the football struck the net, which rolled it up, and then stopped.

Marcelo then slipped into the goal and was entangled in the net.

Casillas was half-kneeing on the ground. His hands were outstretched, and he even kept his posture from pouncing toward the ball just now. He looked back at what had happened inside the goal.

Ramos, who ran halfway, staggered and fell to the ground.

Garay simply stopped in his tracks. He already had tears in his eyes as he looked at the goal. He knew what the goal meant.

A living thriller was thus played out in front of the Real Madrid supporters. Everyone was too stunned to speak.

The entire Bernabéu stadium suddenly fell silent.

It was a suffocating silence.

A dead-like silence.

In such an environment, Twain lifted his head up high and opened his arms wide in front of eighty thousand people as he enjoyed the joyful impact on his heart brought by the success.

A Treble Win!!.

Chapter end