Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
He was indeed busy. Being a Premier League manager was completely different from being an English Football League Championship team manager. Therefore, he could only smile at Ian MacDonald’s words.
“Oh, yes, I need to tell you something, Tony. I’m planning to hang up my boots.”
Twain did not react at first. “Hang up your boots?” What was the gatekeeper hanging up his boots for? But soon he understood and raised his voice in surprise. “You’re retiring!”
“Yes, my health isn’t so great. My kids are adamant that I quit.” Ian cleared his throat. “Initially I had said I would resign from the club next January. But I think I’m going to wait until the end of the season. I want to see the team go a little further. When the players stop playing, don’t they normally say they’re hanging up their boots? Well, I want to hang up my boots too!” Ian grinned and chuckled.
Twain was at a loss for words. He knew that Ian was in bad health and had been in the hospital for a period of rest some time ago. The club had temporarily transferred a security guard from the youth team to help out. At that time, Twain had felt unused to seeing a stern, cold-faced uniformed security guard at the gate day in and day out, and not that old man who always smiled and greeted everyone.
Considering the elderly man’s health, leaving the post was indeed a wise choice, and Twain had no reason to stop him. That was also why he was at a loss for words.
Seeing that Twain was quiet, Ian said, “But it’s good. Now, I can go watch a live match. It’s been a long time since I last watched a Forest game at City Ground. Sometimes…” He looked back at the radio on the table. “It’s uncomfortable to listen to the radio here and not watch the game.”
Twain’s lips quivered. “You’re still not used to it?”
“Of course I am. After all, I’ve worked here for more than ten years.” MacDonald turned to look at the inside of the training base. “When I first started standing here, it was Brian Clough’s last season with the Forest team. I can still clearly remember the day when ‘Big ‘Ead’ (Brian Clough’s nickname) bid farewell to this place. He was alone, holding his dog as he walked out…” MacDonald pointed to the road in front of the gate and waved his hand. “When he passed me by, he said to me: ‘Goodbye, Ian. I wish you all the best.’ Then I said: ‘Good luck to you too, sir.’ Then he walked away without turning back and was gone.
“I’ve seen a lot of people walk out of this gate and never come back. Sometimes I think, ‘It’s really unlucky of me. Just when I was getting close with them, they’re all gone. The Forest team was also relegated.’ Then I saw more people come in, the Forest team was promoted, and relegated again, promoted again, and then relegated… After we were beaten by Manchester United by 1:8, they came here listlessly to start another new day of training. That was a tough time.
“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you here, Tony?”
Twain shook his head.
“I thought, another unlucky chap!” Ian MacDonald guffawed. He laughed so happily that he coughed.
Twain laughed with him.
“I had seen many new managers smugly take on their new roles and leave here without a choice in the end. I had no hope for you at all. At the time, I was worried about whether the Forest team would disappear from here because of bankruptcy. I think many people were worried about that. No one cared about how the new manager was.”
“But you’ve proven that you’re different, and the most special one. Thank you, Tony.”
Twain was about to say something when he saw MacDonald wave his hand in the direction behind him, “The chairman’s car is here, Tony.”
The red-colored Audi A6 stopped beside Twain during their conversation.
“Good morning, Ian!” Evan Doughty poked his head out from the driver’s seat to wave at Ian MacDonald.
“Good morning, Mr. Chairman.” Ian slightly nodded, and then said to Twain, “Goodbye, Tony.”
“Goodbye, Ian.”
“Let’s go, Tony!” Evan beckoned to Twain and motioned for him to get in the car. “Bye, Ian!”
“Goodbye, Mr. Chairman.”
Twain got into the car. Evan restarted the engine and drove through the gate of the training base. He looked back and could not see Ian MacDonald. Maybe he was back in the small guardhouse.
Even though there was no training today, he still had to be there to hold his post.
“Hey, Evan.”
“Yes?”
“Ian told me just now that he’ll retire when the season is over.”
Doughty looked at Twain, and Twain pointed towards the front. “You’re driving.”
Evan Doughty turned his head back. “Is it because of his health?”
“Yes. His children don’t support his continuing as a guard at the training base.”
“Ian MacDonald has been working here for thirteen years. He’s the last witness of that era, isn’t he? When my father took over the team, he had already been working here for a long time.”
Twain leaned back on the seat and said, “All the old people are gone.”
“Isn’t that nice? The cycle of life. You see what the media says about us? ‘The Young Forest team’! I like that label, young and full of vitality!”
“But… I’m used to having someone to say hello to me every day.”
Evan Doughty was silent for a moment and said, “Of course, the club won’t let him leave just like that. I’ll consider giving him an honorary title of a ‘Lifelong Fan’ and reserving a lifetime seat for him in the stands.”
Twain did not say anything. That was what Evan could do as the chairman of the club. What about him? He should prepare a parting gift for the old man too.
But what should he give him?
