Chapter 256: Roy Keane Part 1

Chapter 256: Roy Keane Part 1

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

Lying on the ground, Wood stared blankly at the sky over Old Trafford, his mind blank. He did not know what had happened, but he could feel something warm flowing from his nose to his lips, and it tasted salty.

I'm supposed to playing, right? What's going on?

The sky over his head was getting smaller, and there were many people in the periphery. They were looking down at him.

He could recognize a few people; there was Demetrio, Roy Keane…

There was an uproar. Lots of sounds reverberated in his ears, and he could not hear what the people were saying.

While Wood was still lying on the ground and wondering what was going on, Keane was explaining to the referee that it was purely an accident. Who could know that his volley towards the goal would be blocked by George Wood, using only his face?

Wood was surrounded by many people. Off field, Twain did not know what had happened. He only saw George fall suddenly backwards. Keane's shot was too fast and too close, and his eyes could not keep up. But soon he saw the referee looking down to assess the situation, so he got up and waved to the Forest substitutes' bench to signal for the team doctor.

"What's going on?" He turned to look at the big screen above the stands at Old Trafford, where the scene was being replayed.

Keane's volley had smashed Wood in the nose!

Twain winced. He could not help but feel the pain just by watching it.

"Keane's shot hit Wood in the face. It looks like Wood is hurt pretty bad. He's still lying on the ground and can't get up..." The commentator had not finished his sentence when he saw Wood get up unsteadily from the ground.

Wood was finally able to hear what the people around him were saying. He froze when he realized that the referee wanted to send him off the field.

Send me off? A red card? Did I get sent off? How can that be? I haven't fouled yet… No, it wasn't me who fouled just now… No, who just committed a foul?

He felt dizzy and could not think clearly. He shook his head hard.

The referee assumed that his action meant "no." He spoke sternly to Wood. "Lad, you have to leave the field now!"

"Why?" Wood responded in confusion.

Next to him, Albertini explained hurriedly. "You're injured. You have to leave the field so you can receive medical attention."

"But I feel... there's nothing wrong with me." Wood was not lying. Other than his head feeling a bit heavy, he was fine. Even the feeling of dizziness was rapidly diminishing.

The Forest team doctor, Fleming, finally rushed into the crowd. He brushed aside the players who were watching hullabaloo, ran to Wood, and exclaimed, "Oh my God!"

Next to them, the referee shook his head. "Even if your body really is strong enough for there to be no problem at all, you still need to go back to the locker room and change your jersey." He pointed at Wood's chest. "The rules don't allow players to continue the game wearing a blood-stained jersey."

Upon hearing what the referee said, Wood looked down at his chest. His yellow Forest team away jersey had a huge stain of fresh blood.

What's going on?

He reached up to touch his lips and found that they were wet. Then he looked at his hands and saw that his fingers were red. Obviously, it was blood.

"Bloody hell!" Next to him, Fleming shook his head and swore. He had finally snapped out of his shock at the sight of Wood glancing down at his chest indifferently and touching his lips. "George! Look at you. You looked like someone threw ketchup on your face! What the hell are you still doing here?" He stepped forward and grabbed Wood's arm. "Come with me!"

"I'm fine, I can still..." Wood struggled.

"Do you really think this red stuff is ketchup? It's blood!" Fleming raised his voice to admonish the kid. At the same time, he also sighed internally. Does this kid not know what pain feels like? He was hit directly in the face by this shot, but he didn't even contort his face in pain.

After the referee had repeated the rules to Wood, he went to the sidelines accompanied by the team doctor, Fleming, to receive treatment to staunch the bleeding.

Roy Keane stood outside the crowd and watched Wood walking off the field at Fleming's request. He had intended to apologize to the kid and explain himself. But now, Wood did not even seem to need it.

※※※

When Twain saw the replay on the big screen, he knew that the Forest team would be down a player for a while. As a result, taking advantage of the fact that the situation on the field was still chaotic and the game had not resumed yet, he called Albertini over to the sideline, and told him to remind the entire team to focus on defense. In the absence of Wood, the team had to prioritize defense. They could not let Manchester United take advantage of the fact that the Forest team was a player short.

Albertini nodded and ran back.

After he had covered that important matter, Twain was in the right mindset to think about Wood, who was undergoing treatment from Fleming on the other side of the field. I hope it's not a broken nose.

If Wood was truly hurt and could not play for the Forest team… Twain had never considered who would be his substitute.

Gunnarsson could do it. However, in Twain's view, he had completely failed to keep up with the pace of the English Premier League. He was definitely good enough to play a main role in the English Football League Championship, which was the former Football League First Division. However, in the Premier League, he could only really be a substitute for the Forest team; after all, their goal was not simply to maintain their rank.

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Wood was on the sidelines, receiving treatment to stop the bleeding. Fleming had to first check whether his nose was broken or not, because that kind of impact was likely to lead to a fracture of the bridge of his nose. It would not be a simple matter of stuffing two balls of tissue paper up his nose.

He touched it and found that it was normal. He was relieved, and gave Wood the tissue paper.

"Stuff them in."

Wood listened and stuffed them in, but immediately took them back out.

"I can't breathe," Wood said to the perplexed Fleming.

"Breathe through your mouth..."

Wood shook his head, and then raised his head up high. He looked up at the sky and did not say anything. He then sucked in through his nose with all his strength; occasionally his throat would rattle, and something would be gulped down.

Fleming did not know what Wood was doing; soon the lad lowered his head again and said, "I'm ok."

"You're ok? It stopped?" Fleming was a little surprised. "What did you just swallow?"

"Blood," Wood answered truthfully.

Fleming grimaced. "You swallowed the blood from your nose?"

Wood nodded.

"Oh my god..." Fleming had no idea what the expression on his face looked like.

Wood ignored him and turned back to the field, but was stopped by Fleming. "Where are you going? You can't go back now without the permission of the referee. Have you forgotten? You've got to back to the locker room and change your jersey."

Wood looked down at the red bloodstains on his jersey, which did not look good at all.

So he ran past Manchester United's substitutes' bench, into the players' corridor, and back into the locker room to change his jersey.

After he watched Wood disappear into the corridor, Fleming walked towards the Forest team's technical area. Twain asked him, "What's the situation?"

Fleming grinned. "You saw him run. Do you still think there's a problem?"

"Erm..." Twain also felt he asked a rather silly question.

"What the hell did he eat growing up?" Fleming said to himself, frowning.

"What's the matter?"

"I gave him tissue paper to stuff his nose to stop the bleeding, and he complained that he couldn't breathe. Then he tilted his head back and swallowed all the blood from his nose..." Fleming grimaced.

When he heard what Fleming had said, Twain smiled. "Just get used to it, Gary."

When Wood had returned to the sidelines from the locker room, Twain stopped him. "How does it feel, George?"

Wood did not understand what he was asking. "How does what feel?"

"The feeling of shooting into the goal."

"I... can't say." Wood shook his head.

"Well... Slow down, don't rush. Don't forget to defend, either." Twain patted Wood on the shoulder and said nothing else.

The fourth official came over to check Wood's nose and make sure he had no bloodstains on his face, his neck, or his new jersey. Only then was he allowed to stand on the sidelines and wait for the referee's call.

The referee saw that Wood had already changed into his new jersey. He waved to him as he ran towards the Forest team's midfield, and Wood ran up.

※※※

Because George Wood had gone back to the locker room to change his clothes, the Forest team had had about five minutes during which they had one player less than Manchester United.

That had been a great opportunity for Manchester United to break out of the deadlock from earlier, because the Forest team was not short a striker, but a vital defensive midfielder. However, Twain's earlier adjustment had made the Forest team completely abandon their offense for those five minutes. They did not give up of their own accord, but rather because of Manchester United's fierce attack. Even if they had wanted to counterattack, they were essentially powerless.

Compared to Ryan Giggs on Manchester's left flank, Cristiano Ronaldo on the right flank was much more active. Franck Ribéry, who had consistently performed outstandingly for the last two months, was so quashed by Ronaldo that he could not attack at all.

Fortunately, Albertini was experienced, and quickly organized the Forest team's midfield defense. Apart from one time whereby Piqué did not shoot far to lift an attack and Rooney missed the goal after seizing the opportunity of not being marked by anyone, there were no other thrilling moments.

As a result, when Wood was back on the field, the score on the big screen scoreboard had not changed. It was still 0:0.

Nottingham Forest was far more tenacious than Manchester United had anticipated.

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