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Chapter 342: The French Forward

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

The cheers in City Ground did not rest until the end of the first half. Forest’s supporters were still exhilarated over the goal they had scored.

All sorts of voices rang out, singing for a whole 15 minutes. From the end of the first half, it lasted all the way through to the kick-off of the second half.

Compared to the first, there appeared to be slight changes in the second half; Riquelme was more active now than he had been; perhaps he had communicated with Sorin during the half-time break.

George Wood’s pressure mounted, and Riquelme began showing signs of recovery.

Tang En could tell at once. He could not let it happen.

Once Riquelme began livening up again, Nottingham Forest’s one-goal advantage would be threatened.

Taking the opportunity of a dead ball, Tang En walked to the sidelines and hollered into the field, “George! Be more vicious! Did you not eat!?”

Since Riquelme was afraid of getting injured and fouling, George could play for real.

George Wood was indeed an obedient player. Just as Tang En turned to return to the manager’s seat, he suddenly heard a whistle from the field.

In his struggle with Riquelme, Wood had pressed down on the Argentine’s neck, pushing him to the ground.

Tang En lowered his head to look at his watch. It had been 10 minutes since the second half started. Depending on such a method could temporarily stem Villarreal CF’s offense, but it was not a long-term solution. Although he placed great importance on defense, he did not think it was a miracle pill that could cure any problems.

In their situation, the best method to strike at the opponent’s confidence was to score another goal, and even more.

He turned around to look at the substitutes’ bench.

Then he pointed at Anelka, who was sitting at the corner. He waved his hand and said, “Go warm-up, Anelka!”

With a look at Tang En, Anelka stood and removed his jacket before running out.

Kerslake, who saw Tang En do that, asked, “This early?”

“What’s the use of buying him if I’m not going to use him? Disregarding his temper, his abilities are excellent. Plus, his specialty would be very useful in this match… We’re lacking a speed-type forward. If Pellegrini boxes out our wings, we won’t be able to launch any fast breaks. Putting in another forward will make Villarreal CF’s defense more difficult.”

Kerslake nodded and asked no further.

In truth, Tang En also felt rather uncertain. He did not know what kind of performance the eccentric Frenchman would show on the field later; would such a sharp dagger end up in the hearts of the enemy, or in the backs of their own people?

※※※

While Anelka was warming-up, he continued observing the field. He took note of everything occurring on it. As he had guessed, the manager asked him to warm-up because he was clearly displeased with the current situation of the team and hoped for a change. After getting a one-goal lead, were they going to fortify their defenses or enhance their offense? The personality of a manager could be seen from such a decision.

Someone who was more reserved would choose to fortify their defenses, while those who were more willing to take risks would choose to enhance their attacks.

Getting Anelka to warm-up must mean he was planning to ramp up the offense.

This was Anelka’s first match since joining the team. Due to his late arrival, he had not even been able to join the team’s warm-up matches prior, only managing to train with the team in their usual training for a week. It was a very short period, so much so that he hardly had any rapport with his teammates.

Not being put in the starting line-up of the first match made Anelka somewhat unhappy. In his opinion, he should certainly be part of the main force; he had no doubt in his abilities at all. He did not care about a lack of cooperation or rapport; he believed that he would be able to decide the outcome of the match on his own.

The good thing was that the manager was giving him an opportunity in the second half. He did not have to wait in vain on the substitutes’ bench for 90 minutes.

Anelka shuttled back and forth in a sprint on the sidelines to warm up. He could feel the strength pumping through his legs and muscles. He told himself that his condition was the same as before; he had not become useless after the half year he had spent in Turkey.

He had never believed he should end his career at such a terrible place in Turkey. He absolutely had the ability to establish himself in one of the richer and more powerful clubs. So, he came back. Starting from Nottingham Forest, he was going to push forward step-by-step, towards the goals he hoped for.

His two big brothers had helped him out a lot; he had to be grateful. Now, it was up to him.

※※※

It was no longer realistic to let George Wood defend against the onslaught of Villarreal CF alone. Arteta was forced to frequently retreat to defend, and Ashley Young on his side was also being suppressed by Sorin. Only Ribéry continued to hold out; after all, his abilities were superior to Ashley Young’s.

It could not go on this way. Tang En decided to make a substitute.

He asked Kerslake to call Anelka back from his warm-up.

Looking at the man from France, Tang En found it beyond his imagination that such an untameable forward could be standing before him now, waiting to be dispatched to the field.

“Hmm… When you’re on the field, I don’t need you to set up plays for your teammates, or work with them. I’ll arrange for the team to send you passes. Once you get the ball, you only have one mission: to take it to the goal and score.”

Anelka nodded. He liked the arrangement.

“But…” Tang En said, turning his words around swiftly, “since your mission is that simple—only needing to score goals—you should know that if you don’t succeed…”

“Then, it means I’ve underperformed.”

The Frenchman was brimming with confidence. He wanted to show this youthful team and their young manager his capabilities. He would shut the mouths of those who had either publicly or privately voiced doubts about his abilities.

Tang En looked at the serious Frenchman, his mouth turning up into a smile. “Very good! I like that!”

※※※

George Wood used a defensive maneuver that was just a nudge away from being a foul and tackled the ball from under Riquelme’s feet, kicking it out of the sidelines. He was already starting to pant heavily, and this was barely past the halfway mark of the second half!

At that moment, it was as if he had gone back in time to the previous winter in Spain’s El Madrigal. The unhurried Argentine gracefully showcased his footwork, taking him for a spin in that square inch of space. Still, derision and a lack of concern towards Wood were clearly written across that empty face.

George Wood could not withstand having the same thing happen to him again. More than half a season had passed. He should have become stronger than before.

Wood’s entire mind was filled with thoughts of how he should not be losing to Riquelme because of his improvements. However, he had not considered one factor: Riquelme was widely acknowledged by the public to be a world-class master of the midfield, a player greatly esteemed by Zidane. And how long had Wood been playing? At this point, Wood’s wish to devour Riquelme in a single bite was truly an underestimation of football in general.

Meanwhile, Riquelme, who had tossed out his thought baggage, began performing with greater ease.

The chains that had bound him were snapping apart ring by ring. The Riquelme adored by fans of the Yellow Submarine, the player who terrified his opponents, was gradually returning.

Sorin dashed forward, wanting to quickly launch a ball that had gone out of bounds, but was stopped by the whistle from the main referee. The ball that had been thrown into the field was again kicked out.

The referee signaled for a substitute on the sidelines.

The Fourth Official held a digital number sign with a red “10” and green “39”; red indicating the player stepping out, and green the player entering the field.

Anelka was substituting in for Viduka.

Watching the scene, the television commentator got excited again. “Oh! Anelka is being fielded! How long has it been? We’re again seeing this Frenchman on the field of the UEFA Champions League, despite this only being the qualifiers… the French forward has only joined Forest for a short duration of a week. They probably had barely a week to train together. What is Twain thinking, sending him out now? It’s perfectly normal to strengthen one’s offense when the defense is having some trouble. But, why would he choose to send out a player who hasn’t even established any rapport with the team?”

If Tang En could hear the doubts of the commentator, he would certainly remark on his silliness. Why send out Anelka? Why? Because his substitutes’ bench only had one forward!

Anelka slapped his palm against Viduka’s and ran swiftly into the field, even doing a short sprint. The familiar feeling was back.

Beside the field, Tang En blew once on the whistle. Upon hearing the sound, all of Forest team knew their manager was about to make some adjustments to the whole team.

When everyone looked at him, Tang En pointed to Anelka, who had just entered the field, and made a signal to pass to him.

Perhaps there were some who would be surprised by that decision—to let a forward who had trained for barely a week with the team be the attacking core, shouldering the heavy responsibility of scoring—but they all did as they were told. In Nottingham Forest, no one would doubt the decisions and power of the main manager Tony Twain. Many of them had been personally led by Tang En out from low-level leagues; he had given them glory, money, and fame. Leighton Baines, Ashley Young, Chimbonda, Franck Ribéry, and many others.

That was the advantage of having built up a team that was completely according to his own will. The manager clearly understood each player’s ability, character, strengths, and flaws, and was, therefore, able to have a firm hold over the entire team.

In England’s soccer scene, any team that had managed to sustain their successes was led by a manager who stayed with the team for an extended period. At the same time, the formation of the team was entirely decided by the manager himself, with no intervention from anyone else allowed.

For example, Alex Ferguson’s Manchester United, Matt Busby’s Manchester United, Bill Shankly’s Liverpool, Arsène Wenger’s Arsenal, and Herbert Chapman’s Arsenal…. In the over 100 years of history of modern football in England, there were countless such “one man’s teams.” Of course, that also included Brian Clough’s Nottingham Forest.

Now, Tang En hoped that someday, people would add one more team and one more person to the list: Tony Twain’s Nottingham Forest.

※※※

Forest quietly adjusted their strategy. That sort of adjustment was something that went even unnoticed by Pellegrini. In fact, he would not have believed it even if he had noticed it.

The Chilean would not believe that Tang En would dare to, in this sort of life-and-death match, allow a brand-new forward—who had joined for scarcely a week, had no rapport to speak of with the team, had an eccentric temper, and had been away from high-level European soccer for half a year—to be the key to opening the gates of victory.

But Tang En dared exactly that. The risk-taking side of him was constantly thinking about how he could make a splash. Coming up with something that made people’s jaws drop and tongues tie was his favorite hobby.

After his arrival on the field, Anelka speedily took on the heavy responsibility of Forest’s offense. Bendtner partnered with him in the front field, though it was more to the effect of having another person divert the attention of his opponents, assisting in setting-up Anelka’s play.

No matter from which direction, the ball was constantly sent to Anelka’s foot. And what everyone saw next was Forest’s members running into positions arranged to complement it, or to stand at the back watching the show. And Anelka was like a black cheetah released from captivity, surging towards the gates of Villarreal CF with the ball.

Forest’s strategy did not change. They continued to emphasize a rapid pace of attacking, passing, and moving through the midfield. Both their offense and defense were at a quick pace. What was different from before was that they had an additional express route to take: the middle.

The incredible thing was this: For Villarreal CF, who was now behind, to successfully get through the qualifiers, they needed to get at least one away goal in this match. Only in that way would they be able to maintain their morale when they returned to their home grounds, performing to a satisfactory standard. However, to be able to score a goal here, they needed to attack, which would lead to more gaps in their defense. At this time, Forest placing a strong forward who was quick and excelled at both dribbling and shooting was not just a push to widen the score gap. It also made it difficult for the Yellow Submarine to fully concentrate on their attacks.

It was a single move comprising of both offense and defense.

As expected, five minutes after Anelka got on the field, he dribbled the ball in a breakthrough, alarming Pellegrini to the point that he jumped off the managers’ seat to loudly reprimand the defenders from the sidelines. In that attempt near the margin of the penalty box, Anelka had gotten past two Yellow Submarine players one after another with little tricks before launching a shot at the goal. The shot was blocked by Vallejo’s leap, and the ball slid past the goal, flying past the end line.

The attempt caused Villarreal CF to break into a cold sweat. It also allowed Nottingham Forest’s fans to see that the abilities of the French forward remained intact.

While Pellegrini stood at the sidelines, infuriated over the performance of his own defensive line, Tang En was telling Kerslake with a straight face, “David, all nonsense about Nicolas Anelka aside, his abilities are still there.”

Kerslake was confused. “Of course, Tony. You just said that earlier.”

“Mmm, very good.” Tang En turned to continue observing the field. But before that, he did not forget to secretly glance at Pellegrini, who was still hopping away at the sidelines.

※※※

To defend, or to attack. Now that was the problem Pellegrini faced.

If they defended, they would be able to defend against Anelka, locking him down and freezing him out. Naturally, that was not difficult. But at the end of the 90 minutes, when the match ended, would they be resentful of losing the match, especially when the situation was originally starting to become advantageous for them?

If they attacked and threw themselves into the offense, they might just crush George Wood and the defensive line sitting behind him, earning an away goal; that was not impossible. However, the large swathes of empty space in their defensive line would then become Nottingham Forest’s racecourse, free for Anelka to gallop through.

Tang En’s move trapped Pellegrini and threw him into turmoil.

Pellegrini bit his lip furiously as he stood by the sidelines, his mind churning as it searched for an answer to the question.

Swiftly, he chose the first option: to defend. It was no big deal losing the match with a single goal difference. When they got back to their home grounds, it would still be advantageous for them.

He would leave the deciding factor to the second round and let Villarreal CF advance into the Champions League proper at El Madrigal.

A minute later, Villarreal CF made a substitute. Fullback álvarez took the place of forward Figueroa.

The substitution also conveyed the intentions of the manager to Villarreal’s members on the field; he did not wish to pursue victory in this match. A loss with a one-goal difference was acceptable. The team readjusted their focus, switching from offense to defense.

Riquelme had just gotten more active but was suddenly informed that he was of no use; the team need not go on the offense anymore. His face darkened. As a player who seldom needed to return for defense, he just stood in the front field watching his teammates at the back deal with Forest’s attacks repeatedly.

Since Villarreal CF had taken a step back, Tang En was not about to be courteous. He even pushed Arteta, who had originally retreated to help Wood defend, forward again; Forest’s midfield formation returned to a diamond position.

You retreat, and I’ll move forward. Anyhow, these are my home grounds; you’re at my mercy!

※※※

The situation on the field recovered in a way that satisfied Tang En. But Anelka was unhappy; he had yet to score a goal.

If he had known about Pellegrini’s choices, he would have been all too eager for the manager to decide to fight to the death instead, pushing the team to press forward. In that case, he would have many more opportunities to score.

But now? The Spaniard was acting like a coward, retreating for defense! His movement space in the front field was getting suppressed, and he was surrounded by players. How was he supposed to get a breakthrough like this? How was he going to shoot and score? How would he be able to gain the upper hand in his first exchange with the manager?

He knew that the main manager was not on board with his joining of the team. He was also sure in his heart that Nottingham Forest was merely a jumping-off point for him to spring towards an even greater stage. He did not wish to lose to such a young manager right after joining the team!

In the way he thought about Henry—what Henry was doing at Arsenal, Anelka had already achieved when he was 19—he could view Tony Twain the same way; at 19, when he was playing as the main forward in Arsenal, where was Tony?

The football was again passed to Anelka. He felt someone push him from the back, hoping to unbalance him.

He had already faced such situations countless times. Logically, he should pass the ball to a nearby teammate before trying to rid himself of the defenders who had marked him. Despite Ribéry being within just five meters ahead of him, Anelka did not want to pass the ball. He wanted to break through the opponents using his own technique and score a goal. This was a demonstration; one for the manager.

Anelka’s upper body moved quickly, a show of intention to pass to Ribéry. Even Ribéry himself was deceived; he had originally intended to cut towards the end line to disrupt the defensive line for Anelka’s benefit, instead, he jammed the brakes and twisted in a bid to return.

Anelka felt the person behind him adjust his center of gravity, intending to shift and press Ribéry directly. At that moment, Anelka swiftly nudged the ball behind him, and with a twist, he got past!

Without any impediment, álvarez, who just entered the field and was yet to warm up, passed by Anelka!

Letting a forward directly face the goalie was an extremely dangerous matter. Furthermore, it was a forward like Anelka, who excelled at shooting.

At 25 meters from the goal posts, Anelka struck the pose of wanting to do a long shot, lifting his leg high. Even the commentator was already exclaiming, “Anelka shoots-”

Just as the Brazilian, Senna, dashed forward to block Anelka’s shot, the French forward nudged the ball forward with the bottom of his foot and surpassed Senna, who completely lost his center of gravity.

Shouts of surprise rang from the spectator’s stand of Forest’s home ground. Such a purposeful display of a player’s footwork was hardly ever seen in Tang En’s football team. That was because Tang En emphasized the whole more; the techniques of the players he bought were not what he valued most. That was exactly opposite to “Le Professeur,” Wenger.

Anelka’s beautiful dribble, passing Senna, ignited the atmosphere within City Ground. The spectators’ stand erupted with deafening cheers. Everyone was waiting for a spectacular goal to occur.

After getting past, Anelka suddenly burst into action, accelerating and dashing straight into the penalty area with the ball!

The defensive line of Villarreal CF was momentarily thrown into chaos.

The way Anelka got past the two was too graceful and much too unexpected. Forest fans were delightedly surprised while Villarreal CF’s players were yelling in shock, “Block him, dammit!”

Just before two Villarreal players, donned in their yellow jersey, rushed forward hoping to prevent Anelka’s shot, the French forward abruptly took his kick!

The movement of his calf was extremely small; his act of shooting at the goal was thoroughly concealed. Villarreal CF’s goalkeeper Vallejo only noticed the shot when the ball came through from between the defender’s feet!

He leaped to the side but was too late; the ball had ricocheted off the ground next to him. By the time of its second landing, it had already gotten into the goal.

“What a great GOOOAL!!”

Perhaps, years later, Tony Twain’s “one man’s team” would not have Anelka’s name in it, and Anelka himself would not harbor any special feelings for Nottingham Forest; it was merely one of the many stations he stopped at throughout his professional career. But at this moment, City Ground resounded with record-breaking cheers for this French forward.

This was Anelka’s first goal in his first match representing the Forest Team, donning Nottingham Forest’s red number 39 jersey.