Godfather Of Champions Chapter 880 - Tony Don Twain

Chapter 880: Tony Don Twain

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

“George Wood’s dribbling the ball on the flank! He’s very fast… Oh, Ramos intercepted the ball! Wait… Gareth Bale, he passed the ball over again… Ramos can do nothing about it, George Wood got the ball again, he’s through!”

There was an excited voice coming from the TV, just like the “rat-tat-tat-tat” of a machine-gun and the voice even sounded a little distorted.

Compared to that agitated comntator, the Forest fans watching the ga in front of the TV was a little quiet. Of course, that was not because they did not care enough about their team, instead, it was because they did not have the ti to make any noise. The bunch of them were maintaining the sa pose, holding a heavy beer mug with their mouths wide open, looking up at the television screen, giving all their attention to it.

“George Wood has entered the penalty area, it’s a one-on-one!”

At this mont, soone roared softly amongst the people, “Damn it… George, put the ball into their net! Put it in!!”

“Shoot, George! Shoot!”

“This is the final chance, it’s up to you, captain!”

When Wood finally took a shot, the bar imdiately went silent at that mont. It was so quiet that it felt like there had never been any sound in the bar before.

Their hearts went to the throat when they saw Casillas touch the ball as they were afraid the ball might be diverted away from the goal. When the ball continued flying towards the goal, they saw Marcelo sliding towards the ball and their hearts almost jumped out of their mouths this ti, so of them even covered their mouths with their hands.

Eventually, the ball rolled into the ball along with Marcelo. This bunch of people did not give a long sigh of relief, instead, they started to roar as if they had gone insane collectively.

“To hell with Real Madrid! We’ve won! We’re the champion!!”

“Gooooal! Gooooal!!”

“Forest Forest! Nottingham Forest!”

“Nottingham Forest, la la la la la la! Nottingham Forest, la la la la la la!!”

Nobody drank the deer as they were all thrown towards the ceiling.

“Woooooooooow——”

This was just the epito of most of the bars in Nottingham. When Wood scored, half the Nottingham City went wild.

So places even could not wait and started so fires.

At the sa ti, in the Bernabéu Stadium situated in the northern part of Madrid, the short silence was over.

The noise seed to have co from underground, showing no rcy to the ear drums of everyone present.

The comntators on television did all they could to tell every viewer and listener what happened there.

There was a distinct difference in the emotions of the eighty thousand fans in the stadium. The Real Madrid fans displayed a very complex mix of emotions; disappointnt, fury, unhappiness and disbelief. As these emotions gathered, their jeers appeared to be very ssy too. For the Nottingham Forest fans, it was much simpler——Excitent, a reckless excitent! They showed this emotion on the stands without care; singing, screaming, hugging and kissing everyone around them, even those of the sa gender.

Even the most cultured person would probably find it difficult to control their own emotions after experiencing 120 minutes like this. Much less Evan Doughty, who wanted to show his emotions in front of Florentino deliberately, to show him that this was the result of underestimating Forest!

That was why, after the goal, Evan imdiately jumped out of his seat and shouted with his arms raised up high, as if there were nobody else around, “GOAL! GOOAL!!”

Next to him, the Real Madrid chairman, Florentino, could only pull a long face and endure the subtle humiliation coming from his opponent. Behind him, a whole bunch of Real Madrid officials and esteed guests looked at the conceited figure with an unfriendly look in their eyes. They must have classified the chairman of this English football club into the “uncultured” list.

But other than judging him silently, could they do anything else? It was their team’s fault for conceding at the final mont.

Allan was one of the calr ones in the Nottingham Forest camp. He did not let himself go and celebrate the goal like his chairman, choosing to applaud with a smile on his face.

On the sideline, Míchel González looked at the Forest players celebrating with a blank look on his face. Conceding at this mont ant that Real Madrid had failed. He stood at the sideline alone, silence covered the coaches’ seats and substitute’s bench behind him. The people from Real Madrid could not accept such a reality yet.

Next to them, the Nottingham Forest substitute’s bench and coaches were already hugging each other, screaming like girls.

Twain did not express his own emotions so openly like his colleagues because he was not as agitated as them. After watching Wood score, other than the initial excitent, what followed imdiately was relief.

He rely maintained a pose where he opened his arms, lifted his head and leaned back a little. He did not even have the strength to open his mouth and shout anything.

There was a period of ti where nobody disturbed him at all, so he stood there, maintaining this pose for very long. Until Eastwood suddenly approached and hugged him from behind.

“Boss! Boss! We’ve won, right? We’re the champions, right? We’re the treble winners, right?!”

This agitated voice felt more like an announcent, rather than questions.

George Wood, the goal scorer. After scoring, there was a rare sight of him pumping his fists towards the sky as he felt an urge within him to make him want to open his mouth and shout.

When he was pumping his fist and roaring, the other Nottingham Forest players gathered around him, their faces distorted with excitent.

“Good job, captain!”

“We’ve got this in the bag now, ah ha ha!”

“We’ve won the treble!”

Wood was forced onto the ground by his teammates and they shouted as they climbed on top of him. This was a rare opportunity. Wood was not a striker, so he did not score much, and the piling celebration was not one that could be used all the ti.

Most of the Real Madrid players looked on blankly as the Nottingham Forest players celebrated wildly, they had already given up——A goal in the 120th minute did not give them any ti to equalize at all, they had never heard of there being four or five minutes of injury ti in extra ti.

Ribéry was the only one who was complaining to the referee about the ti spent by Forest celebrating. None of the Forest fans jeered him then, they were still celebrating and nobody had to ti to pay attention to a failure.

Raúl, once the symbol of Real Madrid, their fountain of strength, the leader in the changing room, was seated in the VIP box then, looking at the pitch helplessly. Even if he was on the field, he would not be of any help in this kind of situation. The 10th Champions League trophy for Real Madrid was actually so difficult to obtain. He remained seated and sighed.

Ribéry’s protests got a positive response from the referee as he ran to where the Forest players were at and pulled them up, warning them not to waste ti deliberately.

The Forest players ignored the referee’s warning, and they were still waving to the stands in celebration after they were helped up. At the sa ti, they jogged slowly back to their own half.

Twain did not know how long the injury ti would be. Compared to his colleagues, his mind was still clear. When the players were running back to their own half, he shouted at them from the sideline, “Defend properly! Don’t be too cocky, pals!! The match is not over yet!”

“George!” He shouted Wood’s na, asking him to remind the players not to celebrate too early as the captain.

Wood nodded. The excitent of scoring was already gone from the face of this monster. The serious look on his face made it look like they were the ones who were trailing.

In fact, Twain was worried for nothing. When the referee indicated for the Real Madrid players to start the ball from the center circle, so of them were still rooted at the sa spot and did not move——Conceding a goal at the dying monts had sapped these people of their morale.

Casillas wanted to rush into the Forest penalty area to participate in the attack originally, too bad his teammates did not give him this opportunity.

Ribéry raised his arm in the middle asking for the ball but Ronaldo ignored him, choosing to cut in from the flank directly and taking a long shot!

Akinfeev jumped and raised his hand as the ball flew over the crossbar.

This was Real Madrid’s final attack in the match, the final shot…

Akinfeev planned to waste so ti and he acted as though he was displeased with his defence before turning to get the ball from the ball boy, but the ball boy had already threw the ball at him.

The most diehard Real Madrid fans still had so hope in their hearts, but the referee’s whistle broke their hearts cruelly.

“The match is over!!” The comntator dragged his voice during his announcent, “3:2, Nottingham Forest with the final victory! Due to the goal by their captain, George Wood, in the 120th minute, they defeated Real Madrid in the Bernabéu Stadium and won the 13/14 UEFA Champions League trophy!”

This was like a heavenly voice to the Forest fans and all the tension that they felt disappeared along with this voice. What followed was indescribable agitation.

The Forest players and coaches who were already waiting outside the pitch rushed in as the final whistle was blown, celebrating the victory that belonged to them.

But Tony Twain still rembered to shake the hand of the opposing manager after the match ended.

The reporters gathered around him, surrounding him. He had to push them away before he could shake the hand of Míchel.

“Congratulations, Mr Twain,” even though he lost the most important match of the season, Míchel still had a polite smile on his face. A man of noble birth had a much better deanour than soone from the grassroots like Twain indeed.

Twain did not accept his congratulations with his nose in the air as Míchel expected. On the contrary, the smile on his face was not obvious. He shook the hands of the Real Madrid manager and answered, “This is an exciting match, thank you, Mr González.”

The two of them did not communicate further. Míchel had to go console his players while Twain had to face the interruptions of the nurous reporters and at the sa ti, he had to go be with his players.

“Mr twain, can you tell us about your feelings after winning the Champions League again?” The question ca from the English dia. This reporter was very pleased with the “again” in his question, he even thought about Twain’s reaction——Praising him while he laughed, “Again? I like it!”

But he was disappointed. Twain was a little bit abnormal today. He was not as excited and agitated as people expected him to be. He rely made his way out, not planning to answer any question.

“Mr Twain, is achieving the treble the most morable thing in your career?”

“Mr Twain, do you have anything to say about George Wood scoring the decisive goal in the dying monts? Was this specially planned by you?”

“Can we talk about Pepe’s foul and red card…”

“Sorry, please save your questions for the press conference later, thank you…” Twain pushed his way out while waving them away. As the manager who managed the winning team, to the reporters, he was putting on airs again.

An obvious smile showed on his face only when he saw George Wood.

But Wood’s keen senses still managed to catch the change in his expression.

“You don’t look too happy?” Wood asked.

“Nonsense,” Twain opened his arms with a smile, “I don’t want to let those reporters who are easily turned by success to keep asking questions. For now, I just want to be with you guys.”

Wood believed Twain, then, he did sothing that nobody expected——He gave Twain a tight hug.

“Thank you, boss.”

Twain patted him on his sturdy back, “I’m the one who should say thanks, George. Thank you for your goal at the end…”

He was planning to say sothing else but he realized that he had lost his balance——Wood and the other players had already lifted him up.

“Woah!” Twain was shocked.

“Hey, boss, stop moving around! You’re the manager of the champions!”

The players shouted at him gleefully.

Yet again, for the third ti this season, he enjoyed the treatnt that was exclusive to him as the players lifted him up——Being adored by everyone.

The English comntator laughed when he saw this, “Ha! The King of Nottingham Forest!”

And the Italian comntator gave Twain a new nickna——”Don”. Mister, sir, but there was another aning to it——Godfather.

“Tony Don Twain. He is fully deserving of the title of Nottingham Forest’s Godfather. He led the team to three UEFA Champions League, three English Premier League titles, one League Cup, one FA Cup and many other International and Continental trophies. He is the most successful manager in England after Ferguson. Since Ferguson is Manchester United’s Godfather, then he can be Nottingham Forest’s Godfather too,” there was no signs of the usual mockery when the Italian said this. For this person who suffered from heart diseases, coming back to manage the team despite the massive pressure and eventually leading the team back to the peak, no matter how arrogant he was, how much they hate him, how much he made them suffer and how much he wronged them, in front of the glorious achievents he had, they had no choice but to accept it——The Godfather of Champions.

He was Nottingham Forest’s Godfather, and the synonym of champions.

He could accept the nickna “Don” without feeling bad.

Twain sat on the shoulders of the players and raised his fist towards the sky. The Queen’s classic song, “We are the champions”, was broadcasted in the Bernabéu Stadium. Along with the fervent song, the figure atop the people beca larger and larger.

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