Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
That crazy night had already become a thing of the past, but the fervor set off by Tony Twain was far from over. As a result of the live broadcast, the footage of Tony Twain dressed as a king was seen by everyone in the country. Whether they liked or disliked him, they were shocked by his action.
Even an arrogant manager like Mourinho would not accept tens of thousands of people bowing down to him in public so naturally. Donning the king’s cloak and a crown on his head, all he lacked was a scepter… Looking at his expression, it was as if all these were things he should enjoy.
England was still a traditional country at the end of the day. Some people in the football circles still could not abide those who departed from established practices. However, this time Tony Twain’s antic was even more exaggerated.
He called himself the king?! Who does he think he is!
Some of the press started bombarding such an arrogant display and subsequently more people joined the ranks of the critics.
“Tony Twain might as well declare independence.”
“With only two UEFA Champions League titles and he wants to ascend the throne? He’s too immature.”
“If a clown like him can be considered a king, then what should Ferguson, Paisley, Shankly, Busby be titled as? God?”
“Nottingham Forest is collectively infected with ‘Tony Twain’s virus’. Granted that he’s crazy himself, but now the entire club and all the Nottingham Forest fans are crazy like him as well, it’s incomprehensible.”
“Look at his revolting face. Does he really think he’s the king? It’s ridiculous. He’s only a clown in our eyes!”
“Dear God, who’s going to save this addled-brain wretch?!”
“There must be something wrong with the world…”
※※※
“It’s really lively.” In the BBC’s office building, John Motson held a bunch of newspapers and magazines as a meet-and-greet gift for Tony Twain. He pointed to the headlines that censured Twain to the other man with a smile on his face that clearly showed “glee over his misfortune.”
Twain grimaced, “A bunch of poor ignorant bastards…”
“You’ve been quiet in your column, Tony. I don’t think it suits your style very well.” Motson tossed the newspapers aside and chatted with Twain.
BBC 5 was currently preparing to go to Switzerland and Austria to cover the UEFA European Championship this year and the floor was hectic. Motson happened to have a little free time, so he made a joke at Twain’s expense about the recent “King’s Gate” that everyone had hotly hyped.
“What can I say? It was just an exaggerated way of expressing my feelings at that time, but this bunch of idiots took it seriously.”
“You just have to explain clearly, and it’ll be fine…”
“No way.” Twain shook his head and said, “I’m not going to compromise with that bunch of idiotic media. They want to hear my sorry words, but I refuse. I want to make them anxious!”
Motson saw Twain’s lively expression and laughed with his head thrown back.
After his laughter subsided, he wiped away his tears and said, “You’re really a newsmaker. News follow you everywhere… No, you’re the ‘news!’”
“John, can I take this as a compliment to me?” Twain blinked.
“You’re really thick-skinned, Tony.”
“I have to face the disparagement from these media all day long. I can’t survive by being thin-skinned.” Twain was happy to hear John Motson’s comment. He was indeed thick skinned…
Motson nodded and agreed with Twain’s explanation. “But to be honest… I was a little surprised when I saw this king’s spectacle. I thought to myself, if I was pushed to the stage, dressed like that and had to face the barrage of comments, it’s really tough to deal with …”
“I didn’t think so much. Everyone was happy at the time. It’s too dampening to think about it.”
“Hey, your character… is so complicated.” Motson smiled as he shook his head.
Twain felt it was meaningless to talk to Motson about the topic that had been hyped up by the media, so he asked, “Is there anything here for me to do?”
“Here? No. We fly to Basel, Switzerland tomorrow to get ready to report on the opening ceremony in four days.” Motson informed Twain of the plan.
Twain nodded and said, “In that case, I’ll go back to the hotel first.”
“Okay.” It was only when Motson walked Twain to the elevator that he suddenly thought of a matter, “Oh, yes. There’s one thing I want to tell you. It’s rather interesting.”
Twain gave him his full attention.
“Carl Spicer, a reporter for the Daily Telegraph.”
Twain was familiar with this name. He appeared to be a veteran journalist whom he often saw his name in the newspapers. But what did this man have to do with himself?
“He decided to do a rigorous social investigation the form of a questionnaire plus street interviews. He will also interview a lot of famous and unknown media people, commentators, footballers, coaches and club chairmen. It’s a large-scaled plan. The subject of the investigation is—” Looking at Twain, Motson laughed, “<What are your thoughts on this man, Tony Twain?>…. Ha ha!”
At this point he could not contain his laughter and chortled.
Twain did not laugh. He just gave a shrug and said, “Spending taxpayers’ money just to find out if I’m popular or not?”
“Spicer thinks this is an interesting social phenomenon—-a successful football manager who has a bad reputation in the public media and does not receive the recognition that commensurate with his accomplishments at all.”
“He’s lamenting the unfairness on my behalf?”
“No, he just wonders why it is so.”
With a “ding” sound, the elevator door opened in front of the two men.
“Curiosity can kill the cat…” Twain muttered as he walked into the elevator, while Motson waved to him outside, “Don’t forget tomorrow’s flight. You can go directly to the airport.”
“I won’t forget, that is if I’m not killed by all this curiosity tonight….”
“Hahahaha—”
※※※
When he returned to the hotel he was staying in, he was held up by two media outlets at the entrance.
“You’ve been waiting here all afternoon because you heard I’m staying here?” Twain looked at the two men in front of him and asked.
He came to London with little fanfare. There was no need to go around publicizing where he stayed as he could be approached by the reporters, which was really… annoying.
A man and a woman from two different media outlets had waited here for an afternoon according to their self-introduction. They want to ask Tony Twain a few questions because they wanted to hear Twain’s response to what the media had said recently.
The devil knows how things have been developing between you two the entire afternoon… The two people looked intimate. They were not from the same media company but acted very close which caused Twain’s imagination to run wild.
“Yes, we have a lot of questions, Mr. Tony Twain…” The male reporter could not wait to ask, but Twain stopped him with a gesture.
“I admire you for being so dedicated to your job, but my time is also my time, so I can’t answer all your questions one by one, Mr. Reporter.” He stood in front of the hotel elevator and pressed the button, waiting for the elevator which was currently on the 18th floor to come down. “See that? I only have time before it gets to the first floor.” He said with a smile as he pointed to the display above the elevator.
The man and the woman met gazes and found it a little difficult. They had managed to get hold of Twain after much difficulty. How could they not ask as many questions as possible to get more sound bites?
“Pick the important questions.” Twain thought of a way for them. Some people in the lobby had already glanced over here and Twain did not want to stand here to viewed like a monkey.
This time the female reporter stepped forward and cleared her throat, “What do you think of Grant throwing the silver medal at the awards ceremony, Mr. Twain?”
“That’s his freedom which is none of my business. The medal was given to him, so he could do whatever he wanted. No one has the right to say anything to him.” This time, Twain stood on Grant’s side.
“As to…” Twain’s tone had been very unfriendly toward the reporters, so they had to weigh their words, “that ‘King’s Gate’ incident…”
This was the media’s abbreviated term for the incident whereby Twain dressed as a king in his appearance. Like his original “rape-gate” incident, Twain felt that these reporters had not grown these few years, and still quite sub-standard when it came to giving names. He knew what these reporters wanted to ask, so he replied first, “I have nothing to say. It’s my freedom to wear whatever I want to the celebration party. It’s nobody’s business. I don’t need to hold a press conference to explain it just because I wore something that few people would wear. Would you go around explaining it to other people just because you’re wearing a ‘Hello Kitty’ underpants today?” Twain stared at the male reporter and asked. That man reflexively glanced down…
“The Queen’s lead singer, Mercury, did the same thing after their London concert. And I don’t see it causing a ruckus? And yet you kicked up a big fuss to ask me what happened… How do I know what’s going on?” Speaking of this, Twain became angry.
It’s really not easy to be a public figure. Even getting dressed up would invite criticism … Everyone should just f**k off!
“Ah!” The female reporter caught a glimpse of the number above that had jumped to level four. She gave a yelp and threw out another question, “Carl Spicer plans to do a survey on your popularity and intends publish the study after its conclusion. He said that if it were to be published successfully, he would send you an autographed copy. What do you think?”
With a “ding” sound, the elevator door opened next to Twain, and the passengers inside were somewhat surprised to see two reporters holding tape recorders and small notebooks. But when they saw who the interviewee was, they all understood.
There was no business of concern to them here. Close proximity with this guy, Tony Twain meant trouble, so it was better to stay further away… One by one, they quickly walked away from the side.
With one foot into the elevator, Twain turned to the two reporters and said with a straight face, “I feel this is quite meaningless.”
With that, he dashed into the elevator and the door closed between him and the reporters.
In the empty elevator, Twain took a slight breath. But he still dare not completely relax. He knew that the elevator also had a surveillance camera. Now he was known nationwide, he could not rule out that someone would sell the private recording in the elevator to make money. Real celebrities did not have the slightest space of their own and were under the media’s watch at all times and everywhere. This kind of life was really tiring…
He weakly leaned against the wall and wanted a rest. But he caught himself only a second later and left the wall to stand straight in the elevator again. He did not want anyone to see his feeble side, not even for a second’s respite.
Looking up at the camera on the ceiling of the elevator and surrounded by icy steel panels, Twain felt like a cat in a sealed cage. The air felt thinner. Perhaps he would first die of suffocation one day before he could die of old age.
That’s too ridiculous… The king of Nottingham Forest is in fact a cat that was suffocated?! Twain grinned at the camera.
※※※
When Twain flew to Switzerland the next day with the BBC 5 crew, including Motson, his partner, Dunn, had already been there for almost a week.
This time for the UEFA European Championship, Nottingham Forest sent out all the scouts, half of whom were responsible for tracking the performances of the Forest team’s existing players in their national teams and ensuring their conditions in order to prepare for the new season. The other half were to observe the non-Forest players who had the potential to perform well. The young and older were all under consideration.
The people in charge of all this work were Dunn and Kerslake. Dunn led the group of scouts who observed the new players, while Kerslake led the unit that tracked the Forest players. The two men had a clear division of labor and would eventually put together all the information to hand it over to Tony Twain after. It was up to him to decide who they should buy and who to continue to investigate…
After the UEFA European Championship, the scouts still could not take a break. They would be going to China to continue their tour of the Olympics to find younger and more promising talented players. This time, their focus was mainly on countries outside Europe.
Once all the players’ profile came out, they would then deposited in the world’s player library specially produced by Sports Interactive for the Forest team, which could be easily transferred when needed. Twain’s ambition was so great that from now on, he would slowly gather young talent from all over the world. In this way five, ten, fifteen, twenty years later, Nottingham Forest would have the resources to establish itself in this cruel world: an excellent and loyal to the team unit under his personal command. The glory of Nottingham Forest would never be just a two-season meteor, nor a comet that only showed its brilliance once every few decades, but a star like the sun—its eternal presence, forever glowing and radiating warm, lasting five billion years.
For everyone at Nottingham Forest, being busy would be the only theme this summer. Everyone was occupied.
This would be the first time since he met Shania that Twain and Shania would not spent their holidays together. Shania was busy filming, studying and doing runway shows. Whereas Twain was busy as a pundit for BBC during the UEFA European Championship and taking the team on its Asian tour. It could already be next year when they had a chance to catch their breath and miss each other…
