When Tony Twain, draped in a drenched suit, stood on the podium in a somewhat disheveled state. The person waiting in front of him to present the award was the UEFA president, Michel Platini.
The UEFA's number one figure watched with a smile as Twain pushed his wet hair away from his eyes and did not rush him.
Twain had just been drenched from head to toe by the players with the water they usually drank. That happened after they carried him around the field for a round. Twain was caught off guard and cut a sorry figure. He had to be thankful that the boys did not splash him with champagne. Otherwise, he would be sticky all over and would definitely be uncomfortable.
Platini kept looking at Twain and smiling, as if he was looking at something very interesting. When Twain finally tidied up the messy hair on his forehead, he offered his hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Twain."
Twain returned the gesture. "Thank you, Mr. President."
If Twain had pledged allegiance to the UEFA in the beginning, the smile on Platini's face would have been wider at this moment. He would have patted Twain's face intimately and kissed him on the cheek like the French and said, "Congratulations, my dear Tony."
But now that he was giving the award to a team from the English Premier League, Platini could not bring himself to smile no matter what. Five years ago, the English Premier League teams represented by Nottingham Forest and Manchester United occupied the majority of the top four spots in the Champions League, which made the UEFA very unhappy. Therefore, they used all means to curb the influence of the English Premier League teams in the Champions League, including secretly manipulating the results of the draw and appointing referees. Later, Tony Twain had a heart attack and Nottingham Forest declined. The whirlwind of the English Premier League finally weakened a little. Unfortunately, Ferguson still broke through the layers of encirclement in the last Champions League final before his retirement and won the championship. The strength of the English Premier League was something that even the UEFA could not contain.
Now it was even worse. Tony Twain brought Nottingham Forest back and once again picked up the championship trophy, making all the teams in Europe become spectators. If this continued, the UEFA Champions League might as well be renamed to the "UEFA Cup."
This was definitely not the future that the UEFA wanted to see. On the surface, they said that "a certain country's league monopolizing the top four of the Champions League is not good for the development of football." In fact, their real idea was that "after a certain country's league monopolizes the top four of the Champions League, it is bound to make the fans of other leagues lose interest in the subsequent games, which will affect the ratings, and then directly affect the television broadcast share. In the end, it's all about money."
The UEFA was not a charity, and there was no government funding behind it. They had to be responsible for their own profits and losses. Naturally, they did what they had to do with the money.
If three Premier League teams and any other team from other countries were to enter the top four every year, even the most hardcore fans would have a day of aesthetic fatigue. What if I'm tired of aesthetics? If they did not watch it, the television broadcasters would reduce their share, and the advertisers would reduce their investments. In the end, there would be less and less money.
Platini raised the gold medal in his hand. At this time, Twain should bow and let Platini hang the gold medal around his neck. But he didn't do so. He hadn't done this in a long time. He was not used to bowing in front of others, even if it was to accept a gold medal. He had always received the other person's medal with his hand.
Platini looked helplessly at the unruly master and handed the gold medal in his hand to him.
Twain saw the displeasure in Platini's eyes, although it was quickly gone. He knew what Platini was upset about, but he didn't care.
After receiving the gold medal, Twain directly put it in the pocket of his suit jacket, as if he didn't care. The Real Madrid fans must have spurted blood in their hearts when they saw this scene — the highest honor they dreamed of was actually treated like this by the rude and uneducated English country bumpkin.
Tony Twain put the gold medal in his pocket and shook hands with some of the officials behind Platini. He walked to the side of the stage and waited with everyone for George Wood to come on stage.
This was the highlight of all award ceremonies — handing out trophies.
When George Wood walked on stage, his teammates standing on the other side gestured and whistled at him. Each of them was excited as if they had seen a beautiful girl — at this moment, in their eyes, the graceful arc of the big ear cup, the bright shell that reflected the light was indeed a beautiful girl in a sexy pose that tempted them. Wood bent down to let Platini hang the gold medal around his neck, and then walked with the UEFA president to the table where the Champions League trophy was placed.
"Champion! Champion! Champion! " The Forest players shouted in unison at the back. They didn't care what the UEFA thought of them winning the championship. They only knew that this championship was theirs!
Platini's attention was attracted by the sudden shout behind him. He looked back at the group of players, and there seemed to be a smile of approval on his face. Twain watched from the side and thought to himself that the self-restraint of a high-ranking official was really good …
Platini lifted the trophy and handed it to Wood.
"Congratulations, George. You're the European champions! "
Wood took the trophy unceremoniously and held it high. His teammates behind him roared and made a toast together, "Long live the champions!!"
At the same time, countless red confetti sprayed out from behind the podium, and more red and white ribbons poured down from the roof of the Bernabéu stadium, accompanied by the suddenly louder sound of "We are the Champions." In the enemy's nest, Nottingham Forest was crowned the king of Europe.
This time, they were still the king of kings — the treble.
"… We're the champions, my friends! We're the champions, undefeated in every battle … "
In the sound of the music, confetti scattered all over the sky. Twain looked up at the scene. The ribbons and confetti floating in the air glowed under the stadium's floodlights, as if they were fragments of memory. Each piece had a face and a memory. It had been eleven years. It had been so long since he had come. Some people's names and faces had gradually blurred in his memory, while some were still clear. Was it going to end like this?
Looking at the confetti flying in the night sky, Twain thought about it and felt a little reluctant to part.
※ ※ ※
The reporters who were participating in the press conference were getting impatient, and Tang En finally arrived late. He changed into a suit and dried his hair. He looked much more stylish than when he received the award. What was more stylish was that he suddenly shook out a red cloak on the stage and then made a bullfighting pose.
"What do the Spanish reporters here think of my learning? Give me some applause! "He said to the people below with a smile, looking very pleased with himself. "We just killed a giant bull." He made a stabbing motion with his sword.
He smiled and looked at the Spanish reporters below the stage, whose faces had changed. He had been looking forward to today's meeting since the press conference before the game. He was glad that he had the last laugh. The red cloak used for bullfighting was not bought in vain.
The Spanish reporters below suddenly had a dark look on their faces. No one applauded for him.
This was a naked provocation, and this action also determined the tone of the press conference — you provoke, we find fault.
Michelle left before he finished the interview, and the carnage that was about to happen here naturally had nothing to do with him. After Twain mocked the Spanish people, he sat down in his chair and nodded to the host, who signaled the reporters to ask questions.
All the reporters raised their hands. Twain did not carefully look at which of them were the Spanish reporters who had just given him the cold shoulder, and which were the English reporters who might be biased towards him. He randomly picked one. The person who stood up was a reporter from the Spanish newspaper Marca, a middle-aged balding man. He spoke through gritted teeth, clearly agitated by Twain's "performance" earlier. "First of all, congratulations on leading the team to win the Treble. Secondly, I want to ask about Pepe's red card. He may face a very serious punishment. Do you have anything to say, Mr. Twain? "
Pepe's terrible violent foul in the game was bound to become the focus of many media attention after the game. The Spanish would use this as a handle to attack Twain and overturn Nottingham Forest's achievements. And now, they wanted to ruin Twain's good mood at the press conference.
Twain raised his eyebrows and put away his smile. "I support Pepe. It was understandable to be impulsive at that time. After all, Real Madrid relied on that penalty to equalize the score at the last minute. It was too much of a coincidence. If it were me, I would also be angry. "Unsurprisingly, Twain chose to protect his son. And he also covertly scolded the UEFA.
"Do you support him hitting someone?" The Marca reporter asked.
"Under those circumstances, even if he hit someone, I can understand." Twain replied with a blank expression. "If it were me …" Twain paused and suddenly showed a bright smile on his face. "… Maybe I would have hit him too."
The Marca reporter's expression did not look good. He sat down angrily. He was probably thinking about how to say bad things about Twain in the newspaper.
The second to be called out was still a Spanish reporter. This time it was from AS. The spearhead was still directed at Tony Twain, but the reason was changed to tactics. "Nottingham Forest repeatedly violated the Real Madrid players throughout the game. There were 30 fouls in 120 minutes. Isn't that abnormal?"
"It's a very normal tactical arrangement." Twain put the blame on himself. "I let them do it. You've seen the result, Mr. Reporter. " Twain took the gold medal out of his pocket. Under the light, a golden light dazzled the reporter's head and his eyes slightly closed. "We're the champions."
"Is there a reason to take such a championship title?" The reporter was upset by Twain's frivolous behavior. His words had gone beyond the scope of a reporter's question. He had somewhat lost his mind.
Twain spread his hands and looked innocent. "Why is there no reason to take it? We didn't steal or rob, didn't rely on the referee, didn't rely on the UEFA, didn't have an exaggerated home advantage, didn't have the help of a last-minute penalty, and had one less player than Real Madrid. Under such circumstances, we still won the championship. If we don't have a reason to win the championship, then dear Mr. Reporter from AS, tell me, who else in this world has a better reason than us to take … this? "Twain waved the gold medal in the reporter's eyes again. He was deliberately angering the other party.
"All right, next." Twain no longer paid attention to the Spaniard who was biting his lower lip and blushing. He turned his head and pointed to another person.
This time, it was finally an English reporter who stood up. But in a sense, he was still Twain's "enemy" — a reporter from The Sun.
The reporters from The Sun had been trained and were well-versed in the ways of reporters. A few words of congratulations to Twain before asking some superficial questions was not their goal. If they wanted to play, they had to play something explosive. They did not have to be afraid of being hated. If they did not, they would be mediocre. As a reporter, he had to be aware that he could be reviled by thousands of people without batting an eyelid.
"Mr. Twain, I heard that your contract will expire on June 30th, but you have not renewed it with the club until now. Is there any … ulterior motive?"
This authentic English paparazzi was indeed extraordinary. His words shocked everyone. Not many people knew that Twain had not renewed his contract with the club. It could be said that even the Forest players did not know about it. He did not expect the people from The Sun to find out.
Twain could not help but look at the man in front of him in a different light.
"It's a waste of your talent not to go to Scotland Yard, Mr. Reporter." Twain's words were tantamount to admitting that The Sun's reporter's news was true. The discussion below grew louder. The host had to come out to maintain order.
But this reporter was determined to embarrass Twain. "So you're admitting that there is such a thing. Then, may I ask what exactly made you choose not to renew the contract? "
Twain was long prepared. He brought out the excuse he used to deal with Evan and Allan. "Before the Champions League, I don't want to be disturbed by those contract terms and annual salary."
"In other words, you're renewing the contract after the Champions League? Ah, Mr. Twain, you have to understand the feelings of those who care about you and the Forest fans. They must all hope that as the club's meritorious manager, you can renew the contract with the team and continue the glory … "
The words were dignified, but Twain knew that the bastard was up to no good.
"You'll know when the time comes, Mr. Reporter." Twain was not a pushover, of course. He responded, ending the question and answer session.
Perhaps the three people who found fault with him in a row had spoiled his mood. This time, Twain did not pick randomly. Instead, he picked Pierce Brosnan.
Brosnan clearly did not know that Twain had yet to renew his contract with the club. It looked like Twain was indeed keeping a tight lid on it. When he stood up, his eyes were a little unfocused. His mind must still be thinking about what had just happened. The questions he asked were also very general and not newsworthy. It was nothing more than the team's tactical arrangements, praising a few players for their performance, and talking about the feelings of winning the Treble.
Twain answered fluently. The two of them seemed to have long rehearsed it. The questions and answers proceeded very quickly. The other reporters below were all taking notes seriously, but they were all shaking their heads at the same time. It looked like the show was over.
After answering these questions, Brosnan suddenly came to his senses. He still wanted to ask. "Tony, are you really renewing the contract after the Champions League?"
Twain was taken aback by Brosnan's inevitable question. His expression turned ugly in an instant. But this expression only appeared on his face for less than a second before he changed back to a smile.
"You'll know when the time comes, Mr. Brosnan."
When Pierce Brosnan heard Twain's last form of address, sweat broke out on his forehead. He understood that the King of Nottingham Forest was angry. But this further strengthened his doubts about Twain not renewing his contract with the club.
A year ago, the media had been hyping up the news of Twain renewing his contract with the club. At that time, the Forest Football Club had already given Twain a new five-year contract. The annual salary was more than double what he was getting now. That annual salary not only allowed him to rank among the top managers in England in terms of achievements, but also in terms of income. Everyone had been talking smoothly. Twain was already ready to sign the new contract. But he did not expect Allan to forcefully intervene in the sale of Lennon. Without another word, Twain immediately stopped the contract renewal negotiations and told Evan to wait a year to talk about it again.
At that time, Twain was very ruthless, and both sides fell out. There were even rumors in the streets that Twain was going to leave that summer to coach at Manchester United. Although Twain did not leave in the end, which surprised those who thought he should just leave, the rumors about the conflict between him and the club raged and caused a ruckus for a while. It directly affected the team's preparations for the summer. The hearts of the players in the team wavered, and the transfers also tended to stagnate. As a result, the Forest Team's start in the new season was slower than several of their competitors. Otherwise, they would not have caught up to Arsenal at the final juncture of the season and narrowly won the title.
Brosnan knew that Twain and Allan did not get along, but he did not expect him to really not renew his contract with the club until now.
After this final, he believed that Evan Doughty would be eager to take out a new contract. When that time came, where would Twain go?
The Nottingham Evening Post reporter's brows furrowed together. He suddenly had an ominous premonition.
At this time, the man in his eyes had already gotten up to leave. The host hurriedly announced that the press conference was over. The reporters still wanted to ask questions, but Twain walked out without looking back.
This was supposed to be a celebratory and joyous post-match press conference, but there was no festive atmosphere at all.
Pierce Brosnan looked around and had this thought in his mind.
※ ※ ※
Twain did not return to the locker room. Instead, he walked straight to the bus parked outside the stadium. His team was waiting for him on it.
Twain stepped onto the bus and waved. "Go back and celebrate, guys! The season is over. Don't think about anything else. Have fun to your heart's content! Let loose and have fun! "
A group of people responded to him with wild cheers. They had worked hard for a season, gritted their teeth and persevered until this moment. What was it for? Wasn't it because of the boss's words?
Previously, the boss had always waved his whip at the back and roared, "Run! Keep running! Don't relax! "Now, they had finally reached the finish line. Furthermore, they were the first to hit the finish line. They did not have to worry about anything. They just lay on the ground and took a good rest.
The bus suddenly became lively. Some people were discussing where to go during the holidays, some were busy calling their families and girlfriends, and some simply fell asleep in their seats.
Twain did not care how much they made a fuss. He sat down next to Kerslake and exhaled softly.
"It's finally over, David."
"Yeah," Kerslake replied with a smile. "I have to take a good rest for a while!"
"Me too." Twain nodded.
"You really have to take a good rest for a while. Don't let your wife worry too much. You've really been working too hard during this period. "
Twain grunted in acknowledgment. He then adjusted the back of his seat and leaned back into it. He closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to sleep for a while. Wake me up when we arrive, David."
The luxury bus slowly drove out of the lights-out Bernabéu Stadium and headed towards the hotel they were staying at. Everyone was still making a ruckus in the bus. Twain, who was leaning next to Kerslake, was already snoring softly.
The ruckus had nothing to do with him.
※ ※ ※
When Twain was woken up, the bus was parked at the entrance of the hotel. The players had all alighted, leaving only him, Kerslake, and the driver in the bus.
"Ah? Yes, we've arrived? " Twain wiped his face and sat up from his seat. However, he forgot to adjust the angle of the backrest. His waist softened and he lay back down. The feeling of weightlessness startled him. The expression on his face changed, and he only returned to normal after leaning against the back of the seat.
Seeing him in such a sorry state, Kerslake laughed. "Look at you. Where's the demeanor of a European champion manager?"
"I'm not fully awake … Yawn …" Twain yawned and stretched before sitting up again. He moved his neck and shoulders, which were a little sore from maintaining a sleeping position. "I had a dream."
He looked at his old partner who had accompanied him for ten years. The lights in the bus had already been extinguished. However, his eyes shone in the darkness, as if reflecting the lights at the entrance of the hotel outside.
"A sweet dream?" Kerslake asked, following Twain's words.
"A sweet dream." Twain nodded with certainty and got up to leave his seat. "A rare sweet dream." He lifted his feet and stepped out of the bus.
There were still many reporters and hardcore Forest fans waiting at the entrance of the hotel. Seeing Twain walk down, there was a commotion, which made the security guards and police officers in charge of maintaining order feel as if they were facing a formidable enemy.
Fat John and the others were also inside. When they saw Twain, they shouted, "Tony! Hey, Tony! "
Twain heard the shouts and waved at them.
"Thank you, Tony! Thank you! "This group of people seemed to have drunk a lot and looked very excited. They kept shouting "thank you" to Twain, clearly thanking him for allowing Forest to obtain the Treble, which they had never achieved even during Clough's era.
Skinny Bill drank the most. His head was red from head to neck. When he saw Twain, he wanted to break through the barrier between the security guards and the police. Unfortunately, people who drank too much did not have much strength. His legs were unstable and he was pushed back by the police. In the midst of the pushing and shoving, he was still mumbling, "Tony … Hiccup! Tony, next year … Next year … Get three championships … Championship titles … Hiccup! "
Twain waved at him. "Definitely."
Then, he walked into the hotel lobby. Only then did the security guards and police officers feel relieved. They retreated inside the door and used the geographical advantage to block the crazy fans and reporters outside.
The players did not wait for their boss. Instead, they dispersed in twos and threes. They had their own ways of entertainment, which had nothing to do with the manager. Twain did not want to join in the fun. He and Kerslake walked straight into the elevator and went up to the floor where their rooms were.
Once out of the elevator, the two of them saw Evan Doughty and Allan Adams standing outside.
Evan smiled and greeted Kerslake before turning to Twain. "Tony, we've been waiting for you for a long time."
Although Kerslake was usually carefree, he was not a fool. He knew that the chairman must have something to discuss with Twain. So, he found an excuse and left first.
Kerslake tactfully left, while Twain continued to stand in the elevator.
Evan looked at him and smiled. "If you don't come out, you'll have to go back to the first floor."
Twain touched his nose and walked out with his head down. He could not wait to go back to the first floor. Although he had been thinking about it for a whole year, he still felt complicated and hesitant when he really had to say it.
Tonight was the Night of Champions. For more than half of the people in Nottingham, it was also a sleepless night.
The players who had worked hard for a season would also have fun and indulge themselves on such a night. It was a night of revelry.
As for the reporters who rushed back from the stadium and the hotel, this night was destined to be a busy one.
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