Football Coaching Game: Starting With SSS-Rank Player

Chapter 132: 3-2-5


"The lucky goal is irrelevant," she said, her eyes boring into her players.

"It was a fluke. A one-in-a-million mistake. It doesn't matter. What matters is that for the twenty minutes before that, we were chasing shadows. We were disorganized. We let them play. That will not happen in the second half. We go back to basics. We are compact. We are disciplined. And we give their little magician, Demir, absolutely no space. We suffocate them. We wait for our chance. And we will be clinical. Now get your heads up. We are better than them, and in the next forty-five minutes, we are going to prove it."

Across the corridor, the Apex dressing room was a scene of giddy, disbelieving joy.

"I still can't believe he did that," Jonathan Rowe was saying, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Their keeper just... dribbled it into his own net! I think my brain is broken!"

"It was a tactical press!" David Kerrigan insisted, puffing out his chest.

"I applied so much psychological pressure, his motor functions simply ceased to operate. It was a goal born of pure, unadulterated fear."

Ethan let them laugh, letting the joyous, chaotic energy fill the room.

He had thrown a tactical nuclear bomb at the most organized team in the league, and the result was a beautiful, glorious mess.

But he knew Maya.

She wouldn't be laughing. She would be adapting.

"Alright, you lunatics, listen up!" he called out, and the room quieted, all eyes turning to him. "That was... fun. The 'Apex Avalanche' worked. It broke their brains. But it's a one-trick pony. Maya is too smart. She'll be ready for it in the second half. She'll sit deep, she'll be patient, and she'll wait to hit us on the counter."

He brought up the tactical display.

"So, we are going to do something even weirder. We're evolving."

He started to move the player icons around into a new, strange, asymmetrical shape.

"I call this the 'Shifting Shield'. On paper, it's a 4-3-3. But in reality, it's fluid. When we have the ball," he explained, his voice buzzing with a new, brilliant idea, "our left-back, Giannoulis, is going to push up and become a winger. Our left-winger, Kerrigan, will drift inside and become a second striker. Our defensive midfielder, Sørensen, will drop back between the two center-backs, forming a back three. We'll be attacking with a 3-2-5, the same overwhelming numbers as before, but from a more controlled, structured base."

The players stared at the board, their minds trying to process the complex, fluid movements.

"But," Ethan continued, a sharp glint in his eye, "the second we lose the ball, we snap back. The wingers drop, the full-backs tuck in, and we become a solid, compact 4-5-1. We have all the attacking chaos of the first half, but with the defensive solidity of a team that actually knows how to defend. It's the best of both worlds. It's unpredictable. It's us."

A slow, appreciative murmur went through the room. It was insane. And it was genius.

The teams walked out for the second half, and the change was immediately apparent.

"Well, this is interesting," Tactics Tim's voice on the live stream crackled with analytical glee. "Apex United appear to have lined up in a standard 4-3-3. A much more sensible approach from Ethan Couch after the beautiful madness of the first half."

"Sensible? The lad doesn't know the meaning of the word," Gary 'The Gaffer' Stone grumbled beside him.

"He's probably got his goalkeeper playing as a striker. It's all just youthful nonsense."

The game restarted. Apex got the ball. And the 'Shifting Shield' engaged. Giannoulis, the left-back, bombed forward. Kerrigan drifted inside. The formation morphed, a beautiful, fluid transformation.

"Wait a minute... what on earth is this?!" Tactics Tim exclaimed, his voice rising with excitement. "It's a hybrid! It's a 3-2-5 in attack! Giannoulis is playing as a left-winger! This is a tactical masterclass! Gary, are you seeing this?"

"I'm seeing a left-back who's not in his position," Gary retorted. "It's a defensive liability, is what it is. All well and good having these fancy shapes, but at the end of the day, it relies on every single player being perfectly disciplined. One mistake in that defensive transition, and they're wide open."

For the next ten minutes, the tactic worked to perfection.

Apex dominated the ball, their fluid, unpredictable movement completely confusing the Nova players.

Maya stood on the sideline, a furious, frustrated frown on her face, trying to figure out how to counter a formation that changed every thirty seconds.

Then, in the 69th minute, Gary 'The Gaffer' Stone was proven right.

Apex was in the middle of a beautiful, flowing attacking move.

Giannoulis was high up the pitch, a key part of the attack. But a clever interception from Gavi, the S-Rank Maestro, turned the tide in an instant.

The transition was supposed to be perfect. Sørensen was supposed to drop back.

But for a split second, he was a fraction too slow, caught in no-man's-land between midfield and defense.

Gavi saw it. He looked up and, with a single, devastating, defense-splitting pass, he played the ball into the vast, green, and completely empty space where the Apex left-back was supposed to be.

The Nova winger was onto it in a flash. He was one-on-one with the last defender. He cut inside, leaving the defender for dead, and calmly, coolly, slotted the ball into the bottom corner.

2-2.

It was a goal of ruthless, clinical, and tactical perfection. A punishment for a single, tiny mistake.

"AND NOVA ATHLETIC ARE LEVEL!" the commentator roared. "A defensive mistake from the 'Shifting Shield', a moment of pure, unadulterated genius from the Maestro, Gavi, and we are all square! You were just saying, Gary?"

"Told you so," Gary Stone's voice was a low, smug grumble. "Fancy tactics are all well and good. But a left-back belongs in the left-back position. End of story."

Ethan stood on the sideline, a feeling of cold, dawning horror washing over him.

His brilliant, complex, beautiful plan had just been undone.

The game was on a knife-edge.

And he had just shown his brilliant, tactical rival exactly how to beat him.

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