Tang En threw George Wood's psychological counseling job to Eastwood. It was not a very tricky job.
Eastwood thought about it carefully and realized that Wood had never experienced anything like this before. Sometimes, people would wonder if his heart was really made of oak and as hard and stubborn as iron.
All this while, Nottingham Forest had been relying on the Heart of Oak to keep the team running at a high speed. Now that there was a problem with his heart, the team's performance would naturally be affected.
Eastwood was troubled by his lack of experience. Not to mention the fact that he was not on good terms with Wood, even if this did not happen, he would not know what to do in front of Wood.
He had been thinking about this for the whole day. Judging from the frown on his face, it seemed like he had not come up with a good solution.
Eastwood had originally planned to look for Wood directly, so he went straight to the point and said, "Let's talk about your recent decline in form …"
But on second thought, it did not seem to be effective. He could not decide whether Wood would listen to him or not.
Just like that, he ended his first day of work as a coach.
When he got home, he was still frowning, which shocked Thermim. "Did something unpleasant happen on your first day as a manager?"
"There's nothing to be unhappy about, but there's something that bothers me …" Eastwood recounted the mission that Tang En had given him.
Thermim looked at her husband with a faint smile. "You men are such strange creatures. Freddy, do you really hate Wood? "
Eastwood thought about it. It was not that he hated him to the core. Otherwise, he would not have played for this team until his retirement. But it would be a lie to say that he did not feel anything. Anyone who encountered something like this would not be able to pretend that nothing had happened.
"Hate? I don't know … but I definitely don't like it. "Eastwood shook his head.
"Did you quarrel with Wood in the team? Did you fight with him? Did you have any conflicts?"
Eastwood was curious why his wife would ask such a question. "Don't you know me, Thermim? I'm not that kind of person … I just don't talk to him much. "
A deck of poker cards appeared in Thermim's hands. "Do you want to calculate?"
Eastwood pursed his lips. "You're good at tricking tourists, Thermim."
She ignored her husband and continued to play with the cards in her hand. After a while she looked up and said to Eastwood, "I think you'd better fight Wood face to face."
"This is the result of your calculations?" Eastwood felt that he really shouldn't discuss work matters with his wife.
"That's why I said that men are stupid creatures." Thermim slowly fiddled with the poker cards on the table. "If Rahim had made a very serious mistake, I would have beaten him up instead of treating him coldly. And he would be more than happy to accept a beating, rather than his mother not speaking to him for the rest of his life. "
Eastwood was dismissive of his wife's remarks. "Raheem is your child, but George Wood is not my son."
"Sometimes men and boys have something in common. If you don't want to fight him face to face, you can find a time and place to fight him in private, like knights throwing white gloves at each other. "Thermim snapped his fingers and retrieved the cards. "I'll go see if Saldonie is asleep."
Eastwood was left alone in the living room. At first, he laughed at his wife's lousy idea. But after laughing at it in his heart, he realized that it seemed to make sense …
Since he did not know how to talk to Wood, he might as well use the hard way.
Based on his understanding of Wood, he knew that he was not a person who beat around the bush. 'You talk a lot of high-sounding nonsense, but it doesn't work at all, and it's a waste of your expression.
'Fine … I'll pick a fight.'
Eastwood clenched his fists, and his knuckles cracked.
※ ※ ※
The next day, before leaving for Wilford, Eastwood rehearsed his "fierce" expression in front of the mirror in the bathroom for a while.
He was a gentle person, and he was very popular. He always had a smile on his face when he was in the team and joked with the people around him. Everyone liked such an optimistic and cheerful teammate, so almost no one would give him a hard time. Therefore, the impression they had of Eastwood was that he was a good person who would never be fierce to anyone.
Now that he had to play the role of the bad guy, it was indeed a bit difficult for him …
"Wood! What are you doing?! "
Eastwood shook his head, as if his tone was not fierce enough.
"Did you not eat last night?! You look so weak! "
"Look at what you're doing, are you really training?"
"Fine, you're actually not good enough … No, no! It's bad! Very bad! It's f * cking terrible! "
…
Eastwood shook his head in the end and walked out of the bathroom. If he did not come out soon, his daughter, Saldoni, who was having dinner with him, would knock on the door.
Throughout breakfast, Saldoni looked at her husband who had a lot on his mind and smiled.
When he sent him out of the door, Saldoni kissed him on the cheek and said, "I wish you all the best."
"I'm not sure …" Eastwood said without much confidence.
※ ※ ※
George Wood changed his clothes in the changing room with a dark expression on his face. He had been in a bad mood recently. The people around him did not dare to talk to him. Even an old friend like Bale did not try to provoke him at this time.
Everyone knew the kind of pressure the captain was shouldering. The media was hyping that George Wood was the culprit behind Eastwood's early retirement. It was as if they wanted Wood to take responsibility for Eastwood. If this happened in Korea, they would probably ask George Wood to cut his finger as an apology …
In fact, everyone knew that Carl Spicer was right. Eastwood's first serious injury was because of Wood's foul, but it was an unintentional mistake. However, it was an unintentional mistake after all. It would be too unkind to dig it out after ten years … To be more serious, it was simply malicious.
The media would not investigate the reason behind the injury. They only knew that the incident was worth hyping up, so they followed up on it …
As for the readers, they also lacked basic judgment. Or rather, they did not want to judge who was right and who was wrong. As long as there was something interesting to watch, life was good enough.
To make matters worse, the next match would be Tony Twain's tenth anniversary as manager of Nottingham Forest. The team wanted to use a victory in that match to present their boss as a gift. However, the team's current state and a strong opponent like Liverpool made that match bode ill for them.
Liverpool was also paying close attention to Forest's movements. Benítez must be happy to see the cracks and turmoil in Forest. After playing against Twain for so many years, he also realized that the easiest way to defeat Twain was to hope that the seemingly indestructible castle from the outside had problems from the inside.
George Wood's state was fluctuating and fluctuating. This was a golden opportunity that came once in a hundred years …
Liverpool's local media had already released harsh words that they would disrupt Tony Twain's tenth anniversary at Anfield.
"How long he's been in charge of Forest has nothing to do with us. We just want a victory."
Wood was the captain. He certainly knew that his state affected the team. But he just couldn't pick it up and put it down like it was air. He did feel guilty towards Eastwood, and it had been for ten years. It was just that he was not good at expressing his emotions, especially after he became the captain. He always wanted to leave an image of a "dignified" captain for his teammates, so some things were not easy to say.
Wood spent the day's training with a heavy heart.
Kerslake watched anxiously from the side. He said to Twain more than once, "I think George listens to you the most. Wouldn't it solve the problem if you spoke up? Why do you have to do this? "
Twain had a profound expression on his face. "There's a saying in China: whoever tied the bell on the bell needs to untie it."
"What do you mean?" Kerslake could not understand Chinese.
"You reap what you sow. The two of them are destined to be together." Twain let out a long sigh. "They're bound together."
"What are you doing, Tony? Did you get hit in the head again? "
"Aiya, just wait and watch the show. Outsiders can't interfere in their affairs. "Twain always said something that Kerslake could understand. "It's so tiring talking to you!"
"Can't you just speak like a human?"
※ ※ ※
After the training ended, Wood gave himself another half an hour of extra training as usual. The other players had all returned to the locker room. The members of the coaching staff were already used to this scene. No one stayed on the field to watch Wood.
When Wood was the only one left on the field, he decided to temporarily forget about his troubles and train seriously. The quiet environment helped him do so.
Just as he was about to start, a football smashed into the back of his head.
The force of the kick was not light. In a match, it was probably a powerful volley. Wood was a little dazed from the hit. He held his head and looked back angrily at the "murderer."
"Looks like my footwork is still there. Should I really consider withdrawing my decision to retire and return to the field?"
Eastwood completely ignored Wood's angry gaze. He stood in the same spot and held his chin as he muttered to himself.
After seeing that it was Eastwood, Wood's anger suddenly began to dissipate. It had always been like this in the team. Eastwood had never given Wood a good look, but Wood had never been fierce to him.
"Don't look at me. This is not an accident. I did it on purpose." Eastwood walked unsteadily to Wood and picked up the football that had bounced on the ground. He grabbed it with one hand and shook it in front of Wood's eyes.
"I've never hidden your disgust, have I?" Eastwood asked. In fact, he did not expect Wood to answer, but Wood nodded his head. This surprised him a little.
"Uh … Well, I'm not interested in knowing how you see me. It's a miracle that we were able to play together for ten years. Do you know, every time I see your nonchalant face, I want to throw myself at you and punch you? This thought was particularly strong when I was injured recently … Unfortunately, I can't beat you. "
Wood did not defend himself, nor did he refute. He listened quietly.
Eastwood was actually quite nervous. He was reciting the lines that he had spent a day preparing … At the same time, he had to make his tone sound mixed with complex emotions such as anger and disdain. This was the best way he could think of — to have a good talk with Wood. He didn't have to fight like a man, but he could express his anger like a man and let Wood feel it.
"You're so strong …" Eastwood looked Wood up and down. "You don't know fatigue. You never know what it's like to be injured. You don't know how it feels after being injured. No one can hurt you or make you suffer. You're not like a human … If someone wants to violate you, they'll be the unlucky one in the end, but you act as if nothing happened and wonder why the other party is injured … "Eastwood became more and more agitated as he spoke. At first, he just tried to make himself look angry, but as he spoke, he was really angry.
That's right! Why is it that we're both human? You, George Wood, can have such an enviable body, but my knees are so weak? Why!
"You … Do you think, do you think I'm willing to choose to retire?" The football in Eastwood's hand had long disappeared. He took a step forward and approached Wood, glaring at him. "I'm only thirty years old! A professional player's golden age is not over. Why should I retire? Do you think I'll be satisfied standing in the middle of the City Ground stadium to enjoy their last cheer and say some touching bullshit? I don't want this bullshit farewell! I'd rather play football for the rest of my life! "
It had completely deviated from the prepared lines …
"Look at you! Look at you! "Eastwood suddenly grabbed Wood's collar and roared with his mouth wide open. "You have such a healthy body, enviable … But you f * cking act like shit! If I had a healthy body like yours, do you know how hard I'd train and play, how grateful and how much I'd cherish it? You bastard! Rotten person! Are you mocking me? 'You see, I have a strong and healthy body, but I purposely act like a piece of sh * t, just to disgust idiots like you who retire at the age of thirty!' "
"I …"
Wood finally opened his mouth and wanted to say something.
But in the storm of Eastwood's anger, his voice was drowned out.
"Now I really want to give you a good beating! Even if I can't beat you, I still want to beat you! "Eastwood exerted force with his hands and actually pushed George Wood to the ground. His eyes widened in anger and his body trembled. He clenched his fists, but in the end, he did not smash them down.
"I really have no f * cking balls … I have no balls to give up my professional career because I'm afraid of getting hurt again and I don't dare to continue playing football." Eastwood seemed to be drained of all his strength at once. He lowered his hands and murmured with his head down. "I'm only thirty years old …"
He suddenly raised his head again and glared at Wood who was lying on the ground. "Do you know what it feels like to be injured there? The part below the knee doesn't seem to belong to your body. You can't feel anything. Lying in bed in the middle of the night and thinking that you can't continue playing football … Do you know what kind of feeling that is? "At this point, he paused for a moment and a look of realization appeared on his face. "That's right, why did I say this to you? Why did I say this to a robot who has never been injured before? Did I become muddled from anger? "
He shook his head and planned to turn around and leave.
"Not only do I have no balls, I'm also a fool …"
"You …"
Wood got up from the ground and said somewhat helplessly, "How about … you beat me, if this … this can make you … feel better …"
Eastwood suddenly turned around and rushed in front of him, almost touching his face and roaring angrily, "What is this? A winner's sympathy for a loser? I don't f * cking need your sympathy! "
He took another step back and continued to stare at Wood. "Retirement is my own choice, and it has nothing to do with you! What are you sympathizing with me for? You piece of sh * t! What kind of expression is that? Do you see the expression of an idiot and a poor guy? You think I'm very sad, right? Ah, I know, I know what you're thinking in your heart – he can't play football, it's really pitiful … "
"No, I didn't …"
"Shut up! So what if he retired? So what if he can't play football? I'm the coach now. You better be careful, b * stard! If you dare to continue this kind of bullsh * t performance, next time I'll call you a piece of sh * t in front of the whole team! Do you think I can't do it? " Eastwood suddenly sneered. "I've always been unhappy with you. You'd better not give me a chance, boy."
After leaving these harsh words, Eastwood flew away from the training ground. If he didn't leave, he was afraid that tears would come out of his eyes.
He really hated Wood. He didn't hate Wood for injuring him with a shovel, but he hated why Wood had such a healthy and strong body, while his knees were so weak … He hated fate for being unfair, and he hated himself for being powerless.
When he grabbed Wood's clothes and roared, in the depths of his heart, there was also a voice roaring unwillingly, "Don't be like this!
I want to continue playing football! I want to continue playing football …
Why, why do I have to retire at the age of 30? Why can't I have a healthy body like that bastard? Why … why do I have to say those bullsh * t words to him here!
Eastwood, who returned to the car, did not drive away. He sat in the driver's seat and hung his head, feeling deeply tired.
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