Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
When the sun rose from the east on a new day, Bale opened his eyes and woke from his sleep. After he saw clearly where he was, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
This was the team’s dormitory, not the inside of some cheap brothel in Amsterdam’s red-light district.
He’d had the same dream the entire night that the boss knew he had walked around in Amsterdam’s red-light district. The boss hadn’t lost his temper, but seeing his disappointed expression was nothing short of a nightmare for Bale.
He had dreamt that he had been kicked out of the training base in Volendam. That he had to pack his bags and take a flight alone back to the United Kingdom. Then he was surrounded at the airport by endless media, hostile and gleefully raising a variety of embarrassing questions as they laughed at him.
He was surrounded by mocking laughter, unable to move or breathe… until he woke up.
Bale turned over and sat up, his back drenched with sweat. The sound of the toilet flushing came from the bathroom. Lennon was already up.
He rubbed his face with his hands and tried to clear his head a little more.
Lennon walked out of the bathroom and said, “Go wash your face, little monkey.”
“Aaron.” Bale turned his head and looked at his good friend, “We… Nothing’s going to happen, right?”
Lennon froze for a moment, then smiled and shrugged, “What can happen? Didn’t we get back on time yesterday? No one saw us there. Everything was perfect!” He made a peace sign and said, “Go wash up and then have breakfast. If you’re late, then there’ll be a problem.”
Hearing this, Bale got up from his bed and dashed to the bathroom.
※※※
Twain stretched his back on the bed before he got up. The weather in the Netherlands was much better than in England. It was a wonder to be able to listen to the birds and wake up smelling the scent of flowers.
Sleep was the most important activity in one’s life. Only adequate sleep could guarantee one had enough energy for a day’s work and study.
The manager had the privilege of not having to share a room with anyone, as Twain had stayed alone in a dorm room.
Just as he had finished washing up and came out of the bathroom, the doorbell rang.
“Come in.”
Twain was a little surprised to see the person who opened the door and came in. He had thought it would be Dunn or Kerslake, but he hadn’t expected it to be the reporter, Pierce Brosnan, who was also staying at the training base.
“Good morning, Mr. Reporter. Are you going to start an interview so early? I’m not dressed yet.” Twain spread out his hands. He was only wearing his boxers and was bare-chested.
Brosnan didn’t look well. He shook his head, “Tony, I think there’s something I have to tell you…” Then he handed the several newspapers in his hand to Twain.
“I received a call from my friend this morning telling me what happened last night. Although I’m not surprised by this, the terrible thing is that the rest of the media are…”
Twain looked down at the Dutch and English newspapers in his hand. The common feature was the four photographs placed on the front page of the sports edition. The images featured three familiar faces—Ashley Young, Aaron Lennon, and Gareth Bale.
The shot was not clear, somewhat blurry. The angle wasn’t too good, either. It was obvious that these had been secretly taken. And the background behind these three faces was… the lively streets under the neon lights.
“It’s just a stroll down the street together. What’s the fuss?” He wanted to return the newspapers in bafflement. “I allow them free time every night. Don’t the players go to town and unwind these days?”
Brosnan didn’t answer, but pointed to the image in the newspapers and said, “These photos were not taken in Volendam, but in Amsterdam.”
Twain was a little taken aback to hear this name. He looked down at the picture carefully, trying to discern any clues from it.
“Taken in Amsterdam’s red-light district,” Brosnan continued, “Several English reporters who went there to have fun came across these three on the street…”
Twain looked up at Brosnan, who was still explaining to him, and couldn’t seem to believe what he had just heard.
※※※
The Forest team’s three daily meals were the responsibility of the nutritionist and chef they had brought. The entire team, from the coaches to the players, all ate together without exception.
During breakfast, everyone got together and chatted while eating. Ashley Young, Bale, and Lennon sat together in an inconspicuous corner and discussed the previous night’s thrilling experience in low voices.
Bale seemed distracted and looked around.
“Hey, little monkey, what are you looking at?” Ashley Young reached out and waved in front of Bale’s eyes, but he couldn’t get his attention.
“The boss isn’t here,” Bale said as he looked around. “His assistants, Dunn and Kerslake, aren’t here either…” His voice dropped at the end, sounding a little frightened.
Upon hearing Bale say so, Lennon and Ashley Young hurriedly looked up and searched the crowd. Sure enough, they didn’t see the three coaches.
The manager and assistant coaches were normally there when everyone ate together. Why were they not there this morning?
The three people glanced at each other and saw a hint of panic in each other’s faces.
“Hey, is everything going to be okay?” Lennon looked at Ashley Young.
Ashley Young didn’t know how to answer him. He mumbled instead, as if to reassure Lennon, and convince himself, “Maybe they have something else going on…”
Just as the trio were feeling apprehensive, Twain finally appeared at the cafeteria entrance along with the two assistant coaches.
Twain first stood at the door and swept his gaze across the team before he and the other two men found an empty table to sit down and eat their meal.
He ran his eyes across at the whole room without saying anything, no expression on his face. No one could tell what was on his mind.
Ashley Young and the others put their heads down and quickly finished their meals, hoping to leave this place that was making them uncomfortable.
Just as they had wolfed down their food and were about get up and leave, Twain spoke.
“Young, Lennon, Bale.”
The three people froze with fear.
“Be in my room in thirty minutes. I have something I’d like to discuss with you,” Twain said casually with his head lowered. He moved his ham to and fro on his plate with his fork at the same time, then he cut it with the knife, making a crisp sound as the metal struck the china plate.
When Bale heard the sound, he jerked his neck, as if he could see his dream gradually becoming a reality…
The other players thought it was odd that the boss had suddenly called these three people to his room. They looked on in bewilderment at their three teammates standing in the middle of the cafeteria, wondering what had happened.
“You can go now.” Twain waved his hands with the knife still in his hand. It glinted in the morning sun.
As soon as the three had left, the sounds of discussion quickly broke out in the cafeteria. Everyone was speculating what mistake the three men had made, because the boss’s voice sounded like he wasn’t in a good mood.
Twain ignored the voices of speculation. He wordlessly tackled the ham and fried eggs on the plate. It was only when he chewed that his movements became a little bit bigger…
※※※
Thirty minutes later, the three teammates appeared in Twain’s room with sullen faces.
At the time, Twain was watching television—his eyes were fixed on the switched-on television screen, except Dutch was coming out of the speaker, which he couldn’t understand at all, and an extremely dull paid programming was playing.
When he heard the three men push open the door, Twain stood by the bed for a moment as he waited for them before he turned his head to look at them.
“What’s with the look on your faces? Didn’t you have a terrific time last night?” He played with the remote control in his hands.
When the three of them heard his remark, like a bolt out of the blue, they realized that last night’s incident had been exposed. Before they had come here, they had still intended to lie and hide the past. Now, it looked like the statements they had prepared were completely useless.
“You must be wondering how I knew that, right?” Twain tossed the papers over, “They came knocking at the door when you didn’t pay after you had your fun last night.”
He was, of course, mocking them. The three men looked down and saw pictures of themselves having fun in the red-light district in the newspapers. They immediately understood everything… They must have been secretly caught on camera by the reporters.
They had been caught red-handed. Any refutation was useless.
The three of them were completely silent. Bale was quiet due to fear, and Ashley Young and Lennon were quiet because they didn’t know what to say.
“Why aren’t you talking, guys? Oh, should I congratulate you first on becoming men last night? You’ve transitioned from your adolescence to maturity, from maturity to becoming even more mature… till you’re almost f*cking ripe!” He burst into a string of obscenities without warning and the three bowed their heads and trembled. The calm before the storm had finally passed, and now the storm was crashing down.
“No, I didn’t…” Bale falteringly opened his mouth to defend himself.
“What did you not do? Gareth Bale, you’re amazing, aren’t you? How does a woman’s body feel? And you, Aaron Lennon!” Twain looked at Bale’s roommate, “I hope you’re not as fast with a woman as you are on the field!”
Bale didn’t dare to open his mouth again after being admonished. He could only silently endure it with his head lowered.
The look on Lennon’s face was also uncomfortable.
After he reprimanded the two younger ones, Twain turned his eyes towards Ashley Young, but his tone softened, “Young, I know… Those two young lads, they wouldn’t have thought to go to that place in the first place, right?”
Ashley Young knew what the boss meant when he said this. He nodded his heart, “It was my idea, chief. It has nothing to do with them. I dragged them along.”
Twain composed his face and looked closely at Ashley Young.
“You’re a pretty stand up guy…” He withdrew his gaze and turned to the other two lads. “Don’t think about using this to score any points from me. You three… I’m not against you looking for girls to relieve your boredom, but not now! Do you know why I’m so angry? I’m not angry because those sonab*tch reporters caught you. I’m not f*cking afraid of them. If they want to blow this up or speculate, let them!”
He brandished his hands as if he really didn’t care.
“Do you remember what I said to you guys when we came here? What did I say? I told you not to go there, right? Do you recall? Or did you forget? Did you completely disregard my words as a manager?”
None of the questions were impossible to answer.
“W-We didn’t forget, chief, nor… nor did we disregard…” Ashley Young stammered, “It’s just that…”
“It’s just that your libidos overcame your rationality, right?”
“Right, right…” Ashley Young nodded in a hurry.
“In other words, you guys really did it?”
Ashley Young suddenly realized he had been duped. He hurriedly shook his head. “No! We just went there to take a look. We took a spin and came back! We definitely didn’t do that… No!” It was a joke. If he had really said he did it, he didn’t know how scary the boss’s expression would be. “We were just curious. We’d never seen a place that openly displays the goods… So we wanted to take a look… Look, that was it, chief.”
Twain listened quietly to Ashley Young’s explanation, and then looked at Bale and Lennon. “Did you guys do it?”
The two men shook their heads, “No…”
Twain stared at Bale for half a beat before he turned and walked back to the couch. He sat right down and cocked a leg.
“You guys really didn’t do it?”
This time the three of them replied in unison, “We really didn’t do it!”
After a moment’s silence, Twain sighed, “I’m disappointed in you guys… You’re professional players. You rely on this to make money and earn a living. Your body is the only thing you can rely on and trust, but you don’t know how to cherish it. I don’t want to give you examples of how many talented players in this world have been destroyed by their reckless personal lifestyles since the arrival of modern soccer. You should be more aware of this than I am, because the body is yours! If you lose your condition one day and are crushed by others, it’s no loss for me. I’ll just find another bunch of good players. And you? Move to a lower level league and reminisce your former… f*cking glory years!? I’ll say this—what do you think you’re playing for? Because I asked you to? For the club and the team? For the fans? You’re f*cking playing for yourself, for your future! This is your work, and you have to take it seriously. This is not some damn street game!”
Twain took a breath and looked at the three, who bowed their heads in silence.
“This is no longer a question about whether you’ve done it or not. This is an issue about your attitude towards professional soccer. Professional soccer is fair. It won’t shortchange any player who gives his all to play seriously, nor will it give preferential treatment to any b*stard who seizes every opportunity to cut corners and resort to tricks! I want you to remember this and think about it seriously… What kind of path do you want to take?
“In your professional career, the first few years are limitless and grand, filled with money, glory, and beautiful women. There are no worries about anything, and anything is possible when you’re admired by millions. And then you quickly decline to the point where you have to go to the lower leagues to seek opportunities. Is that the way you want to go?”
The three people shook their heads at the same time.
“You’re still young and have a long way to go. I want you to shape up.” Twain waved to indicate that they could go. “Okay, you can go back to regular training. After training, reflect on yourselves in front of the entire team and admit your mistakes. I won’t fine you, but you can’t take part in the tournament.”
The three of them nodded and left the room. This punishment was considered merciful by the three of them. At least Twain hadn’t sent them away in a rage to the bench to reflect on themselves.
Twain rubbed his temples when he saw that the door was closed.
Dunn’s biggest concern had still become reality. However, Dunn was worried about the overall impact of the incident on the club and team. Twain was worried about the impact of this kind of thing on the future of these three. He didn’t want his players to be the next Norman Whiteside or George Best. After the invasion of full commercialization in soccer, countless talented players were destroyed by their decaying private lives.
Gareth Bale, Aaron Lennon, and Ashley Young were excellent young players whom he had personally picked. He had hoped that they would be healthy enough to play a high level of soccer for the team for more than ten years, rather than being sold by him prematurely. He had watched these young players grew up step by step. In a way, it was like he had personally raised them with his own hands. Who would want to sell their own children?
Didn’t Ferguson feel heartache when he sold Whiteside and Paul McGrath?
How did Wenger feel when he decided to give up Jermaine Pennant?
“Tony.” Not knowing when, Dunn had opened the door and come in.
“Huh?” Twain snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at his assistant manager standing in front of him.
“There are a lot of reporters around the training ground… More than usual.”
Twain grunted, “The sharks smelled the blood and are finally here?”
“What do you…”
“Tell them that after training, the club will hold a special last-minute press conference, and they can ask any questions at that time. For now, no interviews will be accepted!”
