Chapter 502: The Best Draw There Is

The headquarters of the Fédération Internationale de Football Association was in Zurich, the capital of Switzerland, while the headquarters of the Union of European Football Associations was in the small Swiss town of Nyon. Gathered there were the best football managers in almost all of Europe.

The draw ceremony for the Champions League round of 16 this season would be held there, with the media flocking in to eagerly report and wait in suspense for each choice to be unveiled.

The draw ceremony was held in the afternoon. Many luxury cars drove to the hotel entrance in succession where the draw ceremony was held. The reporters waiting at the hotel entrance began to get busy, as the people they had waited for had appeared.

It was as if all these managers had settled it in advance. The ones who had already arrived were the managers of the non-powerful teams. None of the real big-name giants had arrived yet.

That group of people arrived at the last minute.

The first person to appear in front of the media was the Manchester United manager, Alex Ferguson. He gave a brief interview after he stepped out of the car. His arrival brought the long-waiting journalists back to their feet — everyone still liked to see a big-name manager show up.

While Ferguson was in an interview, a white Audi stopped at the hotel entrance behind him and out stepped his old adversary, Arsène Wenger.

Wenger walked straight past Ferguson as if he had not seen him. When the reporters saw the Arsenal manager appear, half of them immediately diverted to approach Wenger, who strode away. He went a distance away from Ferguson before he stopped for an interview.

Having come to cover the draw ceremony, Tang Jing’s eyes lit up when she saw this scene. The feud between these two managers in the English Premier League was often more interesting than the star players’ gossip. In other countries’ leagues, where the managers might not have this kind of exposure, the decades-long feud between Wenger and Ferguson was unimaginable.

After Ferguson and Wenger, the other big-name managers took to the stage one by one.

The Bayern Munich manager, Ottmar Hitzfeld, the Inter Milan manager, Roberto Mancini, the Real Madrid manager, Fabio Capello…

Each manager’s appearance caused a flurry of activity and commotion with the press.

Twain and Dunn sat in a dark red sedan provided by the UEFA and chatted casually. He noticed that the car had slowed down, so he poked his head out to take a look. He turned his head back to Dunn and said, with a smile, “I think we’re almost there.”

“It’s very crowded,” Dunn said as he looked at the cars parked alongside the road.

“It’s really bustling with noise and excitement.” Twain laughed. When a large group of people with all kinds of hostilities came together, it would be a surprise if it were not lively.

Just when Twain and Dunn could see clearly the reporters around the entrance, the car stopped. The driver turned around and said, “Here we are, gentlemen.”

“Thank you.” Dunn opened the car door to get out, only to be pulled back by Twain.

“Wait a minute.” He pointed outside.

Dunn looked through the car window and saw that the man who had come out of the car parked in front of them was the Chelsea manager, José Mourinho.

Oh, Dunn realized.

Mourinho seemed very popular. From the moment he got out of the car, the flashbulbs outside had not stopped flashing. The reporters swarmed around him, and countless microphones extended toward him. He stood with a smile in the crowd and looked debonair. Some English media outlets stated that Mourinho was the most suave among the managers, and it did not seem to be just flattery.

As Mourinho’s interview was not done and Twain was not in a hurry to get out of the car, he just sat in the car and intently watched Mourinho outside.

The driver found it odd that the two men had not gotten out of the car, so he looked back several times hoping to remind the two, but Twain turned a blind eye to it. Dunn knew what the driver meant, but Twain would not get out, so he had to pretend he did not see it either.

This went on for about two minutes before the reporters became interested in the dark red Mercedes, which had stopped at the entrance without any activity. The glass windows of the car were tinted, so no one could see in from the outside, but it was clear to see the outside from the inside.

Someone ditched Mourinho and turned his attention to this side. Furthermore, another car parked behind this car began to press on the horn impatiently, which attracted almost everyone’s attention. Even Mourinho, who was answering questions in an interview, turned his head.

In the car, Twain took his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on. He turned to Dunn with a sly smile. “It’s time for us to make an entrance, Dunn.”

With that, he took the lead to open the car door and leaned out.

Dunn followed helplessly behind him. He knew what Twain had in mind. If it had been him, he would never have done such a thing to steal the limelight.

As soon as Twain showed his face, no one was surprised by the car’s bizarre conduct.

Maybe the first thought in everyone’s mind was just so, it turned out to be that guy!

Twain wore a bright smile. He waved to many media outlets and said, “hey, good afternoon, everyone.”

The reporters all rolled their eyes

While the reporters were bemused, Tang Jing squeezed in front of Twain. “We meet again, Mr. Twain.” She greeted him in Mandarin, and Twain replied likewise.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Miss Tang.”

The reporters around them listened in bafflement at the conversation in Mandarin. Tang Jing quickly switched back to English and threw out her question. “What do you anticipate from this draw, Mr. Twain?”

This question was exactly what the other reporters wanted to ask. Once they heard someone had asked the question, many microphones, recording pens and call phones were shoved in Twain’s face.

Twain cleared his throat and opened his mouth to answer.

When Twain got out of the car, the Mercedes immediately drove to the carpark. The car lined up behind them immediately pulled over and stopped behind Twain. The car door opened and a man in a dark suit with countless corkscrew curls on his head stepped out.

Someone immediately laughed among the reporters. They were not laughing at the man’s hairstyle, as it was pretty common, but rather at the coincidence.

Mourinho was still speaking to several Portuguese journalists in the front as most of the other reporters swarmed to Tony Twain when he appeared, ready to hear what astonishing words might pop from his mouth. Then just as Twain was about to open his mouth and talk, Rijkaard emerged behind him.

The three enemies…

Twain was momentarily distracted due to Rijkaard’s appearance, but he quickly turned his attention back to the reporter’s question. This time, he raised his voice slightly. “What do I anticipate from this draw? Ah, I’d love to meet an ‘old friend.'” As he spoke, he looked down at Rijkaard walking up the steps and held out his hand toward him with a smile on his face. “Hello, Mr. Rijkaard.”

Rijkaard originally intended to ignore Twain and just walk straight past. However, now that he had extended his hand to him, it would not look good if he did not return the gesture. He had to smile and briefly shake Twain’s hand before he let go.

“Hello, Mr. Twain.”

Rijkaard wanted to go after he had spoken, but he was stopped by Twain. “Mr. Rijkaard, what do you hope for from this draw?”

Rijkaard did not think that Twain would ask such a question. He froze for a moment before he replied, “there is nothing to hope for. The result will be what it is. We just play the game. It does not matter who the opponent is.”

“Well said, Mr. Rijkaard. I think so, too. It doesn’t matter who the opponent is.” With that, Twain pushed the reporters aside and walked in with a playful grin. He stopped answering any questions.

As he walked past Mourinho, the Portuguese, who had finished his interview, seemed to have waited for him. “You’re pretty confident,” he said in a low voice. Aren’t you afraid of what the UEFA secretly have in store? You humiliated the UEFA last season. Think about Chelsea, eh?”

Twain turned to look at Mourinho and laughed. “I’m suddenly keen for the UEFA to do something now.”

Twain laughed as he walked away.

※※※

Twain left confidently, but Dunn was held back by the reporters.

The person who held back Dunn was Tang Jing. She had to make the Chinese assistant manager accept her interview to discuss his thoughts on participating in the UEFA Champions League draw ceremony.

After half a season, the media had also accepted this Chinese assistant manager, who went hand in hand with Twain. Therefore, when the other media saw that he was being held back by Tang Jing to answer questions, they also gathered around. Dunn wanted to ask Twain to take him away, but Twain seemed to have completely forgotten that there was another person who came with him, and had just gone straight in.

“Don’t look, Coach Dunn.” Tang Jing smiled smugly. She had nimbly made this person stay behind. “Can you answer my question?” She felt that the quiet Dunn in front of her was more likeable than the other man, for she had no trouble in prying open his mouth. When she faced Twain, she needed to consider how to discern the veracity of every word that came out of him.

“After last season’s Champions League final, Manager Twain embarrassed the UEFA.” Tang Jing repeated in English so that the reporters around her could understand her question. “As an assistant manager for the team, are you worried about what the UEFA has in mind for this draw ceremony?”

Dunn knew he could not evade today, so he helplessly said, “I don’t know. But we were lucky during the draw for the group stage.”

“But now there’s going to be a new draw.” Tang Jing reminded him what had happened was already in the past and that nothing was definite.

“That is why I don’t know. I don’t know anything about what hasn’t happened yet.”

Tang Jing pursed her lips. The answer suddenly deluded her into thinking that she would rather have Tony Twain standing in front of her.

“In that case, can you make a prediction? Or which team do you want the Forest team to encounter in the round of 16?” She had to ask in a different way.

“Any team will be fine.” Being forced to face this on behalf of Twain, Dunn chose the tactic of passive resistance. He always fobbed people off with the most perfunctory answers when faced with such questions.

“Coach Dunn, don’t tell me you don’t have any team in mind that you particularly want to encounter, or avoid?”

“No,” Dunn replied clearly and succinctly. Tang Jing seethed with anger.

“Is this how Twain teaches you to deal with the media?” She suddenly switched to Mandarin with a frown. The reporters around them were confused again.

Dunn froze for a moment and then shook his head. “No.”

“So, you learned from Twain, is that it? There are so many things to learn, why did you learn from him? Oh, my God. One Twain is enough. I don’t want another one. Please, Mr. Dunn. I can’t write an article when you do this. I can’t write that my interviewee replied ‘I don’t know’ to every question I asked, can I?”

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Looking at Tang Jing’s pleading expression, Dunn hesitated and said, “I really don’t have any thoughts on this. Whichever team we draw, we’ll just take out the profile on that team – we have prepared reports for all fifteen teams in advance. That’s why I said that. I’m not trying to mislead you, Miss Tang. It’s the truth.”

Although Dunn spoke sincerely, it did not satisfy Tang Jing. Such an answer would not satiate the readers’ curiosity at all. She looked miserably at Dunn.

Dunn was quiet for a while before he finally sighed. “Okay… Tony did not say anything to me, but I thought… I guess, I think he would love to encounter a team that we had played against before.”

This was the answer that Tang Jing wanted. She immediately perked up and changed the expression on her face. She followed up and asked, “Why did you say that? Is it because you know them well enough and therefore you have the knowledge?”

Dunn shook his head, “No. The teams we have beaten before, he wants to continue to win. The ones we had never won against before, he wants to… get revenge.”

It suddenly dawned on Tang Jing and she smiled sweetly at Dunn. “Thank you very much, Mr. Dunn. Oh, this will be my exclusive.”

They had been conversing in their mother tongue. Next to them, the other reporters did not understand the Mandarin conversation.

“You mustn’t tell anyone else.” Tang Jing turned her back against the others and winked at Dunn.

Dunn nodded obediently and then looked at the Tang Jing. “Can I go now, Miss Tang?”

Hearing this, Tang Jing giggled. “I’m not holding you captive. Why are you asking me?”

“Err…” Dunn also realized that it was out of place of him to say that. “Then… I’m leaving.”

Dunn struggled to squeeze out of the crowd and catch up to Twain. The reporters started throwing all sorts of questions at Dunn, but he just walked away without another word – this was what he was best at.

Behind him, Tang Jing looked his slightly stooped shoulders and suddenly thought of a textbook in her high school: The Man in the Case.

There were media outlets in China that currently stated that Dunn was a grassroots hero and a talented coach in the football circles who managed to go abroad. But did anyone know the events behind it?

She used to research Dunn’s previous experiences, and people around him all said he was not an easy person to get along with. He was withdrawn and not likeable. In middle school, all the boys would play football. But because he did not play well and had few friends, he would be pushed aside to watch the others play football on the sidelines.

Tang Jing did not know the specific circumstances at that time, but she could make an associative connection and imagined how Dunn would be like at that time. He would just seal himself in a black case and use silence to deal with the whole world.

A special feeling suddenly bloomed in her heart.

※※※

There were not many people inside the hall of the draw ceremony when Dunn pushed open the door, so it was easy for him to find Twain, who was chatting to others. He quickly marched over and then stood noiselessly behind Twain.

The man Twain was chatting with was the Arsenal manager, Wenger. He saw Dunn appear behind Twain and seem to have something that he could not say in front of others. Twain did not seem to know someone was behind him, so he was confused when Wenger found an excuse to end the conversation and left.

“Tony…” Dunn opened his mouth when he saw Wenger leave.

“How does it feel?” Twain asked without turning back.

“What?” Dunn did not understand what Twain was asking.

“What did that female reporter ask?”

“She threw me the question she wanted to ask you.” Dunn was a little disgruntled.

Twain smiled. “Sorry, I used you as a shield.”

Dunn did not take up this topic. Instead, he asked, “I’d love to know your thoughts too, Tony. What kind of outcome do you want for this draw?”

“I certainly want a weak opponent… the weaker the better.” Twain snickered.

“I think it will be hard for the UEFA to do what you want.”

Twain turned his head and looked at the platform where the staff was still busy finishing up. The UEFA bigwigs would be there to take the round balls out of the clear glass box and open them in front of everyone to prove the draw results were fair.

Behind the platform was a huge television screen that was repeatedly playing some of the highlights of the Champions League group stage. The UEFA and the eight star logo symbolizing the Champions League appeared around the table.

“Dunn, the draw result is not something we can control. Why are you thinking about what will happen? The team that is drawn will be the team we play. Don’t tell me you’re still worried that we will get a strong team and be eliminated early?”

“I’m not worried.”

“Then what else is there? No matter which team we get, we are not afraid. We will deal with whoever is in our way. If the UEFA wants to mess with us, I’ll meet the challenge!”

※※※

An hour later in Nottingham, England.

Eastwood phoned each of his teammates and said, “Hey, guys, turn on your telly! Watch the TV! They’re about to draw the teams now! What? You’re all watching.. Well, then I don’t have to repeat, watch the telly!”

He threw his phone down and clasped his hands under his chin. He held his breath as he stared at the television screen.

Everyone on the Forest team stayed home to watch the live telecast of the draw ceremony. There were countless Nottingham Forest fans just like them.

Kenny Burns’ pub was packed with people. Everyone held a beer mug as they looked up at the television, looking forward to the results of the draw.

Nottingham Forest had been picked, but their opponent was yet to be determined.

The televised broadcast gave Twain a close-up. He was staring intently at the stage, but there was a hint of smile at the corners of his mouth.

The cab driver, Landy James currently wanted the traffic signal light at the intersection in front of him to break down and remain red. The broadcaster’s voice could be heard on the car radio announcing the latest situation of the draw to his listeners.

“Real Madrid’s opponent is Bayern Munich. This is the fourth time in the last seven years that these old foes of the European football has competed with each other. Inter Milan will play against Valencia. This is the fourth time in six years that both teams have competed…”

Landy stared ahead, but his eyes were unfocused. His fingers gently tapped the steering wheel. Cars behind him were honking, but he did not notice.

※※※

Nearly half of the teams had drawn for the competition, and the suspense was now diminishing. Twain looked at Dunn, who sat next to him, and found that he was not nervous at all. He just looked at the people on the stage with the same concentration. Twain smiled and turned his attention back to the draw ceremony.

“The next to be picked is… Nottingham Forest’s opponent in the round of 16.” The host announced. The UEFA’s number two, Michel Platini, walked to the glass box and slowly put his hand out towards the box with only a few balls left.

Half the people in Nottingham held their breath.

Landy James’s fingers stopped tapping but hung in the mid-air. A policeman knocked on his car window from outside the car, but it was like he had been petrified by the devil. He had turned a deaf ear to the outside world.

Eastwood sat on the couch with his body leaning forward. He looked ready to stand up at any moment as he muttered to himself.

Kenny Burns stopped wiping the glasses and looked up at the television like everyone else. The packed bar was quiet except for the sound coming out of the television.

Platini fumbled around the box for a while and grabbed a ball. He took it out and opened it with his head down. He took out a folded piece of paper, unfolded it to take a look. The television broadcast zoomed in on Platini. The Frenchman’s face was expressionless. The answer could not be predicted from his face.

He smiled suddenly as he flipped the note over to face the many managers under the stage. He faced the camera and viewers in front of the television.

He clearly enunciated the name on this note:

“Barcelona.”

※※※

“Barcelona.”

Landy suddenly smacked the horn.

Eastwood held up his fists and jumped out of the couch. The other Forest team’s players and coaches also jumped. Even the regular training ground workers did.

The quiet Forest bar suddenly burst into huge cheers.

“Well done, Frenchman!”

“Cheers! Cheers to this good f**king draw!”

“Woohoo! This is the best result I’ve ever seen!”

On the television screen, Twain pumped a fist and then held both fist up as he rose from his seat to do a circle on the spot as if he were a victorious general. His ostentatious display once again made him the focus of attention in the venue. There was a clamor in the hall with the intermingled sounds of whistles, applause, laughter, and chatter. All the media pointed their cameras at the man who caused the commotion.

Rijkaard was not far from Twain’s seat, only four seats apart. He put his arms down and marched over, unexpectedly taking Rijkaard’s hand and shaking it.

“Mr. Rijkaard, we meet again!” He had a bright smile on his face which disconcerted Rijkaard.

Even though that the draw ceremony was not over, the scene had become a mess and was as noisy as a country marketplace. The UEFA officials on the stage kept their thoughts to themselves and tried to keep a polite smile on their faces as they looked at the central figure in the commotion.

Meanwhile, half of Nottingham bellowed in madness. “Barcelona, we’re back again! Are you ready?!”