Chapter 93: Let Me Play Part 1

Chapter 93: Let Me Play Part 1

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

Tang En stood on the sidelines of the first field of the youth training ground and watched Andrew lead his men in watering the field. Then he looked up at the sky. Even though it was cloudy, it had not rained.

"Damn it! Weather forecasts can't be trusted anywhere!" Tang En muttered a curse under his breath. "Is this little to moderate rain?"

Tang En looked at his watch, and it was still nearly an hour before the game began. He signaled to Andrew that they did not have to do the watering anymore.

"You want us to stop watering? Are you sure, Mr. Twain?" Andrew asked loudly as he stood in the middle of the field, holding a running hose in his hands and wearing a raincoat and wellington boots.

"I'm sure! Very sure! If you keep watering, we're going to change to playing water polo with Arsenal!"

Andrew heard Twain's answer and waved his hand. The staff gathered up their equipment and left the field. Tang En took a few steps on the field, and it was slippery as if it had just rained. He was satisfied with Andrew's work.

Before the mid-nineties, the Arsenal playing style, especially in Graham's era, was rough and tough and strictly adhered to the cut and dry "1:0 code". The football ball was just flying back and forth in the air most of the time, which was not very interesting to watch. But since the arrival of the Frenchman, Arsène Wenger, their style of play has had a massive transformation. The Frenchman brought the art of football and stressed on making football entertaining to watch. He paid particular attention to short passes and ground coordination and encouraged his players to show off their personal skills. Today's Arsenal played the most beautiful football in England and was praised around the world.

However, the team that liked to play this way had higher requirements of the venue. The slippery and muddy football field, which was uneven and filled with holes, was not a suitable arena for Arsenal's performance.

Big John and Skinny Bill had arrived. There were a lot of people there. If they had been in City Ground, they would have almost filled a whole section of the stands. They stood in two rows outside the wire mesh fence, occupying half the length of the field. Although not everyone was wearing the Forest team's red jerseys like John, they all had the red scarves, and someone even made a banner overnight and hung it on the wire mesh. Tony Twain's caricature was drawn on it. Although it did not look quite like him, it highlighted his distinctive feature—his messy hair, which he had never taken care of. A caption was written next to his caricature:

Hey, Tony! Give us another victory!

As the wind blew, the caricature fluttered, and it looked like Tony Twain shouting on the field.

Looking at these enthusiastic fans, Tang En smilingly shook his head and then walked over to chat with them through the wire fence. These people were regulars at the Forest Bar, and Tang En clearly knew they were his most loyal supporters. Just as every player has a group of fans and fan club, Tang En, though not a player, had his own fans.

Ah, it felt good to be liked and recognized.

They chatted together for more than 20 minutes. The youth team players came to the field in succession, and then Kerslake led them to the locker room to change and come out to warm up. John and the others began to cheer for this group of kids. Although the youth team often had loyal fans coming to watch, today's number was so many that the players were surprised and excited.

Just as these kids were getting ready to do their warm-ups on the field, their opponents arrived.

With the blare of a horn, a red and white bus turned in from the asphalt road next to the field. The body of the bus was decorated with the Arsenal club logo and name. The bus passed the field and headed for the parking lot. Tang En glanced at it, took his leave of John and the others, and turned back to the home team's technical area, which was actually a few folding chairs for the coaches and wooden benches for the players to sit on.

Very soon, the Arsenal youth team players came in through the main entrance. Tang En saw several familiar faces in the crowd—Francesc Fàbregas, Gaël Clichy, Michal Papadopulos, Philippe Senderos…

The owners of these names would have roles to play in the international football arena in the future. Now the oldest player was an 18-year-old and the youngest was only 15 years old. After the players, the coaches entered the field.

Liam Brady, the head of the Arsenal youth team, came toward Tony Twain and extended his hand to his opponent. He was a famous Arsenal player, who had once played for Arsenal from 1975 to 1980. He was the core of the team's midfield, the brain on the field, and now the youth director of the Gunners. But Tang En did not know this man. What startled him was the tall man, standing not far behind Brady, with silvery grey hair and a big protruding nose that made him looked like a serious version of Mr. Bean—the Gunners manager, the French Professor, Arsène Wenger.

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Why did the First Team manager come here? Tang En's brain flashed a trace of doubt.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Twain. I hope this match will be a good one." Brady gave a weak, bland, and useless conventional greeting. He took Twain lightly, as well as the Forest team. So what if they had the top youth training facilities in the United Kingdom? We have the world's top youth teaching system for Arsenal.

"Well, um..." Tang En's mind was filled questions like Why is Wenger here? What is his intention in coming? Who is directing Arsenal for this match? So, he responded indifferently to Mr. Brady's greeting.

As for Arsenal's famous Mr. Brady, this naturally displeased him. He thought that Twain looked down on him and the Arsenal youth team. So, he did not say more, turned around, and walked back. Tang En's gaze was still on Wenger when he realized another person was suddenly next to Arsène Wenger. Mr. Brady has already walked back? What did he say to me just now? Oh, hell, it looks like I've offended someone again.

Arsène Wenger was talking to Brady while keeping his eyes on Fàbregas on the field. Tang En then understood that the Frenchman must have come to inspect the performances of a few young players.

The 18-year-old French full back, Clichy, had transferred from France's AS Cannes that summer. He had already played for the Arsenal First Team in the Premier League, but he had limited appearances. To maintain his competitive state, Wenger let him participate in the youth team matches. In the same situation as Clichy was the tall Swiss center back, Senderos.

Without a doubt, Tang En had reason to believe that the most important purpose of Wenger's trip to Nottingham was to inspect the Spanish kid whom he had just bought a month before—Francesc Fàbregas.

Fàbregas, who was of a lean build, was warming up on the field. He seemed very confident and without any performance anxiety. Even though he had only been on the team for a month, he looked as if he had been at Arsenal for a decade. Obviously, he would be the core of the team and the key player in the game.

Is there anyone currently on the Forest team who can defend against him? Tang En looked at the Forest players who were warming up on the other side of the field and scratched his head.

Arsène Wenger's arrival had created a flurry of excitement among the football fans watching on the sidelines. He was a celebrity from the Premier League and a world-class manager. Within John's group, besides being supporters of the Forest team, some of them were Arsenal fans too, because Arsenal played very well in their matches and had excellent offensive.

Someone was so excited that he whistled, "Look! It's that Frenchman!"

"Why is he here?"

"Who cares! Maybe we can ask him for an autograph after the match has ended..."

"Fools!" Big John interrupted their excited discussion and said with a stern face, "Now he is our enemy. Don't show so much enthusiasm! You're humiliating! Come, shout with me. Forest Forest!"

"Forest! Forest!!" A group of men pumped their fists in the air and yelled at top of their lungs.

Mr. Brady had wanted to go out on the field and personally guide the team in their warm-ups. He had just stepped onto the field when he suddenly heard the roar of the fans outside. He got a shock, slipped, and landed on his butt!

"Dammit! Ahh!" Falling on the ground and feeling embarrassed, Brady angrily smacked the ground. As a result, a piece of mud was flung onto his face and his palms were covered with more mud. "What kind of rotten field is this?"

Standing next to him, Wenger had seen Brady's foot slip and wanted to reach out to catch him. But he was too late, and the head of the youth team comically fell to the ground in front of him. Wenger smiled a little as he saw the expressions of the players on the field who had wanted to laugh but dared not to. "Liam, get up. The Forest team must have done this on purpose." He took out a clean towel and handed it to Brady. "Wipe your face first, then wipe your behind."

As matter of fact, Wenger had already noticed the problem with the field. He watched the players' expressions and actions while they were warming up on the field, and then he looked at the repeatedly overturned dirt and turf... He had encountered such a thing in the Premier League, too, but, it seemed that no other team had done it to such an extreme extent as the Forest team. It appeared they were not that comfortable in their warm-ups, as well.

After the warm-up had ended, both sides returned to their respective technical areas to receive their coaches' final biddings.

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