Godfather Of Champions

Anelka came up to Bale and punched him in the chest. He did not blame him for not passing, instead saying, “Not bad.” Then, he turned and ran back into the penalty area.

Ribéry also jogged over to pat Bale’s head. “You’re pretty great huh? You made me think the one dribbling earlier was me!”

“Don’t listen to his nonsense.” Arteta came up and pulled Ribéry away.

“Thanks for bringing the ball out and giving us an opportunity to attack.”

Faced with their various praises, Bale could only smile. He truly did not know what to say.

He suddenly noticed George Wood looking in his direction.

On the Youth Team, Tang En had once asked Wood to take care of Bale. Bale regarded Wood as a big brother and idol, looking up to him. Other than Tang En, the praise he hoped to hear most now was from Wood.

But when Wood saw Bale looking back, he moved his gaze away.

Bale felt somewhat disappointed. He lowered his head and turned to walk to the sidelines, preparing to throw-in.

At that point, Wood suddenly ran over and picked up the ball before Bale could.

Bale was taken aback.

“You. Receive the ball.” Wood said, pointing to the front. “Then bring it out for a pass.”

Feeling exceptionally happy, a smile grew on Bale’s face.

※※※

On the spectators’ stands, a short and chubby middle-aged man was pulling at the people around him, exclaiming excitedly, “Hey! Did you all see that? Did you all see that breakthrough? He passed three players in a row! That’s my son! My son is a genius! I’ll tell you, those idiots at Southampton didn’t believe me. They must be dying of regret! My son is a genius! A real genius!”

Whether the people at his side were listening or not, he kept rambling. And when he finished, he ran towards the field shouting, “Beautifully done, son! Let them see what you’re made of!”

※※※

Though the beautiful dribble still ended up being destroyed, Gareth Bale’s attack gave an enormous boost of confidence to Forest. The appearance of a mere 16-year-old child could disrupt and unsettle Chelsea. Why couldn’t they?

To be suppressed by the away team to the point that they could not raise their heads or launch the ball forward… Not only did the score get evened out, but they also had an injured teammate. They’d had enough!

If we don’t show you some claws, you’ll still think we, Nottingham Forest, are this easily bullied!

The situation on the field gradually started turning around. From Chelsea having the absolute advantage, it became a more balanced situation. In fact, on occasion, Forest could even suppress Chelsea for a bit.

Even though it was a forced substitution, they had managed to reap unexpected results.

In the managers’ seats, Kerslake said to Tang En, “Do you know what I remembered, watching Bale break through the wings earlier?”

“What?” Tang En asked without turning, his attention on the field.

“I remembered when you brought him to the Youth Team to sign his contract.”

Tang En turned to look at Kerslake.

“I thought it was brilliant. Not the breakthrough that just happened. I’m talking about when you told Bale in Wilford to have confidence and smile. That left me with a deep impression. When I saw him running with the ball earlier, I thought, this kid sure is confident! He was facing Chelsea, Paulo Ferreira, Damien Duff, Tiago, and Carvalho… But he didn’t retreat. He just…” Kerslake motioned forward with his hands. “Just went straight ahead!”

“That’s because you taught him well on the Youth Team, David. I didn’t do anything. A few words of praise are a simple thing to me.”

“But children always see that as the highest reward. It’s their motivation to keep working hard.”

Tang En chuckled.

※※※

“For fairness’ sake… A draw is reasonable for both sides. But…”

“But, neither of these managers would think a draw is reasonable or fair.” Lineker continued, following-up Motson’s words.

“You’re right, Gary. There’s still more to come for this match!” Motson said excitedly.

“I don’t want such an exhilarating match to end in a draw, that would be too bland!”

※※※

The match progressed into its final 10 minutes. The score for both sides remained at 2:2. On the field, the situation continued to be a stalemate. Both sides had opportunities, but neither got a good grasp of them.

Mourinho and Tang En stood at the sidelines and observed the field with stern faces. Mourinho did not dare to underestimate the 16-year-old boy any longer. After entering the field, Bale was extremely active. Though he was somewhat strained dealing with the defense, he received support from the other Forest players. Wood also purposefully leaned towards the wings; while keeping a close eye on Lampard’s movements, he also dabbled in the wing’s defense.

In terms of their offense, Bale was a beneficial supplement to Ribéry; his forward cutting put tremendous defensive pressure on Chelsea on his side of the wings. In comparison to Chimbonda, Gareth Bale excelled even more in assisting. His pass to the center from the left was more accurate than Ribéry’s; whether it was the arc, speed, or height of it, all of it were fantastic.

Looking at the lively Bale, Mourinho suddenly found himself full of envy for Forest’s youth training level. After he had taken over as Chelsea’s manager, Abramovich had poured in large sums of money to establish the Youth Team. He built them the best training facilities, the most modern training grounds, and hired the top Youth Team managers with attractive salaries. He even put massive funds and effort into buying young footballers with potential from all over the world. But none of the players in Chelsea’s Youth Team could be like Forest’s Youth Team, shining with such resplendence during a match.

Dammit!

※※※

Tang En looked down at his watch. There were still five minutes before the match’s injury stoppage time. He had just substituted Viduka with Bendtner to further enhance their offense. He still had a final substitution quota left. He was hesitating to continue his adjustments.

Arteta dribbled the ball, attempting to enter Chelsea’s penalty area, but was tripped by Makelele when he was seven to eight meters away. The main referee then awarded Forest a direct free kick.

As usual, Arteta put the ball he hugged onto the ground; he was intending to take the shot himself.

Off the field, Tang En’s eyes brightened.

As Forest’s core penalty kicker, Arteta would surely have been researched by Mourinho. It was impossible for Čech not to know how Arteta was going to kick. Why don’t I swap out the kicker at the last minute? We’ll catch him unawares!

He brought both hands to his mouth and formed a horn shape, shouting onto the field, “Mikel! Switch with someone!”

Arteta looked back strangely at Tang En. Switch? With who?

“Let Bale do it! Let him kick!”

Bale was surprised to hear Tang En’s words. He had not expected the main manager to directly assign him to take the shot.

Arteta did not express any unhappiness. In training, Bale had trained for set-piece kicks like this with him. He knew of Bale’s capabilities. So, he waved for him to come forward instead and passed the ball with a pat to his shoulder. “You can do it!”

Seeing Bale come forward, Wood ran back and took Bale’s earlier position to substitute for him for the defense.

This was Forest’s hard-earned set piece opportunity in the last stages of the match. Practically everyone moved up for it.

They were 26 meters from the goal, with a slight lean towards the right. Forest had gained an opportunity for a direct free kick.

Bale was the kicker.

The short, chubby man who kept on raving about his son’s genius in the stands stopped. Instead, he anxiously watched his son as the boy bent down to position the ball.

On the sidelines, Mourinho had his head lowered, flipping through his notebook. There was a final line of “PS: Extremely good at free kicks” under Bale’s capabilities.

His brow tightened.

Extremely good. To what extent was he extremely good?

Chelsea arranged for a frontal five-man wall. Forest’s Arteta did not just stand in front of the ball for show; he squeezed into Chelsea’s player wall as well.

Once the ball was positioned, Bale took a step back and stood still. His run-up distance was much closer than Arteta’s. Čech found the opponent before him extremely unfamiliar. He did not have any information on Gareth Bale’s free kick; he did not know what kind of style Bale had gotten into, which corner he preferred, how fast he was, or how powerful his kick was…Čech could only lean on his experience to leap for the ball.

The referee found the retreated distance of Chelsea’s player wall to be insufficient and went forward to request that they move further back. Chelsea’s players all shuffled backward unwillingly.

All of that failed to disrupt Bale. After he had set down the ball, he only stared straight at the opponent’s goal.

The referee jogged away in satisfaction once Chelsea’s player wall moved to the designated distance. The whistle then sounded, indicating for Forest’s player to take the penalty kick.

At the whistle, Bale tapped his left toe on the ground and launched into his run-up. One step, two steps, and shoot!

Just as he was in the Youth Team matches and in training facing a moving player wall, Bale felt he was in good condition the instant he took the shot.

Makelele leaped up, but the ball flew just a hair over his bald head! As it spun, the ball drew a wondrous arc, shooting through the Czech Footballer of the Year, Petr Čech, and his 10 fingers like an arrow!

“What a fantastic goal by Gareth Bale!”