Godfather Of Champions Chapter 414 Thank You

"Uncle Tony?"

After she saw who was lying on the ground, Shania was stunned.

When he heard Shania call him that way, Twain's agitation finally eased. He no longer struggled. He just laid on the ground with a crooked smile on his face.

"Judy, you know him!?" Her surrounding female companions were very surprised. How could this unkempt looking man know Shania?

Shania nodded. "He was the one who sent me the Totoro toy." Next, she said to the security guards, "Please let him go, he's here for me."

Twain really had not expected that the young girl could actually speak Italian. Shania seemed to have a talent for languages.

"Mr. Twain!" A man's voice rang out behind the security guards. This time, it was Shania's agent, Terry Fasal, a boorish-looking but mindful and meticulous middle-aged man. He recognized Twain because of Shania. "What are you doing here?" He was a little shocked to see Twain pressed on the ground by a group of security guards.

"Well… It's a long story," Twain said with a grimace. "But can you ask them to pull me up first?"

"Uh, what are you doing? Mr. Twain is my invited guest."

He was also another person who spoke fluent Italian.

The security guards, who were initially hesitant, did not hesitate this time. They immediately pulled Twain up. Someone even patted the dust off him and repeatedly said "I'm sorry" in Italian. The difference in their att.i.tudes was really vast. Twain once again realized the importance of mastering a foreign language.

Twain, who had stood up again, had scratches and dust on his face. He looked at Shania with a silly smile.

When Shania saw his face, she could not lose her temper even if she wanted to. Instead, Fasal said, "Let's find a place to sit and talk."

※※※

In Shania's apartment, Fasal left after a brief exchange of a few simple words. Now only Twain and Shania were left. Twain held a gla.s.s of water in his hands and looked at Shania opposite him with a silly grin still plastered on his face.

Shania was at her wit's end when Twain was this way. She got up and went to the bathroom to take a towel. She pa.s.sed it to Twain. "Wipe your face."

Twain obediently took the towel and wiped his face. Then he continued to smile. "Shania, it feels great to hear you call me 'Uncle Tony' again."

Shania pouted.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?"

Shania pretended to be surprised. "Did you call me?" Then she took out her cell phone from her bag and glanced at it. "Oh, it's turned off."

Twain knew that Shania was lying, but he did not point it out.

"Have you been busy at work recently?" He asked.

Shania nodded and then shook her head again. "It's okay."

"We haven't seen each other for half a year, have we?"

"It hasn't been that long. We just had a video chat two weeks ago."

"Oh, but how can a video chat be better than talking face to face? No matter how high the resolution is on camera, can it be as clear as me, a real person sitting in front of you? Even if the network is advanced, can it beat being able to speak like this without any delay?"

Shania put her hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. We'll take it that you're right. It has been a long time since we last saw each other."

Twain chuckled. "I haven't seen you in six months. I feel like you've grown up a lot."

"Are you going to treat me like an adult?"

"In my eyes, you'll always be that little girl."

Shania pouted in silence.

Children always wanted others to see them as adults. When Tang En was a child, he had also thought this way, so he could understand Shania. But…"Is it nice to grow up? Do you want to grow up, Shania?"

"I don't know." Shania shook her head. "But when I grow up, I can do what I want to do. I don't have to worry about my father and mother always nagging at me. 'Judy, you have to do this.''Jordana, you have to do that.' It's so annoying."

It was just like a child who thought that if he were to grow up, he could watch cartoons every night and not be urged to go to bed. If he did not have to sit for tests, he would not have to worry about poor grades and being reprimanded by his parents at home. He would not be afraid of his teachers. He could do what he wanted to do without anyone's control; he would decide for himself.

It was a simple idea.

Twain smiled as he looked down at the unhappy Shania. He got up to change his seat and sat next to Shania. He raised his hand over Shania's head, hesitated mid-air, and finally gently placed his hand on Shania's shoulder.

"But adults have worries too."

Shania rested her head on Twain's shoulder and asked a question that panicked Twain. "You mean like worrying about gossip in the media?"

After she blurted that out, Shania could feel Twain sit up with a stiffened back. She lowered her head and secretly smirked.

Twain coughed twice. "That's all fabricated by the paparazzi. There's nothing between Miss Gloria and me. We're just good friends. She drove me here to see you. She's actually a very nice person. You'd certainly like her if you met her."

Shania snorted.

Twain felt that it was not a good idea to continue with that topic. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost eleven o'clock. "Ah, it's really late. I should go back. There's still a game tomorrow."

Shania lifted her head from Twain's shoulder. He pulled his hand back to take a ticket from his pocket and handed it to Shania, "I'm sure you didn't buy a ticket, so I'm giving you one."

"Tomorrow? But I have a job tomorrow." Even though she said that, Shania still took the ticket to the game.

"If you're too busy with work, it's okay. You don't have to go."

Twain stood up and Shania saw him to the door.

Just as Twain was about to turn and leave, Shania called him. "Uncle Tony."

"Yes?" Twain turned to look at Shania, leaning against the door.

"Thank you for coming to see me..." Shania lifted her head.

Twain smiled. "Go back and rest. You still have work tomorrow."

"Ok." Shania nodded. Twain watched her walk back into the apartment. When he heard her close the door, he walked to the elevator.

It was a high-rise apartment with elevator. They did not have to worry about the paparazzi loitering in the corridor or on the doorstep. The security guards would not let them in. However, no one could control them if they stood outside the building.

Twain walked out of the lobby and deliberately stood at the door for a while. He looked left and right. He knew that there must be people hiding on both sides. But he could not cut off contact and communication with people whom he was familiar with just because he was afraid of being followed and photographed by the paparazzi. If they want to take his picture, let them. He had nothing to hide.

At that point, Twain straightened his collar and stepped out.

※※※

Once she saw Twain get on the taxi downstairs through the window, Shania pulled the curtains closed. Then she gave a call to her agent, Terry Fasal. "Mr. Fasal, about the job tomorrow....can you postpone it?"

"Because you're going to see the game?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I got it."

"Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Fasal."

"Not a problem. I'm glad to see that things between you two are alright again." Fasal laughed and hung up the phone.

With the phone in her hand, Shania also laughed as she recalled the scene where Twain was pinned to the ground by the group of security guards.

Because he could not get through to my phone and happened to catch this week's live broadcast program on the television, he decided to come in person, and was then mistaken as a thief and gangster by the security guards, and even pinned to the ground as he struggled. Uncle Tony is too adorable!

※※※

It was 11:30 P.M. when Twain returned to his hotel. The players had already gone to bed to rest. But Kerslake, who was worried about Twain, waited for him at the door of his room. He was a little surprised when he saw Twain appear in front of him. Not because Twain had come back, but because of his torn jacket.

"Were you out… in a bar?" Kerslake thought about it and did not say "fight." Twain had a short fuse, but he was not a troublemaker.

"No.," said Twain with a grin.

"What about your clothes?" Kerslake pointed to the torn sleeve.

"Oh." Twain looked down. "It was purely an accident. But David, what are you doing here? Have the players gone to rest?"

"I waited for you." Kerslake shrugged. "They all went to bed."

"Good. You should go rest too, David. Don't forget that we have a tough compet.i.tion tomorrow."

Kerslake looked at the smiling Twain. He sighed in his heart and darkly thought, So, you do realize that there's a tough fight tomorrow, huh?

"Okay, you rest early as well."

Even though he said that, Kerslake did not move. He looked at Twain open the room door, enter, and close the door before he turned to leave.

※※※

Twain slept soundly for a long time. He did not even dream. He was full of energy when he woke up, no longer agitated. Now no matter how much the media speculated, he would not lose sleep over it. He could really put all his energy into the game with Inter Milan. He just did not know if it was too late.

As the game was held in the evening, all the meal times had been pushed forward. After lunch, the team had a rest. Their dinner was around four o'clock in the afternoon. It was followed by a short break, then the team would wait for the bus to go to the stadium for their pre-game preparations.

There were only two main activities for the day, which were rest and compet.i.tion.

During dinner time, Twain appeared in front of all the players in high spirits. His voice was also full of energy.

"Good morning, boys!"

There was laughter all around.

"Chief, it's already afternoon!"

Twain laughed too. "It's great to see you all in such good spirits. Is everyone ready?"

"We're all ok."

"Very good. Let's eat." Twain waved his hand and turned to walk out of the restaurant. There were still people waiting for him outside.

Clarice Gloria had already begun work. But since she did not see what had happened for the rest of yesterday, so she was not very a.s.sured. She especially came to the hotel to see Twain. Twain had to thank her in person.

Although there was a lot of media inside and outside of the hotel lobby, Twain and Gloria did not intend to hide their meeting. They openly found a place to sit down in the hotel lobby to have a chat and ignored the camera flashes from the reporters.

"I really want to thank you for yesterday," Twain said.

"It looks like your troubles have been resolved, Mr. Twain. You look much better." Gloria winked. "I look forward to tonight's game."

Twain smiled.

"Clarice?"

"Yes?"

"Have you interviewed a lot of people in the football circle?"

"Yes; I have a partners.h.i.+p with the UEFA. If they want to make some special features, they ask me for help most of the time."

"Do you think a manager like me, who ran out to solve a personal problem before an important game, is incompetent?"

"Well, this is the real you, which I think is good. It's much better than those who wear a mask in front of the cameras and say something that they would usually scoff at," said Gloria as she shook her head.

"Thank you."

Gloria stood up. "I should head back. You're going to the stadium soon, right? We'll meet there." She graciously extended her hand.

"Ok, see you later." Twain also put his hand out. The two of them shook hands naturally under the glare of the media.

Scandal? Twain now had no such word in his mind. Let other people think what they want. It's ok as long as the people I care about don't believe them. I'm not obligated to answer to the media and rubberneckers.

※※※

As a stadium which was similarly used by the sworn enemies in the same city, it was famous because both teams were t.i.tans. Therefore, it had two names: San Siro and Meazza.

AC Milan fans called their team's home ground San Siro, whereas Inter Milan fans called it Meazza. The AC Milan fans would never call the stadium "Meazza," and Inter Milan fans would never allow anyone to call the stadium "San Siro" in front of them.

The rivalry between the two team fans had created the special story of the stadium.

There was a common saying in England about football: there would be no modern football without the derby.

That phrase was accurate whether it was applied to Britain or other countries. In Italy, Milan was the fas.h.i.+on capital but also the capital of football, because of the derby. Few cities had two world-cla.s.s football powerhouses at the same time, each with a long and glorious history, sharing the same stadium.

Looking at the familiar stadium that appeared in front of him, Nottingham Forest's captain, Demetrio Albertini, felt his heart surge with an inexplicable feeling.

He had not expected to return to the stadium after being on loan to Atlético Madrid in the 02-03 season. His opponents today were not AC Milan, but his old rival, Inter Milan.

He should thank Tony Twain. It was this man who had given him the opportunity to return to San Siro. But why did he have to be a visitor?

Sitting in the front row, Twain turned back to glance at Albertini, who was lost in thought as he stared out of the window and the stadium came closer.

Kerslake also noticed Albertini's feelings about the stadium. He was somewhat worried. "Tony- Demetrio..."

"Don't worry, David. I believe in Demetrio. He's a professional player," said Twain as he turned back to the front.

Twain was right. When Albertini changed to the Nottingham Forest jersey in the locker room and put the captain armband on his left arm, the expression in his eyes changed. He looked resolute and calm.

He was the captain of the team. The entire team and his coaches were watching him. How could he be distracted by feelings unrelated to this game? If the captain was shaken, the others could not be expected to play well.

The players had already finished their warm-up and were back in the locker room.

Twain stood at the door and said seriously to the roomful of players, "I don't want to talk too much nonsense. I only have one requirement for every game. You all know it. Today's game is no exception. Try your very best to win!"

When Twain finished speaking, Albertini was the first to stand up, which took a lot of people by surprise.

"Let's go, guys!"

He took the lead to open the door of the locker room.

He took the path to that familiar green field. He had walked that path for fourteen years. Whether it was for AC Milan's home games or "away games" with Inter Milan, he regarded himself as the owner of the stadium. This time, he really walked this path as a visitor.

But, so what?

I'm Demetrio Albertini. This is my way.

And Nottingham Forest number 4 marched out.