Can't get rid of it?
Fàbregas's competitive spirit rose. He knocked back hard, hoping to create some distance for him to move. He did not expect his opponent to not move at all. It was as if he had hit a wall made of boulders and was almost pushed forward by the reaction force. Fàbregas, who was staggering, suddenly had a flash of inspiration.
He took advantage of the situation to knock the ball forward and then chased out. When he felt the pressure lessen a little, he immediately made a feint to make Wood, who was behind him, think he wanted to change direction from the left, but he quickly moved the ball to the right and turned around at the same time!
The inexperienced Wood was indeed fooled. When he saw Fàbregas' upper body fall to the left, he moved his center of gravity over. Then he found his opponent escaping from the other side!
Was he broken through?
This thought flashed through Wood's mind. Another sentence sounded at the same time, "If he breaks through, it's a foul!"
He did not forcibly pull back his center of gravity. Instead, he took advantage of the situation to turn left and make a big circle to the right. Then, he took a big stride and was actually on par with Fàbregas again!
What a terrifying burst of power!
Originally, Wood could have chosen to continue to press Fàbregas so that he could not comfortably take the ball and pass the ball. But Wood's mind was filled with the idea of "using a foul to stop number 25 from breaking through", so he simply shoveled the ball and brought down Fàbregas at the same time.
The referee's whistle finally sounded. Nottingham Forest's number 55 had fouled.
"Bastard! Not even a verbal warning! "Brady complained unhappily on the sidelines.
Wenger, who was sitting next to him, did not say anything. Now his attention had shifted from Twain to the mysterious number 55. It was not easy to make Cesc look so miserable, even if he was two or three years older.
Who was he? What were his previous playing results like? How bright was his future if he was groomed?
It was interesting. He followed the team to Nottingham just to see the performance of Fàbregas, Clichy and Senderos, but he did not expect to find such an interesting kid.
With the professor's experience and vision, he could already see that Wood was not experienced enough. But his physical fitness greatly made up for the gap between him and Fàbregas. Fàbregas was not familiar with Wood, so he was at a loss. If there was another game, he believed that Wood would not be able to easily keep an eye on Fàbregas. But that was not important. What was important was that Wenger saw potential in this child, the potential to turn a raw stone into a diamond.
Wenger straightened his body and turned his head to glance at Tony Twain, who was standing on the sidelines and directing the match. No matter what the final result of this match was, perhaps after the match was over, he would have to talk to that man …
While Wenger was quietly observing Wood off the pitch, he once again successfully intercepted Fàbregas' attack on the pitch. This time, Fàbregas finally found an opportunity to face Wood. He planned to force his way through this annoying man. He did not expect that a "slow turn", a common problem for defenders, was not a problem for Wood at all. Although he was indeed slow when he decided to turn … He only turned when he saw Fàbregas pass the ball past him. It looked like he was a step slower than Fàbregas, but what was the actual effect?
Fàbregas found that he couldn't outrun this big guy. He could always easily appear by his side. The only thing he could take advantage of was that he was more experienced than this person, and then he could trick him into fouling, and he could take the offensive free kick.
The match seemed to have become a one-on-one battle between him and Number 55, but no one raised any objections. This kind of match should have been a contest between the best players.
Wenger looked at Fàbregas, who was fighting with Wood on the pitch. Cesc was still a little too young …
He said to Brady, "Miriam, let Cesc go back." He made a retrieving gesture.
"You mean … let him withdraw from his current position?" Brady was a little surprised.
"Yes, from a central midfielder to a defensive midfielder. Pull him to the line in front of the defenders, a little further away from Number 55. Let him cut down on the number of assists, and use more long passes and direct passes to tear the opponent's defense. "
Brady glanced at Wenger. He knew what this decision meant — Fàbregas would be forced to avoid Number 55's spearhead. To put it nicely, it was a "strategic retreat and transfer." To put it bluntly, it was "running away"!
"This …" Brady was a little worried that this would deal a blow to Fàbregas' confidence and fighting spirit.
"It's okay. Cesc is very smart. He will understand."
Brady stood up and walked to the sidelines. Then he roared, "Fàbregas!" When the Spaniard looked at him, he tilted his head and waved behind him. "Defensive midfielder!"
Fàbregas's gaze went past Brady and stopped on Wenger. The professor was expressionless. He said nothing and did nothing. He nodded, turned around and ran back.
Seeing that his prey did not come up and instead shrank back, Wood was a little at a loss. Should he follow up?
Just as he was hesitating, Fàbregas, who was in the defensive midfielder position, launched a fifty-meter long pass attack. Clichy, who plugged in from the back, received the ball and passed. Papadopoulos' shot was blocked out of the end line by Wes Morgan. Corner kick! Senderos ran up.
"Tony." Kerslake reminded Twain.
Twain nodded in response, "I know." He looked at Brady, who was also loudly directing the game on the sidelines and letting the center backs press to the front to score. This man is quite smart. But do you think you'll be safe and sound if you let Fàbregas go back? Dream on!
Arsenal's corner kick came out. Wes Morgan was defeated in the confrontation with Senderos and let the opponent head the ball! It was the goalkeeper, Lukiko, who saved the team this time. He pinned the header that was within reach firmly on the goal line.
"George!" Seeing that the danger had been eliminated, Twain also roared. "Have you forgotten what I told you?" He pointed to Fàbregas, who was returning to his position. "Bite him! Keep your eyes on him! Don't care where he is! Go up! Man to man, man to man! "Twain clenched his right hand into a fist and hit it hard with his left palm.
He was not afraid that his tactical arrangements would be heard by the opponent. So what if they knew? Unless you change the core of the midfield now, I'll definitely eat Arsenal and Fàbregas in today's game!
So, Wood, who had received the latest instructions, went up again. This time, even if the opponent retreated to the goal line in one breath, he would not hesitate to follow up.
"Bastard!" Brady scolded. "Does he not care about the team's overall formation? Does he not care that this will cause the team's offense to be chaotic? "
Wenger laughed on the side. "Of course he doesn't care about those things. He's in the lead now, not us, Miriam. A one-goal lead can change a lot. With an advantageous position, he can use things he can't normally use against us. And we … if we can't think of a better way, we can only be led by the nose by him. "
Brady looked at his watch. Unknowingly, the game had gone on for another 15 minutes. There were still 10 minutes before the end of the game. "Have you admitted defeat, Arthur?"
"No, of course I haven't. The game hasn't …" Wenger had not finished his words when he suddenly felt a chill on his forehead. He looked up in confusion.
Tang En also looked up at the sky. It was raining!
It had been cloudy for most of the day, but it was raining just as the game was about to end. The rain came from nothing, from light to heavy. In a very short period of time, the line of rain was already clearly visible. The weather forecast said it would be light to moderate rain today …
Damn it! Tang En suddenly remembered that there was someone in poor health still on the sidelines. He rummaged through the backpack under his chair and took out the foldable umbrella that he had brought out today but thought would not be put to use. He then called for Biomonte.
"James." He saw that Sophia was still standing in the rain, and the rain was slowly getting heavier. "Can you still run?"
Biomonte nodded. "Yes, sir!"
"Very good. Do you see that lady? "he asked, pointing at Sophia.
"I see her, sir."
"Run over and give this to her now! Hurry! "
"Yes, sir!" Biomonte took the umbrella and ran over as fast as he could in a relay run. Tang En's gaze followed him. He saw him run to Sophia and see her take the umbrella with some surprise. He also saw Biomonte point at him and say something. Then, Sophia looked at him. Tang En could even see the smile on her face. He made a gesture to open the umbrella, reminding the woman to open it first before thanking him.
When Sophia obediently opened the umbrella and was about to thank Mr. Tang En again, she saw that Tang En had already turned his head back and placed his attention back on the game.
The black men's umbrella completely covered the petite Sophia. No matter how heavy the rain outside was, it was unable to wet her clothes.
It was not only the people on the sidelines who felt the sudden cold rain, and the increasingly heavy rain. George Wood also noticed it sensitively. Even though he was still defending against Fàbregas, even though Fàbregas had just received the ball and was about to launch another attack. Still, he suddenly dropped his opponent and turned his head to look at where his mother was standing on the sidelines.
When he saw his mother holding an umbrella and continuing to watch him play, his attention was suddenly drawn back to the game. Fàbregas had already dribbled the ball and left him behind. He planned to personally rush forward to attack. However, he did not completely shake him off. The distance was less than ten meters.
Wood turned around and pounced at Fàbregas like a ferocious tiger descending the mountain. He then used a foul to end Arsenal's attack. He received a yellow card, while Fàbregas was so angry that he could only punch the ground with his fist, splashing up a puddle of muddy water. He did not expect number 55 to chase back so quickly! Or perhaps it was the speed of his recovery …
The rain grew heavier. More and more people held up umbrellas at the sidelines. Tang En continued to stand in the rain and direct the game. In fact, there was nothing more to direct. He was clear in his heart. He believed that his opponent was also very clear.
Wenger took the umbrella that Brady handed to him and held it above his head. Listening to the pitter-patter of the raindrops hitting the umbrella, the professor sighed. "Riam, this game is over. We've lost."
Brady did not say anything either.
Indeed, with the score behind, this rain was the straw that broke the camel's back. The field was even more muddy. The players were agitated. The core of the midfield was completely frozen by that nameless kid. If they wanted to make a comeback, they would need the rain to flow back into the sky.
The Arsenal technical area sank into silence. In the distance, the singing and cheers of the Forest fans rang out again from the sidelines. John and the others were drenched in the rain, beating the beat with their hands to accompany their singing.
"Wood! Wood! Wood! Wood! Wood! Grow into a forest! Forest! Forest! Forest! Victory! Oh, lala! Forest, forest! "
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