The dim light emitted by the crystal chandelier on the ceiling could not completely illuminate the bar, but in this rainy late autumn, it could bring a trace of warmth to people's hearts.
There were many people gathered in this old bar. They gathered in groups of three to five and chatted. Perhaps their topics were different, but everyone glanced at the door at the same time, as if waiting for someone.
There was soothing music playing in the bar. It was an old song, The Beatles' "When I'm Sixty-Four."
When I'm old and my hair falls out.
Many, many years later.
Will you give me a Valentine's Day present?
A birthday card, a bottle of wine.
…
The bar was not noisy, so the soft sound of The Beatles was clear. Everyone lowered their voices and whispered to each other.
There was a sign hanging on the door outside — Closed.
Kenny Burns, with a head of gray hair and a little hunched back, sat behind the somewhat damaged wooden bar, holding a glass in one hand and a towel in the other.
His eyes stared straight ahead, through the old-fashioned glass window covered with a layer of water vapor, and saw the outside.
Across the street was a construction site that was in the process of breaking ground. The white fence was pushed to the ground and fell into the muddy water, becoming dirty and indistinguishable. There was an excavator parked on the side of the road. The rain was a little heavy, and the construction site had also stopped.
A year ago, this was a row of two-story residential buildings.
It was said that a large supermarket would be built here in two years. Behind the Forest Bar, there was also a construction site, where a few high-rise buildings would be built as new office buildings. Wilford became the new development center of Nottingham.
The bar at the corner of the street stood alone between the two construction sites, surrounded by construction machinery. It was like an isolated island surrounded by mechanical beasts.
There was the roar of a car engine outside the door, followed by the sound of a car stopping. Hearing this sound, everyone in the room stopped talking and turned their eyes to the door.
The person who opened the door was indeed a woman's face. Everyone was a little disappointed at first, but then they all stood up.
"Madame," they all greeted, with deference, to the woman whose face was only visible at the door.
"You guys scared me. You suddenly stood up …" The woman who spoke pushed the door open, but she didn't come in immediately. She seemed to be waiting for someone.
Seeing her like this, everyone was filled with anticipation. Everyone was like a duck being hung on a bar, stretching their necks to look outside the door.
The second person to appear at the door was the familiar George Wood. Wood took over the woman's job and blocked the door. The woman retreated.
Although they hadn't seen the person, everyone heard the familiar hoarse voice.
"Don't bother me. Do I look like I can't walk?"
"Okay, okay, if you want to hold my hand, just hold my arm, but don't act like you're supporting a patient …"
As soon as he finished speaking, the owner of the voice appeared at the door.
When the slightly hunched figure appeared at the door, everyone in the bar opened their mouths and shouted, "Boss!"
Seeing this, the old man grinned and chuckled. He raised his hand. "Long time no see, guys."
The person the entire bar had been waiting for, Tony Twain, had finally arrived.
And the woman supporting him was naturally his wife, Shania.
※ ※ ※
Twain took off the old-fashioned wide-brimmed hat on his head. Wood wanted to catch it, but Shania beat him to it. Next, a gray scarf and a black windbreaker were also handed to her. Shania went to hang up the clothes, while Twain sat down on a chair. Surrounded by people, he raised the soda on the table. "I don't drink. You guys make yourselves at home."
Then, someone came up to talk to Twain.
The first person to succeed was the owner of the bar, Kenny Burns, a man older than everyone present.
He slowly walked up to Twain, pulled a chair and sat down. Seeing this, everyone tactfully dispersed.
"Look at how old you are." Twain grinned at Burns and "mocked" him.
"You're not much better, Tony." Burns looked at the man opposite him. His hair was much whiter than before, but he was in good spirits and his face was ruddy. He was indeed much better than him.
But when he thought about it again, he was 75 years old this year, while Tony was only 60, 15 years younger than him. Wasn't he just as hale and hearty when he was 60? People would eventually grow old. This was the law of nature.
"I almost lost my way when I came here. Your surroundings have really changed a lot. Ha! "Twain laughed.
When he was looking for his way in the car, he laughed on the spot when he saw the environment and Burns' bar. Shania and Wood, who was driving, did not know why he laughed. Of course, they would not find it. They might never find out for the rest of their lives. Looking at the Forest Bar, which was surrounded by construction machinery and a badly excavated construction site, the word "holdout" naturally appeared in Tang En's mind. In Twain's view, Kenny Burns was clearly a holdout here. The buildings adjacent to the bar had all been demolished, and only this bar was left standing. But it was said that it could not escape the fate of being demolished.
"I have to replan it," Burns said, looking at the excavators outside the window. "After today, my bar will be completely closed."
Twain was not surprised. He nodded. "And then where are you going?"
"Home."
Hearing his words, Twain froze for a moment. He then realized that Burns' home was not here, but in Scotland. He had lived here for decades, making him think that he had always been a Nottingham person …
The City Ground stadium was demolished, the Wilford training base was demolished, and now even this bar was going to be demolished. The testimonies of the past disappeared one by one before his eyes. Twain suddenly became silent.
Burns knew what Twain was thinking. He lightly patted the table. "Fortunately, the bar and stadium can be demolished, but the memories cannot be demolished."
As he said this, a smile appeared on Twain's face. He thought of a song. Burns had definitely not heard this song before, but the meaning was exactly the same when he said it. He nodded. "The memories are still here. What about John and the rest? "
He was still thinking about those lovely fans.
"They're not as fanatical as before. After all, they're old. But now it's their children's turn to be fanatical. It's just that they don't come to my place. Those young people all say that my place looks lethargic and not suitable for young people. "
Twain chuckled. Burns' bar did indeed look old and run-down, even though he had cleaned it up quite well. But he could not shake off the feeling of a yellowed photograph or old film. It was very much the same as what he saw when he first came here. There were only a few more photos on the wall from when he led the team to win the championship. But those photos now looked a little faded.
"I haven't seen them for a long time …"
Twain murmured.
Today was the first time he had come to this bar in ten years. It felt like things were still the same, but people had changed.
Since his retirement ten years ago, he had accompanied his wife to live all over the world. They had lived on the West Coast of America for a period of time, in Nottingham, England for a period of time, and even in China. People who did not know them thought they had been living in China for many years.
As the media said, his retirement was quite carefree. If not for his illness at the beginning of last year, he might have continued to be so carefree.
"Sometimes they ask about you," Burns said as he looked up at the excavator outside the window. "When a bunch of old guys get together, they mostly talk about your time. I've seen John teach his son a lesson. He slapped him on the head and scolded him for not talking nonsense here if he had not experienced it. Ha … "
Twain was curious about what John said to his son.
"Actually, it's nothing much. John just said that Dunn did not do worse than you did."
Hearing this, Twain chuckled.
"John scolded him. Dunn only won two championships in ten years. Compared to you, who won 16 championships in 16 years, how is he not worse than you? Old guys always like to reminisce about the past … "
"Wrong. When they start to reminisce about the past, that means they are old, "Twain corrected.
"Aren't we reminiscing about the past now?"
"That's why we are also old," Twain replied.
※ ※ ※
Pepe and Piqué pulled a few people from the back defensive line and came up to take a photo with Twain. Twain told them that there was a bronze statue of himself outside the Crimson Stadium. It was completed four years ago and was still very fresh. Pepe said that there was a real person in front of them. Why did they have to take a photo with the bronze statue? His words received widespread approval from everyone. So, after a democratic vote, Twain became the best person to take a photo with.
A few people clustered around Twain in the middle in front of the camera, smiling brightly under the flashing lights.
With the help of his grandfather, Piqué entered the board of directors of the Barcelona Football Club and was expected to become the chairman of the Barcelona Football Club in the future.
Pepe, on the other hand, ran between Brazil and Portugal. He opened restaurants in both places and was no longer engaged in football-related work. Pepe, who ran the restaurant, looked fatter than before. With a round belly, he stood out in the crowd. His already round face became even rounder.
Gareth Bale, Rafinha, Akinfeev, Pepe and Piqué, the main defensive line of the Forest team in its heyday, gathered around Twain, giving people a feeling of going back in time. The Russian returned to his homeland and became the goalkeeper coach of FC Lokomotiv Moscow. Now, he was the goalkeeper coach of the Russian national team. Most players would choose football-related work after they retired.
Rafinha was employed by Arsenal and became Arsenal's domestic scout in Brazil. He was responsible for unearthing outstanding Brazilian seedlings for Arsenal.
Bale entered the Welsh Football Association. As the most successful player in Welsh football after Ryan Giggs, it was only natural for him to enter the association. The current Bale did not have the naughty look of the "little monkey" from back then. Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, he was infinitely closer to being an official.
However, when Twain called him "little monkey," he still happily agreed.
After the people on the defensive line left, a few people in the midfield came. Twain was surprised. "Did you guys discuss it? Are they coming in waves? "
Everyone laughed and crowded around him in the middle, taking another group photo.
When Ribéry left the Forest team, he was suspected of running away. Later, when they met on the field, a conflict broke out. But now, when those past events were brought up, it was more of a "smile to forget all enmity." However, his smile was still ugly, and the scar on his face was still there. As he grew older, it was no longer as scary. He now had his own agency and was the agent of a number of French players. He could be considered a successful businessman. In Nottingham Forest today, there was a French player introduced by him as an agent.
These two groups of people set a precedent. Everyone took turns to take photos with Twain. Some took photos in groups, and some took photos alone. Twain took the opportunity to have a simple chat with them during the photo to understand their current situation.
Those guys who dominated the field and ran amok in European football had all retired. They had all become fat middle-aged men in their forties. Some of them still kept in touch, and some only met again because of this gathering. Usually, everyone had another identity, their career, and their lives. But today, in this bar that was about to be demolished, they had returned to their original identities — Nottingham Forest players, Tony Twain's soldiers.
After the photo, they continued to gather in twos and threes to chat, talking about how they missed each other after not seeing each other for many years, or talking about the memorable years on the field.
Twain did not participate. He sat by the side with his wife, Shania, quietly watching everything in front of him, feeling deeply satisfied.
He found that his memory had become very good at this time. He suddenly remembered a dust-laden past. He would never have remembered it normally.
If he remembered correctly, it should be in May 2004, when he attended a similar gathering here. But the main characters at that time were Brian Clough and his soldiers. They were commemorating the fifteenth anniversary of winning the Champions League. At that time, watching those people talking and reminiscing about the late seventies, as an outsider, he felt very envious. He had a fantasy in his heart — that one day, he could also sit here with his former subordinates and reminisce about the days when Europe was crowned king.
Now, the fantasy had come true. Things remained the same, but people had changed.
As the assistant manager of the championship team, Dunn was also invited today. He was still the manager of Nottingham Forest. In order to attend this gathering, he specially took a leave of absence. At this moment, he was sitting by the side, chatting with his old colleagues from back then. Twain noticed him. He wondered if at this time, deep in his heart, he also had the same longing as he did back then.
He got up and walked over slowly, sitting down beside the coaches.
"Guys, I'm so happy to see you're all still here."
Everyone saw Twain coming over and got up to show their respect. After Twain sat down, they all took their seats.
Twain glanced around. "Where's Freddy?"
"Him? He said he's on the players' side, so he went to catch up with his old teammates." David Kerslake, who was older than Twain, pointed in a direction. Twain looked in the direction. Sure enough, he saw Eastwood sitting together with Ribéry, chatting about something.
He grinned and retracted his gaze.
"You're all old."
"Aren't you too, Tony?" Everyone replied.
Most of these people were still doing their previous jobs in the Forest team. It could be said that they were the group that had changed the least. For example, David Kerslake was still the assistant manager of the Forest team, and Eastwood had become the director of the youth training camp.
"How are your two good daughters, Tony?" Someone in the crowd asked.
Twain perked up as soon as he heard the question. He puffed out his chest and raised his head proudly. "Teresa is very, very beautiful. As for Liv … she's very lucky. She looks more like her mother."
The crowd laughed.
Teresa was already 14 years old. She was very delicate and pretty. Every time he saw her, Twain felt sorry for Teresa's biological parents. How could they bear to throw away such a beautiful and cute daughter?
Liv was Twain's youngest daughter. Shania gave birth to her the year he retired. She was almost 10 years old now. Unlike the quiet Teresa, Liv was lively and had a typical Western personality. She was very much like her mother back then.
What made him happy was that Liv and Teresa had a good relationship. They did not neglect or bully her quiet, introverted and shy sister. This might have something to do with him and Shania's example. After Liv was born, Teresa was worried that she would lose her parents' love. But the couple answered with more love.
What annoyed him was that Liv preferred the sunny West Coast of America to the cold and gloomy England. Her personality was also a little like that of an American, overly lively. So, in order to satisfy the little fellow, the family spent more time away from England. For this reason, Tang En even gave up his job at BBC5. Now, he only published his own articles in newspapers and online, but he did not rely on it to make a living.
In the depths of Twain's heart, there was a selfish motive that he did not tell anyone. He hoped that both of his daughters would like China. So other than America and England, the place he spent the most time was China. He missed that place. Especially as he grew older, his desire to go there grew stronger. Perhaps it was the China soul in his bones that caused mischief. It was an instinct to return to one's roots …
No matter what, these two babies were Twain's greatest pride and achievements. To him, the glorious results of his 16 years of coaching and the 16 important championship trophies had long been tossed beyond the clouds. They were not worth mentioning. Perhaps the Forest fans and the club's players were proud of the trophies that Tony Twain had won. Perhaps there were still many people who relished Twain's 16 years of legendary experience. Perhaps the media was complaining that the current celebrities were clowns who sought the attention of the public, but at the same time, they missed the "clown" that they hated the most. Perhaps … Twain did not care. He felt that the greatest honor and championship trophy in his life was having a happy family, a wife who loved him, and two healthy and beautiful daughters. When he transmigrated 26 years ago, he lost his family. But at that time, he did not care because he felt that he was young and it was time for him to do something. Now, he felt that he had gone around in a big circle. What was the ultimate goal of doing something? To be able to build a happy family, to let his family live a carefree life, to be able to have family …
God allowed him to understand this at the age of 50, and used another 10 years to make him cherish it even more.
There was nothing more important in life than family, and that was the case until death.
Twain excitedly told his old buddies, whom he had not seen for many years, about how cute and smart his two daughters were.
Yes, he was showing off, showing off his family. But no one felt that he should not do so.
Looking at how he was in high spirits now, the man who was also in high spirits more than 20 years ago was disappearing from everyone's sight. Similarly, no one felt that it was a pity.
How great it was.
David Kerslake raised his glass to Twain. "Seeing that you're so happy, I …" He turned to look at his old colleagues around him, and then turned to look at Twain. "No, we're all very happy."
Twain raised the soda in his hand, greeting his old subordinates who had raised their glasses.
"Thank you."
Among those who raised their glasses to Twain, there was another person that Twain was very familiar with, but he had not spoken. There was some tiredness in the corners of his eyes, and his temples were a little white. The wrinkles on his forehead had clearly increased. Seeing him gave Twain the illusion of going back in time and looking at a mirror. That was because he saw his original appearance in his forties.
It was Nottingham Forest's current manager, a Chinese, Dunn. A sworn brother with whom he had swapped souls and bodies.
Realizing that Twain was looking at him, Dunn returned a smile.
He moved over and sat down beside Dunn. Lowering his voice, he leaned over and asked a question in Dunn's ear, "How are Dad and Mom?"
Dunn nodded without batting an eyelid. "Very good."
Only after getting this answer did Twain raise his head again, a smile appearing on his face. Then, the two men looked at each other, speechless.
Although Twain had traveled all over the world, he still paid attention to Forest's matters. However, he had never publicly evaluated Forest. Now, facing Forest's current manager, he remained the same and did not say anything.
Just like when he was coaching the Forest team, the boss, Brian Clough, always did not say anything, no matter how good or bad he did. Other than telling him not to be too stressed and not to be too proud, he hardly mentioned anything about his achievements.
He was very childish back then, but Dunn was not. He knew what he should do and what he should not do. Hadn't he done quite well in Forest for the past ten years? Although they had only won two league championships, they had made the foundation that Tang En had not been able to fill in properly previously firm up.
Under Dunn's leadership, Nottingham Forest was slowly shaking off his influence. The story that Burns told reflected this very well. The new generation of fans felt that Dunn had done a good job. Wasn't that the best reward for his ten years of coaching?
This was pretty good. He did not need to come out and point fingers, to show to the outside world that he still had some influence on Nottingham Forest. A retired person had to act like one. Otherwise, he might as well continue coaching. Worrying about his failure while still wanting to be the club's overlord was the behavior of a coward. Twain disdained it.
So, they looked at each other in silence. Twain did not say "well done" or "not good enough." Dunn also would not take the initiative to tell Twain about his own coaching results. In front of Twain, he also had his own pride.
Twain raised the cup in his hand to Dunn. "Happy tenth anniversary, Dunn."
Dunn returned the greeting. "I wish you good health, Tony."
※ ※ ※
As the sky gradually darkened, the rain outside grew heavier. However, the fervent atmosphere in the bar seemed exceptionally warm. Everyone was in high spirits, and the noise in the bar gradually grew louder, already suppressing the sound of the music. It was not only Twain who had not seen each other for many years. There were also some others who had been busy with their own lives and careers after retiring. They usually did not have the opportunity to gather and chat like this.
This fifteen-year anniversary gathering for the five Champions League titles had given them such an opportunity. Of course, they had to catch up with their good friends from back then and chat a little more. They had to ask about the situation over the years, reminisce about the time they had spent together on the battlefield, and talk about the interesting people and things. Even the conflicts from back then had become especially warm memories on this afternoon.
Under such circumstances, Twain planned to go home.
He knocked on the table in front of his wife and said to her, "Let's go back."
Shania was a little surprised. "You're not going to stay a little longer? Didn't you say you had a lot to say to your old friends? "
"It was supposed to be like that. But after I came and saw them, I suddenly had nothing to say. Just looking at them makes me feel good. I've seen enough anyway. I'm a little tired. "
Shania knew that Twain was really tired, so she nodded in agreement. "Let's say goodbye to them before we leave."
The two of them stood up and immediately attracted the attention of everyone present.
"He's just recovered from a serious illness. He's not as energetic as you guys." Shania told everyone that Twain was leaving early.
Twain pursed his lips. "Don't listen to her. I got sick last year. I'm in good health now. "
"Madam is right, boss. You have to listen to her," someone in the crowd said.
"That's right, Tony. Take care of yourself. We can still meet again in ten years. "Everyone stretched out their hands and waved at Twain, making a promise of ten years.
"Okay, let's meet again in ten years." Twain put on his coat with Shania's help and put on a scarf. Finally, he took his hat, pinched it in his hand, and waved at everyone.
George Wood, who had been very engrossed in chatting with his teammates, squeezed his way through the crowd. "I'll take you home."
Shania shook her head. "I'll drive. It's not easy for you to get together with everyone. You should play a little longer. "
George Wood had retired four years ago when he was thirty-eight years old. As the greatest captain in Nottingham Forest's history, his retirement was comparable to Twain's departure. The scene was sensational and touching. Wood, a tough guy, had tears in his eyes when he said goodbye and choked up a few times. Twain was in the stadium's box at that time and witnessed the scene with his own eyes. When the 60,000 people in the stadium shouted "Saint George", his eyes also became moist.
George Wood's retirement had completely ended Nottingham Forest's golden era. The last player Twain was familiar with had left the stage of the world of football. From then on, Nottingham Forest's most glorious period could only be found in historical records.
In the summer after his retirement, Wood married Vivian, a nurse whom he had been in love with for more than six years, and formed a new family. Now their children were already three years old, and they were living a happy life.
Wood now looked like a model of a mature man. His childishness was completely gone.
After the now mature Wood heard Shania's words, he turned his gaze to Twain.
Twain nodded. "Listen to her, George. Even I have to listen to her, haha! "
The big guy laughed again. Only then did Wood give up on his plan and move to the side. It was only when Twain passed by him that he said in a low voice, "I'll visit you in a few days."
"Okay, bring your wife and your son." Twain nodded lightly.
With Shania's support, he walked to the door. Twain put the hat in his hand on his head. Dressed neatly, he raised his hand and waved to everyone. "Don't send me off. It's raining heavily outside. Goodbye, guys. I'm so happy to see you all still alive and kicking. Haha! "
Twain turned around amidst his laughter. Shania opened an umbrella for him and covered both of them under it. Just like that, the two of them walked into the rain. The raindrops hit the umbrella and made a pitter-patter sound. Their reflections were reflected in the puddles by the roadside. The crowd gathered around and saw Shania holding the umbrella with one hand and supporting Twain at the same time. She used the other to open the car door, which was a little inconvenient. Several people immediately rushed out from the crowd to help. In the end, Wood snatched the umbrella from Shania's hand, while Bell supported Twain. Eastwood opened the car door for Twain. "Boss, please get in."
Shania, on the other hand, had nothing to do. She stood beside Twain and smiled at him. "Look, what a grand farewell ceremony."
Twain turned his head to look at Eastwood, who was opening the car door for him, and smiled. Then he looked back at the entrance of the bar, which was already crowded with people. Everyone stood under the eaves and looked at him.
Twain waved at them and gestured for them to go back. Then he turned around and got into the car.
Eastwood closed the door for Twain. Wood held the umbrella for Shania and sent her around to the driver's side of the car door. He also sent her into the car.
Shania rolled down the window and stretched out her hand to say goodbye to them. "Goodbye, thank you!"
Everyone returned the gesture.
Then the car started and slowly drove through the construction machinery parked on both sides of the road, splashing the water on the side of the road. It drove out of everyone's sight, leaving only the yellow tail lights faintly visible in the rain. In the end, even the light of the tail lights disappeared in the fog of rain.
The rain was still falling, pitter-pattering on the ground. The players were still gathered at the entrance, looking in the direction of the boss' departure.
After a long time, Bell asked, "The boss is leaving just like that?" There was some disbelief in his tone.
"Yes, he's leaving," Wood replied. "Go back. Let's continue."
Although he said that, he did not move his feet. Everyone was the same as him. They all stood at the entrance and continued to look in the direction of Twain's departure.
Burns did not follow them out. He was in the bar and saw the scene of Twain's car leaving through the steamy window. Everyone crowded outside. The bar, which had been bustling with noise and steam a moment ago, suddenly became empty and quiet.
The music playing on the stereo had just finished a round and switched to the song at the beginning.
You'll be old then. As long as you say you need me,
I'll be willing to be with you.
I'll be by your side, fixing your fuse,
When your lights are off.
You can knit by the fireside.
Go for a drive on Sunday mornings,
Fix the garden and weed it out,
I won't ask for more.
Will you still need me then? Will you still serve me?
When I'm sixty-four …
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