Godfather Of Champions Chapter 237: The Madman Part 1

Chapter 237: The Madman Part 1

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

After seeing the high ball from Ribéry, Bendtner knew that this ball had to be his. Because of its hasty return to defense, the Chelsea line of defense had been ripped apart. Now, the only player close to him was the curly-haired Carvalho; and he was not worried that he would lose to him.

This is the moment I've been waiting for!

He took a big step, opened his arms and dashed towards the football. Even though he knew that he would collide with Carvalho, he did not seem to consider protecting himself. Instead, he forcibly knocked his opponent aside with his body and swung his head to head the ball in!

The speed, strength, and angle of the ball were impeccable. Petr Čech brandished his hands, but could not stop the ball from flying into the goal. Perhaps he had not expected his teammate to concede in the contest for the ball in the air.

After the goal, Bendtner charged towards the corner flag with his arms spread wide open and stood under the surging waves of red in the stands, pulling at his jersey and yelling. When he had chosen Nottingham Forest and given up a.r.s.enal's invitation, there were some people who had laughed at him. When he came to Nottingham and played as a subst.i.tute continuously for a month without even appearing in an official game for a minute, the mocking had become even louder.

Now, he finally had used concrete actions to prove his strength and shut the mouths of those who laughed at him.

There was no better maiden showing than this.

"This is the first goal scored by the Dane in an official game played on behalf of Nottingham Forest! The seventeen-year-old genius, Nicklas Bendtner, has a strong body, excellent skills, and a formidable force of impact! What's even more unbelievable is his youth! Tony Twain has good cards in his hand; look at his players, behold their performances, and consider their ages. It's really exciting!"

※※※

When he saw Bendtner head the football into the goal guarded by Cech, Twain and his a.s.sistant manager, Kerslake, jumped out of their seats. David rushed to the sideline while Twain brandished his fist in the direction of Mourinho in the Chelsea technical area and looked at Mourinho with a triumphant smile.

He did it on purpose; he was deliberately provoking Mourinho, and he enjoyed the thrill of being in the lead over his opponent. Indeed, he had not even felt so exhilarated when he was ahead of a.r.s.enal.

He was delighted when he saw his opponent's surly expression.

Mourinho was truly upset. Like Twain, he did not want to lose this game, especially not to this man. Originally, this had just been a normal match in the league and the Forest team had been just an average opponent. But Twain's provocation before the match and that clash during the game made him dislike this manager. In fact, often times, Mourinho's arrogant and conceited way of antagonizing people everywhere was a form of premeditated psychological warfare. But this time, he really detested the sight of the n.o.body who was celebrating and gesticulating in joy next to him.

"Call Eiður Guðjohnsen over to get ready to play." He turned back to his a.s.sistant manager, Steve Clarke. Just when Clarke was about to turn to go, Mourinho stopped him again. "Get Parker here too!"

Clarke obviously understood what the remark meant, but he was still stunned for a moment and did not turn to go immediately. Mourinho stared at the field and said, "Steve, there are times… when a little risk is needed in football."

※※※

"This is the Forest team's out of bounds ball, and Chelsea is bringing on a subst.i.tution. Mourinho is bringing on two players with twenty minutes left in the game... attacking players! Both an attacking and defending midfielder, Scott Parker and the Icelandic striker Eiður Guðjohnsen! Mourinho has used up all of his subst.i.tutions. It looks like Chelsea, currently behind, is going all out!"

Mourinho had brought on two attacking players, and the pressure on Nottingham Forest's line of defense spiked. Twain countered the move and made his subst.i.tutions when Mourinho made his. He replaced Ashley Young with a defending midfielder, Gunnarsson. He then allowed Ribéry to move freely in the front field, interweaving between the left, middle, and right flanks. His role was not to organize attacks, but to maintain constant pressure on Chelsea's defense. More often than not, the football was sent directly from the backfield to the top of Bendtner's head, and Ribéry did not need to organize any attacks. Of course, if he did receive the ball, it would be his priority to try to control the ball in every possible way. He could covertly waste the game time by tricking his opponents into committing fouls.

In addition, Twain asked Gunnarsson to pa.s.s on a message to the team: Once our opponents commit a foul, if you can lie down on the ground, just lie down for a while. Don't be in a hurry to get up, regardless of whether you have the physical strength or not, whether your body is strong or not. It doesn't matter if you only joined the game after the starting lineup.

For the sake of victory, we will use any means. What's a little procrastination in the game time?

Twain looked at the frowning Mourinho in the other technical area, pacing back and forth between the technical area and the sidelines, and smirked.

For the rest of the game, the Forest players suddenly all became fragile. Whenever the Chelsea players tried to tackle and trip them, they would immediately scream in pain and roll in the mud. Following that, there would be the sound of the referee's whistle, and Chelsea would have committed a foul.

The game would be interrupted by one incident or another, and Chelsea could not get their rhythm in sync, let alone win the game. The Forest team had three defending midfielders and two center backs. Against such abilities, Lampard felt as if he was stuck in a quagmire.

And Drogba? With two players, Piqué and Wood, defending against him, he could only hurriedly shoot towards the goal, but did not pose much of a threat to the Forest team's goal.

Off the field, Mourinho decided to defend and fight for the game, but the current Chelsea team was not the one that would sweep across England a year later and maintain their unbeaten home ground record. The players were very impatient on the field and out of sync with each other. Guðjohnsen and Parker, who were just brought on, each thought that he was the savior of the team. When one of them received the ball, he would want to break through to shoot the goal. Even when they faced the Forest team's defense and had no chance, they would force a long shot; it's not hard to imagine the outcome of that.

When he first saw this, Mourinho would stamp his feet on the sidelines. Later, he simply sat in his seat, saying and doing nothing. In the face of the Forest players, who relaxed more as they played with even the center back daring to make bold moves, Mourinho seemed to have already felt his defeat.

It did not seem like now was the time to fight to turn the tide of the war, but rather to reflect on why they had arrived at this point.

What exactly happened...and how did we end up like this? I will admit that Ferreira being sent off more than ten minutes into the start of the game put us at a disadvantage in our numbers, and it was no small impact. But later we equalized the score and at one point we had a chance to turn the tide and reverse the situation. What happened then?

He glanced at the Forest team manager, the one that he loathed, Tony Twain. He was no longer putting on a show, but just stood on the sidelines, watching the game.

He looked down at his wrist watch again; it was less than ten minutes until the end of the game.

Winning? Don't even think about it!

※※※

The cheering in the City Ground's stands was getting louder and louder, and the Forest fans chanted Brian Clough's name. This was not to cheer on the Forest players in the hopes that they held fast against the enemy's frenzied attack. No, this was a call to the legend of their generation in the heavens, telling him the current situation of the team that he had once led, but which had fallen into the abyss.

The fearsome Red Forest had come back!

No… Maybe it hadn't quite fully returned yet, but it was not far!

※※※

As the match time went by minute by minute, Chelsea had utterly run out of ideas. Mourinho had already stopped directing the game and just sat in his seat and posed with a dark expression. He intended to let his team have a taste of defeat, but that did not mean he would willingly lose to Tony Twain. From a long-term point of view, the benefit of losing a game at this time was even greater.

If we want to win the champions.h.i.+p, it's better to let them know the taste of failure at the right time, and to be on guard against failure at all times, than to fail at the most critical moment of the champions.h.i.+p battle.

When the fourth official raised the sign on the sidelines to indicate that the injury stoppage time was three minutes, Mourinho stood up from his seat. Of course, he did not go to the sidelines to shout at the players to stake it all and attack. Instead he just stood on the edge of the technical area. The cheering in the City Ground stadium grew increasingly louder. He just coolly watched the excited red-clad fans.

Manchester United, a.r.s.enal and Liverpool all had red colors, and now there was a red colored Nottingham Forest. One of English football traditions was the red and blue confrontation. It did not matter whether the Forest team was comparable to the three teams now; in Mourinho's mind, it had been elevated to the same position as the first three teams. Wait till we return to Stamford Bridge. We will strike back for today's defeat!

In the last half-minute of the injury stoppage time, Chelsea's offense gradually vanished. The football was controlled at the feet of the team captain, Albertini. Lampard did not go up to s.n.a.t.c.h it. He was not the only one. The other Chelsea players also seemed listless. Before the game, when they had arrived at the City Ground stadium, they had held the view that "these three points are in the bag." They had not expected to lose the game.

The referee, Poll, did not continue with the injury stoppage time, but wisely blew the whistle to end the game.

"The game is over! In an unexpected turn of events, Nottingham Forest has beaten Chelsea on their home ground! Mourinho's team has lost for the first time this season, and Tony Twain has scored a key victory on this special day. Brian Clough has a successor to carry on his work!"