Chapter Forty-Five: Tactical Formation

Facing the morning sun and the fresh breeze, Long Bisheng ran laps around the vast field. His stamina had grown impressively; in twenty minutes, he could cover over two thousand meters, making him one of the best at the entire school.

He was the only one running, and this solitude brought a faint sense of loneliness. Yet, he was accustomed to it, fully aware that unless he rapidly improved his strength and closed the gap with his teammates, this feeling would linger. Though his dorm mates treated him kindly, if his abilities lagged too far behind, an insurmountable chasm would separate him from them. Instinctively, people feel closer and more eager to connect with those on their own level—just as teenagers rarely play with small children, and it has nothing to do with discrimination.

After two laps, sweat began to bead on Long Bisheng’s skin; the weather was still warm. Passing the quiet teaching building once more, he glanced at it and sighed inwardly, then pressed on.

Not far ahead, Long Bisheng suddenly heard footsteps behind him. He turned, keeping his pace steady, and his eyes widened in surprise—behind him, Dai Guangming, Zhang Yi, Zhou Wei, Li Jie, and Wu Bufan were running together, laughing and chatting, while nearby was Hu Gandan, calm as ever.

“You…you’re all here?” Long Bisheng stammered.

“What, you think you’re the only one allowed to run? We want to work hard too, right?” Zhou Wei caught up beside him, grinning as he ran.

Long Bisheng chuckled, looking at the group of roommates he’d known for two months, a warm feeling rising in his chest.

“One-two-one, one-two-one!” Hu Gandan called out the marching chant, and the others joined in, their voices echoing across the field. In the distance, Ding Yu watched the energetic group of youths, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

When they had run enough, they slowed their pace and began walking toward the dining hall for breakfast. For them, training had only just begun; they couldn’t afford to exhaust all their energy on running laps. In fact, the morning laps were merely a warm-up, and after breakfast, only some light training would follow.

By the time they finished breakfast, other students were gradually waking up. Seeing them up so early, many wore looks of sudden understanding. From that day forward, Dorm 505 earned a new nickname—the Livestock Shed.

Zhou Wei was rather indignant about this. “Is there any other livestock shed this clean?” he protested. Just in the football school alone, which dorm could compare to 505’s cleanliness? Other dorms reeked so badly that even Li Jie, who used to love visiting other rooms, now preferred staying in his own.

But that was a matter for later. When Long Bisheng and his six companions arrived at the training ground, they saw someone already there, juggling a ball alone—it was their coach, Ding Yu.

Watching Ding Yu clumsily juggle the ball, the group nearly burst out laughing—their coach’s footwork was rather lacking. Not even Dai Guangming or the others, perhaps even Wu Bufan the goalkeeper, would fumble so much.

“What’s so funny? What’s there to laugh about?” Ding Yu feigned annoyance. “I never had professional training… Besides, most of the world’s best coaches weren’t players themselves. With my level, I’m more than qualified to coach you lot!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” everyone nodded vigorously, and Zhou Wei added, “Coach, you’re the beacon in our hearts, guiding us forward; you’re the sun in the sky, shining upon our growth…”

“Are you a plant?” Ding Yu laughed and scolded, then asked, “Isn’t today Sunday? Why are you all here?”

“With such a good example here, we can’t help but work hard,” Dai Guangming gestured toward Long Bisheng, who laughed sheepishly, “I’m just a clumsy bird, so I have to fly early.”

“Those who know to fly early aren’t clumsy birds,” Ding Yu replied quietly, then addressed the other six, “You go ahead and practice. I have a few words for Long Bisheng.”

The others nodded, understanding Ding Yu wanted to give Long Bisheng some pointers. It wasn’t that they couldn’t listen, but their level was already higher than Long Bisheng’s, so it wouldn’t be useful. Moreover, given Long Bisheng’s personality, he might feel awkward if Ding Yu instructed him in front of everyone. Ding Yu’s consideration was thorough.

The six moved to the other side of the training field for warm-up exercises. Zhou Wei, stretching, remarked with a hint of envy, “Have you noticed? The coach really pays special attention to Ah Long, gives him more guidance than anyone else. Even on a Sunday, he’s here to coach him—I refuse to believe he’d come out just to play ball for no reason!”

Dai Guangming and Hu Gandan exchanged smiles. In truth, they had noticed long ago. Dai Guangming was perceptive, and Hu Gandan, despite his rugged appearance, had a keen sense of the bigger picture. Dai Guangming replied, “What does it matter? Haven’t you realized? In our dorm, Long Bisheng’s training time is the shortest, and his skills lag behind ours. Practicing with us helps him improve quickly, but doesn’t do much for us. If he can catch up to our level, we’ll all improve even more. That’s probably why the coach holds him in such regard.”

“Then why not pair us with another talented striker?” Zhang Yi asked. “There are other forwards in our grade—Zhong Tao, Li Yajun, all pretty good. Wouldn’t that save trouble?”

Hu Gandan answered, “Right now, Long Bisheng can’t compare to them, but the future is uncertain… Look at his height—does he look like a ten-year-old child? Even Wu Bufan can’t match him. Imagine having a forward like him up front; if you and Zhang Yi can send in crosses and he heads them all, who could stop us? That’s his potential!”

Hearing this, Li Jie suddenly let out a miserable cry, then whispered, “Guangming, you once said Coach Ding Yu came for someone among us. Could it be Ah Long?”

All six turned to look at Long Bisheng and Ding Yu at the other end of the training ground. Even Dai Guangming and Hu Gandan joined in, and everyone muttered the same three words, “No way…”

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“What do you think is most important for a striker?” Ding Yu pulled Long Bisheng to sit on the grass, sitting opposite him, and posed the question.

“Scoring goals, I suppose,” Long Bisheng replied uncertainly.

“That’s not wrong,” Ding Yu nodded. “For a striker, the number of goals scored is the most direct measure of his value… But it’s also not entirely right. Modern football has evolved; positions on the field are increasingly blurred, and sometimes a striker’s value isn’t reflected in goals.”

These words confused Long Bisheng—goals not important for a striker? What nonsense! In professional clubs, strikers are often the highest paid, and those who fetch astronomical prices on the transfer market are strikers. A mid-table club with a striker who can score ten or more goals per season might rise to the middle ranks; a striker who doesn’t score won’t hold much status in the club… Yet Ding Yu was saying a striker’s value might not lie in goals!

Seeing Long Bisheng’s astonished expression, Ding Yu realized the student had misunderstood. He’d said “sometimes,” but Long Bisheng had ignored the qualifier.

“Have you gained any insights from playing striker lately?” Ding Yu changed the subject, not bothering to explain. Some feelings must be experienced firsthand; words often pale beside action.

“My speed is too slow. I can’t keep up with many passes,” Long Bisheng admitted. He’d never wanted to be faster so badly; in matches, Dai Guangming always managed to deliver beautiful balls behind defenders, but even when he started early, his lack of speed let defenders easily block him.

“Speed is usually innate. With your build, it’ll be hard to increase,” Ding Yu dashed his hopes. “But being a striker isn’t just about speed; you need to learn to use your body… With your natural attributes, becoming a top scorer will be difficult, but as a target center forward, you can fully utilize your physical advantages and find your place in any team.”

“How do I use them?” Long Bisheng’s eyes lit up at this, eager for guidance.

Ding Yu laughed. He admired this straightforward, hardworking child, especially after hearing from Wei Zhe about his family situation and his determination to become a professional footballer. Though Ding Yu was only a part-time coach at the football school, and not here just for Long Bisheng, he still paid close attention to the boy.

“With your characteristics, you’re perfectly suited to be a tactical center forward,” Ding Yu said after his laughter subsided.

“Tactical center forward?” Long Bisheng’s face brightened at the title—it certainly sounded impressive.