Inter Milan's head coach Chiwo was furious during the pre-match eting.
Facing Juventus, the entire coaching staff seed listless, with their words and expressions hinting at a lack of confidence; the atmosphere was exceptionally strange.
anwhile, the video analyst from Inter Milan produced a video that was completely mismatched, clearly done in a rush overnight.
Previously, when Chiwo served as the video analyst at Inter and Manchester City, he also stayed up all night making videos. However, this wasn't due to rushing but rather because he had higher standards for himself, wanting to present his analysis to the coaching team as quickly as possible.
"This is Juventus, they're going to take the championship in our ho ground, in our territory! Is this your attitude? Ridiculous!"
Chiwo slamd his fist on the table three tis, then stord out.
...
In the head coach's office.
Chiwo sat in the chair smoking a cigarette.
The smoke was curling around, obscuring his expression.
As a Romanian, he never thought he'd ever touch tobacco.
Whether as a professional player or during his early days as a professional coach after retirent, he scoffed at tobacco.
"It's harmful with no benefits, eroding my health and mind. I must never learn from Mr. Mancini, smoking one after another without end." That's what Chiwo always thought whenever he saw Mancini smoking.
But now, he understood why Mancini smoked.
Even though smoking doesn't alleviate the distress in his heart, it sowhat helps in distracting and passing the ti, with the smoke perhaps providing a shield of sha.
Smoking, his gaze casually landed on a small crystal fra at the corner of the desk.
[Already forty in the world, still riding the winds on horseback]
The crystal fra encased this twenty-centiter-wide photo of calligraphy.
It was a gift from Tang Long to his ntor Chiwo for his 40th birthday in 2020.
"Mr. Chiwo, may your passion in your coaching career always be alive. In my heart, you are still the great left-back who marked Robben in the 2010 Champions League final!"
The calligraphy was fluid and free, with strength penetrating the paper, crafted by Tang Long's friend, the Chess Saint Nie Weiping.
At that ti, Chiwo was coaching in Palermo. He hung the calligraphy on the wall behind the head coach office.
The artwork traveled with him to Inter but was kept away by Chiwo, photographed, and placed at the corner of his desk.
The reason was quite simple.
Inter Milan's head coach office sees far more visitors than Palermo, ranging from various types, including many governnt officials. Nearly everyone who visited Chiwo's office for the first ti would be attracted to the painting and inquire about its aning.
One day, tired of repeatedly explaining, Chiwo simply took down the painting, replaced it with a photo, and placed it on the desk.
As he smoked, the haze blurred Chiwo's vision, but his heart suddenly beca clear and calm.
With Tang Long's na coming up again, Chiwo instinctively pulled open the desk drawer.
A gold Champions League dal from the 2016-2017 season lay quietly in silk, Chiwo's thoughts drifting like the smoke into past tis…
June 3, 2017, Wales, Cardiff Millennium Stadium.
When Tang Long scored the equalizing goal in the 30th minute of the first half.
The scoreline was presented as 1 to 1.
C Luo angrily shouted at Ramos!
The roar was so loud that standing forty ters away on the sidelines, Chiwo could hear it clearly even amidst the noisy cheers of the fans.
Eight years on, Chiwo still rembers what C Luo said.
"Ramos! This is your shitty defense!"
Chiwo was inwardly surprised at the ti: "How can C Luo speak to his teammate like that?"
Ramos is a key player for the Spanish national team, the core player of their three titles in four years.
Such disrespect to a teammate!
But the subsequent scene made Chiwo chuckle.
Tang Long ran towards Real Madrid's goal, wanting to retrieve the ball.
It was sending a firm ssage—we at Manchester City are not satisfied with just equalizing; in the first half, we aim to lead!
Real Madrid's goalkeeper Navas knelt on the ground helplessly, hands spread;
Ramos, close to the goal, took a step forward, bending down to grab the ball, trying not to let Tang Long easily take it, at least planning to tussle over it before giving it to him.
Unexpectedly, Tang Long moved, without seeming to accelerate, yet swiftly appearing at the ball's side, softly dragging it with his instep, making the football slip through Ramos's legs with a zip, before joyfully picking it up and rushing toward the center circle.
Poor Ramos, frozen on the spot, dumbfounded as he watched Tang Long depart.
This scene wasn't captured on broadcast, but Chiwo, C Luo, and all the players on the field saw it clearly.
"Haha! Ramos, oh Ramos, you have your day, haha!" Chiwo couldn't help but applaud.
As a fellow defender, Chiwo fully understood the feeling of being nutgged.
Especially after Tang Long found an opening behind him to score, enduring further humiliation during a dead ball situation—a generational Spanish defensive core's dignity seed shattered.
Chiwo clearly understood that Tang Long's urgent desire to resu the match was not only about overtaking Real Madrid in the first half but also competing with C Luo for the Golden Boot!
Having scored one goal each, their respective Champions League goal tallies stood at 22 and 21.
In any previous season, those numbers guaranteed Golden Boot victory, but the situation back then was remarkably different, with two football superstars engaged in an unprecedented contest. Thinking of this, Chiwo's heart couldn't help but surge with excitent. Standing on the sidelines, he leaped twice and clenched his fist…
"Hey! Christian, you're lost in thought again!"
Berni suddenly arrived, interrupting Chiwo's thoughts, causing him to jolt, scattering long ashes and burning his finger, leading to a furrowed brow.
Berni didn't mind as he plopped down opposite Chiwo, pulled off a shoe, placed his foot on the chair, one hand picking at his foot, the other scratching his dense beard, creating a scratching sound.
"You've been off lately."
"I've always seen you daydreaming, alright, I know it's tough, but in these ten years, who's had it easy at Inter? Even back when Mr. Mancini won the UEFA Europa League, it wasn't easy; I was a third-choice goalkeeper then, and you were in the youth team tussling with Leno, that brat."
"Later, you joined the first team coaching staff and even brought Tang along, things got smoother from there."
"Though we won the UEFA Europa League, Juventus still overshadowed us in the league! Buffon, that old dog, was the loudest during their parade in Turin. Unfortunately, he's retired now, otherwise…"
Facing Berni's rambling, Chiwo interrupted him.
"You haven't seen how disheartened they are in the coaching eting. It pisses off, sigh!"
"Forget it, let's drop it. So, what did you find out in Madrid? Is there a plan for Tang to return to Inter next season?"
Berni leaned back on the chair, looking up at the ceiling lights, mumbling to himself:
"Ah, right, will he return? I t Tang in Madrid, also t his wife Gracie, but will he co back? He's turning 30 soon, no longer a young player. He's had his best professional years at Manchester City and Real Madrid, winning all the titles, so I think he'll return, just this sumr."
(That's all for today. The book is nearing its conclusion, rest assured it won't end abruptly as each character will be resolved, with the ending already planned out. Expected to finish by May 18, as the author will be heading to Ningxia to participate in a national football tournant within the system around then, estimated to last about a week, leaving no ti to write.)
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