Tang En did not know what he said wrong. In short, he felt awkward.
Fortunately, Robson quickly saved Tang En from the awkwardness. He smiled and said, "Maybe, maybe not. You know, Mr. Tang En, I was born in Newcastle, but I didn't have the chance to coach my hometown team until I was 66 years old. Before that, I wandered everywhere. Holland, Portugal, Spain … Mr. Tang En, you're much luckier than me. By the way, do you need the Coaching Association to provide you with legal help for the trouble of being sued? "
Tang En shook his head and declined Robson's good intentions. "Thank you, sir, but I've already found a lawyer who is willing to fight for me."
Robson nodded and said, "That's good. Enjoy the reception and put all your worries aside. I wish you a good time. " With that, Robson and Clough left together, walking toward a group of old men. They were probably the old managers who had coached in England's various teams. Perhaps they were enemies when they were coaches, but that did not stop them from drinking and chatting together after they retired.
Football and life were like that.
No one came to enthusiastically lead him into this circle. Tang En had some doubts about Clough's intentions in bringing him to the reception. He had not received an invitation from the Coaching Association. Was it because Clough was on a whim, or was it because his son, Nigel, had left for something and needed someone to accompany the old man who had just recovered from surgery?
Tang En stood at the door and sized up the lively venue. It was a rather large bar, but it was not as glamorous as Tang En had imagined. It was filled with the atmosphere of the upper class. In reality, it was just a place bigger than the average bar. Everyone gathered together to chat and drink. Some people came in and some went out. It was very casual. Tang En knew some of them. He had seen them on television when he was a fan, or they were opponents he had met after coaching Forest. However, he did not know most of their names and origins.
Ferguson was surrounded by many people. They were all congratulating the English Premier League Manager of the Decade and offering all kinds of compliments. Flattery did not discriminate by country or race. It was popular everywhere. Ferguson accepted the congratulations from others with a smile. Manchester United had overturned Arsenal to win the league title this season, so he was in a good mood.
However, Tang En had no intention of going up to join in the fun. In the first place, he did not know Sir Ford well; in the second, he was a proud man, and did not like to follow the crowd. If everyone was giving Sir Alex the cold shoulder, he would have taken the initiative to congratulate him. However, if most of the people were doing the same thing, he would not have bothered to do so. It was not necessarily because he hated Ferguson and his achievements, but purely because of his personality.
Everyone liked to join in the fun, but he just had to hide in the corner. Just like his fixed seat at the Forest Bar, which was in the innermost corner, today he walked around to a deserted corner and looked at the group of people in front of him coldly. He did not have the slightest excitement of stepping into this circle. These people were the managers of professional teams, real managers, and what was he … a dismissed substitute.
Ferguson was the center of attention in the room. Even in front of those old men who had succeeded and retired, he still had his place.
Tang En casually found an empty seat and slowly sipped the wine in his cup. He was so bored that he played the game of "finding acquaintances" to see how many faces he could recognize.
He recognized many of the faces he had only heard of before but rarely seen. However, he did not see the two foreign managers in the crowd. One was the Chelsea manager, Claudio Ranieri, who was in the midst of a takeover rumor. Perhaps many people in the room still did not know what was about to happen, but Tang En knew that the tinker would soon become the focus of their jealousy. Today was June 27th. If he remembered correctly, on July 1st or 2nd, Chelsea would officially announce to the outside world that Abramovich had officially become the new owner of the London club. Bates had bought Chelsea Football Club for only one pound. Now he had sold it for 60 million, and all his other debts had been cleared. It was a good deal. Tang En felt a little regretful. Why didn't he travel back in time to 1982 and spend a pound to buy Chelsea before this Jew did?
The other was Ferguson's nemesis in the English Premier League for ten years, the Arsenal manager, the Frenchman José Wenger.
Tang En thought about it again. It was completely normal that Wenger was not around. The Frenchman was almost incompatible with the entire English football circle. He never sat down for a drink with his opponent's manager after a game. Even though it was a tradition in English football, the "Professor" Wenger had no intention of abiding by it. In his view, many of the traditions in English football were rotten and a chronic disease that hindered the development of football in this country.
Tang En agreed wholeheartedly. He also did not think it was a good tradition for everyone to smoke and drink during halftime to discuss how to play the second half.
Just as Tang En was in a daze, another person appeared beside him. "May I ask if there's anyone here?" he asked politely. Tang En did not react. He shook his head reflexively.
"Thank you." The person sat down and extended his hand to Tang En to introduce himself. "Hello, I'm David Moyes."
Hearing the name, Tang En's body trembled slightly. He pulled himself out of his reverie and turned his head to look at the young manager in front of him with some surprise. Slightly pale skin, a thin pointed face, light brown short hair, gray eyes … It was really the Everton manager, David Moyes!
"Ah! Hello, I'm Tony Twain. Nice to meet you. "Tang En hurriedly extended his hand in response.
"Me too." Pulling his hand back, Moyes took out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat on his forehead. "Why are you sitting here alone?"
"I don't really like to join in the crowd …" Tang En shrugged. Then, he suddenly remembered he had forgotten something. "Congratulations on winning last season's Best Manager."
"Thank you." Moyes smiled slightly shyly. Last season was his first time managing a Premier League team. He did not expect it to allow him to achieve success and recognition. Tang En had a good impression of this young manager because he had once followed Everton's matches. Everton had received a sponsorship from the Chinese company Kejian in the 02-03 season. Two Chinese players came to the team for a trial. In the end, Li Tie succeeded in staying, wearing an Everton jersey with Chinese characters printed on the chest to compete in the Premier League.
Tang En did not know what to say next. The atmosphere should have fallen into an awkward silence, but Moyes suddenly raised his voice. "I remember now, Mr. Tang … You're the manager of Nottingham Forest!"
These words hit a sore spot for Tang En. He shook his head and smiled bitterly. "I was."
"Although I'm already managing a Premier League team, my family still often follows Preston's matches. My eldest son is a loyal fan of Preston. Sometimes, he will tell me about Preston's opponents, but the one he talks about the most is Nottingham Forest. Do you know why? "
Tang En did not answer. He only raised his head to look at the smiling Moyes.
"Because Forest has an impressive manager. That's what my son said. Forest is the team with the greatest difference in performance between the first and second half of the season. If you're worried about where to go, why not go to Preston? I believe the people there will welcome you. "
Preston's name was not among the three phone numbers in Tang En's pocket. But Moyes's words made him a little tempted. He sat in his seat, deep in thought. Moyes did not disturb him, only drinking his wine.
At that moment, Tang En saw Clough waving at him from the crowd in front of him. He hurriedly apologized to Moyes. "I'm so sorry, the boss is calling me. Nice to meet you. "
Moyes shook hands with him. "Me too. I hope we can meet on the field one day. It must be very exciting!"
After bidding farewell to Moyes, Tang En walked to Clough's side. He found two yellow-skinned and black-haired people standing beside the old man. One was a man and the other was a woman. They looked like reporters. "What's the matter, boss?"
"Yes. Help me call Bobby over."
Tang En nodded, but most of his attention was on the woman. She looked very young, in her twenties. She wore a light gray suit and a tight short skirt, revealing a pair of slender legs. The only thing that Tang En did not like was the woman's short hair. As her back was to him, he could not see how her face looked. Tang En glanced at her and then turned to look for Robson.
The old manager was actually quite easy to find because his silver hair was too eye-catching. Tang En brought Robson to Clough's side. Clough pointed at Robson and said to the two reporters, "These two Chinese reporters asked me why I let you become the manager of the England national team back then." When Greenwood left his position as the manager of the England national team in 1982, the calls for him to take over were louder than anyone else. But in the end, it was Bobby Robson who became the manager.
Hearing that Old Manager Robson had arrived, the two reporters turned their heads. Only then could Tang En see the female reporter's face clearly. When he saw the lightly powdered face, Twain breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, it was not the type that was popular in the country, "Looking from the back makes you want to commit a crime, looking from the front makes you want to defend yourself." Her facial features were exquisite and very oriental. She was indeed a Chinese. As for the other male reporter, he was automatically ignored by Tang En.
When the two reporters saw Robson arrive, they appeared a little excited. Naturally, Tang En was also ignored by them.
Hearing Clough's question, Old Robson laughed out loud. "Because everyone knows you don't want to play with those bastards from the Football Association!"
The reporters laughed along with him. Tang En stood behind them, silent and low-key like a follower. All his eyes were on the beautiful Chinese female reporter. Seeing her covering her mouth and smiling happily, he felt that he did not come for nothing today. Having the appreciation of a beautiful woman was better than looking up at all the men.
The two Chinese reporters chatted with Robson for a while and left in satisfaction. Tang En's "beauty appreciation tour" came to an end. Next, he returned to the corner again. Moyes had already been dragged away to celebrate his first individual award. Seeing the thirty-nine-year-old Moyes being surrounded by people, he revealed the smile of a winner. Tang En felt a little sour in his heart. He had never thought of himself as weaker than others. But this time, he had lost at the starting line.
He hated failure and did not want to be a loser. But in today's match, he was the biggest loser. Tang En did not understand why Clough had brought him here. Seeing these people talking and boasting in high spirits, he felt unhappy. Ferguson, Eriksson, Moyes … Among these big-name managers, he did not have the slightest thought of chasing after their stars. Because he saw all of them as his opponents.
One day, Tang En would defeat each and every one of them! This was not the wild talk of an ignorant kid. It was a vow he swore in the depths of his heart.
Considering his health, Brian Clough bid farewell to Tang En after the lunch buffet at noon. Everyone came out to send them off enthusiastically, but almost everyone ignored Tang En, who was beside Clough. To these professional managers, they had seen too many newcomers like Tang En. No one would take him seriously.
In this circle, if you wanted to win everyone's attention, if you wanted others to revolve around you, if you wanted to gain their recognition, you had to show some results.
In fact, Tang En really wanted to ask Clough why he had brought him here in the car. But once they got on the car, the old man leaned against the back seat and dozed off. With his light snores, they returned from Sheffield to Nottingham.
Tang En told Nigel that there was no need to go straight back to his home. He wanted to go to Forest's training base to take a look.
When the car stopped at the entrance of Forest's youth training camp, Tang En said goodbye to Nigel. Then he looked at his boss, whose eyes were squinted and seemed to be sleeping soundly. He opened the car door and prepared to get out. At that moment, Clough's old and muffled voice rang out from behind him. "Kid."
Tang En turned around to look at Clough, whose eyes were still tightly shut.
"Nowadays, many people still talk about my achievements and glory in this city from time to time." Clough leaned against the seat, his lips moving as he mumbled, "I led the team to win two UEFA Champions League titles, one Premier League title, four EFL Cups, one UEFA Super Cup title, and 42 consecutive matches without a loss … What do you think of these results?"
Tang En replied, "Great."
"Then, losing three out of six matches, setting the club's second-worst record as a manager in history, and retiring after 44 days. What do you think of these results? "
"Uh …" Tang En did not know how to answer the question.
"Nowadays, there are very few people who bring up my past as a manager at Leeds United …" The old man sighed. That might be one of the few regrets in his coaching career. "Let's go home, Nigel."
From the beginning to the end, the old man did not open his eyes.
Tang En said goodbye to the two and got out of the car. Then, he stood by the side of the road and watched the white Ford disappear at the end of the avenue. The wind it brought along ruffled his hair and clothes. He thought … there was no longer a need to wonder why the boss had brought him to the Managers' Association reception.
Because he already had an answer in his heart.
No matter what my final choice is, I still want to thank you, boss. This is the second time you've helped me …
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