Chapter 145: The Future
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The transfer budget announced by Nottingham Forest the previous summer had been 3.5 million pounds. Of the many players that Collymore had bought at that time, the only ones who could play as the main force were Gunnarsson, Rebrov and Gareth Taylor. And in the winter, the Forest team did not announce what their transfer budget was. The media told readers that Tony Twain's actual investment in the transfer market had already exceeded the summer budget, and that he had mostly bought young players. Therefore, was the 3.6 million spent this time worth the money? The media heavily questioned Twain's actions in the January transfer market. Almost all of the players he had bought were young, and had yet not proved their abilities in the adult teams. What would they bring to the team? Dynamism and healthy competition, or impulsive recklessness and lack of experience?
At the press conference, Tang En told the press and the equally skeptical fans that these players were the future of the Forest team. 3.6 million seemed to be a lot, but they were investing in the future. In a few years' time, 3.6 million would seem miniscule compared with their value.
Basically, the goal of the winter transfer period was to supplement the existing lineup. Tang En was compelled by circumstances to make the bold and decisive adjustments that he did. Considering the stability of the team, Tang En told Evan that he no longer needed him to introduce anyone from the transfer market.
Next, he had to deal with a Premier League team. On January 22nd, the first round of the EFL Cup semi-final would be Nottingham Forest playing against Bolton Wanderers in a home match.
Bolton Wanderers was a special team in English football because they were especially international. Of course, internationalization was nothing new for the English Premier League; the former Chelsea had set a record by not putting any English players in their eleven-player starting lineup for the Premier League. But Bolton Wanderers' internationalization was nothing like Chelsea's.
Bolton Wanderers currently had all kinds of international players on their team: the Brazilian striker Mário Jardel, the Danish striker Henrik Pedersen, the Nigerian midfielder Jay-Jay Okocha, the French midfielder Ibrahim Ba, the French midfielder Youri Djorkaeff, the Greek midfielder Stelios Giannakopoulos, the Danish defensive midfielder Per Frandsen, the French full back Bruno N'Gotty, and the Spanish full back Iván Campo.
These players were all famous, and the youngest among the international players was the substitute striker, twenty-eight-year-old Henrik Pedersen. The oldest was thirty-five-year-old Djorkaeff, who had formerly been the main midfielder for the world champion French national football team. Most of these men were star players who were already past their prime, unable to play on their original teams, and were therefore transferred to Bolton Wanderers. In addition, Kevin Davies, the team's main striker, was only twenty-six years old, but because he was burdened with premature fame and displaced from Southampton, he joined Bolton Wanderers on a free transfer.
This was a very interesting phenomenon. In the English Premier League, very few clubs would be keen to choose veteran players who were past their prime to become the teams' main forces. The values of these players were not high, but their salary requirements were. They still had their reputations, but they were not as strong as they had been. It stood to reason that with its English Premier League team qualification, even though Bolton Wanderers had little money to purchase foreign superstar players, it would not be a problem at all for the team to still buy outstanding domestic players.
There was an historical origin to this and it was largely related to Manchester United. In 1958, after the Munich air disaster, the Golden Age Manchester United team was nearly dismantled. Sir Matt Busby, who had escaped with his life, regrouped the team and continued to play in matches with the Manchester United Youth and Second Team players. After Manchester United's misfortune, the team's struggles aroused the sympathy and admiration of the entire football world; throughout football's entire history, football has always been seen by English people as a sport for the brave. Even if a player's leg was broken, he would still insist on finishing the game before going to the hospital. Therefore, the fighting spirit demonstrated by Manchester United won everyone's respect. Three months after the plane crash, Manchester United and Bolton Wanderers both advanced to the FA Cup final. In that match, Manchester United with its heavy casualties not only lost to Bolton Wanderers, but also suffered unacceptable humiliation from the Bolton Wanderers' fans.
They did something completely outrageous during the match: nearly a thousand Bolton Wanderers fans waved their hands and made a humming drone sound. The action was meant to mimic a the sound of a plane falling and crashing, and was done to humiliate Manchester United. Their lack of basic compassion led to the isolation of the Bolton Wanderers, and more sympathy for Manchester United.
Since then, Manchester United and Bolton Wanderers have become irreconcilable arch-enemies. And Bolton Wanderers had gone back and forth between the Premier League and League One for nearly a decade. It was said that one of the reasons was that the teams in England's northwest region tried hardest when playing against Bolton Wanderers. Furthermore, Bolton Wanderers also had a hard time buying good players in England, so they had to look to the international market to seek out those veteran players who were past their prime to help the team avoid relegation.
It was awful that the team had to pay for the sin of its fans. But this was part of English football tradition, where the clubs and fans were inseparable. The fans fanatically followed the team, and the team would never abandon their supporters.
Of course, Tang En had no intention of using the past to motivate his team to defeat Bolton Wanderers. The Forest team had nothing to do with Manchester United, not to mention that Manchester United had previously thrashed the Forest team in a Premier League away match with a final score of 8:1. The relationship between the two teams was not a close one. On the other hand, the Forest team had a closer relationship with Manchester United's deadly rival, Arsenal—because Arsenal was built by men from the Forest team.
Tang En could not care less about the enmity between Manchester United and Bolton Wanderers, but it did give him an opportunity to take advantage of it. Bolton Wanderers had not been able to buy players with high caliber, so although the team was in the Premier League, it was relatively weak. Most of the players on the team were older. Even though they were experienced, their physical strength was much less than that of the young Forest team.
Due to many successive battles, the Bolton Wanderers team had sustained lots of injuries. Their main striker, Kevin Davies, for example, was injured in the last game against Portsmouth. If he wanted to play in the EFL Cup semi-final, he would have to play while still injured, and his strength would take a massive hit.
Their other striker, the Brazilian Jardel, seemed to have been born in the wrong place. At six feet, two inches, he should not have been Brazil, but rather in any European country. The roughness of his technique was the most important reason that he was left out of the big clubs. Although he had not scored at all during his first seven games for Bolton Wanderers and thus was benched by the club, his height and header were still no small threat to Tang En. No one could say when a player like him would suddenly erupt and counterattack. Just a day after the last round of the English Premier League match, a piece of welcome news came from the transfer market: the twenty-nine-year-old Brazilian striker had been loaned to A.C. Ancona on its final tour in Serie A to help the team avoid relegation. Tang En heaved a sigh of relief at his departure. If that towering player had appeared in the EFL Cup semi-final, his impact would have been a severe test of the new Forest team's defenders.
As for Djorkaeff, he was turning thirty-six years old in about a month. He could only play as a substitute on the team, and his opportunities for an appearance were lessening. Although his experience was still intact, his body was losing its vigor.
One of the biggest threats on the team was the Nigerian Okocha, who was excellent at dribbling and capable in assists. He was now the core of Bolton Wanderers' midfield and the initiator of the team's offense.
If the English Football League Championship hadn't happened, Tang En might have been worried about defending against Okocha. But now, he knew what to do.
George Wood's defensive stance was still problematic; there was no way around it, other than compensating through continuous competition and accumulation of experience. However, his ability to focus on one-on-one marking had reached its pinnacle. Okocha would find his opponents harder to deal with than he had anticipated.
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On the morning of January 22nd, although the atmosphere in the city was charged with the anticipation of battle, the weather remained uncommonly calm. Tang En got up early and went to the Forest training ground.
According to the regulation of the team, the players on the main list must arrive at Wilford in the morning before every home game, take the team bus to a hotel close to the stadium to eat and rest in the afternoon, then take the bus to the stadium again for the match.
Tang En liked to arrive earlier than everyone else before the home game and chat with Eastwood, who was warming up with his horseback riding in the empty training ground. This was a rare moment of relaxation before the game. Once the team was assembled, Tang En and Walker would be secluded in a hotel room to study their opponents.
"Good morning, sir." Eastwood greeted Tang En loudly as he rode up to him on his horse.
Every time he saw this young man, Tang En could not help but smile. Eastwood was such a cheerful and optimistic person that his optimism was contagious.
"Good morning, Freddy. How are you feeling today?" He looked up at the Romani Gypsy.
Eastwood jumped down from his horse. "Very good, sir. I feel like I'm gonna score some goals today."
Tang En laughed. Eastwood had scored consistently since he joined the team in early January, scoring three goals in two games, which perfectly proved his ability. There were no longer any criticisms or doubts about him, whether they be in the newspapers, on television, or on the radio.
When you succeed, everyone will shut up, Tang En thought.
Looking at Eastwood, Tang En nodded. "Very well, Freddy. You can start in the game today. You actually might have a new partner by then."
"That telephone pole?" Eastwood was referring to Crouch by the nickname he had given to his new teammate. Crouch quickly accepted the nickname because everyone in the team used it. With his tall, lanky build, the nickname suited him well.
But Tang En had discovered an issue. It seemed that taller players like Robert Huth and Crouch were naturally more wooden or straightforward. Although Crouch was not wooden, he was straightforward. He also had a nice temperament. He was not upset by Eastwood's new nickname for him, and was happy when everyone else called him that too. This was because Walker had told him that if players assign their teammates a nickname, that means that they have accepted them.
"Well, but I don't know when he will be on the field," Tang En said, shaking his head. Who could say clearly how the game was going to go? If football games depended only upon words, ideas, following tactics, and taking turns to rehearse so that the outcome would be predetermined, then it would not be so popular.
The suspense of not knowing what the future held was the most thrilling part.
"Another thing, Freddy. It seems you and George's relationship isn't very good." They would be frequently working together on the field in the future. If their relationship was not managed well, it might drag down the team. This was not what Tang En wanted to see. Even a stronger team could fall apart due to locker room issues. He had to nip it in the bud while he still could.
Once Tang En brought it up, Eastwood fell silent for a moment. Even optimistic and cheerful people often have a reluctance to mention the past. Originally, he had had a promising future at West Ham United. And if he had continued on that path, he might even have been playing for the First Team at West Ham United by now. But his injury ended everything. He was laid off by the West Ham youth team and could not find any team willing to accept him even after his injury had healed. Eventually, he ended up playing in the amateur league. Training time for amateur games was almost never guaranteed, and was far worse than the training he had received at West Ham United. When he was not training, he was a salesman at his father's used car dealership.
Sometimes, when he was idle, he would look into the distance in a daze. Would he have to live this way for the rest of his life? He would wait till his father was old before taking over the car dealership; he would sell used cars, raise several children with his wife, and then send them to play football when they grow up. Then he would go down to the club every day to pick them up and watch his sons live out his own dreams...
Was that his future?
And who was responsible for all of that? George Wood, who always looked at others with menace in his eyes.
They may be on the same team now, but that did not mean that they had to be friendly.
Tang En saw that Eastwood did not speak, and he knew he must be thinking of the past. So, he suddenly asked, "Gypsies are descendants of Indians, right?"
This question was a big jump from the previous one. It stumped Eastwood for a moment before he nodded and said, "Yes, that's what everyone says."
"So do you believe in Buddhism, then?"
Eastwood shook his head. "No, I'm not religious."
Tang En was a little surprised. He thought that nomadic ethnic groups always believed in some kind of religion, like Christianity. But he had to continue on the topic, so he said, "There is a word in Buddhism: 'Karma.' Do you know what it means?"
The word could be easily comprehended from its meaning, "cause and effect," so Eastwood nodded. But soon, he shook his head again.
"Well, simply put, it's the idea that... Everything in this world is connected. It may seem unrelated, but there's a link. If... If you had not been injured at that time, do you know where you'd be and what kind of life you would be living right now?"
The question made Eastwood think for a moment, then he shook his head and said, "I don't know. That didn't happen."
"Well, we can still use common sense and hypothetically say that if there was no accident, you would have been transferred from the West Ham youth team to the First Team, and then you would have represented the team in the League Championship this season, and we would have been opponents." Tang En pointed at Eastwood, and then to himself. "But you're right, that didn't happen. We're in a team now, I've signed you on and you're scoring goals to prove that I made the right choice. Why do you think we're able to have this nice chat instead of spitting at each other before the game?"
"Because... of that injury?" Eastwood said.
Tang En nodded. "George's foul, that was definitely wrong of him. But he didn't mean it. He'd been playing football for less than three months. I wanted him to play the striker position at the time, but he was completely overwhelmed on the field. He was nervous, and his mind went blank. And when he saw you running past him with the ball..." There was no point in saying what happened next. Eastwood could still feel the pain in his right leg whenever he recalled the incident.
"I'm not trying to explain anything on his behalf, because that's ultimately his responsibility. That was an unscrupulous foul, and it almost ruined your future. What I do want to say may not make you happy, but I have to tell you... Freddy, sometimes I think, 'I should thank George. If it wasn't for his foul, how could I have a striker as good as Freddy Eastwood?' Maybe, in that alternate future, I'd hit the roof on the sidelines because you breached my team's goal. Or maybe you'd knock my team out of an important game make me fail, and then maybe I'd be dismissed and continue to be a youth coach, or work God knows where else... just like the future you imagined for yourself. But now it's alright, those things never happened. They only exist in another future. And you," Tang En pointed at Eastwood and said. "Freddy Eastwood now wears the Forest team's red jersey and has scored three goals in two consecutive games. You live on the training ground in Wilford, joke with my players, and come to training in a good mood every single day. You bring me victory by scoring goals in matches, and even your horse has become the darling of this city... This is your present. As for your future? You're going to be the greatest striker in the history of this team. You're going to score a ton of goals, you're going to bring me and the Forest fans one trophy after another, and the City Ground stands will go crazy for you countless times. And then, when you decide to retire..."
Tang En looked up at the multicolored glow of the sunrise in the eastern sky, took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, shook his head, and said, "I can't imagine what it will be like."
After hearing Twain say so much without stopping, Eastwood did not utter a word. His hands were just unconsciously stroking his horse's neck.
"If you were not hurt, maybe you'd still be at West Ham United, or maybe you'd go to another lower-level team, and then you'd eliminate Manchester United in some match, and you'd score the winning goal. You'd become a celebrity in England within a week, appear on television and in the newspapers. Then you'd be forgotten while you still played on that team until you retired in obscurity. That goal with which you eliminated Manchester United would be the most glorious moment of your career," Tang En continued. This was a different future from what Eastwood had imagined. He had never thought of a future like that. But Tang En knew that that was the future he was supposed to have if he'd kept going.
"It's different now. You don't have to worry about that future. Because you've joined Nottingham Forest. You've joined my team, and you will join me in becoming the second most brilliant creator of the Forest team." Tang En spread his arms to embrace the Wilford training ground.
"I'll became a legendary manager and you'll became a legendary striker. We'll be mentioned all the time, all the way until we're old. People will say, 'Eastwood is the greatest striker in the history of the Forest team, how could anyone compare that clumsy little kid to him! Tony Twain's most successful deal in his career was buying Freddy from an amateur team! Look at all those prizes in his trophy room!'"
Tang En imitated the tone of the fans' discussion, and Eastwood was amused by the manner in which he spoke. He was so serious in his description of that imaginary future that Eastwood did not know if it was true or false. Perhaps he was spinning a story, perhaps... could it really be realized?
"So, I have to say, Freddy... I am very grateful to you for accepting the invitation from Nottingham Forest to join the team. I'm also thankful to God, even though I've never believed in him. It's fate that's let us stand together now to discuss each other's future. Do you doubt our future?"
Freddy shook his head. "I don't know, sir… Everything you're saying is so crazy that I really don't know if it's true..."
"Yes, it's crazy." Tang En thought of the lunch that day with Evan and Allan and how he was shaken to the core when they told him about the plan. "But to prove that I'm not lying, to prove that I can see the future, Freddy, we will win this afternoon. Because this game is the starting point for that future."
Afterwards, Tang En waved good-bye to him. "See you later, Freddy. Go back and have breakfast."
Eastwood looked at the back of Twain's confident figure and opened his mouth, but said nothing.
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