509 The Victor Has Yet to Emerge

Ronaldinho's goal set off a celebratory frenzy at Camp Nou. The Barcelona fans' bottled-up feelings which had been suppressed for almost half the game, were released. The poor Forest fans were completely drowned out at this moment.

In the stand, Fat John sneered. "What's the big deal? It's only an equalizer. Good for nothings!"

That said, even though he and his companions were now shouting out the Forest team's chant, they could not be heard at all. The Barcelona fans were too loud.

These men waved their arms, stamped their feet, and feverishly yelled out the names of Ronaldinho and Barcelona, like any true-blue English fan.

"Barça! Barça! Bar—ça!"

Twain turned his head to look at the fanatic Barcelona fans in the stands behind him. It was a rare sight. Perhaps the scene could only be seen in Spain's El Clásico. Unexpectedly, Nottingham Forest had been fortunate enough to become such a heavyweight opponent.

This feels...quite terrific!

"After unrelenting efforts, Barcelona finally equalized the score! Ronaldinho is undeniably the king of Camp Nou! His performance was thrilling! Edwin van der Sar could not counter the perfect direct free kick!"

Amidst the commentator's excited commentary, as well as the cheers from the fans in the stands, the first half came to an end.

By the halftime interval, the score was set at 1:1 by Ronaldinho's free kick.

※※※

During the halftime interval, the players' tunnel was full of activity. The sound of footsteps and conversations intermixed to create a buzz. But as soon as the door shut, the sound was cut off. Camp Nou was undoubtedly a five-star stadium. The soundproofing was excellent, something that the City Ground stadium could not measure up to.

Twain looked at the players, who were somewhat downcast because of the equalizer, and laughed. He certainly was sorry about the equalizer scored at the last minute, but he was not too disappointed. Not to mention he was the manager, the chief of this group. He could not show too much negative emotion in front of them.

Therefore, when Twain closed the door, he scratched his head and acted like he did not care about the state of the score. He spread his hands towards the players and said, "I didn't say that we were going to prevent Barcelona from scoring a goal and keep them at zero in this game. The current score is normal, and the game is still in our orbit. You must know what kind of opponent we are dealing with, right? Barcelona is not just an amateur team from the Spanish countryside."

"Ronaldinho is not a circus clown either. He is an actual FIFA World Player of the Year. Even though he didn't play very well at the World Cup, he still can't be ignored. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The players in the locker room nodded to show they understood.

"Our opponent is very strong, very powerful. But look at their reaction after they scored at the last minute in the first half? All their fans and players were so excited, as if they had won the game. What does that mean? They only leveled the score, and yet they're so excited. That means it's not that easy for them to beat us!"

"Don't feel down. Have we lost yet? Or fallen behind? Chin up! There are still forty-five minutes left in the second half. If you're still in this state of mind, you'll really lose the game!"

After he boosted their morale, Twain began to specifically lay out the strategy for the second half.

"Ronaldinho is a threat, but we can't focus all of our defense on him alone. George."

Wood stood up.

"The goal conceded just now is a lesson for you. Don't give Barcelona the chance for a direct free kick in that dangerous zone. In addition to Ronaldinho, they also have another free kick expert in Xavi. Also, you're in charge of the defense and have to take part in the offense. Is it too much for you?"

Wood shook his head and said, "no."

"Then why are you like a tortoise, shrinking in the back field? When necessary, send the ball forward!" Twain's tone suddenly became severe. He turned his head to look at the other midfielders. "And you lot, my midfielders. Find a way to send the football forward. I don't care if you are doing short passes and coordinate to advance, or doing long passes, or dribbling the ball yourself, just send the ball out. Don't always let the Barcelona players buzz around our goal area like a swarm of flies! Buzzing, buzzing! I'm tired of it even if you're not!"

"I'm telling you, tactics are inert, but people are alive! The layout set before the game is unlikely to cover all aspects of the situation. You have to adjust accordingly to the actual situation on the field. If the opponent pressed too hard and there's a large void behind you, reduce the ball holding time in the middle of the back field. Do a long or direct pass in time and strike when your opponent is caught unawares!" He slammed his fist in his palm. "When we need to fight back, you guys must go up at the first instance. I don't want to see anyone taking a stroll on the field when we play defensive counterattack. It's tiring to sprint back and forth, but we don't train for the purpose of enjoying ourselves in the game. This is an important game. In order to win, all the costs must be paid!"

"Franck." Twain directed his gaze at Ribéry. "Don't always limit your area of activity to just within the flank. You have to lean towards the middle. When George and Mikel cannot charge ahead, you need to be in charge of organizing the attack. If you are on the flank, our passing route can easily be blocked by our opponent. They are living and breathing players, not just NPCs in a live game."

Ribéry hesitated a little, "If I go to the middle… what about Mikel?"

"How many times did you see him rush up in the first half? Most of the time he was assisting the defense." Twain glanced at Arteta. "You seldom show up in the middle during the game and I feel we have to do something unexpected in this game. It may produce something amazing. When you're in the middle, it's up to you whether you pass the ball, try to break through, or do a long shot. Take action according to the specific circumstances on the field. You don't need me to teach you this stuff, do you?"

Ribéry shook his head. "No, chief. I know what to do."

Twain nodded in satisfaction. He had remembered that Ribéry should not be confined to the flanks. He should still be more capable. It was just that he was not set free. This game was an opportunity. Rijkaard and his coaching staff would not anticipate that Twain would let Ribéry organize offense in the middle for this game. The previous impression of Ribéry was that he would always attack from the flank. Since the away game against Everton, Twain had deliberately allowed Ribéry to move toward the middle to become a more comprehensive and decisive midfielder.

From the start of this game, Twain was going to unveil a brand-new Franck Ribéry to the world. Perhaps he would also become an important asset to the French football.

"Franck will be the heart of our offense in the second half," Twain stated to the entire team. "The attack will be handed over to him to organize. Everyone will cooperate with him in the positional play. Do you all understand this?"

"No problem, chief."

"Understood!"

"Franck, if you don't perform well, don't blame us for not passing the ball to you!"

There was a burst of laughter in the locker room.

When the laughter subsided, Twain went on to say, "You're still on the flank as usual." As he spoke, he traced Ribéry's line of action on the tactical board, "As soon as we get the ball and are ready to attack, you run diagonally across… like this." He drew a slanted line pointing to the penalty area.

"And then, Ashley Young, you can move your position left and right during the game. Don't always stay on the right flank. Disrupt Barcelona's defenses and don't let them suss out our intentions too soon. Do you understand?"

Ashley Young nodded, too.

After he covered the offense, Twain moved on to the defense. Even though the defense had a heavy task, it was straightforward. "There's nothing much to say about the defense. Constrict the area to within a range of thirty meters. Do not create any offside situations and pull back the defense. No matter how they pass the ball, keep to our defensive formation and pay particular attention to the defense in the area between the two flanks. We will do zonal defense except for George."

With that, Twain looked at his watch. There was not much time left. He decided to rally the team one last time.

"Everyone understands his duty and does his job well." He extended two fingers, which looked like a "V" for victory. "My requirements of you are as simple as that. Our goal is not just to win this game. You all know what the real goal is, right?"

Everyone replied loudly, "the Champions League CHAMPION!"

"Very good."

※※※

While Twain was impassionedly mobilizing the players in the visitors' locker room, Barcelona's locker room was slightly calmer.

Rijkaard was also not the kind of person who liked to express his ideas with too many words. After he had arranged the tactical tweaks for the second half, he did not speak much. The players in the locker room did their own thing. Everything appeared normal.

Ronaldinho chatted with Messi. They had a good relationship within the team. Even though one was a Brazilian and the other was an Argentinian, they were all currently Barcelona players.

The two people touched on the same topic. Their discussion was about one person: George Wood.

During the halftime interval, Rijkaard wanted the three players, Ronaldinho and Messi, as well as Eto'o, to frequently change positions to rip George Wood apart, disrupt the Forest team's defense and created more chances for the others to score.

If George Wood was going to run after Ronaldinho, they would pass the ball to everyone else. If he did not follow Ronaldinho's positional play, then they would pass the ball to the Brazilian.

They were disappointed that they let their opponent get away with a goal, but it was not the time to consider that. Rijkaard asked the team to continue to step up the offensive in the second half. If the opponent returned to England with a 1:1 score, then the second leg would be dangerous for Barcelona. They could only rely on their offense to continuously score goals and use an immense goal difference advantage to offset the Forest team's away goal so that they could have the upper hand in the next round.

Barcelona's football would never give up offensive style football, not to mention it was their own home ground.

Messi asked Ronaldinho just how powerful George Wood really was.

Ronaldinho spoke truthfully about how he felt. "Don't let him get close and everything will be easier. You can try to get rid of him with speed, but to be honest, I'm not at all optimistic about the outcome of doing so. He's physically strong. When I forced my way through, it was like I had hit a wall. The best way to deal with him is to send the ball out as soon as possible." Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.novelhall.com for visiting.

Messi pondered for a while.

Maybe because he saw Messi frown that Ronaldinho added, "going up against him one-on-one is quite difficult, but we are skilled in our coordination, so he will be curbed. After all, he only one player."

Messi nodded when he heard Ronaldinho speak.

"I actually think he'll continue to follow me in the second half. He seemed to have marked me. So, you focus on your positional play in the second half. I will assess the situation before I pass the ball to you." Ronaldinho patted Messi on the head. In the team, Ronaldinho had always regarded Messi as his younger brother that he took care of. He would naturally think of him first whenever there was a benefit to be gained.

Sitting silently by the doorway, Rijkaard raised his hand to look at his table. The time had come, so he stood up and clapped his hands to signal for everyone to pipe down as he had something to say.

"I rarely say anything at this time." Rijkaard told the truth. He was a man who did not like to say too many things. He and Twain had completely different styles. "But I think it's necessary to say a few words today. We have been provoked by them. If we still do not do anything about it, we will be mocked out there." Rijkaard swung his hand and pointed outside the door. "I'm not happy with the 1:1 score. I hope in forty-five minutes, I'll see the score at 3:1, 4:1, and that we have won!"

※※※

Maybe it was a coincidence that when both teams returned to the field, Tony Twain and Rijkaard bumped into each other at the exit of the tunnel.

At first, the two men seemed to want to be the first to walk out before the other man, only for them to step forward together and cram into the exit. But in the next moment, they both changed their minds. They each stopped and graciously motioned to the other man to go first.

"Please, Mr. Rijkaard, after you."

"It's okay, you go first, Mr. Twain."

After feeling the friendliness of the other party, the two men walked in at the same time.

When their gazes met, Twain smiled. "I think we can fit side by side and pass through this exit."

Rijkaard pretended to size it up, nodding in agreement. "You're right. I don't usually pay much attention."

The two men were, of course, lying. Both teams could go out side by side at the same time with ample space to spare. How could two men not be able to go out at the same time?

"So, let's walk together."

With this, the two men stepped out side-by-side.

The tunnel at the Camp Nou Stadium was not in the corner of the stadium, but below the center of the stadium stands. As soon as they stepped out, the two men immediately parted ways.

Twain warmly took leave of Rijkaard and said, "hopefully the second half will be a fantastic game, Mr. Rijkaard."

"I hope the course of the game and outcome will be brilliant, Mr. Twain." Rijkaard smiled, issuing a challenge.

"Ah, with your words, I look forward to the second half even more." Twain turned and walked toward the visitors' bench with a smile.

Behind him, Rijkaard studied his back for a little while before he left.

Both teams' players had stood according to their respective positions in the formations on the field as they waited for the referee to start the second half of the game.

The televised broadcast apparently noticed the brief exchange between the two managers at the exit. When they returned to their seats, the producer on the scene gave the two managers each ten seconds of special footage. The two men wore smiles on their faces. No one knew just what the smiles meant.

After forty-five minutes, who would laugh in the end?

The victor had yet to emerge.