Tang En stood at the edge of the Youth Training Ground No. 1, watching Andrew and his men watering the field. Then he looked up at the cloudy sky, but not a single drop of rain.
"Damn it, you can't trust the weather forecasts from home and abroad!" Tang En cursed in a low voice. "Is this what light to moderate rain means?"
Tang En looked at his watch. There was still nearly an hour before the start of the match. He indicated to Andrew and the others that they could stop watering.
"Not watering anymore? Are you sure, Mr. Tang? " Andrew asked loudly in the middle of the field in his raincoat and boots, still holding the water pipe that was still gurgling out.
"I'm sure! Very sure! If you keep watering, we and Arsenal will have to switch to water polo! "
Andrew heard Tang En's reply and waved his hand. The staff packed up their tools and left the field. Tang En stepped on it. It was very slippery, as if it had just rained. He was very satisfied with Andrew's work.
Before the mid-90s, especially during Graham's time, Arsenal's style of play was hard and rough, adhering to the boring "1: 0 principle." Most of the time, football flew around in the air and was not at all pleasing to the eye. But ever since the arrival of the Frenchman, Arsène Wenger, this situation had changed dramatically. The Frenchman brought an artistic style of football, emphasizing the appreciation of football, the coordination of short passes on the ground, and the play of individual skills. Today, Arsenal played the most beautiful football in England and was praised by the world.
However, teams that liked to play this way had higher requirements for the field. A wet, muddy, and uneven football field was definitely not a suitable stage for Arsenal to perform on.
Fat John and Skinny Bill had already arrived. There were quite a few of them. If these people were placed in the City Ground stadium, they could almost fill up a small section of the stands. They stood in two rows outside the barbed wire fence, taking up more than half the length of the field. Although not everyone was wearing Forest's red jersey like Fat John, they all had red scarves. There was even someone who rushed to make a slogan overnight and hung it on the barbed wire fence. On it was a cartoon of Tony Twain's head. Although it did not look like him, it still highlighted his features — his messy hair because he had not taken care of it. Next to the portrait was a sentence:
Hey, Tony! Win another game for us!
When the wind blew, the portrait floated up. It looked as though Tony Twain was roaring towards the pitch.
Looking at these enthusiastic fans, Tang En smiled and shook his head. Then, he walked over and started chatting with them through the barbed wire. These people were regular customers of the Forest Bar. Tang En knew very well that they were his most loyal supporters. Just like how every player would have a group of fans and fan groups, even though Tang En was not a player, he also had his own fans.
The feeling of being liked and recognized by others was really good …
They got together and chatted for more than 20 minutes. The youth team players came to the stadium one after another. Then, under Kerslake's lead, they went to the locker room to change their jerseys and came out to warm up. John and the others began to cheer for the group of children. Although the youth team matches were often watched by loyal fans, the number of fans today still surprised and excited the players.
Just as these children stepped onto the court to warm up, their opponents arrived.
With the sound of a car horn, a red and white bus turned from the asphalt road next to the stadium. The Arsenal Football Club's logo and name were painted on the car. The bus passed by the stadium and headed towards the parking lot. Tang En glanced around and bade farewell to John and the others. He turned around and returned to the home team's technical area. In reality, it was just a few folding chairs for the coaches and long wooden benches for the players.
Soon, the Arsenal youth team members walked in from the main entrance. Tang En saw a few familiar faces in the crowd — Francesc Fàbregas, Gael Clichy, Michael Papadopoulos, and Philippe Senderos.
The owners of these names would occupy a place in the international football scene in the future. Currently, the oldest among them was 18 years old, while the youngest was only 15 years old. After the players, the coaches walked into the field.
The manager of Arsenal's youth team, Liam Brady, walked over to Tony Twain and extended his hand to show his friendliness to his opponent. He was an Arsenal legend who had played for Arsenal from 1975 to 1980. He was the core of the team's midfield and brains on the field. Now, he was the Gunners' youth manager. However, Tang En did not recognize this person. What surprised him was the tall man standing not far behind Brady. He had a head of silver-gray hair and a large, protruding nose. He looked like a serious version of Mr. Bean. This was the Gunners' manager, the French professor, Arsène Wenger.
Why was the manager of the first team here? A trace of doubt flashed through Tang En's mind.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Twain. I hope that the match later will be a good one. "Brady spoke of the meaningless, unoriginal, and useless' three nothings'. He did not think much of Tang En. Similarly, he did not think much of the Forest team. What about having the best youth training facilities in England? Our Arsenal has the world's best youth training system.
"Uh-huh …" Twain's mind was filled with questions like "Why did Wenger come here?", "What's his intention here?", "Who's commanding Arsenal in this game?", and so on. He gave a very cold response to Mr. Brady's politeness.
In the eyes of the Arsenal legend, Mr. Brady, he naturally did not feel very happy. He thought that Tang En was looking down on the Arsenal youth team and himself. So, he did not say much and turned to walk back. Tang En's gaze was still on Wenger. He only reacted when he saw that there was another person beside Wenger. Mr. Brady had already gone back. Did he say something to me just now? Ah, damn it. Looks like I've offended another person …
Wenger was chatting with Brady about something. His eyes were fixed on Fàbregas on the field. Tang En understood. The Frenchman must be here to observe the performance of these young people.
The 18-year-old French defender, Clichy, had transferred over from Cannes Football Club in France this summer. He had already played for Arsenal's first team in the English Premier League, but his appearances were limited. In order to maintain his competitive form, Wenger also let him participate in the youth team matches. The tall Swiss center back, Senderos, was in the same situation as Clichy.
Of course, Tang En had reason to believe that the main purpose of Wenger's trip to Nottingham this time was to observe the Spanish kid, Francesc Fàbregas, who had just been bought for a month.
Fàbregas, who was a little thin and weak, was warming up on the field. He appeared very confident and did not have stage fright. Furthermore, he had only been with this team for a month, yet he looked as if he had already been with Arsenal for 10 years. It was obvious that he would be the core of this team and the key figure in this match.
Was there anyone in the Forest team who could defend against him at the moment? Tang En looked at the Forest players warming up on the other side of the field and scratched his head.
Wenger's arrival caused some commotion among the fans watching the game at the sidelines. He was a celebrity in the English Premier League, a world-class manager. Among John and the others, aside from supporting the Forest team, were also fans of Arsenal. That was because Arsenal's game was very entertaining and offensive.
Someone whistled excitedly. "Look! It's that Frenchman! "
"Why is he here?"
"Who cares! Maybe we can get his autograph after the game … "
"Idiot!" Fat John interrupted these people's excited discussion. He said with a fierce face, "He's our enemy now. Don't be so enthusiastic! You guys are making me feel embarrassed! Come, shout with me — Forest, Forest! "
"Forest! Forest!! "A group of men raised their arms high and roared at the top of their lungs.
Mr. Brady had wanted to walk onto the field to personally guide the team in warming up. In the end, he had just stepped onto the field when he suddenly heard the roar of the fans outside the field. His heart trembled, his feet slipped, and he fell on his butt!
"Damn it! Ah … "Sitting on the ground, Brady, who felt embarrassed, slapped the ground angrily. As a result, mud was flung onto his face. At the same time, his palms were covered with even more mud. "What kind of lousy field is this?"
When Wenger, who was standing beside him, saw Brady's feet slip, he had wanted to reach out to help him, but he was still a step too late. The youth team manager fell to the ground in front of him in a very comical manner. Looking at the players on the field who wanted to laugh but did not dare to, Wenger revealed a hint of a smile. "Miriam, get up. The Forest team must have done this on purpose. "He took out a clean towel and handed it to Brady." Wipe your face first, then wipe your butt. "
In fact, Wenger had long noticed the problem with the field. Looking at the expressions and movements of the players as they warmed up on the field, and then looking at the soil and turf that were constantly turned over … He had encountered such things in the Premier League, but … it seemed that no team did it as ruthlessly as the Forest team — it looked like they themselves were warming up very uncomfortably.
At the end of the warm-up, both sides returned to their respective technical areas to receive the coaches' final instructions.
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