Chapter Seventeen: The Old Scoundrel

“Do you feel like something’s different today compared to usual?”
During a break in training, assistant coach César Varo asked the fitness coach Giovanni Faletti beside him.

Faletti looked surprised and glanced toward the players. “Is it working that well? Wang just joined the team…”

Varo quickly waved his hand. “Not that. I mean, don’t you feel the atmosphere during training today is a bit off?”

“Now that you mention it… it does seem that way,” Faletti reconsidered and nodded. “But I can’t quite put my finger on what exactly feels different.”

“It’s just a feeling—I can’t explain it either. But the vibe today is definitely not like before…”

Faletti asked, “Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know if it’s good or bad. We’ll just have to wait and see,” Varo said, shaking his head before heading back to the pitch and blowing his whistle forcefully.

Training resumed.

※※※

The last session this afternoon was an eleven-a-side scrimmage, mainly to test the players’ progress.

With Wang Lie’s sudden arrival, it was also an opportunity to assess his current match fitness.

Though he performed reasonably well in training, there’s a vast difference between training and actual matches.

Many issues only surface during competitive play.

Wang Lie hadn’t played much in the Soful League for half a season—he was mostly a substitute, totaling only 342 minutes on the pitch without completing a single full match.

Clearly, this couldn’t guarantee his match sharpness.

Thus, the coaching staff at Tyne saw this intrasquad game as a chance to get a rough idea of Wang’s condition.

Typically, intrasquad scrimmages differ mainly in match duration from official games; otherwise, they closely resemble competitive matches.

Balls that count in official games should be contested just as fiercely in training. Players who don’t fight for the ball in training won’t suddenly do so in real matches.

These training matches are often crucial for the head coach when deciding who starts in weekend league games.

Besides players’ skills, their attitude during these internal matches is vital.

For this scrimmage, head coach McNeill didn’t shuffle all first-team players randomly. Instead, he formed one team mainly from the starting lineup of recent matches with minor adjustments, and the other team primarily consisted of substitutes.

They could simply be called the “first team” and “subs.”

As a newcomer, Wang Lie naturally joined the substitutes.

His striking partner was none other than Sunny Dean…

Dean, due to attitude issues in training, had mostly appeared as a substitute this season. After McNeill took over as head coach, Dean briefly started two matches but then returned to the bench and hadn’t started since.

Seeing Dean donning a blue bib, Wang Lie asked, “You want to start, Sunny?”

Dean rolled his eyes at him. “No, thanks.”

Then he turned and ran to his position.

Wang grinned behind him. This must be what some call “rejecting the rat race” back home…

But in front of me, the ultimate workhorse, there’s no way you’re allowed to slack off!

※※※

When the substitutes were on the attack, Wang noticed a gap behind the first team’s defensive line.

He didn’t immediately run into that space but looked back to observe his teammates.

Joshua Parker, the substitute midfielder, had possession.

From Parker’s position, the gap wasn’t visible—there were players blocking his view.

Who else could see that space as clearly as Wang?

He turned his head to the right, where Sunny Dean was pulling wide on the flank—Dean’s position allowed him to see the gap behind the first team’s defense.

Wang pointed at Dean and shouted, “Pass to Dean!”

At the same time, he steadily closed in on the first team’s backline, targeting the first team’s right center-back, Hugo Gonduz.

Because Gonduz played right center-back, when the ball shifted to the substitutes’ right side, which corresponds to the first team’s left, Gonduz naturally faced that direction, leaving a blind spot behind him.

Wang aimed precisely for this blind spot.

Approaching the defensive line this way made it harder for him to be noticed. When Dean passed into the gap, Wang could suddenly burst forward, catching the first team off guard with an offside trap-breaking run.

Even as a newcomer, Wang Lie’s status as a two-time Ballon d’Or winner gave him enough authority.

So, he instructed Parker to pass to Dean, and Parker did so without hesitation.

At the moment Parker passed, Wang suddenly accelerated—not toward the blind spot behind Gonduz but attempting to loop around in front of him!

Gonduz’s attention was drawn to the ball, but his peripheral vision caught Wang’s movement. Seeing Wang’s intent to come around, Gonduz accelerated to mark him closely and reached out to disrupt him.

Unexpectedly, Wang abruptly changed direction and darted behind Gonduz!

Gonduz’s outstretched hand grasped nothing; he realized he was deceived.

By then, it was too late to turn fully, and he could only watch as Wang surged into the gap behind the defensive line.

As Wang passed Gonduz, he glanced right and saw Dean engaged one-on-one with left-back Charlie Cohen…

Wait—one-on-one?!

Only then did Wang notice the ball was still at Dean’s feet; Dean was trying to dribble past Cohen instead of passing immediately…

Then, realizing he couldn’t get past Cohen, Dean passed back to Parker, who had come closer.

Wang was furious at Dean’s series of choices and shouted, “Why didn’t you pass right away?!”

He gestured to his feet, signaling where the ball should have gone.

Dean retorted, “You were offside!”

Wang repeated firmly, “Pass immediately! Right away!”

Dean ignored him, and Wang couldn’t continue arguing mid-game; he only waved his arm in frustration.

※※※

Coach McNeill, watching from the sidelines, shook his head helplessly.

Dean’s mindset was clearly problematic, but McNeill had no better solution. He had spoken privately with Dean shortly after assuming the role, trying to understand his thoughts and express trust and support.

Dean’s performance briefly improved afterward.

McNeill even gave him two starting opportunities.

The first start was decent—although Dean neither scored nor assisted, he fulfilled his role in the team’s attack.

But with no goals or assists, the stats looked unimpressive, and Dean faced some criticism after the match.

In his second start, Dean missed two clear scoring chances, costing the team a win at Leicester Fortress, and was heavily criticized.

Tyne, still in the relegation zone then, desperately needed those three points.

Afterward, Dean began to slack off—he showed up late to the next training session, reeking of alcohol. Not just his teammates in the locker room but even the coaches on the training ground could smell it.

The media soon exposed that Dean had been heavily drunk at a nightclub the previous night.

Photos showed his flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, one hand clutching a bottle, the other around a scantily clad blonde woman, while another woman lay across his lap…

As punishment, McNeill excluded Dean from the squad for his third match in charge.

But Dean seemed indifferent, showing no signs of improvement and maintaining his lackadaisical attitude in training.

Until now…

Actually, Wang’s run on that last play was excellent, flawless. If Dean had passed the ball diagonally immediately, it would have been a perfect breakaway goal.

Given Wang’s shooting ability, such a one-on-one was no challenge.

Still, despite the failed attack, McNeill saw positives.

Wang’s explosive power had clearly waned, but his instinct inside the opponent’s 30-meter zone remained sharp, and his positioning was impeccable.

If Wang were to play, McNeill would need to create such chances rather than having him drop deep to fetch the ball, wasting energy, or matching opponents in pure speed.

McNeill took out his phone and recorded his observations and thoughts to compile a detailed report after training.

※※※

“Dean, push forward! Dean!”
“Dean! Get up!”
“Pass the ball, Dean!”
“Control the ball, Dean!”
“Run! Dean, run!”
“Don’t dribble past him! Dean! Pass! Pass!”
“That last shot was a direct chance, Dean!”
“Don’t zone out! Dean!”
“Track back, Dean! Help out!”

These shouts didn’t come from head coach McNeill or assistant coach César Varo—they all came from Wang Lie.

Since that failed attack, Wang suddenly turned into an on-field coach, constantly barking orders at Sunny Dean.

Of course, if Dean did well, Wang wouldn’t hesitate to praise him: “Nice one, Dean!”
“Good ball, Dean! Good ball!”

Eventually, Dean lost patience and shouted back, “Can you shut up?!”

Wang pointed to his mouth. “This mouth belongs to me; I’ll shout if I want. Who said you can’t shout during training?”

Dean was dumbfounded—he realized he couldn’t outwit this old rogue.

He certainly couldn’t start a fight with Wang.

Even with Vittini, Dean only taunted verbally; he never threw a punch…

He wasn’t good at fighting.

Honestly, when Dean told Wang to shut up, the other players tensed, fearing a brawl—mainly worrying Wang wouldn’t hold back—and were ready to intervene.

Fortunately, Dean wasn’t impulsive enough, and Wang only talked, so everyone relaxed.

Seeing Wang constantly name Dean on the field, Varo turned and smiled at McNeill. “No matter how he plays in matches, at least he’s useful in the locker room. It’s the first time I’ve seen Dean get so thoroughly schooled.”

McNeill said, “Now you know why Wang isn’t popular. Because what he does and says is right, but it’s hard to take.”

Varo nodded repeatedly. “I get it. Everything needs sunshine to grow, but if the sun is too strong, people complain… By the way, given Wang’s current form, I don’t think he’s ready to play yet. Forget about team chemistry, even his own condition isn’t back.”

“He definitely won’t make the squad this weekend. We’ll see next week.”

As they spoke, Dean took the ball on the wing and cut inside.

Facing pressure from Matej Katic, Dean should have passed to Wang, who had slipped behind Katic, but he chose to continue carrying the ball sideways, falling into a tight trap between Katic and first team midfielder Van Ginkel.

Though Dean skillfully maneuvered within the double coverage and didn’t lose possession, the chance was gone.

Eventually, Katic knocked Dean down from behind, and the coach officiating as the referee awarded a free kick to the substitutes near the opponent’s goal.

Wang ran up, flicked the ball up onto his foot, then caught it with his hands, extending a hand to help Dean up.

But Dean ignored it, getting up on his own without acknowledging Wang’s gesture.

Wang didn’t mind and said, “You carried it too much just now. If you’d passed to me, then cut inside, I could have passed it back to you—we could have played a wall pass. But…”

Dean snorted, “If I passed, you might have shot yourself!”

“That’s fine. But more likely, Gonduz would step up to mark me. Don’t believe me? Ask him… Hey, Gonduz!”

Wang called out to Hugo Gonduz.

Gonduz looked confused but glanced over as Wang pointed to his previous position and asked, “If I received the ball there, would you mark me?”

“Of course!” Gonduz answered immediately. “I wouldn’t let you face the goal directly in the center!”

Wang looked back at Dean. “See? Then you can cut into the space behind Gonduz, and I’ll pass it diagonally to you… one-on-one!”

Wang clapped his hands.

Then he added, “Though you didn’t lose the ball under double pressure and earned us a free kick, which is a great scoring opportunity from this position.”

He stood holding the ball at the free-kick spot, looking poised to take it without hesitation.

Dean muttered behind him, “Hmph, acting all high and mighty…”

Wang heard but ignored him.

Once the wall was set, Wang placed the ball on the ground and stepped back.

The whistle blew. He ran up and struck!

The ball soared over the jumping wall, arcing gracefully into the net!

Goalkeeper Elliott Gotts leapt with outstretched arms but couldn’t reach it!

“Oh, beautiful!”

“Wow! Great shot!”

Cheers and applause erupted on and off the pitch.

It was a superbly executed direct free kick goal.

Even some first-team players cheered, like Wang’s young admirer Vittini.

Vittini hadn’t joined the wall but stayed forward, ready to counterattack.

From his perspective, the ball’s trajectory was clearer: it rose high over the wall, then dipped sharply—not a straight up-and-down “elevator” shot, but with a subtle curve.

If this were a league match, it might have been the goal of the round.

But here, it was just a goal in a training scrimmage.

Vittini felt both happy for Wang and regretful—it could have silenced those idiots who mocked Wang if seen in a real match.

“Good news: Wang’s free-kick ability is intact, hasn’t faded with his physical decline!” Varo said joyfully from the sideline.

Wang had scored sixty-nine free kicks in his career—the most among active players—earning the well-deserved title of “Free Kick Master.”

Wang didn’t celebrate amid the cheers but turned to Dean and asked, “What did you say just now, Dean?”

Dean was speechless—he hadn’t expected to be outdone by this old rogue.

He turned and walked away.

Wang shouted after him, “This goal’s partly yours, Dean! Thanks for creating the free kick chance!”

Dean broke into a run, hastening to escape.

Strangely, when Wang first arrived in the locker room, Dean even dared to provoke him. Now, deep down, he seemed a bit afraid…

Can I avoid trouble without running away?

※※※

The scrimmage ended with the first team winning 4-2 over the substitutes.

Unless there’s a surprise, Saturday’s league lineup for Tyne’s away match against Sedham won’t change much.

Although Wang scored a beautiful free kick, his overall performance still fell short of McNeill’s expectations—he needed more work.

After training, players gradually returned to the locker room.

As usual, Wang stayed behind for extra training.

Vittini kept his word and stayed to train with him.

Training together allowed them to accomplish more than alone.

After finishing their extra work, they helped each other stretch and relax before packing up and heading back.

“Wang, you don’t need to bother with Dean. Everyone knows he’s given up on himself. You’re wasting your time on him, and he was probably cursing you in the locker room!” Vittini kindly reminded Wang.

Wang was calm, nothing like the notorious troublemaker he was rumored to be:

“It’s fine. Let him curse. I’m not losing a hair. There are plenty who dislike me already; one more won’t matter.”

Vittini admired Wang’s mindset. “You’re really something, Wang. I can’t do that—I get angry too easily…”

Wang laughed. “So you knew that about yourself?”

Since joining the Premier League, Vittini had been embroiled in many controversies—mocked for his looks, flashy skills, and frequent on-pitch disputes.

At first, people pitied him for racial discrimination, but later realized: Why is it always you who has problems? Is there a flaw in your personality?

Vittini’s flaw was caring too much about others’ opinions, making him easily provoked.

Now, opponents targeted him with minor fouls and verbal taunts to throw him off his game.

Sometimes he even got booked for arguing with referees—not just once or twice.

Vittini felt embarrassed being teased by Wang. “I know, but I just can’t control it on the pitch… Maybe I’m too young. I need more experience to be like you…”

Wang interrupted his self-pity and praise. “Like me? You think I’m indifferent to praise or criticism? Didn’t the media just recently criticize me for ‘being too impulsive’?”

Vittini blinked.

“Sure, staying calm is good, but anger isn’t all bad, Vittini. Athletes need temper and competitiveness. If someone spits on you, you don’t just turn the other cheek. Why even play? Just concede from the start. Plus, in intense matches, adrenaline surges—are you sure you can hold back?”

Vittini shook his head repeatedly. “I can’t; that’s why I…”

“So, bottling up emotions causes problems. Your issue is not using that anger properly. When they provoke you, use it to fuel your skills, assists, and goals to slap their faces. Why argue with them?”

“If they want to provoke, use their taunts as motivation, build your anger, then release it at the crucial moment. BOOM!”

Wang clenched and unclenched his fists to mimic an explosion.

“Turn anger into a power source, not a burden. Don’t argue with opponents or refs—it’s pointless. After you score or assist, after you win, as the victor, you can respond however you want. If they don’t like it, tell them: ‘Don’t like it? Suck it up!’”

Vittini stared blankly at Wang’s animated speech. “Ah?”