"Coach, come and take a look."
Vilanova was chatting with Cruyff when he heard Fàbregas call out to him.
Vilanova turned his head and saw Pedro sitting on the ground. Beside him stood Fàbregas and Pique.
"Someone's injured?" Vilanova was shocked.
"Go and take a look." Cruyff patted Vilanova's shoulder.
Worried that his player might have been injured during the warm-up, Vilanova was a little anxious. He had just run into the field when he heard Pique shout, "Be careful —"
"Be careful of what?" Vilanova was still thinking about this question when his feet slipped. He fell directly on the ground!
"F * ck, bastard!" Vilanova, who had slipped, felt that he had lost face. He slapped the ground angrily. As a result, a piece of mud was thrown up and almost flew into his mouth. Vilanova subconsciously shut his mouth to avoid the misfortune of eating mud. Looking at the mud on his hands, the gentleman was furious. "Is this a f * cking football field or a muddy field?!"
Cruyff looked over when he heard a young player shout out for him to be careful. Then, he saw the head coach of the under-17 team, Mr. Vilanova, slip and fall awkwardly, almost eating mud. He immediately frowned.
Seeing the manager fall so pathetically, Barcelona's children wanted to laugh but did not dare.
Messi and Pique came over to help Vilanova up. The latter turned his head and saw the mud on his butt. He was so angry that smoke almost came out of his nose. However, he did not forget to care about his disciple first. "Pedro, what's wrong? Are you okay? "
"I fell just now —" Pedro said. Thinking that the coach had also fallen just now, the child's voice became lower. "It's okay."
"Coach, there's something wrong with this field," Little Messi complained.
Cruyff also came over at this time. He glanced at the field that looked like a rotten vegetable field. The corner of his mouth lifted and he patted Vilanova's shoulder. "This must be the Real Madrid team's intention. This is a new situation. You have to be careful. Well, you didn't break anything just now, did you? "
"I'm fine." He took the dry towel handed over by the assistant manager, Alex Garcia, and wiped the mud off his clothes. However, the more he wiped, the uglier it became. Vilanova was so angry that he threw the towel on the ground. Real Madrid had gone too far today to make La Masia's widely recognized good-tempered manager so angry.
Li Ang was gathering the players for a pre-match lecture. The situation on Barcelona's side caught the attention of the young players. When they saw Vilanova slipping on the ground, the children laughed heartlessly. They were not like the Barcelona players who had to hold back their laughter. When they saw their usual training and competition grounds turn into mud for the first time, they were as surprised as the Barcelona people. They had suffered a lot on this muddy ground, and slipping was a common occurrence. Now that they saw their opponent's manager fall into the mud, they were delighted.
The laughter from Real Madrid's side caused strong dissatisfaction on Barcelona's side.
"This is too much."
"How can a Real Madrid player be like this?"
"Bastard!"
Li Ang coughed. "What are you laughing at? You have no sense of civility. Don't laugh! "
Callejon and his lads had a hard time holding back their laughter.
Li Ang glanced over there again and found that Cruyff did not replace Vilanova as the manager. Instead, he stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching the young players of the Barcelona youth team gather to listen to Vilanova's speech. At this time, he was completely relieved. He was sure that Cruyff would not interfere with the game arrangements today.
"I'll say it again —" Li Ang's words were interrupted.
"I protest! I protest on behalf of Barcelona — "Barcelona's assistant manager, Alex Garcia, came over to protest the terrible situation of the field.
Li Ang winked at Pablo Banderas, and the latter went up to him. Assistant managers against assistant managers, this was equal.
"Let's continue —" Li Ang motioned for the young players to gather closer. "I don't need to say more about what the opponent of this game means."
"Barcelona!" Harvey Garcia shouted excitedly.
The other players also nodded vigorously. The name said it all.
"Very good! On the first day I came to Madrid, someone told me that defeating Barcelona was the obsession in the bones of every Real Madrid player. I like the word 'obsession' very much. It means that this is the desire to fight from the bottom of your heart, the battle cry! " Li Ang waved his fist vigorously. "Win this game, I believe this is the belief of all of you! This is also the reason why you can endure training in this muddy field, rolling around in such a terrible field, and being battered and exhausted! Think about the mud on your white and sacred jerseys after training in this terrible field. You must be very unhappy, right?! "
The young players nodded vigorously.
"You must be holding it in and want to vent?"
Of course!
"Very good, go ahead! Fight with your opponents! Go, soldiers! This is a hand-to-hand battle! Only cold teeth and a strong heart can win the final victory! "Li Ang's eyes were red. He almost roared," Go! For victory! "
The young players were stimulated by these words. The "soldiers" that the coach mentioned made their blood boil. They felt that this was a war. They shouted and were very excited. This was completely seen from the excited expressions on their faces!
"Real Madrid, Real Madrid! Victory! "The young players gathered together and shouted loudly, then ran up.
"You're a natural speaker." Pablo Banderas, who had finished dealing with the protests of the Barcelona players, came back and just happened to hear Li Ang's battle words that had stimulated the children to shout. He said with a smile.
"I prefer you to say that this is the general's command to the soldiers!" Li Ang raised his head and stared at the young players running to the field. At this moment, he really felt that he was sending his soldiers to the battlefield. He was inexplicably excited, nervous, and expectant. He was in character. At this moment, Li Ang really felt the feelings of a manager for the first time. The game with Getafe did not count. Because of the strength of the opponent and the crisis of the situation in this game, Li Ang could be said to be 200% committed. He felt it more deeply.
The shouts from Real Madrid's side attracted the attention of Barcelona's side. Cruyff, who was standing on the side with his arms crossed and listening to Vilanova's pre-game mobilization of the young players, was also attracted. He turned his head and saw Li Ang with his head held high, watching the young Real Madrid players enter the field. The young man's eyes were very serious and left a deep impression.
The situation in the field was so bad. Needless to say, it was the work of the Real Madrid coach. Cruyff was a little surprised by this and frowned, but that was all. He was used to big scenes, so he scoffed at these little tricks. At the same time, Cruyff also wanted to see how this youth team, with Messi as the core, would deal with such a terrible environment in the competition venue. This could also be seen as a form of training.
Cruyff originally thought that Li Ang was a coach who only knew how to play tricks. This could be seen from the man's rude behavior when he shook hands with Vilanova and the tricks he played on the field.
In short, he did not have a good impression of him.
But at this moment, looking at Li Ang's focused and serious eyes, Cruyff smiled again. At least at this moment, this kid was not annoying. He was a person who was focused on football.
"Interesting," Cruyff muttered.
Li Ang did not know that Barça's Godfather was observing him. He returned to the technical area and stood there with his hands in his trouser pockets. He growled in a voice that only he could hear. "This is a battle!"
He was a little nervous. It was just nervousness, not fear.
It was nervousness mixed with excitement.
PS: Friends, after reading this chapter, please add it to your collection. A new day. Looking for another recommendation ticket. Looking for support.
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