Chapter 152: Backfired Part 1
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The second half of the match had just begun, and it was as Tang En had said: the Bolton Wanderers launched a fierce offense against the Forest team's goal and seemed poised to take the lead again. If Tang En had allowed his team to counterattack the Bolton Wanderers now, there would have to be something wrong with his head.
As a football fan, Tang En had enjoyed watching both sides attack each other with each team alternatively scoring goals one after another. But since he had become a manager, that interest was snuffed out. The only true way to win a football match was defense. A game was like a pyramid; the offense was the most dazzling and eye-catching peak, and the defense was the base and the foundation. If there was no solid foundation, then offense would only a castle floating in the sky. A beautiful offense must be built on a solid defensive foundation. That was the truth of football.
Without Gunnarsson, Rebrov was asked to defend as well. But the most pressure was on George Wood.
Kevin Nolan and Jay-Jay Okocha battered Wood's defensive zone one after another, and Rebrov's ability to help with defense was limited. A game like this was a good opportunity to toughen him up. Tang En stood on the sidelines with his arms crossed and did nothing as he watched Wood, who had his hands full. He believed in Wood. The kid's defensive talent would not disappoint him.
In the future that Tang En had envisioned for Wood, what kind of defensive midfielder would George Wood be in his prime? He might not become the sort of midfielder who was good at attacking and defending like Roy Keane and Patrick Vieira, and he also might not be the type of midfielder with outstanding scoring ability like Steven Gerrard and Frank Lampard. But he could still be the best defensive midfielder in the world. By then, even if Tang En arranged for three attacking midfielders out of the four midfielders, plus two fullbacks to assist, George Wood would still have the ability to firmly hold the Forest defensive zone in a deadlock, as if it were heavily chained... No, it would be a wall, an incomparably tall and sturdy city wall.
But he couldn't know how far away that future was.
Currently, Wood was still very inexperienced; he could not fully cover the defensive zone, and maintaining his stability was still an issue. This championship season still had a long way to go, and his professional career was also very long. How could he be expected to repeat that breathtaking performance from the previous match in every game? It was impossible. Better to take it slow.
In the midst of his busyness, Wood made a mistake and failed to see the agile Okocha. The Nigerian nimbly swung past Wood, and appeared in front of the penalty area!
A loud hiss rang out from the stands. The Forest fans hoped to put psychological pressure on the Nigerian.
"Damn it!" Walker cursed beside Twain. He felt that Twain should not have taken Gunnarsson off at the start of the second half. At the very least, he should have waited for the opponent's wave of attacks to be over before the substitution... But what was the use of saying that now?
"Okocha broke through George Wood! If the Nigerian is allowed into the penalty area, Nottingham Forest will be in danger!" Gray finished speaking when Okocha fell just outside the penalty area.
The referee's whistle sounded, and it was a foul.
This time, the man who had saved the Forest team was not George Wood, but Freddy Eastwood, who had returned to defend the front of the penalty area. He had pushed Okocha over from the side. He was given a yellow card, but he had helped the Forest team resolve a major crisis. The yellow card was worth it.
Walker let out a long-held breath. Tang En looked back at him and laughed. "What are you so nervous about, Des? We're not going to lose. Don't you believe me? Our future is bright."
Eastwood accepted the yellow card, then ran back to the front to wait for the chance to counterattack. Wood turned to look at him; he had helped him.
In contrast to Tang En's ease, Mr. Allardyce was furious about the foul, not only because Eastwood had toppled Okocha and prevented the Bolton Wanderers from a good offense, but also because the referee had only given him a yellow card. He thought that a red card would not have been an overreaction.
Naturally, a manager would always want the penalty to give the advantage to his team.
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Eastwood's foul was a watershed moment in the circumstances of the game. Bolton Wanderers' offense gradually weakened, while the Forest team, like a compressed spring, rebounded strongly as soon as the Bolton Wanderers loosened their grip.
Tang En stood on the sidelines and seemed almost relaxed as the Forest team's offense increased. There were three consecutive shots at the goal within five minutes! He was not anxious, but Mr. Allardyce, in the next technical area, became impatient. He walked up and down between the sidelines and the technical area with a dark, almost frightening expression on his face.
Mr. Allardyce, Tang En thought. Do you have any more moves left? If not, then I won't hold back now... Tang En turned back to the technical area and looked towards Walker. Walker knew that he was going to ask him for the time. Twain had a watch, but he never looked at it. The game time was displayed on the big screen, but he never looked at it either.
"Ten minutes have passed." Walker answered.
Tang En nodded and went back to the sidelines. He shouted Rebrov's name and asked him to move his position forward slightly.
The Forest team, like a compressed barbed spring, was going to fight back.
Tang En believed that once both his wings soared, the Bolton Wanderers would not be able to stop them. Just look at the tall man in Forest's penalty area! If they used two players to guard Crouch, then Eastwood would have more freedom. And if they brought in their fullback to fill the gap to defend it, the space in the wing would be free.
Now, all Tang En had to do was wait on the sidelines for a goal.
He hoped he wouldn't have to wait for long…
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Seventeen minutes had passed in the second half, and the Forest team had the upper hand. They pressed on the Bolton Wanderers with their offense coming in like the tide. Fat John jumped and yelled in the stands, "That's right! That's right! This is how the home team should be playing!"
There were a lot of people who shared his views. The tired and feeble Forest team in the first half greatly had depressed these people. So what if they were playing a Premier League team? As far as the ambitious Forest fans were concerned, any opponents in their way would be beaten.
The Forest team was not even frightened of Liverpool, who had once dominated English and European football in the past.
Brian Clough's team had had such a diehard temperament that they were not even afraid of their strong opponents. Instead, they would only be more motivated. Now, if Tony Twain wanted to achieve the same success as Clough, his team would have to be the same as that Forest team: whether it was against a Premier League team or a big European club, they had to be fearless.
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When Nolan saw George Wood's ferocious interception, he suddenly had an idea. Since the Forest team's only defensive midfielder position is occupied by that stupid boy alone, why not lure him out, and then launch a counterattack to remove the obstacle?
Kevin Nolan marveled at his own ingenuity in finding an effective tactic in such a complicated situation on the field. Taking advantage of a dead ball opportunity, he called Okocha and Giannakopoulos over to tell them about his tactic. They all thought it was feasible. Okocha also detested Wood. It would be really perfect if they could lure him out of the defensive zone.
Therefore, the three men put their heads together and, after a simple discussion, they separated and waited to execute their plan.
Allardyce had always wanted Nolan, the young player, to become Bolton Wanderers' future commander of the midfield. Consequently, he exhorted him during training to use his brain to play. Now, Nolan felt that he already knew how to use his brain to play, because he could set up specific tactics based on actual circumstances during the game.
His heart was filled with a sense of accomplishment, excitedly looking forward to the following scene:
Starting from Okocha, Wood would be slowly drawn out and progressively kept away from the defensive zone. Then, through continuous back-and-forth passing, they would completely pull him apart, and swiftly pass the ball to Okocha to launch a counterattack. After that, they just had for the cheers to come from the south stand. He, Kevin Nolan, would be extolled in the media for personally engineering the strategy, and the birth of another commander of the midfield would be proclaimed! It really was so exciting to think about!
Okocha received Nolan's pass; his back was facing the attack direction. As expected, Wood rushed up. Okocha looked up and saw Nolan's signal to him. It was time for action.
]He used all his efforts to protect the ball and not let it be poked out by Wood, while he slowly dribbled back, giving the illusion that he was tightly pressed on and forced to backpedal. At the same time, he paid close attention to the situation behind him and was relieved to see that pressure was still there.
Now, he had to make his act even more genuine, so that the inexperienced kid would be completely fooled...
He felt the pressure behind him getting stronger, and he hastened to pass the ball to Nolan, who came to his rescue.
Nolan, who had just received the football, looked up and was delighted to see George Wood give up Okocha to charge towards him.
So, he pretended to turn around in a slight panic to guard the ball.
Even Martin Taylor and Andy Gray in the press box were deceived by Nolan's performance: "George Wood is on the go, pressing on Okocha so much that he can only choose to pass the ball back. And now, it's Kevin Nolan's turn!"
If Nolan could have heard the commentary, he would have been pleased with himself. Wood was aggressively hammering him from behind, and he seemed agitated. What an inexperienced idiot, Nolan thought.
Nolan was going to further provoke Wood, so he slammed backwards. Then he passed the ball to Giannakopoulos, who was further behind. Then he saw Wood drop him to rush towards the Greek. The smirk on his face deepened. He could almost the coming scene: Giannakopoulos would kick a long pass after receiving it, and Okocha would dribble and break through to the penalty area to shoot the winning goal... No, Nolan corrected himself. Dribble the ball into the penalty area, then get tripped up by the opposing defender, and it will be a penalty kick! We lost a point because of a penalty kick, so we need to get back the score through a penalty kick!
Because Giannakopoulos's distance to Nolan was very close, he did not use much strength to make the pass; this was out of consideration for his teammate, and should have allowed him to stop the ball more easily. But the still fantasizing Nolan did not notice how fast Wood was running… running right past him.