742 Leaving the Life of Football

After the training session and showering in the changing room, van Nistelrooy did not go to the parking lot. He knew there could be hardcore fans waiting for his signature. Instead, he went straight to the head coach's office and knocked on the door.

When training finished, the players would take a bath, change their clothes, and go home. The coaches often gathered together and went over the day's training report with Twain so he could understand the team's situation.

As he was looking at the reports, he heard a knock at the door. He thought it was Dunn. Without looking up, he said, "The door isn't locked, just come in."

Van Nistelrooy pushed the door and said, "Sir."

Twain looked up and was a little surprised. He asked, "What's the matter, Ruud?"

van Nistelrooy nodded. "Well, there is something I've been thinking about for a long time. I think it's better to tell it to you, sir. "

As Twain put down his training report, van Nistelrooy asked, "My contract with the club doesn't expire until June 30, 2012, right?"

Twain nodded and replied, "Yes. If your performance is stable, I'm going to extend your contract for another year..."

Van Nistelrooy shook his head. "No, sir. I have decided to retire after this season."

Twain was startled. Sitting in his chair, he could feel his body move on its own, thinking he had misheard. "Sorry?"

"I said, I'm going to retire after this season, sir." Van Nistelrooy had no choice but to repeat himself.

Twain wanted to loudly ask if he misheard. Out of a mix of disappointment, anger, and shock, he abandoned the idea and stood up. "Today isn't April Fool's Day, Ruud." He smiled with a little reluctance.

"I'm not kidding, sir," van Nistelrooy said.

"Your body is recovering well," Twain said. "I can't figure out why you'd want to resign in advance.

"It only looks good on the surface, sir," van Nistelrooy replied." And, retiring at 35 isn't early."

"If your injury hasn't healed, I can continue to let you heal," Twain said. "I'm not in a hurry. You do not have to worry."

van Nistelrooy laughed and said, "That is exactly what I'm worried about, sir. I'm a professional footballer, not a guy sitting on the bench or in the stands or on the injury list drawing a salary without playing any games. I've been out for a whole season and a half. If I continue to be absent, it would be better for me to announce my retirement now."

Twain's tone was a little harsher as he said, "Hey, Ruud, we're allowing you to miss more than a season of games now so you can play long into the future."

"Sir, why would a 34-year-old striker want to play longer?" van Nistelrooy asked.

The rebuttal stunned Twain. At 34, it was basically a season-by-season situation in which one you could either get injured or retire at any time. Why would anyone want to ask van Nistelrooy to play until he was 36 or 37?

"If I said I don't want you to retire and want you to keep kicking, would you believe it?" Twain asked.

van Nistelrooy smiled and didn't answer. He obviously did not believe it. It was not something a head coach would say.

Twain laughed too, treating it as a joke, before saying, "I think your experience can aid the team."

van Nistelrooy believed the explanation, but he shook his head as he stood in front of Tony Twain with a crooked smile under the afternoon sun.

"I'm not the only one who has experience," he said. "The Gypsies are good. Before moving to Nottingham Forest, I just wanted to prove to Ferguson how bad it was to let me go. I never thought we would be champions. Now, I don't want to prove anything to anyone. I've got everything I needed to. My career is perfect. To be honest, sir, I don't have the motivation to keep playing. Don't you hate people who don't have the motivation to play?"

Twain opened his mouth as if there was something he wanted to say. Before he could speak, van Nistelrooy said, "I don't need to use honor to push myself. I don't think it's wise to stay with Nottingham Forest without a sense of honor. It's better to retire and give up the opportunity and my position to the younger players."

"Did you make this decision because I bought Ibišević?" Twain asked.

"No. I thought it over as I was lying in my hospital bed in the United States," van Nistelrooy said. "Don't you think it's a way to help the club ease its financial burden?"

Twain could not smile as he looked at van Nistelrooy, who had a serious face.

"Anyway, I've decided, sir, I'm not going to play another season," van Nistelrooy said. "I want to spend more time with my family. You're also married, so can't you understand where I'm coming from? Whether it's football or not, the point of doing anything is all about making money. The point of making all that money is so I can spend time with my family. I felt like I've reached this last stage. "

Although he spoke seriously, van Nistelrooy had a smile on his face. Twain knew he couldn't make him reconsider. Retiring was one of the most important decisions of a professional footballer's life. His ability to say it out meant he had thought about it for a long time. This consideration was not easily influenced by others.

He sighed, a little disheartened, before saying, "I think I'm a failure, Rudd. Whether it's you, Demi, or David, I've tried persuading all of you, but I've never succeeded. You never let me do what I want."

van Nistelrooy smiled and did not respond to his words. He knew that Twain had already agreed, but the stubborn man did not want to accept it so easily.

"Can I ask you what do you plan to do after you retire?" Twain asked.

"Go home back to Holland to spend time with my wife and children," van Nistelrooy said.

Twain he suddenly had a feeling of being a landowner. He laughed and said, "If the weather was good, would lie in the yard under the sun?"

"Maybe I'll plant some flowers, teach my children to play football, go shopping with my wife, or travel around," van Nistelrooy replied.

Life as a retiree seemed very attractive to him. He could finally stop thinking about training, playing matches, staying in shape, and ruthlessly fighting with someone for 90 minutes, as well as the premier league's current record of the most goals and second-most goals in the Champions League history. These worries would all be gone. He would no longer have to care.

"It's an enviable life..."

Twain sighed, put away the report on the table, and walked up to van Nistelrooy. "Let's go home."

※※※

Twain was leaning on the Mercedes Jeep that Shania had given him as he watched van Nistelrooy drive out of Wilford. The weather was good. The Nottingham vicinity was vibrant. Although it was still hot, it was better than constant raining day and night. He suddenly wanted to bask in the blazing sun.

He never thought about what he would do after leaving football. He never considered a life not having to think about training and the next round of opponents from the moment he woke up. A day spent sunbathing and playing with the kids until the evening seemed unreal. For him, retirement seemed like something that would only happen when he was old.

The phone in his pocket rang. He got his phone out and answered the call.

Shania's voice instantly popped up. "Hey, Tony!"

"Ha, Shania," Twain replied.

"Is it two training sessions today?" Shania asked.

"Well, no," Twain said. "What's wrong?"

"I was waiting for you until the lunch got cold!" Shania sounded angry.

Twain raised his wrist to look at his watch. It was already 1 p.m.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Shania! I was dealing with things. I got so busy I forgot. I'll come out right away." While he was holding the phone, he hurriedly started getting into his car. Van Nistelrooy was right. He was also a man with a family. He could understand the want to be with family. "I am hanging up, Shania. I promise..."

Shania quickly interrupted him. "Slow down so you don't run into something bad. I was just a little worried that you weren't back yet. I'm OK, so drive slowly."

Twain opened his mouth but said nothing.

"See you later, Tony." Shania was visibly in a better mood. She gave a little kiss through the phone and hung up.

Twain was still holding his cell phone. He had kept the same stance since he got onto the car. He thought, Why play football? In order to make money. Why make money? In order to be able to have time with family. But, in order to make money, there is no time to spend with family. Then…

Players could play until 34 or 35 and choose to retire. They had most of their lives to spend with their loved ones. What about a head coach? Ferguson was 70 and still in his position as Manchester United manager.

Former Liverpool manager John Houlier was only home twice a year: once on his wife's birthday, and once on Christmas during his busiest period. He stayed at the hotel most of his time with the team.

England's head coach was the world's most highest paying coaching position, as well as the most elite in the eyes of many. In reality, many of England's coaches had been avoiding the position. Aside from the extraordinary pressure, England's head coach was busier than a club manager, and an England manager was almost as busy as a head of state. As a club manager, there could be some personal time every day if the person was good at time management. As an England manager, it was a 24-hour job.

Twain thought he was lucky. He had people like Dunn and Kerslake to help him with matters, so he could share some private moments with Shania. If he was the head coach, who had to handle everything, there might not even be time to flirt with Shania. Even so, when he was busy, Shania would retreat to a small corner of his life. He realized that he would sometimes neglect Shania. This was especially true when taking the team to play away from home or a week with two matches. In order to conveniently facilitate the management of the team and study tactics with his colleagues, he would stay in a hotel even if he was in Nottingham.

It would be good if Shania stayed busy. If she returned to Nottingham, the only thing waiting for her would be a big, deserted house with black paint.

At those times, he would be full of guilt. But, it was only guilt. He could not leave his job to spend time with his wife. He could not even make additional phone calls. The players needed to focus on the training ground and the game. The manager needed to consider 10 times more than that. As long as Twain was free, he would be always thinking about things like that. He was like a machine that functioned forever.

Sometimes, even with Shania, he would be absent-minded. It was not rare for her to be angry with him about it. It was impossible for a married couple to have no conflicts. Shania and Tony were both very rigid people. Regardless, in every quarrel, Twain always gave in to her. Once she got mad, he would immediately soften down.

He knew Shania was a sensible woman. She was usually unhappy because he gave her insufficient concern. His mind was always on football, but it had been like that since they met. Before their relationship was uncertain, she would be quietly jealous. Now, it was open envy.

Of course, he couldn't leave the job. He could only take the initiative to admit that he was wrong every time Shania was unhappy. As a gentleman, one should be able to have an open mind.

Van Nistelrooy's reason for retiring gave Twain a push, making him want to have that kind of life. Even he could be content under the blazing sun of summer. The seed of a life that required no worry and just being with his family was planted. He began to think very carefully about when he would choose to retire.

※※※

Shania waited at home for Twain. She was going to turn around and put the cold meals into the microwave to heat up, but she was hugged by him from behind instead.

"Hey, Tony?" Shania was able to feel Twain's nose coming and going around in her back. She was a little surprised by his sudden gesture of affection.

"Do you have any plans for the afternoon?" Twain asked as he buried his face in her shoulder.

"No, I do not," Shania replied.

"Do you have anywhere you want to go?" Twain asked.

"What's wrong with you? I'm not angry about what happened just now." Shania struggled gently, but she felt Twain hugging her with greater strength.

"Ruud is retiring," Twain said as he smelled her hair. "I advised him to stay but did not succeed. He said he wanted to spend more time with his family. I suddenly felt a little envious of him. So, where do you want to go?"

Shania let him rest on her shoulder and said, "I don't want to go anywhere."

Twain rolled his eyes. "You said you weren't angry."

"If you continue to hold me and not let me go and heat up the food, then I'll really get angry," she replied.

Twain hurriedly loosened his hands, but he still sniffed with a little affection. "There's an idiom in China that means looking at beautiful women will allow one to forget about hunger. Actually, I'm not hungry."

"Gynophagia [1]?" Shania frowned. "Ah! You're a pervert!"

Twain hurried to defend what he meant. "Nonsense! I'm talking about xiusekecan of Oriental culture, not gynophagia! They mean two things!"

Even though he was married to her, he sometimes had an unstoppable sexual fantasy about Shania. In all the fantasies, he never fancied that he was going to cut her head and dismember her.

Shania looked at Tony, whose face had changed, and said with a laugh, "Uncle Grey Wolf is hungry."

She set the food aside and began to unbutton her shirt. Halfway through, Twain could already see the seductive rounded chest behind the thin shirt. With the sunlight coming in from behind the window, the hazy reflection was like two jelly cakes wrapped in a layer of cream. It seemed gentle touch would cause it to wobble.

Shania wasn't wearing a bra. Twain unwittingly swallowed a gasp.

She laughed even more when she saw him like that. She put her hands down. As though she were doing a catwalk, she sauntered toward Twain, who was standing at the kitchen door. She had a sexy and seductive smile, which also meant trouble.

When she walked up to Twain, she relaxed her arms around his neck and put her face close to his. Her eyes were covered with a layer of water vapor.

With a voice that sounded excessively sweet, like honey sprinkled onto butter cake, she murmured, "How does Uncle Grey Wolf, who is excessively hungry, want to eat me?"

As Twain buried his face into her, his three last clear thoughts were, This type of life, on an afternoon, is too dirty! But, if I retire now, there would be a lot of such afternoons! Oh my God! It is really delicious…

[1] The word can also be translated literally in English as "beauty dining," but it is represented in the Chinese idiom "beauty dining" as a whole different scenario. Chinese idioms say "beauty dining" to praise women or beautiful scenery. In English, gynophagia literally means to "eat a woman." This is a kind of fetishism that often leads to sexual fantasies with violence and rape.