Chapter 599: Desire to Win

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

Mourinho stood on the sidelines in the cold rain with the collar of his black windbreaker turned up. The rain drenched his coat gradually. Twain sat in the technical area while Mourinho stood in the rain like a statue, not caring of the cold rain from above.

The score was 0:0.

By virtue of its home advantage, Nottingham Forest launched a quick attack and raid as soon as they got on the field, but they were met with tenacious resistance by Chelsea’s defense. Terry, the captain of the England national team, led the line of defense that was by no means lacking in drive. Just because Beşiktaş could be slaughtered eight goals did not imply that any opponent would concede eight goals.

After six or seven minutes of offense, the Forest team still could not crack open Chelsea’s defense. They gradually slowed down and systematically withdrew their defense to lure Chelsea to attack, so as to give the Forest team the space to fight back.

That was the Forest team’s style. Their defensive counterattack was famous in the European football world. If Nottingham Forest were to be studied, then defensive counterattack was a subject that could not be ignored.

How could Mourinho not study this opponent as someone who has dealt with Twain for more than three years and not won? He knew that the Forest team’s retreat was nothing more than a ruse. Their real killer move was hidden in the show of weakness. If they rashly pressed on, they would be countered by the other team. But if they did not press up, the score would not change, and they would lose their chance to attack…

It was a challenge that bothered a lot of managers who played against the Forest team. Most people would choose to attack and seek a chance for a breakthrough, even though they knew that this might give the Forest team the space to fight back.

Mourinho was different. He did not let his team press ahead, but dawdled in the midfield. No matter how the Nottingham Forest team tried to lure them, their own rear defensive line did not press on. Ashley Cole would immediately return even when he assisted in an attack and never stayed in front for too long.

“Oh, God… Not again!” The television commentator groaned helplessly. Mourinho had never been famous for pleasing spectators with offensive football. He was a “champion manager” who acquired his international renown by taking down one championship after another. Accordingly, his Chelsea team always put results first. Defensive football and “1:0 doctrine” were Mourinho’s trademarks, and Capello was his idol.

That was also part of the contradiction between Abramovich and Mourinho. As a football fan, Abramovich hoped to see beautiful offense and offensive football. But Mourinho, as a “results greater than everything” manager, valued results more and defense was undoubtedly the safest way to bring victory.

It was a clash of two football ideals, and the most irreconcilable conflict.

Abramovich believed Chelsea should be like the world-renowned football clubs such as Real Madrid, AC Milan, Inter Milan, Barcelona, Manchester United, and Arsenal. He wanted children around the world to play in the blue Chelsea jerseys instead of white Real Madrid jerseys or red and black AC Milan jerseys. He thought it was not enough to win titles; Chelsea lacked a superstar player with international appeal, and a lack of beautiful football was the root cause of that. Mourinho was not interested in Abramovich’s kind of football. He did not like superstar players, because the arrival of a superstar player would threaten his authority and position within the team. He did not even like Abramovich to dictate the affairs of the team, because he sensed that his power was under threat.

Mourinho thought the team should play according to his will. He was the chief manager responsible and even the club chairman could not put his hand in the team. He did not dislike Abramovich’s “Chelsea Empire Plan,” but he believed that Chelsea had a long way to go before they could become a world-renowned football club. They needed to have real results to build the foundation. That type of foundation would not be beautiful. It would be rough, but solid. Once the foundation was laid well, the rest could be built beautifully.

Abramovich could not wait for that day. Therefore, he bought Shevchenko and Ballack in spite of Mourinho’s objections, and talked about Ronaldinho and Kaka all day long. He found it intolerable when he found the waiters at a hotel he stayed at talking about the Manchester United player, Cristiano Ronaldo, who had just stayed there. And what about himself? Only a few people humored him all day long.

He could not bear the situation and desperately wanted to change all of it, but Mourinho would never cooperate.

Shevchenko was still on the bench, and Ballack was not on the main list at all. Mourinho’s claim before the game was that Ballack had been injured was fake. Just over ten days ago, Ballack played on behalf of the Germany national team in the UEFA European Championship qualifier. He performed actively and vigorously and did not appear to be injured at all.

Why had Shevchenko not started? Mourinho was tired of the question and refused to answer. It was rumored that Shevchenko was also injured, but no one bought it.

Now, watching Mourinho’s team tarrying with the opponent in the midfield and slowly going back and forth, any actual substantive offense was woefully little. Sitting in the VIP box, Abramovich’s face gradually turned ugly.

※※※

Twain did not expect Mourinho to be so tough. He made it clear that he was slogging it out in the midfield with himself. The midfield of both teams was not weak. No one could completely suppress each other, and each had its own strengths and weaknesses. The consequence was that no one could rule the game, and every second of the game was consumed in a standoff.

Such a game lacked a quick and intense attack. No star player performed any of their amazing skills. The speed advantage that the Forest team was good at could not play out and Chelsea’s Drogba did not have ample scope to unleash his power. A game without highlights was worthless to the spectators.

“The game is so dull. Both sides want to win, but are unable to let go of their movements… They are repeatedly entangled in the midfield and lacked penetrating passes. The defensive organizations of both teams are excellent, and too many straight passes will only invite mistakes. As a result, both Nottingham Forest and Chelsea seem to be very cautious. The constant cross passes and back passes have cost the game its watchability. Let’s compare it with the game between Arsenal and Manchester United that just ended. That kind of intensity cannot be compared with this game at all. Looks like the showdown between the old enemies is still better than the new competition.”

The commentator was right, except for the psychological analysis of the managers of the two teams.

Arsenal’s game against Manchester United was a clash that left both sides shattered.

Before the end of the first half, the Arsenal captain and French center-back, William Gallas, accidentally touched the football into his own goal. Manchester United relied on the own goal in the away game to lead for the time being. Two minutes in the second half, Arsenal’s midfield core, Fàbregas used a long shot to equalize the score.

The two teams launched a fierce attack on each other. The conversion between offense and defense was swift and star players showed off their skills one after another, and the spectators shouted in satisfaction. The second climax of the game came in the last ten minutes. In the 81st minute, the Manchester United winger, Cristiano Ronaldo, now more mature and in good form this season, scored a goal for the team to help Manchester United lead by 2:1.

Just as everyone thought Manchester United would return from the Emirates Stadium with three points to annoy Wenger, in the 90th minute, the Arsenal captain, William Gallas, who had scored the own goal just forty-five minutes ago and got the team into trouble, redeemed himself. He received a corner kick from Arsenal and headed the ball to score the equalizer for the team. When he rallied, the Emirates Stadium roared with cheers. The curtains for the game were drawn to a close at its climax, and the score was fixed at 2:2.

There were four goals in the game, an own goal, a sin and the self-redemption of the sinner, and the drama of never giving up until an equalizer at the last minute. It was difficult for anyone to forget such a game. By comparison, this game, which was also played in the rain, was inferior.

The dark sky seemed to be the portrayal of the game so far: the dark and gloomy performance, the uninteresting attacks, and the frequent passing errors. If anyone liked to watch big star players fall and roll in the dirty mud, they would be satisfied. But unfortunately, there were not many people who had that kind of mentality.

If it were a Barcelona or Real Madrid game, hisses would certainly ring out from the stands for playing like that, no matter which home ground it was. However, the fans of both teams worshipped their managers, so even if the game was dull, the sound of their cheers was undiminished.

As long as they could beat the other team, they did not care about the course of the game. Of course, if it was relied on the other team’s own goal to beat each other, it would be more exciting!

※※※

“I don’t think we need to go on being tangled with them in the midfield.” Dunn said to Twain. “Maybe you can try using a direct long pass to the back?”

Twain stroked his chin and watched for a moment before he said, “there may be a way for what you said.” He got up and walk to the sidelines to convey the message to the team.

Chelsea was clearly trying to mess up the Forest’s plan to fight back through a melee in the midfield with the Forest team. It was a reasonable idea to get around the midfield. If they put too much effort into the midfield, there was little benefit to the Forest team.

He signaled with his hand to the team for a long pass.

It was an adjustment that Twain was uncertain would work. He did it anyway but did not get the results he wanted.

While the Forest team wanted to bypass the midfield to hit the opponent directly, it resulted in more errors on the team instead. Van Nistelrooy lacked support in the front on his own and the strength of the midfield weakened when his teammates came up to support.

Chelsea seized the opportunity to intercept the ball and launch a quick attack. Lampard took George Wood away, Drogba attracted the attention of Ayala and Kompany, and the Forest team defended against all the Chelsea players they thought of as dangerous. However, they did not pay attention to one of them, because that player was really of no threat when it came to offense.

However, it was that player who received a long pass from Essien, and suddenly swung his leg to do a long shot in the midfield! A long shot that was thirty meters away from the goal, and bypassed the crowd, to penetrate the goal guarded by Edwin van der Sar!

The commentator screamed, “a brilliant goal! Makelele beat Edwin van der Sar!”

Yes, the man who scored was Makelele, the most unlikely defensive midfielder to score.

Twain was startled by the scene. He asked the players to pay close attention to several of Chelsea’s offensive points before the game and completely freeze these dangerous elements at all costs. He mentioned the names of many players, even Shevchenko, who did not play. But he did not name Makelele as he believed that Makelele would not be the player to deal the final blow in the attack to solve the problem.

But he was wrong.

“A world-class ball!” The commentator was still excited. Other than the strong contrast it brought about as compared to the dullness of the game before, it was because this goal entered beautifully. It was really worthy to be rated as a “world-class ball.”

The football flew from the midfield, thirty meters away, to the goal. When the 1.97-meter van der Sar leapt and stretched his arms as far as possible, he still could not protect the goal behind him. The football brushed his fingertips and flew into the goal.

The whole process left people speechless… Of course, only one person was the exception.

“Damn it! Let him do it again… a hundred more times, and he still can’t shoot a goal in like that!” Twain growled angrily on the sidelines, though his voice was quickly drowned out amid the Chelsea fans’ roars.

Twain did not admit that his tactical arrangements were wrong. He just thought he had lost to luck. Makelele was divinely possessed and shot what might have been the most beautiful goal of his career.

“Just like how George Wood scored the goal against Chelsea in the semi-final of the Champions League! This goal is a classic! Both goals came from usually the most unlikely defensive midfielder to score a goal, both were beautiful! Because of George Wood’s outstanding performance, Chelsea was eliminated in the semi-final of the Champions League! Now, the Chelsea players are back for revenge!”

Mourinho excitedly waved his fists from the sidelines. Every move he took made his coat flutter up, and rain droplets splattered everywhere. If anyone could see his expression, the ywould be surprised that he was not laughing, but gnashing his teeth.

The television live broadcast suitably cut to a shot of the VIP box. In the City Ground stadium’s humble box, the Chelsea club chairman, Abramovich danced and gesticulated joyfully to celebrate the goal. In the face of such a beautiful goal, a smile appeared on his cold-as-Siberia face.

What if this shot was not a “world-class ball?” He probably would not even get up.

Judging from that camera shot alone, there might not be a contradiction between Mourinho and Abramovich… But after he celebrated the goal, Abramovich clapped and sat down again. His face transformed back into “Siberia” again.

The celebration of the goal did not change his view of Mourinho in any way.

Besides, even if Mourinho could lead the team to play such a beautiful offensive football as Arsenal, it would not be able to change his and Abramovich’s characters. With the inevitable clash of personalities, one out of the two was bound to leave.

Mourinho was well aware of this. After his frantic celebration of the goal, he resumed his “black obsidian sculpture” posture and stuck his hands in his pants’ pockets as he stood in the rain and watched the game with a cold expression.

Even if he won this game, it was irrelevant as to whether he would stay at Chelsea. Since it was irrelevant, then it was completely unnecessary to linger on the questions in his mind. His desire to win this game had nothing to do with the hope of staying at Chelsea, but because his opponent was Tony Twain, whom he had never defeated. He wanted to win, and it was as simple as that.

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