Eastwood was collapsed onto the ground. He struggled to get up, but it was clear that doing so was already beyond his ability.

Meanwhile, Fábio Rochemback was still busy explaining to the referee how he had not touched Eastwood and that his opponent was trying to deceive the referee to be awarded a free kick.

“Dammit!” Tang En who was watching Rochemback put on an act of innocence from outside the field cursed aloud in Chinese. He could care less about the strange looks from the people nearby. He could not stand having a liar hurt his players and then utilize his acting skills in front of the referee to escape punishment.

The Nottingham players rushed forward, intending to demand an explanation from Rochemback. Deftly, Rochemback’s teammates pulled him away in a hurry. They all knew about his temper; he could make a mountain out of a molehill and start fights over the smallest matters.

When Rochemback was still with Barcelona, he had also depended on his tough defense to eke out a position for himself in one of La Liga’s powerhouses. However, his temper was much too wild, and very few teams and managers were willing to put up with him. Finally, he could only leave Barcelona and seek opportunities in Portugal.

If they did not stop Rochemback from starting a fight, Sporting CP would end up with one less player on their side. If they lost a player in addition to already being behind 0:2, they could basically raise a white flag in surrender.

Numerous players from Sporting CP dashed up to surround Rochemback, whose expression was inordinately gleeful. They separated him from Nottingham Forest’s enraged members. The scene was a mess, and the referee had no choice but to blow hard on his whistle, reminding the mass of players to calm down. Sporting CP’s players, who had already benefited from the incident, tried to smooth things out as they held back Forest’s players. Those who could speak English well could assist in explaining: “Look, he didn’t mean to do it. It’s a football match, this sort of contact is inevitable, isn’t it…”

While Forest’s players amassed where the referee and Sporting CP’s players were, demanding a resolution, George Wood alone stood apart from them. His face was cold as if the situation before his eyes had nothing to do with himself. This made the reporters even more certain of their own thoughts: the relationship between George Wood and Freddy Eastwood could not be any worse! Now, after his teammate had gotten violated and everyone else on the team had gone forward to stand up for him, Wood alone was hiding in a corner instead, looking on impassively. What a beautiful image. Once they captured it and published it as the headlines of the newspaper, complete with some sort of shocking title, it would certainly have an earth-shattering effect. That would attract the attention of readers who would fight to purchase copies.

The reporters no longer saw the football field nor heard the racket from the spectators’ stand. Instead, they were looking at a mosaic. From afar, it looked like a spectators’ stand, a football stadium, a soccer field, and some lively players. But as they got closer, it became clear that they were dollar bills! Pieces and pieces of real dollar bills!

George Wood looks upon his teammate’s injury coldly!

Differences between George Wood and Eastwood exposed!

George Wood without a shred of responsibility!

Titles such as those rapidly formed within the minds of the reporters.

Amid the chaos between the referee and the players from both teams, Forest’s team doctors had rushed onto the field with a stretcher. After a brief examination, Fleming decided to bring Eastwood off the field to carry out further examination and treatment. The situation did not seem optimistic.

When the situation on the field got under control, the referee called out Rochemback from the crowd and flashed a yellow card at him.

In an instant, City Ground was again filled with ear-splitting jeers and boos. The fans of the home team were immensely dissatisfied with the referee’s decision. They could only use jeers and English cuss words to vent their unhappiness with the Italian referee. The players from Nottingham Forest, on the other hand, were unable to utilize such a direct manner to express their anger.

Team captain Albertini went forward in hopes of a brief chat with the referee, also from Italy, to understand his decision. The referee said, “The tackle came from the side. According to the rules, it was not a serious foul that required an immediate red card. Naturally, you will have your own considerations. However, as the main referee, it is a very important aspect of my work to maintain the balance of the match.”

The referee only explained so much to Albertini because they were countrymen. Otherwise, he would not have even bothered.

“But his foul caused an injury to our player…” Albertini pointed to Eastwood, who was being carried off the field.

The referee shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Demi, I feel sorry for that too. But the rules do not account for resulting player injuries nor the severity of any such injury. If he was tackled from the back, even if your teammate were not injured, I would have still given him a red card immediately. But with the current situation, I don’t have a choice.”

Albertini knew the referee had told him only the truth. After all, they were all Italians, and there was no need for them to hide anything while conversing in their own language. Albertini’s influence in the scene of Italian football was still present. It had not waned because he had left the country. Before, he had worked as an official within the Italian Footballers’ Association. In fact, at one point, he was thought to be the most likely candidate to succeed the chair position of the association. If he had continued living in Italy…

After receiving such an explanation from the referee – one he was not happy about but could only accept – Albertini turned around and took his leave. The grating jeers from the spectators’ stand showed no sign of weakening, and the fans had transferred all their displeasure with Sporting CP onto the Italian referee.

Italy’s football scene had always been unclean; the whole world knew that. Inevitably, the English fans made their own conclusions and wondered if Sporting CP had bribed the Italian referee.

Eastwood was still receiving treatment outside the field. Albertini raised his voice and shouted to his teammates. “Alright! Let us keep our focus on the field; the match is far from over!”

※※※

Coincidentally, the stretcher Eastwood was lying on was placed near the sidelines of Nottingham Forest’s technical area. Tang En saw the three team doctors surrounding the stretcher. After a brief hesitation, he decided to go over to check on the situation.

“How is it, Gary?” He saw the group of them in a long discussion and felt that things must not be too optimistic.

As expected, Gary Fleming was frowning deeply when he looked up to respond to Tang En. He pointed at Eastwood on the stretcher and said, “It’s bad, Tony. I can’t make an accurate diagnosis here. He has to be sent to the hospital for a more detailed examination.”

Tang En’s heart dropped. That was the worst case scenario.

“I don’t think it’s too bad, Boss,” Eastwood said through a grimace of pain and tightened brows.

“It’s not too bad, Freddy. But you certainly won’t be able to rejoin the match today.” Tang En comforted him and moved away. Fleming rose and sensibly followed him.

“Call the ambulance” Tang En instructed. “And tell me the truth, Gary. How bad is it?”

“Tony, before he came over, do you remember him getting his leg broken by Wood?”

Tang En nodded.

“The injured spot is now only slightly better than that was.”

“F**k!” Tang En cursed lowly. He already knew how bad this would be.

The ambulance from the Royal Hospital of Nottingham University, which was stopped outside, swiftly entered the stadium compounds. They picked up Eastwood from the sidelines with Fleming also getting on board. Under the gaze of countless spectators, the ambulance sped out of City Grounds. Through the whole process, the TV camera kept going back to focus on it. It was obvious that the severity of Eastwood’s injury was unexpected. The culprit behind it, Rochemback, likely felt the same way.

After seeing the ambulance off, Tang En turned his attention back to the person next to him. It was Peter Crouch, the tall center forward, who had already changed and gotten ready. Tang En sighed. He did not expect to have to so quickly use his first substitution. Although they were leading by two goals in the match, it had suddenly developed into a much more difficult situation.

“Peter. After you get in… just play the same as in usual practice. You don’t have to take on all of Freddy’s responsibilities. Take turns with Viduka…”

※※※

After sending Crouch into the field, Tang En returned to the manager’s seat. Immediately after sitting down, David Kerslake anxiously asked him, “How’s Eastwood?”

“Very bad,” Tang En answered as he stared into the field. “I have an awful feeling about this. It’s possible that the Romani will have to miss out on all the upcoming matches in the season…”

Kerslake was stunned by his words and fell silent, asking nothing further.

Tang En did not have any confidence about the effect of the hasty substitution. He also could not bring himself to care about how Crouch and Viduka’s stylistic clash might cause Forest’s offense to become disorganized. He only hoped to hold on for the next ten minutes and work on a more detailed adjustment during halftime.

Who was it exactly that had created such a messy situation? Tang En cast his gaze towards the other half of the field with Sporting CP, spotting Rochemback with ease. Of course, Tang En knew that both teams on the field saw each other as enemies. For their own victory, it was very common to make use of fouling tactics to take out the most threatening player on the opposing team. However, Tang En could not accept it happening to himself.

Fábio Rochemback!

You’ve succeeded!

I will remember you!




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