96 A Fateful Showdown Part 2 (1/2)
Chapter 96: A Fateful Showdown Part 2
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Can't shake him off?
Still a boy, Fàbregas' competitive spirit rose within. He forcefully shoved backwards a little, hoping to create a little distance that would allow him to move. He did not expect his opponent to remain motionless. It was as if he had struck a huge stone wall, and the rebounded force almost propelled him forward. The stumbling Fàbregas suddenly had an idea.
He staggered forward and knocked the ball ahead, chasing after it. Then, when he felt that pressure slightly ease, he immediately made a feint. He made Wood think that he was going to change his direction to the left, but he quickly moved the football to the right, and turned around at the same time!
The inexperienced Wood was indeed fooled. When he saw Fàbregas' upper body moved to the left, he shifted his focus accordingly. And then he realized that his opponent had fled to the other side!
Has he broken through?
This thought flashed across Wood's mind, and another sentence sounded at the same time, ”If he breaks through, then you must foul!”
He did not forcibly return to his center of gravity. Instead he just seized the opportunity to turn left and circled a long way to the right. After taking huge strides, he was now running neck and neck with Fàbregas again!
It was indeed a terrifying burst of energy!
At this point, Wood could choose to continue to close in on Fàbregas, so that he could not easily move the ball and make a pass. But Wood's mind only had the one thought: ”use a foul to stop number 25 from breaking through.” So, he simply used his foot to kick off the ball, but he also brought down Fàbregas at the same time.
The referee's whistle finally blew, and Nottingham Forest's number 55 had committed a foul.
”Bastard! There wasn't even a verbal warning!” Brady was dissatisfied and complained on the sidelines.
Wenger, sitting next to him, said nothing. Now his attention had shifted from Twain to this mysterious number 55. It was not easy for Cesc to be so pathetic, even if his opponent was two or three years older than him.
Who was he? What was his football performance in the past? How big could his grooming prospects be?
It was interesting that he had come to Nottingham with his team, just to see the performances of Fàbregas, Clichy, and Senderos. But he did not expect to find such an interesting young man.
With Le Professeur's experience and foresight, he could already tell that Wood was not experienced enough, but his physical fitness had greatly made up for the gap with Fàbregas. In addition, Fàbregas was not familiar with Wood and therefore was at a loss. If there was another game, he believed that Wood would not be able to mark Fàbregas so easily. But that was not important. The important thing was that Wenger could see the potential in this kid, a potential diamond in the rough.
Wenger straightened up and turned his gaze toward Tony Twain, who was directing the match on the sidelines. No matter what the final result of this match was, he could perhaps find the man and talk to him after the match had ended.
As Wenger was quietly inspecting Wood from the sidelines, Wood, on the field, had once again successfully blocked Fàbregas' offense. Fàbregas finally found the opportunity to face Wood. He intended to force a breakthrough past this annoying person. He did not expect that the common problem of ”slow turn” for defensive players would not be a problem for Wood. Although at the time when he decided to turn his body, he was indeed slow—he only turned when he saw Fàbregas dribbling the ball past him—and it looked like he was a step behind Fàbregas. But what really happened?
Fàbregas found out that he could not outrun this big guy. He always easily appeared beside him. The only thing he was able to take advantage of was that he had more experience than this player. He could trick him into committing a foul, and then he could gain an offensive free kick.
The match seemed to become a one-on-one fight between him and the opponent number 55, but no one raised any objections. This kind of game was supposed to be a contest between the best players.
Arsène Wenger looked at Fàbregas who was exerting all his strength to play against Wood on the field, and thought of how Cesc was still younger.
He said to Brady, ”Liam, let Cesc go back.” He made a recall gesture.
”Do you mean... withdraw him from his current position?” Brady was surprised.
”Well, from the center midfielder to a defending midfielder. Pull him to that line in front of the full back and farther away from number 55. Let him reduce the number of his assists, use long passes and direct passes to breach the opponent's line of defense.”
Brady took a glance at Wenger and knew what the decision meant—Fàbregas was forced to avoid number 55's dominance. A nice way of saying it would be ”strategic retreat and diversion”, a not-so-nice way to say ”escape”!
”This...” Brady was a little worried that doing so would hurt Fàbregas' confidence and spirit.
”It's okay. Cesc is smart. He'll understand.”
Brady stood up, walked up to the sidelines, and yelled, ”Fàbregas!” When the Spaniard looked at him, he leaned his head to the side and waved his hand backwards. ”Defending midfielder!”
Fàbregas' gaze swept past Brady and then stopped at Wenger. Le Professeur was expressionless, he said nothing and did nothing. He nodded and turned to run back.
When he saw his prey did not advance and had instead retreated, Wood was a little at a loss, did he need to follow him?