Yes, Twain was here to find the "sorcerer" in his heart, and so were those people. They were all scouts from major clubs. Southampton Football Club's youth training standards were well-known throughout England, and even throughout Europe. There would often be all kinds of scouts in disguise here. Why in disguise? Because Southampton Football Club was not willing to let those hateful scouts take away the young talents they had painstakingly cultivated without spending a single cent.
Famous scouts in the circle would not appear here because they would be too easily recognized.
Twain did not have this worry. He was not very famous in this circle, and he was still wearing sunglasses.
He had been standing here for almost an afternoon since noon. But to be honest, he was disappointed.
He did not see Theo Walcott, who would become famous in the future. Tang En was sure that he had not missed him, because Walcott's speed was too outstanding. If he was on the set, there was no reason he could not find him. There was only one explanation — Walcott was not here.
This was Southampton's youth training base. If Walcott was not here, was he not in Southampton? That was not right. He was sure that Walcott should be in Southampton's youth team at this time. He was still unknown and unknown.
Could it be …
A very bad thought suddenly flashed through Twain's mind. He linked this matter to Lee Bowyer's fight with his teammate Defoe on the field.
Could it be that the future he knew had changed? Walcott was not in Southampton. Instead, he had gone to another team, such as the rich and imposing Chelsea. Or perhaps he did not play football at all. He was just an ordinary British kid who went to school every day.
"This f * cking … transmigration!" Twain lowered his head and cursed softly. The most depressing thing was not the transmigration itself, but the realization that everything he knew beforehand was useless.
Twain's curse attracted the attention of a short and fat man beside him. He turned to look at Twain and suddenly asked, "What are you talking about?"
Twain was stunned by the question. What did he mean by "what are you talking about"? I can't talk to myself. Am I bothering you?
"I heard you say 'transmigration.' What does' transmigration 'mean?" The man seemed to be familiar with people. He was the kind of person who could immediately get straight to the point with anyone.
"Uh, nothing. I talk to myself. " Tang En clearly did not want this person to disturb his work, so he directly cut him off, not leaving any room for the other party to continue the conversation.
But Tang En had clearly underestimated this man's ability to be friendly. The chubby middle-aged man nodded and quickly changed the topic. "What do you think of my son?"
"What …" Tang En's brain suddenly froze. The hard drive light flashed wildly for a long time, but he still could not figure out the connection between "What are you talking about" and "What do you think of my son?" The topic seemed to have jumped from Earth to Mars.
Seeing that Tang En did not speak, the other party took the initiative to continue. "Are you a scout? Arsenal? Manchester United? Chelsea? Liverpool? Or … Tottenham Hotspur? Hmm, let me see, maybe Real Madrid? Barcelona? AC Milan? Bayern Munich? Inter Milan? "
This guy named almost all the famous football clubs in the world in one breath. Tang En felt a little dizzy listening to him. He waved his hand, signaling the other party to stop.
"Sorry, I'm not a scout, and I don't work for any of those teams."
Hearing Tang En say that, the chubby man was very disappointed. His interest in talking seemed to have diminished. Just as Tang En was about to breathe a sigh of relief and naturally change to another place to watch the game, the chubby man brought the topic back to the beginning. "What do you think of my son?"
Tang En, who had made a wasted trip today, really wanted to roar at this chattering man, "I don't know that d * mned son of yours!" But he finally suppressed the anger in his heart and asked through gritted teeth, "Who's your son?"
The man did not hear the anger in Tang En's tone. He stretched out his chubby hand and pointed to the field. "Right there!"
Tang En looked in the direction of the man's finger and saw a group of children running on the field, huffing and puffing.
"Sir …" Tang En could not hold it in any longer. A low growl had already begun to reverberate in his throat. "I'm asking who your son is, not where he is …" Before he could finish, he was interrupted by the whistle in the field and the surrounding cheers.
"Ah! The game is over! I'm so sorry, I have to go pick up my son. "The quick-witted man left Tang En and squeezed out of the crowd.
Do you want to know Tang En's feelings at this moment? If he had the ability, he would definitely blow up the Earth. Anger burned fiercely in his heart. If someone came to pick a fight at this time, he would beat the person half to death. But if the person who picked a fight happened to be a short, fat man who chattered endlessly …
The short, fat man turned back again. Beside him followed a child who was almost as tall as him. The man who acted familiar completely did not notice Tang En's expression that was as gloomy as the British winter. He pulled the child and introduced him. "This is my son! How is he? He's great, right? "
The man's loud voice attracted the gazes of a few people nearby. They turned their heads to take a look and then walked away. They had seen too many of the scenes of a father bringing his son to sell himself to those scouts who appeared out of nowhere.
No one took a fancy to this ordinary child. But when Twain saw the child's face clearly, his anger disappeared without a trace in an instant.
He had just played a game, and the Southampton jersey on the child was drenched in sweat. It stuck to his body, revealing the state of his body. Tang En gauged the child's height. It was about 1.5 meters. From a player's point of view, his body was a little thin. But that was not the main point. It was the child's face.
The child pursed his lips and looked at Tang En curiously, which further highlighted his facial features. When Tang En first saw him, he felt that the child looked very special. His mouth was protruding, and to use one word to describe it — a protruding mouth and monkey cheeks. He looked like a monkey.
This appearance suddenly reminded him of someone. So, he tentatively asked the child's father next to him, "Sir, what's your son's name?"
"Gareth! Gareth Bale! "Speaking of his son's name, the short, fat man's face was full of pride.
As expected … Tang En thought, but he still had to confirm it.
"Is it G-A-R-E-T-H, Gareth, B-A-L-E, Bale?" he asked with anticipation.
The short, fat man nodded. "Yes! Gareth Bale! My son, a genius! "
Tang En also nodded vigorously. "That's right!"
The number one monster of a left back in FM 2007, the future youngest player and goalscorer for the Welsh national team, and the 18-year-old player who made Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester United jealous, what was he if not a genius? He had wanted to come to Southampton to find the 13-year-old Walcott, but he did not expect to meet his future roommate!
It was really a case of losing at the mulberry orchard but gaining at the eastern corner. It did not matter if they could not find Walcott. He was destined to be someone Wenger and Arsenal had their eyes on anyway. Moreover, there were many outstanding offensive players in the future. But the child in front of him would be a real treasure in a few years' time! Even a team like Real Madrid was frantically looking for an outstanding left back for Carlos, who was about to leave. At that time, the world was lacking left backs.
Bale's father saw that Tang En agreed with his opinion and was very happy to say to Bale beside him, "Look, son! This gentleman also agrees that you're a genius. Don't worry, you'll have a great future! "
The child hummed in low spirits, as if he lacked confidence.
Tang En found it strange. His curiosity was piqued and he intended to ask, "Sorry, can I ask what happened?"
Seeing that someone was willing to listen to him pour out his grievances, the fat man could not close his mouth. In the end, under his incessant and unfocused narration, Tang En finally figured out the ins and outs of the matter.
This person was indeed the Gareth Bale that Tang En knew, the Welsh child born in Cardiff.
Although Gareth Bale was known as a "football genius" when he played football at his school, the professional coaches of the youth team had obviously seen too many "geniuses". Compared to Walcott, who was a genius who had already played at a higher level, Bale was just an ordinary person. Bale's father had coaxed and pestered for a long time before he finally got Southampton's youth team to agree to his son's six-week trial here. Today was his second time here, and he just happened to be in time for a training match. He went up to play the last half of the match, but did not show anything exciting. The little guy was very depressed.
But after Tang En heard the story, he was so happy that he wanted to laugh out loud. Before he transmigrated, he only knew what Bale would achieve in the future, but he did not think that behind the scenes, this story was even more exciting. He really wanted to thank the coaches of the Southampton youth team for giving him such a great opportunity.
If I, Tang En, can't catch him, then I don't need to go back to Nottingham today. I can jump into the English Channel and drown!
The fat man told him that Walcott was indeed at the club, but he was not training with this team. He had already been promoted to the youth team for the under-17 age group. He had two training days a week, and he was not here. Instead, he was placed at King Edward School in Astronfo to receive cultural education while practicing football. No wonder Tang En could not find him after standing here all afternoon. But now, Tang En did not care about the tiger cub Walcott.
He lowered his head and took out the notebook he carried with him from his clothes. He tore off a piece of paper and wrote down his name, phone number, the address of the Forest youth team training base, and his contact number. He stuffed the note into Bale's hands, just as he had handed it to Wood.
The fat man looked at Tang En strangely, while the child looked down curiously at the words on the note.
Tang En smiled at Bale's father. "Southampton doesn't believe in your son's ability, but I do. If it's possible, Mr. Hope, you can bring Bale to Nottingham Forest's youth team tomorrow afternoon. I think the Forest team will be happy to give your son an apprentice contract. There's no need for a trial. He can sign directly. "
"Nottingham Forest?!" The man exclaimed. "And you say you're not a scout!"
Tang En smiled. "I'm not lying, sir. Of course I'm not a scout. I'm the head of the Forest youth department. Nice to meet you. I'm Tony Twain. "
He extended his hand to the stunned father and son.
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