In the locker room during halftime, Tang En praised Harewood's performance in the first half, as well as the performance of the entire midfield. They played according to his expectations before the game and the results of their usual training. He had nothing more to say. He just wanted the team to play like they did in the first half.
In the other lounge, it was another scene.
Stuart Murdoch vented all the anger he had bottled up in the first half on his players. In the locker room, he mercilessly scolded everyone. Even the goalkeeper, Davis, who had the best performance in the first half, could not escape his fate.
"Damien Francis, David Connolly, Neil Shipperley, what are you three doing? If you can't find the opponent's goal, I can point it out to you! Nigel Reo-Coker, you're the captain. You should stand up at times like this. Whether it's to score or to assist your teammates, you shouldn't be running around like this! Dean Lewington! This is your first time representing the First Team in a match. If you don't want to return to the reserve team after this game, you'd better buck up! "
After reprimanding the players, Manager Murdoch took a breath.
"We've moved this season and lost a lot of fans. But no matter what, we still have the name of Wimbledon! We're still the Crazy Gang! When has the Crazy Gang ever been afraid of those bastards? Your f * cking performance on the field is an insult to that great name! Vinnie Jones, Dennis Wise, Lawrie Sanchez, Dave Beasant, Alan Kirk, Brian Gale … if they're still here! " Murdoch read out the names of those people one by one, emphasizing each one. When he finished, he pointed angrily at his feet and said, "They'll definitely rush out and tear those bastards from Nottingham Forest to pieces! This is the Crazy Gang's football! We've gradually lost this spirit over the years. I want you to get it back in today's game!! "
When the second half resumed, Tang En sat in the technical area and chatted cheerfully with Walker. In the stands behind, Michael stopped criticizing Tang En's football and began to focus on the game. Everything looked wonderful.
But five minutes later, Twain could not smile anymore. In those five minutes, Wimbledon committed a total of seven fouls and received two yellow cards. For a moment, the entire court was in chaos and it was very lively! Seeing this scene, the second half of the match between Forest and West Ham flashed through his mind …
His rapid advance tactics were useless against Wimbledon's barbaric defense, and the error rate was even higher. The players seemed to be afraid of physical confrontation with the Wimbledon players, because this group of people was not playing football, but rugby …
Coach Murdoch, who appeared incompetent in the first half, was also particularly active at this time. He stood on the sidelines and shouted, "Shove their feet!! Idiot! "
Tang En heard these words clearly. "This bastard …" He had said this in the locker room during the halftime interval with West Ham United, but he was not arrogant enough to shout at the sidelines of the game.
"That's normal, Tony. When I was playing football, the coaches would often say that, "Walker explained to Tang En. He had heard such words many times, so his reaction was not as big as Tang En's.
"No, Des. You misunderstand what I mean. I know it's normal, and I would do the same. But I can't let others use it on my team. "This was Tang En's" double standard. " Des shrugged and did not think much of it. He only thought that Tang En was being stubborn.
Ten minutes passed, and the situation did not change. Wimbledon completely dominated the initiative with their barbaric playing style. Motson said that if the game continued to be played this way, Forest's captain would become the best player of the match because he was too eye-catching … His busy figure was in almost every shot.
This kind of game was good for training the defenders, but Tang En could not wait for his defenders to not get any training in a game. He could not sit still anymore. How could he break the opponent's barbaric playing style?
He thought for a while, and it seemed that he could only hope that the referee would be stricter with his punishment and send off a few of the opponents as soon as possible. But … but Wimbledon's barbaric playing style was common in England's lower leagues. The referee was probably used to it. At most, he would blow for a stop and give a verbal warning. Unless it was a particularly serious foul, he would only give a warning card.
Moreover, Tang En could see that the opponent's manager arranged for the players to take turns to foul. He did not always let one or two players complete this difficult task. This could distract the referee's attention and increase the chances of his players getting a card. This capitalist enemy … How cunning!
It could not be said that Tang En did not have standards just because he could not think of a solution. At their peak, Wimbledon could make Liverpool, who dominated the English football scene, lose all face, run back to the locker room crying, and even hand over the FA Cup. They could also make Manchester United, with Giggs and the others, raise their hands and surrender. It was really difficult to find a way to restrain their barbaric playing style. That was why they were promoted to the third division in four years, and won the FA Cup in five years.
Of course, the current Wimbledon was no longer the "Crazy Gang" that everyone feared. But the problem was that Tang En's Nottingham Forest was no longer the red whirlwind that swept across Europe. The two teams were evenly matched. When faced with such a playing style, there was really nothing they could do.
Fourteen minutes passed, and Wimbledon pressed closer and closer to the front. It looked like they did not need to defend anymore. There was a large empty space in the back field. Any long kick would be a single cut. But the Forest team's ball could not cross the center line under their frenzied pressure from the front field!
Wimbledon shot three times in a row and finally obtained a corner kick. Other than the goalkeeper, Kevin Davis, almost everyone rushed to the front of the Forest team's goal, ready to snatch the ball.
Johansson stayed in the center circle according to the predetermined strategy, waiting for a counterattack. He looked at the empty surroundings with a puzzled expression. What's wrong with Wimbledon? The game has not even been 60 minutes, and they're already so desperate? But this was also an opportunity. If he used this opportunity to shoot and score, it would be useless no matter how crazy they were.
He clenched his fists. Harewood had already scored two goals. How could he not score a goal?
So he stood on the center line, ready to sprint at any time. Then he turned his head to look at his team's crowded goal.
Wimbledon's midfielder, Damien Francis, sent a corner kick, and Legtwood, who was in front, headed the ball! The Forest team's penalty area was suddenly in chaos. In this chaotic situation, Dean Lewinton, who was lying in ambush at the back, suddenly rushed out and headed the ball!
"The ball's in! Wimbledon has pulled a goal back! Dean Lewinton! This is the first official game he's played this season. He's brought hope to Wimbledon! "
Hundreds of infatuated Wimbledon fans set off a celebratory frenzy in their stands. Lewinton was pressed under the bodies of his crazy teammates, celebrating the goal that gave them confidence and hope.
Seeing the other side celebrating the goal, Johansson waved his hands helplessly. This was great. He was already standing at the kickoff point. There was no need for him to walk away. He could just wait here for the kickoff.
From the moment Wimbledon was about to take the corner kick, Tang En had leaned out from the manager's seat and focused on the field. Seeing Lewinton's goal, he shrugged in disappointment, feeling that it was a pity. Instead, the commotion next door was too big. Manager Murdoch rushed to the side of the field with his arms raised high, then rushed back from the side of the field, hugging everyone he saw. The substitutes' bench was in jubilation.
Tang En turned his head to look at them a few times, then muttered unhappily, "It's just a goal, and they're so happy. How useless!"
Of course, this goal had also sounded the alarm for him. Wimbledon's offense was like a tidal wave, and their pressing in the front field made his team miserable. In these ten minutes, Ian Jess had not performed at all. It was time to replace him.
Tang En decided to bring on a defensive midfielder to regain control of the midfield. He would first beat down Wimbledon's arrogance before anything else. He asked Walker to call Eugen` Bopp, who had been warming up, over.
The nineteen-year-old Eugen Bopp was not British, but German. Moreover, he was a German born in Ukraine. He was a product of Bayern Munich's youth academy and had once been selected for the Germany U16 national team. He was specially poached from Germany by Paul Hart. Last season, when he first arrived in Nottingham, he represented the First Team 19 times and scored a goal.
Tang En believed in Paul Hart's judgment of people. The kid was indeed not bad. A height of 1.83 meters and a weight of 81 kilograms, coupled with the traditional German football training he received from a young age, gave him an indomitable will and a tough and tough style of play. And these characteristics happened to be what Tang En needed most in this match.
Ever since Tang En took over, Bopp had only played a full ninety-minute match. He thought he would gradually lose his position under the new manager's appointment. So, when he heard Walker call his name, he hurriedly ran back. Tang En was very satisfied with the German kid's attitude. He nodded and began to explain the tactics. "Eugen, do you see what our situation is on the field now?"
"It's not looking good, Coach …" the kid said in broken English. "They're snatching … very fiercely, very quickly."
Tang En smiled. "That's right. They're snatching very fiercely, and their tempo is even faster than ours. So, I'll let you play. You and Smeka will partner in the middle of the midfield. Your main task is to defend. Their number 26 (Leokirk) and number 8 (Francis) are the core. Be it defense or offense, it will all be initiated by those two. I want you to go up and cut off the connection between them. At the same time, crazily … even crazier than Wimbledon to snatch in the midfield. Don't be afraid of mistakes. The more chaotic the midfield, the better. Can you do it? "
Bopp nodded with every sentence Tang En spoke. Finally, he nodded vigorously. "Don't worry, Coach. I can do it. " He hoped to use his performance to impress this head coach and win a bright future for himself in the team.
He patted the kid's shoulder and told him to go back to undress and prepare to go on the field. Meanwhile, Tang En picked up a bottle of water from the side of the field, intending to take a sip to douse the fire in his heart. He had just twisted the cap off when he glanced at the technical area next door. That annoying head coach had jumped up again.
Hmm?
He turned back abruptly and saw the Wimbledon people celebrating on the field.
What's going on? What's going on? Are they still celebrating that goal? He raised his head to look at the big screen on the field. The score was clearly displayed on it — 2: 2!
F * ck! It hasn't even been five minutes! Tang En was instantly enraged. He threw the bottle of water in his hand forcefully. The splashing water landed on the body of the fourth referee. The fourth referee had yet to react and was stunned on the spot. Tang En hurriedly pretended not to see it. He quickly walked back to the technical area and asked Walker what had just happened.
"Francis's long shot …" Walker answered weakly.
"What a f * cking bastard!" Tang En cursed. He did not know what else to say. At that moment, Pope, who had just taken off his singlet, was at a loss as he stood on the substitutes' bench. He plucked up his courage to ask the head coach, who appeared to be in a bad mood.
"Coach … Am, am I still going on?"
"Of course! Why not? Go up there and shove those bastards! "He pushed Bopp out.
Seeing Murdoch jumping and jumping on the sidelines, Tang En's mood worsened. No one would feel good if a two-goal lead turned into a draw.
Pope stood on the sidelines, filled with anticipation and enthusiasm, doing his final warm-up. He suddenly heard the head coach call him again.
"Ogen, shove their feet! Don't be afraid of fouling. If you get sent off, I'll go to the Football Association and make a scene! "Tang En cupped his hands around his mouth and made a trumpet shape as he shouted," Anyway, I'm familiar with this … "
He was determined not to allow today's victory to turn into a draw. Perhaps Walker thought it was nothing — they could just wait another round or two. But Tang En did not want to wait even a minute. That day in the Forest bar, when he said to Burns that he hated failure, he was definitely not faking it. He really, really, really hated failure. As a China football fan, how many failures had he faced?
In China, whether it was football or my life, they were all a mess and a complete failure! Now, God has given me a chance to start all over again. I will never taste the taste of failure again. I want to win! I want to f * cking keep winning!
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