Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Rochemback himself had not expected such a miraculous effect for his first foul. For the price of a mere yellow card, he had made the opponent’s main forward leave the field with an injury. The price seemed a trifle in comparison. And even though he had received a yellow card, he did not need to worry about having to play more reservedly in defense. After Eastwood went off the field, Forest had no one who specialized as an attacking midfielder; there were not many opponents to deal with.
With needing to mark any Forest player now, Rochemback even had opportunities to dribble the ball forward and assist in the offense. With Forest adjusting, Sporting CP intended to take the chance and pull their scores closer amid the confusion.
Perhaps that tactic was not the most glamorous, but the manager of Sporting CP, José Peseiro, still had to praise Rochemback for his earlier kick. Shouldering the danger of possibly receiving a red card, he had helped the team deal with one of their most dangerous foes.
While Sporting CP was on the attack, Fábio Rochemback noticed from the backfield that almost every Forest player had returned to defend. The only player left on his side was a player as tall as a utility pole. Rochemback figured that he might as well try to participate in the attack and get a ball in or rack up assists, instead of staying in the back without much use.
Meanwhile, Albertini was directing George Wood to defend and take note of opponents possibly breaking in from the flanks. Wood was told to prepare himself to assist Ribéry at any time.
Wood nodded but his gaze was fixed on Rochemback, who was steadily moving closer.
He did not know the name of that person, but he remembered his face and number. Wood did not believe he would mistake him.
Pinto was currently in possession. He realized that the success rates of a forward pass were low. George Wood and Albertini had formed a wall in front and sealed off all possible passing routes. ( Updated by NovelFull.Com)
At this point, he heard someone calling from behind.
“João! João!”
It was Rochemback.
George Wood looked up. His gaze shot past Pinto’s shoulder to find Rochemback hiding behind Pinto’s back.
On hearing Rochemback’s call, Pinto passed the ball backward with his heel.
Almost at the same time, George Wood abandoned his defensive zone and rushed out; his target was the receiver, Rochemback!
As if he had not seen Wood, Rochemback kept his eyes on the ball and made a move to receive it.
The ball arrived and so did Wood.
Rochemback noticed Wood from the corner of his eye. Suddenly, a crazed idea emerged in his mind: why not take that silly lad down as well?
Rochemback moved the ball to the side in a bid to lure George Wood to commit a foul. So long as he made it look genuine, he might just force Number 13 right off the field!
Come on, boy! Come on!
I’m here, bastard!
George Wood flew out with a tackle even before he neared Rochemback. Rochemback had just finished turning when Wood’s right shoe landed on his left ankle!
Firmly and solidly, he stomped down.
With its loud but muffled thud, even the spectators on the viewing stands could clearly feel the power in his strike.
After the back tackle to Rochemback, George Wood continued sliding forward from the momentum. Meanwhile, Rochemback was sent flipping into the air, somersaulting before crashing back to the ground with grass clippings flying up and dropping back on him.
The raucous stadium lapsed into a momentary silence followed by a piercing whistle.
The referee ran to the scene of the incident, at the same time withdrawing a red card from his breast pocket to flash at George Wood. A tackle from the back; it was unquestionably an immediate red card.
Wood ignored the referee. He stood and immediately walked off the field. Even before he had struck out, he had known what was waiting for him. But that could not prevent him from taking this strike. Since he had achieved his motive, he could hardly care less about the penalty given to him.
After flashing the red card at George Wood, the referee again experienced an outburst of jeering and insults from the home team fans. From the fans’ perspective, since Wood was fouled out, Rochemback, who had similarly taken down Eastwood and given him an injury, should also have been given a red card.
Rochemback had achieved his aim. He had single-handedly caused Forest to lose two of their core players. The price was that he would probably be unable to continue playing this match. Rochemback only felt a numbness where his left ankle was, and nothing else. He tried to regain some form of control over it, but it was pointless. As a professional footballer, he knew that it was time for him to exit the field.
He had not expected George Wood to be so vicious, so quick. Wood had not at all been going for the ball. Right from the beginning, he had intended for Rochemback to go down!
George Wood calmly walked off the field at a languid pace. He was not in the least bit sorry or guilty about having injured someone. Furious players from Sporting CP tried to rush towards him to demand an explanation, but before they could even get close they were pushed away by Ashley Young and Viduka.
In an instant, the entire scene became chaotic again. Players from both teams gathered together with every intention of starting a fight. The referee had no choice but to leave behind the injured Rochemback and run towards the confrontational players amassed together, all the while blasting on his whistle. Of course, he also remembered to signal to the off-field to quickly bring in the stretcher.
Tang En saw the whole process from outside the field. He had already anticipated it from the moment he caught Wood rushing towards Rochemback. It was useless to say anything more; either way, the Forest team was fated to battle with only ten players.
He stood on the sidelines and waited for Wood to get off the field, stepping forward to give him a pat on the back.
“Go back to the locker room to shower and change.” He said.
There was no reproaching and no lamentation.
Wood nodded.
“And, clap for the fans to show your thanks.” Tang En instructed.
There had never been a player who would greet his fans after being fouled out; such an action was too provocative. Usually, the penalized player would be hanging his head and walking quickly to the locker room for fear of facing the fans. But Tang En insisted for Wood to do so as if in his eyes Wood was not being penalized, but being substituted as per usual.
Wood obediently raised his hands and clapped towards the spectators’ stand and at Forest’s fans in thanks.
The response?
From three of the stands, he received thunderous applause.
“What an unbelievable sight! George Wood, who fouled and violated his opponent, who was sent off the field with a red card, has become City Ground’s hero!”
To Sporting CP’s players, Wood’s actions were regarded as a provocation and an insult. Even the bench substitutes from the team rushed to the sidelines to make loud protests. Wood ignored them, continuing to wave to the fans as he walked towards the players’ corridor. What made José Peseiro, even more, unhappy was that Tony Twain did not seem shamed by the action. Instead, he was clapping alongside the fans for Wood!
“Mr. Tony! Do you still have any sense of sportsmanship?” Peseiro scolded Tony with his semi-fluent English.
Tang En replied with a beam. “That’s a good question, Mr. Peseiro. Please ask Fábio Rochemback on my behalf.”
“You…”
The Fourth Official appeared between the two and glared at them. Peseiro obediently returned to his manager’s seat. Tang En continued standing on the sidelines, his gaze turned towards the field.
The chaos had already settled. With the combined efforts of Hierro, Albertini, Edwin van der Sar, and other veterans, they had managed to stop the fight from erupting.
George Wood had already disappeared into the players’ corridor. The applause from the stands returned to jeers; jeers so overwhelmingly fierce that the players on the field almost forgot they still needed to continue the match.
David Kerslake walked up and stood next to Tang En. “What a terrible match; isn’t it, Tony?”
“You’re right. It is terrible, David.” Tang En said with gritted teeth. “Call Gunnarsson back. I think it’s time for him to play.”
