Sorry, I forgot to post it on time today …
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A large-scale artistic performance was going on in the field section of the Luzhniki Stadium, but Shania, who was sitting in the box, did not care about it. She was only here to watch the game. She did not even go out shopping.
She just wanted the game to start early, because if the game did not start, Uncle Tony would stay in that mysterious locker room and not come out.
Fortunately, the artistic performance soon came to an end. As the fans at the scene pushed the cheers to another level, the starting players of the two teams finally lined up and walked out of the tunnel.
The glittering silver championship trophy was placed directly opposite the exit, separating the two teams. The Chelsea players could not help but turn their heads to look at the trophy when they passed by. It was the first time many people in the team had a chance to come into contact with this honor. Ninety minutes, or a hundred and twenty minutes, or even more, would they be able to pick up the trophy with their own hands?
The Nottingham Forest players were also looking at the trophy, their eyes flashing with a fanatical light. The boss was right. Since the restructuring of the Champions League, no team has been able to successfully defend its title. Why can't we create history and miracles again? Nottingham Forest is a miraculous team, appearing on this stage to create history and miracles. Otherwise, what are we doing here?
When the players of the two teams entered, Tang En led the rest of the coaching staff and the substitutes out from the side. There was a group of Nottingham Forest fans near the Forest team's technical area. When they saw Tang En come out, they shouted excitedly, "Tony!! Hey, Tony! "
Tang En heard their shouts and turned around to wave. His expression was serious.
"You know what we want! Champion! Champion! "
The group of fans howled as they watched Tang En come to the technical area.
Then Tang En stood there. The rain was slightly lighter, but it still gradually soaked his clothes and hair. He had no intention of sitting back in the technical area to hide from the rain. His players were lined up on the field to take pictures and carry out some necessary pre-match rituals.
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"He's so cool." Gloria, who was sitting next to Shania, whistled.
Shania looked alertly at the strong Hollywood woman who had come to Moscow with her to watch the game.
Noticing Shania's small action, Gloria smiled. "Don't you think so?"
"He's a fool. He's not cool at all." Shania pursed her lips.
Gloria's smile turned to laughter.
"Both of you are fools, haha!"
Shania pouted. It was not that she did not want to retort, but she felt that she really could not …
"Do you need my help, Shania?" Gloria winked at Shania.
Shania knew what she was talking about, but she shook her head. "No, thank you, Chris. But I want to solve it myself … "
Seeing that the little girl was so persistent, Gloria stopped talking.
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As the captain of Nottingham Forest, George Wood lost the coin toss with the Chelsea captain, Terry, so Chelsea obtained the right to pick the side, while Nottingham Forest obtained the right to kick off.
The crowd from the cultural performance had long since dispersed. The players from both sides had finished taking photos and stood in their formation on the field. A big battle was on the verge of breaking out.
It was not until the whistle rang that Tang En turned around and returned to his seat. His suit had long been drenched by the rain. Dunn handed him a dry towel to wipe the water off his face.
"It's exactly as we predicted," Tang En said to Dunn with a smile after observing Chelsea's starting eleven. Although he said it was "we," in fact, Dunn was the one who guessed correctly in the controversial positions. The standard of a genuine football manager was indeed different.
"I'm afraid it won't be good to blindly pay attention to 'surprise' in this kind of final." Dunn had his own reasons and considerations. "Grant is not a gambler, or rather, not a pure gambler. At times like this, he still cares more about 'stability.' "
Tang En nodded in agreement.
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"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the 07-08 UEFA Champions League! The two opposing sides are Nottingham Forest and Chelsea from England. The latter is the first time in the club's history that they have reached the Champions League final, while the former is the defending champion. This is an 'English civil war.' Chelsea and Nottingham Forest have a lot of grievances in the domestic league. For example, the most famous one is that ever since Tony Twain led Nottingham Forest back to the English Premier League, Chelsea has never beaten them in the league and Champions League. Perhaps this is a little curse? In this sense, Chelsea may be at a certain psychological disadvantage when facing Nottingham Forest in this game. "
But at the pre-match press conference, Grant had already denied this bullsh * t psychological disadvantage. He did not want to talk about this embarrassing record at all. The reason was simple. It was not that he felt humiliated by not beating Nottingham Forest, but because it was a bad debt left by the former Mourinho. He felt he had no obligation to repay the debt of the outgoing Mourinho.
He also did not mention in the locker room before the game about how many games Chelsea had not beaten Nottingham Forest. Perhaps this might arouse the players' fighting spirit, but Grant was afraid that it would backfire and cause the players to fall into a real psychological disadvantage. After all, he was not an expert in mobilizing the players' emotions with his eloquence in the locker room.
He told his players that Nottingham Forest's most threatening offensive means were their two flanks, so Tony Twain would consciously strengthen the team's offense on the flanks in this final. Chelsea also had to focus on the flanks when defending, and they had to go tit-for-tat with them — Nottingham Forest goes on the flanks, and we go on the flanks.
At the beginning of the game, it was as Grant had expected. Nottingham Forest took advantage of their kickoff and resolutely launched an attack through the two flanks from the beginning.
In the fifth minute, Gareth Bale actively plugged forward and passed the ball from the flank. The football hit the leg of Essien, who was playing as a guest right back, and it changed its course and went straight to the near corner of the goal. Fortunately, Čech had not moved his position and immediately fell to the ground to stop the football. Other than the Chelsea fans in the stands gasping in shock, there was no other loss.
"Ah!" Bale looked depressed. He held his head in his hands. If the ball had somehow gone in, the final might have been easier to play.
He was still upset, but George Wood was already shouting his name in the distance, "Go back, Bale!" He was asking Bale to return to defend because the ball did not go out of the end line and was directly caught by Čech. Van Nistelrooy interfered with Čech in front of him and did not let him launch a quick counterattack. But he could not go too far, which would attract the referee's "attention."
Čech bypassed van Nistelrooy and threw the football to Essien. Chelsea was going to counterattack from this side.
In response to Nottingham Forest's flank attack before the game, Grant asked the whole team to be tit-for-tat. What was tit-for-tat? It meant that if Nottingham Forest launched an attack from the left, then once we intercepted the ball, we would immediately launch a counterattack on their left, our right, and hit the gap after the full backs plugged in. Success was a chance to directly threaten the opponent's goal. Even if it was not successful, it could also make the Forest team's two full backs sprint back and forth and run for their lives. They simply could not persist in such a high-intensity game for ninety minutes. When their stamina dropped, their movements changed, and they lost focus, it would be Chelsea's chance.
Seeing Essien get the ball, Ribéry rushed up to the front field to intercept and interfere. At the same time, Gareth Bale did not dare to waste time in the front field. He turned and dashed back to defend.
Tang En had certainly expected Grant to do so. It was not a remarkable tactic. Teams all over the world who liked to use full backs to assist would use the same trick. Nottingham Forest's flank attack was world-famous. The two attacking full backs were even more well-known. Only a fool would not use the gap behind them to plug in to assist. But he could not restrict the two full backs and ask them not to assist. That would be equivalent to crippling their own martial arts. Therefore, Tang En's countermeasure was to set up layers of defense, from the front line to the front defensive line, and then to the rear defensive line. He would counterattack and interfere on the spot, giving the full backs who came up to assist time to return to defend.
As for stamina, he was not very worried. Gareth Bale and Rafinha were both young players. Their stamina and speed were both on the rise. As long as the team grasped the situation on the field, they would not necessarily be particularly tired.
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Bale's attack was only a probing attack. Chelsea also followed up with a probing attack, and then both sides began to tacitly focus on defense. No one wanted to concede a goal at the beginning of the game. This was the finals. Conceding a goal meant too many possibilities. Whether it was Tang En or Grant, they did not want the game to develop beyond their expectations.
Although it was mainly defense, the game was not dull. It was just that there were no goals scored. The two sides fought fiercely.
Nottingham Forest's fine-tuning of the formation made Chelsea feel uncomfortable and a little awkward. Van der Vaart's header was very forward and could almost be considered a "shadow striker." In this way, he was clearly a greater threat to Chelsea's goal than being dragged behind with George Wood. In addition, Ribéry and Lennon withdrew inward and were in the flanks of Chelsea's entire formation. This position made it very difficult for them to defend — between the center backs and full backs, it was a little similar to the urban-rural fringe.
Therefore, during this period of time, the initiative on the field was firmly in Nottingham Forest's hands. Fifteen minutes later, Nottingham Forest began to use this initiative to increase the intensity of the attack.
In the sixteenth minute, after Ribéry received Wood's pass, he forced a breakthrough from the flanks and shot, which was saved by Čech.
In the next two minutes, Bale plugged in again to assist. He received Ribéry's distribution of the ball and raised his leg to pass. Unfortunately, no one in the penalty area was in place. The football streaked over the penalty area and flew directly to the other side. Chelsea intercepted the ball and took advantage of the situation to counterattack.
After Ashley Cole received the football, he planned a counterattack.
He first used a feint to shake off Lennon, who came up to intercept, and then decisively passed the football to Ballack after he saw that the Forest players wanted to intercept on the spot.
After Ballack got the football, he leaned on van der Vaart and took a look at the situation on the field.
Chelsea had to admit that the Forest team's change of formation caught them off guard. But Twain also had to admit that it was a little risky for him to do so — he relied too much on George Wood. With van der Vaart, Ribéry and Lennon's positions all forward, the back half of the midfield was basically guarded by Wood alone. As long as the opponent used a pass to divert him away, they could pass through the midfield without any resistance and face Nottingham Forest's rear defensive line. For Chelsea, which had many long-range shooting masters, facing the rear defensive line was also considered entering the shooting range.
Makelele and Lampard both ran forward, and George Wood chose to defend against Lampard. After all, in terms of offense, Lampard was a much more threatening threat than Makelele.
When Ballack saw this scene, he did not hesitate to rub the ball under his feet and pass an overhead ball straight to … Makelele!
Wood ran halfway when he saw the situation. He hurriedly braked and turned around to pounce on Makelele.
"Chelsea's counterattack! As long as Makelele can pass the ball to Lampard, he will have space to play! "The commentator shouted.
The football was still in the air when Makelele saw George Wood rushing over in a threatening manner. He knew how powerful Wood was. The attack must not be stopped here. Otherwise, Nottingham Forest would certainly take advantage of the opportunity for them to plug forward and directly attack from the middle.
Fight!
The two men jumped up at the same time in the high-speed run and rushed toward the football.
It looked like Makelele would head the ball first. His rich experience helped him. The charging Wood was not as flexible in the air as he was on the ground. If the other side was destined to head the ball, the only way to stop it was for him to hit Makelele's forehead!
With a muffled sound, the football bounced out and the two men crashed to the ground. Neither stood up.
The referee, Mitchell, blew his whistle. Judging from his hand gesture, it was George Wood who had fouled. The penalty triggered dissatisfaction among the Nottingham Forest players. They thought that with such a fifty-fifty ball and the two colliding, how could the Forest team be judged to have fouled?
The Chelsea players were equally angry. Such a ferocious collision was simply trying to murder Makelele! What are the Forest players protesting here for?
The players of the two teams quickly rushed together and looked like they were about to go all out. The tense atmosphere brought about by the final spread from the first second of the game. Now it was just short of a spark.
"Bastard! What are you doing! "Chelsea's Malouda pushed away the approaching Ribéry. "Do you want to fight?!"
"You f * * king hit our man!" Ribéry wanted to rush up and give the black devil a punch, but he was held tightly by Lampard.
"Push them away!"
"Bale, what are you doing up there?!"
"Damn it, calm down!"
"Look at our players. Who is the one who fouled?" Van Nistelrooy protested loudly to the referee. He pointed to George Wood, who was slowly turning over and sitting up.
The referee followed his gaze and hurriedly gestured for a stretcher to be brought onto the field.
The "iron man," "tough guy," "alien," "future soldier," and "Shrek monster," who had almost never suffered any injuries in the game, covered his eyes with his right hand. Red blood seeped through the gaps between his fingers. Makelele, on the other hand, weakly curled up on the ground with both hands covering his head and a pained expression.
It looked like both men were badly injured.
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"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it — damn it!" Twain paced around in front of the technical area irritably. The team doctor, Fleming, had already run up with the people, followed by a stretcher. "Tell them to calm down! It's only been twenty minutes! Damn it, it's not the first time they've played in a final. Why are they all like barrels of gunpowder?
"Maybe it's because George is actually injured …" Dunn whispered.
There was a "legend" in Nottingham Forest that was not known to outsiders: George Wood was a monster who would never get hurt. There was no one in the world who could beat him on the football field or on the training ground. Although it might be an exaggeration to say so, seeing Wood not at a disadvantage no matter what opponent he confronted, as his teammate, there was a sense of security.
Could it be that the monster's weakness was his head?
"Look at his performance and Makelele's. Who looks more seriously injured?" Twain asked loudly as he pointed to the field.
George Wood sat on the ground with his head drooped and his hand covering the still bleeding wound. But other than that, there was nothing unusual. Makelele, on the other hand, curled up on the ground and seemed to be trembling. Was he convulsing in shock?
God!
The team doctors of both Chelsea and Nottingham Forest had rushed into the crowd. Their arrival helped the managers, who had been badly battered by the quarrel, separate the players from both sides and temporarily calm their emotions. They all turned their attention to their injured teammates. George Wood bled for the first time, while Makelele had a slight concussion.
"This is a very, very violent collision. Both sides don't seem to care about themselves and others. They only have football in their eyes … "The commentator's tone was not as excited as before. Now that the situation of the two men was unknown, it would be terrible if there was an accident.
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Fleming knelt in front of Wood and pried open his hand. Blood dripped down his cheek and onto his clothes.
"There's an opening … Does it hurt?" He asked.
"No." Wood answered in a low voice, as though he was gritting his teeth.
Next to him, Chelsea's team doctor lay in front of Makelele, stretched out three fingers, and called out loudly, "Claude, how many is this? How many is this? "
"Three …" Makelele's faint voice reached George Wood's ears. He did not care that Fleming was examining him and turned his head to look. Chelsea's team doctor was slowly turning his body over to let him lie flat. In the process of turning over, Makelele saw George, and the two men looked at each other. Makelele muttered something and closed his eyes to rest. George Wood did not hear it clearly.
"He said, 'Man, your head is really hard.'" Ribéry crouched down and looked closely at the corner of George Wood's bleeding eye. "How do you feel, George?"
"I don't feel anything."
"Your head is really hard!" Ribéry curled his lips.
"All right, Franck, don't interfere with our work here!" Fleming pushed Ribéry away.
"I'm just showing concern for our superman captain." Ribéry shrugged and stood up. He opened his arms and said loudly to the other teammates, "All right, he's fine. Our captain is a monster through and through! "
"Woo —"
The little monkey Bell laughed.
It was easier on Makelele's side. Makelele, who lay flat on the ground for a while, recovered from the dizziness after the impact. His speech and actions were no longer weak. He slowly sat up and stood up again. He won warm applause and cheers from the Chelsea fans in the stands.
"Makelele! Our tough guy!! "
"Claude, you're the best!"
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Seeing the cheers Makelele received after he stood up, George Wood also jerked up from the ground, startling Fleming, who was examining him.
"Hey, George! What are you doing! "
"I'm fine."
"It's not up to you whether you're fine or not. It's up to me."
The two men looked at each other.
"Your head really doesn't hurt?" Fleming asked.
"It doesn't hurt."
"Do you feel dizzy?"
"No."
Fleming held out a finger and asked, "How many is this?"
"One."
"What's one plus one?"
"Two."
"What's two times two?"
"Four."
"Where are you now?"
"At the Champions League final."
"Well, Ribéry is right. Your head is really hard. But you still have to go down for me to stop the bleeding, change the jersey, and … stitch up the wound. "
The eight volunteers who were in charge of carrying the stretcher had to bitterly drag the stretcher and run down.
After a detailed examination by the team doctor, Makelele continued to stay on the field, while George Wood, accompanied by Fleming, walked off for further treatment.
Behind him, the referee did not forget to show him a yellow card for the foul. His move "won" the boos of tens of thousands of Nottingham Forest fans for himself. Then he "won" the boos of the other half of the people for himself — he showed a yellow card to Malouda, who shoved Ribéry during the conflict.
Both sides would be punished fifty times, and the conflict would be over. Chelsea kicked a free kick at the spot of the foul, while George Wood walked to the sidelines for on-site treatment by the team doctor.
"I'm not going to give you anesthesia. It will affect your performance later. It's a little painful to stitch up the wound. Bear with it. "After dealing with the bloodstains on the wound, Fleming was ready to stitch it up. "Also, don't blink. It's not easy for me to stitch it."
Wood stood obediently in front of Fleming. His eyes were wide open, as if he was glaring at God. He allowed Fleming's hands to flutter above his eyes and the needle and thread in and out of the corners of his eyes. His rough, angular face was expressionless. He did not frown slightly because of the pain, nor did his eyes flicker because of fear. The rain gathered on his brows to form water droplets, as if it was about to drip into his eyes, but he still stared without blinking. He faced the field and watched the two sides in the game intently.
The scene was transmitted to the big screen and television screens at the scene through the television cameras. The Nottingham Forest fans were excited. Even though Chelsea was pressing their team to play, they cheered loudly:
"Wood, Wood! You're the Forest! "
"Captain, well done —!"
"With such a captain, we're not afraid of anyone!!"
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As the team doctor, Fleming was no stranger to such on-site first aid. He did not know how many times he had personally performed this kind of simple suture surgery. But standing in front of George Wood, he suddenly felt his hands tremble a little. He did not know the reason at all. He just felt that his right hand, which was holding the needle, was not as stable as before.
After holding his breath and concentrating on finishing the suture surgery, he wiped the remaining blood on his face with a towel before Fleming heaved a sigh of relief.
"You almost suffocated me to death. George, I can't even feel your breath. Did I just suture a dead man's wound? "He complained.
"Can I play now?" Wood did not pay attention to his complaints and asked.
"No. You still have to change. "Someone had already brought a clean set of jerseys.
Wood did not waste any time. He quickly took off his blood-stained jersey — the originally red jersey had a dark red color where the blood stained it.
"Take off your pants, too." Fleming pointed to his shorts, which were also stained with blood when Wood had been sitting.
Wood bent over to take off his pants. In an instant, he was naked from head to toe except for a pair of white briefs.
Due to the rain, his sturdy muscles glowed a shiny silver under the stadium lights. His fit and beautiful body was like a Renaissance statue of David. Even the simple action of bending over to put on his pants became particularly sexy.
This scene would make many female fans scream excitedly in front of their televisions.
"George Wood changing on the sidelines on the spot. This will definitely become an attention-grabbing piece of gossip on the second day of the game." Seeing that the two players were fine, the commentator was also in the mood to joke. "This serious player was really cool just now!"
George Wood, who had changed into his new jersey, raised his hand on the sidelines. The referee waved and he rushed back to the field.
Fleming, on the other hand, returned to the technical area with a medical kit.
"Such a young kid, but he has such a steady mentality. He's really not simple." He turned back to look at Wood and sighed. "His steadiness actually made me feel a little nervous … What a shame."
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Gary. Only someone like that is qualified to lead my Nottingham Forest on the field, "Tang En added with a smile.
"He's a lion that never admits defeat and is never afraid. He's the king of the forest."
In the rain, George Wood ran into the field with his head held high. Ribéry stretched out his hand in his path. Wood high-fived him as he ran past and returned to his position.
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