832 The Real Targe

A helicopter flew across the top of the City Ground Stadium and went past the Trent River before making a U-turn.

Looking down from the helicopter, one could see countless people that had congregated at the City Ground Stadium located south of the Trent River. The streets around the stadium were also heavily congested.

The walkie-talkie on a policeman's shoulder continued to transmit static. He looked up at the helicopter that had flown over his head before returning his gaze to his surroundings. A group of Forest fans walked past him while singing a song,

"Forest! Forest! We are Nottingham Forest!"

"Forest! Forest! We are Nottingham Forest!"

The sounds of people singing assaulted him from all directions, but they soon passed him by and surged into the City Ground Stadium near him.

"Forest. Forest. We are Nottingham Forest…" The policeman softly sang along to the song.

"… Bzzt… 0415. Report the situation at your side. Over… Bzzt…" Static noises interfered with the person's voice.

"This is 0415. Everything's normal. Over."

"Forest! Forest! There's no battle we can't win! Forest! Forest! We are Nottingham Forest…" The policeman continued to sing along to the song before he turned around and switched on the radio in his car.

"… As we can see from the screen, the buses for both teams have been parked right outside the City Ground Stadium. The players are all making their way out of the buses right now. An exciting match will be presented right before you in thirty minutes time! Stay tuned after the break."

"Go go go go!" Kerslake shouted at the top of his voice in the locker room. "I want all of you to start feeling tense! This is the Champions League!"

He then urged the players to go and get their warm-ups done.

The players ran out of the locker room right after they got dressed. None of them dared to waste even a second before their boss. They knew very well what competition they were about to play in. They didn't need the assistant manager to remind them at all.

The Forest this season harboured a far greater ambition as compared to previous years.

Twain ran into Wenger by the side of the pitch when he walked out. The two engaged in small talk.

"This is my third time seeing you this week. I think I'll get bored of seeing you."

Wenger laughed. "I don't quite like seeing this face of yours either."

"The match schedule is sh*tty… Oh, right. I need to confirm something with you, Arsene."

"Hmm?"

"Would we still be able to stand here and talk like this if I were to defeat Arsenal?"

"You are that confident?" Wenger didn't answer his question. Instead, he asked Twain another question of his own.

"It is a possibility, isn't it?"

"Ha! Save the talk for when you truly defeat me." Wenger turned around and left. In the end, he never answered Twain's question.

It was a difficult question for Wenger to answer. He wasn't someone who could wholeheartedly accept a loss and congratulate another for his victory. Additionally, he was unwilling to think about losing, because the moment you think about it, the thought will linger in your mind and continue to grow bigger. It was just like planting the devil's seed inside of you. Eventually, you wouldn't be able to shake off the thought: are we really going to lose?

Twain smiled to himself as he watched Wenger's back. Fifteen minutes later, the team returned to the locker room after completing their warm-ups. Twain looked at his players. The very first sentence he said caused them to burst out laughing. "Is there anyone here who thinks we are playing a league game?"

Laughter resounded in the locker room.

"Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal… This is our third time facing them in a match. I hope none of you got bored of it. Ah…" Twain sighed. "I know it's not easy to face a tough opponent consecutively for three straight matches, but I'm sorry—I won't go easy on any of you because of that. I would never say something stupid like 'just try your best' or 'don't have any regrets.' What I want from you guys has always been very simple, and it has never changed, either. It is…"

Twain drew a deep breath and was just about to say the words when the players roared in unison, "To win!"

Twain was dumbstruck. A moment later, he smiled and snapped his fingers. "Looks like I have to change my lines now. That's right. It's to win. I don't want anything else but to win. It doesn't matter how tough our opponent is. It also doesn't matter how difficult a situation we're in. All I want is to win. Deal with all the opponents before you and become the champions of everything before you even think about resting and enjoying your holidays. Now's not the time to relax just yet."

Twain paused. "I want all of you to keep this fight in you from today all the way till… Till the night of May 22. Don't slack off for even a moment…" He lowered his head and went silent. He didn't try to stir up his players' emotions even more.

The players must have thought that their boss was behaving oddly. Silence ensued for a period of time. Everyone in the locker room was waiting for Twain to speak again.

Twain finally raised his head after a while. He flashed a smile before everyone and said, "Let's create a season that none of you can ever forget throughout your entire footballing career. Let's win… the Treble."

Twain's final few words sent shivers down everyone's spines. They felt like a ball of fire had been ignited within them, and it started to blaze.

The treble! That's something so many people crave…

To achieve the treble, a club had to win its national league competition, its main national cup competition, and a continental trophy, which would normally be the Champions League.

No other club in the whole of Europe has ever managed to achieve it ever since Manchester United in 1999. Liverpool fans have jokingly said that they have achieved the "quintuple," but they were only referring to how they had won the Champions League five times in the past. Similarly, Barcelona had only managed to achieve the Double by winning its league competition and Champions League while at its peak. They were unable to win the Copa del Rey in that same year.

It's very challenging to achieve the "Treble." Luck plays a huge part in it. But, it is also precisely why it holds so much prestige among all the European teams.

All the players' faces lit up at the mention of the word "Treble." In their minds, they envisioned a future where they achieved it.

On May 11, we will bring the Premier League trophy back to this stadium. On May 17, we will bring the FA Cup trophy back to this stadium. And lastly, on May 22, we too will bring the Champions League trophy back to the stadium!

The thought of those scenes would get anyone fired up.

When the players shook hands prior to the start of the match, Fàbregas felt George Wood exert force while shaking his hand, and he felt a little happy at the fact. He thought that Wood was just like him and was full of a fighting spirit going into the match. In truth, Wood was only excited from hearing Twain say the word "treble" earlier.

"The match has started. Nottingham Forest has made full use of their home advantage, and they are attacking Arsenal from all directions! They are very ferocious with their attacks! I really didn't expect them to go on the offense right at the start of the match…"

The commentator was surprised by how Forest had adopted an aggressive playing style at the start of the match. He didn't know that the team was only acting that way because of what Twain had said before the start of the match. His words had stirred up the players' emotions, and they had gone into the match with a stronger drive to win.

Wenger didn't look the least bit surprised as he sat at the technical area. He didn't know what Twain had said to his players prior to the start of the match, but Forest being so aggressive with their attacks was a part of his plans.

He told his players that Forest would definitely attack them ferociously at the start of the match and that it was all right to let them attack. The moment Forest's attacks weakened, however, the stage would be theirs.

Forest would definitely go all out during its defense, and that would greatly deplete their stamina. Therefore, Wenger didn't think that it was a big deal if Arsenal didn't get a decent chance at goal. It also didn't matter if they didn't score a goal either because it would be mission accomplished if they were able to greatly deplete Forest's stamina in the first half.

However, Wenger didn't get to see the scene that he was waiting for. In the twenty-first minute of the first half, Arsenal committed an error in its defense. Bacary Sagna erred in the way he dealt with the ball when he was under pressure from Fernández. The pass that he made didn't have much power behind it, and it was quickly intercepted by Şahin.

Şahin then passed the ball straight forward, and Ibišević was deemed to be onsite when he received the pass. He was able to easily slip the ball past Manuel Almunia, who had rushed out of the goalpost in an effort to stop him.

The goal sent the whole of City Ground Stadium into uproar. Twain stood up and embraced the people around him as he celebrated the goal. He felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"SUPER IBI!" Deafening cheers erupted in the stands.

The commentator excitedly announced, "That is his twentieth goal of the season! The Bosnian striker is definitely Tony Twain's most trusted striker!"

Wenger didn't react in the slightest when Forest celebrated the goal. He had expected Forest to score a goal…

Forest tried to take advantage of the momentum that was in their favor, and they continued to attack Arsenal's half of the pitch mercilessly for a while. However, they weren't able to break down Arsenal's defense a second time. Arsenal was able to stabilize their defense after the twenty-seventh minute of the match, and that was also when they started going on the counterattack.

They played a kind of football that belonged solely to them. They controlled the ball at their feet exquisitely, and every pass that they made was fascinating. Watching them play football was just like watching a classical music concert. The ball was like a series of musical notes that wandered about their feet. A beautiful melody would play with every move that they made.

As for Nottingham Forest, they could only go on the defense and follow the ball wherever it went. They tried to snatch the ball from Arsenal when the latter had made their way into their half, but the Arsenal players were able to make use of a succession of quick passes to deal with Forest's attempts, and they didn't allow the ball to stop moving.

Fàbregas was the core of Arsenal's tactics for the match. He didn't need to carry the ball forward and get past a bunch of players all by himself. He also didn't need to shoot the goal into the goalpost. All he needed to do was position himself in the middle of the pitch and help to distribute the ball. Every single Arsenal player would pass the ball over to him and let him decide where the ball should go, be it the front, the back, the left, or the right. He was just like a super calculator. All the information that needed to be processed would be sent to him for processing first before it was relayed to the rest of the Arsenal players. He was undoubtedly the core player of the Arsenal team.

George Wood was the player who was assigned to mark Fàbregas in the match. This arrangement appeared to have fired up Fàbregas. There was a period of time in the match where he didn't even let the ball stop at his feet for a single second. He was well aware of the positions of every single player on the pitch before he received the ball. Thus, he was able to pass the ball straight away after the ball reached his feet.

Wood would always go away empty-handed every time he ran up to Fàbregas to try and intercept the ball.

The commentator couldn't help but heap praises upon Fàbregas. "His positional play and passing abilities are just works of art. His every move might look random to some, but they are actually deeply connected to the situation on the pitch at that very moment. He is able to grasp the positions of his opponents, and even George Wood can't do anything to stop him! A turn and a pass! The ball rolls into an empty space, and Sagna has moved forward to pick up the ball! How on earth has he managed to see what's going on behind him? This is absolutely fascinating! What a wonderful pass! Arsenal might have a talented young British midfielder named Wilshere on its team, but he certainly can't hold a candle against Fàbregas!"

Fàbregas enjoyed the feeling of having complete control and understanding of the situation on the pitch. He would always smile inwardly every time George Wood charged at him after he had passed the ball away.

Arsenal performed exceptionally well during this period of time when Fàbregas was on top of his game. Their passes and coordination dazzled and fascinated the crowd, but sadly, they were still not able to find their way past Akinfeev's goalpost.

It might be an exaggeration to say that "Arsenal likes to pass the ball into the goalpost," but it was exactly what Arsenal seemed to be doing at the moment.

It didn't matter how well the Arsenal players could pass if they couldn't find the back of the net. They needed to shoot to score.

Carlos Vela was very agile as a player. However, he was a little too thin and weak, which caused him to be unable to gain an advantage in Forest's penalty box.

Robin van Persie, on the other hand, didn't seem to have brought his "shooting boots" because all the shots he made weren't on target.

Towards the end of the first half, Fàbregas suddenly changed what he had been doing all along. Instead of passing the ball to the other Arsenal players, he decided to shoot at the goal right before Wood! Fortunately, Akinfeev was fully focused on the match. He pounced on the ball and sent it out of bounds. His efforts ensured that Arsenal could not level the score before the end of the first half.

"Fàbregas has stepped up to the plate at a time when Arsenal's forwards have not been reliable. His shot… nearly went in."

The commentator was extremely disappointed at how things had turned out. Both teams had played good football for at least half of the first half, but they were only able to score one goal. It felt very unsatisfying.

Arsenal's attacks and coordination in the latter half of the first half was a joy to watch. It would make any spectator feel like he was enjoying a cup of tea while relaxing in the warm sunlight. All that was missing, however, was a plate of freshly baked cookies to go with the tea. It felt a little dull to simply be drinking tea.

Arsenal definitely deserved a goal with the way they had been playing.

At halftime, Twain commended his team for their performances in the first few minutes of the first half. He didn't criticize their performances in the latter half, however, because he felt that Arsenal had performed very well then, and it would be unfair to criticize his players for their opponents' good performance.

Twain decided that he had to change his tactics for the second half. If Arsenal were to continue playing the way that they had in the first half, then it would only be a matter of time before they scored a goal.

"George, you weren't able to mark Fàbregas tightly enough in the first half. You can't allow him to make passes that easily before you… The number of fouls that you created in the first half can be counted with my hand." Twain raised five of his fingers. "Look at Fàbregas' jersey when he walked off the pitch! It was as though he had just picked it up from the cleaners! What a disgrace, George!"

Twain wasn't displeased with his team, but Wood was the only one he didn't show any mercy to. Wood didn't utter a word in response. He accepted Twain's criticisms.

"In the second half…" Twain spoke in a low voice as he contemplated. "If Arsenal continues to play the way that they did in the first half… we will make our defense compact and force them to only be able to attack down the flanks. We have a goal on our hands, after all."

Twain laughed when he finished his words. "Let's see how Arsenal passes the ball into our goalpost!"