1033 Epilogue: When I’m Sixty Years Old (1/2)

The yellow light from the crystal chandeliers on the ceiling could not light up the bar completely. However, in the constantly rainy late autumn, it could bring a hint of warmth to the heart.

Many people had come to the bar with the old-fashioned deco. They gathered in groups of three or four to chat about the day or perhaps other things. However, everyone glanced at the door as if waiting for someone.

Soothing music was playing in the bar. It was an old song, the Beatles' When I'm Sixty-Four.

When I get older losing my hair.

Many years from now.

Will you still be sending me a Valentine?

Birthday greetings, bottle of wine.

...

The bar was not loud, so the Beatles' soft voices were clear. Everyone kept their voices down and chatted in low tones.

Outside the door hung a sign – Closed for Business.

With a head of white hair, the somewhat hunched Kenny Burns sat behind a somewhat damaged wooden bar, holding a glass in one hand and a towel in the other.

His eyes looked straight ahead, through the old-styled glass window covered with a layer of condensation, to see outside.

A construction site had already broken ground across the street. The white fence was pushed to the ground and it became so dirty that its original appearance could not be discerned. An excavator was parked on the side of the road. The rain was a bit heavy, and work has stopped on the construction site.

It was still a row of two-story residential buildings a year ago.

It was said that a big supermarket would be built here in two years. Behind the Forest Bar, there was also a construction site where several high-rise buildings would be built for new offices. Wilford had become the new development center in Nottingham.

The bar on the corner stood alone for a long time between the two construction sites, fully surrounded by construction machinery. It was like a solitary island surrounded by mechanical monsters.

There was a roar of a car engine outside the door, followed by the sound of a car stopping. Hearing the sound, the people in the room stopped talking and turned their gazes to the entrance.

The person who pushed the door open was a woman. Everyone was a little disappointed at first, but then they all stood up.

”Madam,” They all deferentially greeted the woman who only stood at the door.

”You guys gave me a shock, suddenly standing up like this...” The speaker pushed the door open but did not come in right away. Instead, she was waiting for someone.

Seeing her like this, everyone waited as well. Each person stretched their neck out and gazed outside the door, like ducks hanging from the crossbar.

The second person who appeared at the door was Wood. Wood took over the woman's job and held the door. The woman stepped outside.

”Don't grasp onto me. Do I look like I can't walk?”

”All right, all right, you can lead me along if you want. Just hold my arm and it will do. But don't make it look like you're lending a hand to support a patient...”

Before the voice faded away, its owner appeared at the door.

When the slightly hunched figure came in, everyone in the bar opened their mouths and shouted, ”Boss!”

Seeing the scene in front of him, the aging man opened his mouth and laughed. He raised his hands and said, ”Long time no see, guys.”

The whole bar was waiting for the man - Tony Twain was finally here.

The woman supporting him was naturally his wife, Shania.

※※※

Twain took off the old-fashioned wide-brimmed hat he was wearing, and Wood tried to catch it, but Shania got to it first. Next, a gray scarf and black windbreaker were also handed to her. Shania went to hang up the clothes, and Twain sat down in his chair, surrounded by people. He raised the glass of soda water on the table and said, ”I'm not drinking any alcohol. You all do as you'd like.”

Following which, everyone came up, wanting to talk to Twain.

The first person to succeed was Kenny Burns, the owner of the bar, a man older than everyone present.

He walked slowly toward Twain, pulled out a chair and sat down. Upon seeing this, everyone discreetly drew back.

”Look at you, getting so old,” Twain scoffed at Burns.

”You're no better, Tony,” Burns looked at the man opposite. His hair was much whiter than before, but he was in good spirits. Twain's complexion was ruddy, and he appeared stronger than himself.

However, on second thought, he himself was 75 years old while Tony was only 60, 15 years younger than he was. Thinking back, was he not full of vigor, hale and hearty when he was 60 years old? People would always grow old. It was the law of nature.

”I almost lost my way coming here. The area has changed a lot. Ha!” Twain laughed.

When he sat in the car on the way here before, he started to laugh at the sight of the environment and Burns' bar. Neither Shania nor Wood, who was driving the car, knew why he was laughing. Of course, they would not find out. They might never know for the rest of their lives. Seeing the Forest bar surrounded by construction machinery and a completely dug out construction site, the word ”holdout” naturally sprang into Twain's mind. In Twain's view, Kenny Burns was clearly the holdout here. The buildings adjacent to the bar were all demolished, only the bar remained. However, it was said that it could not escape the fate of being torn down.

”It's a re-planning of the area,” Burns said as he looked out of the window at the excavator. ”By the time it is over, my bar will be closed.”

Twain was not surprised. He nodded and said, ”And what will you do?”

”I'll go home.”

Hearing him say that, Twain paused for a moment and then realized that Burns' home was not here, but in Scotland. He had lived here for decades and this made people think he had always been from Nottingham...

The City Ground stadium was torn down and the Wilford training base was also demolished. Now even the bar had to be torn down. Everything that had witnessed the past years disappeared one by one before his eyes. Twain suddenly became quiet.

Burns knew what Twain was thinking. He lightly patted the table. ”Fortunately, bars and pitches can be torn down, but memories can't be taken away.”

Once he said it, there was a smile on Twain's face. He thought of a song. Burns certainly had not heard the song, but the meaning was exactly the same. He nodded and said, ”The memories are still there. Where are John and the others?”

He also remembered the fans.

”It's not as crazy as it used to be. After all, they're older. Now it's their children's turn to be crazy. It's just that they don't come to my place. The young people say my place looks gloomy and not suitable for young people.”

Twain chuckled. Burns' bar did look old and dilapidated. Even though he kept it clean and tidy, he could not get rid of the feeling of a yellowing photograph and old film. It did not change much from when he first came here, except that there were more group photographs of himself leading the team to win championship titles during those years. However, those group photographs now looked a bit faded.

”I haven't seen them in a long time...”

Twain muttered to himself.

Today was his first visit to the bar in ten years. There was a sense that things had remained the same, but people had changed.

Since his retirement ten years ago, he had traveled with his wife all over the world. They had lived in the West Coast of the United States for a while and spent some time in = Nottingham. They even lived in China and people who did not know them thought they had been in China for many years.

As the media had stated, Twain's retirement life was quite carefree. If it had not been for a problem with his health early last year, he might have been able to continue to live a life free of worries.

”They would sometimes ask about you,” Burns said as he looked out of the window at the excavator. ”A bunch of the old guys would get together and talk about you. I had seen John admonish his son, slap him across his head and scold him for bullsh*tting about things he hadn't experienced, ha...”

Twain was curious about what John's son had said.

”It was nothing. John just said Dunn did just as well as you.”

Hearing these, Twain laughed mischievously.

”John scolded him for that. Dunn only won two championships in ten years. It's a far cry as compared to your 16 years and 16 championships. How could he do as well as you? The old guys always like to remember the past...”

”Wrong. When they start to recall the past, it means they are old,” Twain corrected.

”Aren't we reminiscing about the past now?”

”That means we're old, too,” Twain replied.

※※※

Pepe and Piqué got hold of a few people from the defensive line of that time and came up to take a group picture with Twain. Twain told them he had his own bronze statue outside the Crimson Stadium, which was completed four years ago. Pepe said that with the real man in front of them, why would they go and take a picture with the statue? His words were widely endorsed by the guys. After putting it to a vote, Twain became the top candidate for group photographs.

Several people stood in front of the camera, crowding Twain in the middle, and smiled brilliantly under the flash.

With the help of his grandfather, Piqué joined the Barcelona club's board of directors and was expected to become the club's president.

Pepe, who traveled between Brazil and Portugal, had opened restaurants in both locations. He no longer worked in a football-related field. Pepe looked a little thicker than before with a round stomach and stood out in the crowd. His face was even rounder.

Gareth Bale, Rafinha, Akinfeev, as well as Pepe and Piqué, the Forest team's main defensive line in its heyday, gathered around Twain, giving a sense that they had gone back in time. The Russian had returned to his native country and became the goalkeeper coach of the FC Lokomotiv Moscow team. He was currently the goalkeeper coach of the Russian national team. Most players chose football-related jobs when they retired.

Rafinha, who was hired by Arsenal, became Arsenal's football scout in Brazil, in charge of unearthing Brazilian talent for the club.

Bale joined the Football Association of Wales. He became the most successful player in Welsh football after Giggs. It only made sense for him to enter the Football Association. Now the naughty appearance of the ”little monkey” of that time could not be glimpsed in Bale. Impeccably attired, he was infinitely closer to looking like an official.

However, when Twain called him ”little monkey”, he still happily answered to it.

After the people from the rear defensive line left, a few people from the midfield approached. Twain was surprised and asked, ”Did you all plan this? Are you all coming in waves?”

Everyone laughed and gathered around him. They took another group photograph.

When Ribéry left the Forest team at the time under the cloud of suspicion that he had run away, a clash erupted when everyone met on the pitch later. Now, when the past was mentioned, it felt more like ”all was forgiven and forgotten with a smile”. It was just that his smile was still ugly to look at as the scars on his face were still there. As he got older, he was less scary, however. He now ran his own agency and became an agent for a number of French players. He was considered a successful businessman. In the Nottingham Forest team, there was currently a French player he had introduced as an agent.

The two men took the first turn and then everyone came up to take photographs with Twain. There were group shots and single shots. Twain took advantage of the time during the photo-taking with them to chat briefly and catch up with everyone.

Those guys, who shook up stadiums and went on a rampage in the European football world, had all retired and became portly middle-aged men. Some of them were still in touch, while the other people only met again because of the gathering. Most had other careers and lives. But today, in the bar which was about to be torn down, they had regained their original identity as Nottingham Forest players under the command of Tony Twain.

After the group photographs, they continued to chat together in groups of three or four, recounting the football events they missed for many years or chatting about those extraordinary old days on the field.

Twain did not participate. He sat with his wife, Shania, quietly looking at everything in front of his eyes and feeling deeply satisfied.

He suddenly remembered a long-forgotten past matter. He usually did not think of it at all.

If he remembered correctly, it was in May 2004, when he was here for a similar party. However, the leading characters at the time were Brian Clough and his men. They were celebrating the 15th anniversary of winning the Champions League. At the time, watching those people talking arrogantly together and recalling the times during the 70s, he felt very envious as an outsider. He had a fantasy in his mind that one day he, too, would be able to sit here with his former men and remember the days of being the king of Europe.

Now the fantasy came true. The setting remained the same, but with different people.

As the assistant manager for the championship team, Dunn was also invited today. He was now the manager of Nottingham Forest and had taken a special leave of absence in order to attend the gathering. At this moment, he was sitting aside, chatting with his old colleagues. Twain found him. He did not know if he would share the same vision of passing time at this point.

He got up and walked over slowly. He sat down beside the coaches.

”Guys, I'm so glad to see you're all here.”

Everyone got up to show respect in succession when they saw Twain coming over. They were only seated after Twain sat down.

Twain glanced around and asked, ”Where's Freddy?”