Chapter 155
Chapter 155
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 155
Chapter Title: I Want to Become a Rival (3)
From this season onward, Bolton's league and FA Cup matches had been picked up for broadcast in Korea as well.
Fans watching the game live were going absolutely wild.
- <LifeIsAFootballMile> : Whoa, Rahim Strong is the real deal...;;;
- <SergeantKang> : Is that Strong guy Rahim Sterling's little brother or something? Unlike Sterling, he's got killer finishing despite his height, and his physicality is insane.
- <BlueDragon> : What the hell is Bolton doing? Conceding two goals in the first 10 minutes of the half? Get Lee Chang-yong in there quick!
<JooYongPark> : Who is this old-timer?
- <TotoVeteran13Years> : Ugh, gotta head to the betting site right now...
- <SeriousAboutSoccer> : Fuck this! Bolton, get your shit together? That Delicate asshole just opened up the flank wide open while Strong was scoring!
Unlike the furious or depressed Wanderers fans, the self-proclaimed Latics were overflowing with joy.
- <BoGyeongKim> : Except for those last 4 times, Wigan's always dominated these matchups, you idiots Finally back to normal.
- <WonHeeJjo> : Yes! That's it! A goal to crush the national pride pricks!
- <ValenciaRules> : Wow, our Strong is heading to the EPL by season's end, Wigan promoted or not
* * *
[What in the world is happening here!]
[Bolton Wanderers have gifted two goals to Wigan Athletic in just the first 10 minutes of the half!]
[The University of Bolton Stadium falls silent!]
Just as the commentators said, shadows hung over every Wanderers fan's face.
In stark contrast, the away Latics were flashing ear-to-ear grins, celebrating their lead after just 10 minutes.
It was no different on the Wigan bench.
The coaches were all smiles as they chimed in.
"This is gonna end way easier than expected."
"Yeah. Look at Bolton's faces. They look completely shell-shocked."
Soccer was all about momentum, after all.
And Wigan had seized complete control by striking twice early.
But manager Rowell Gardner alone gazed out at the pitch with caution.
His eyes darted constantly.
‘What has changed?'
Bolton was running a 3-5-2.
'What changes will they make?'
They'd already neutralized Bolton's attack just by placing prodigy Pak and Shearer Kane up top.
'They were probably aiming for a big-and-small combo strike.'
Pak uses his speed to break down the flanks, while Shearer Kane finds better space for scoring chances.
Or Kane drags out the defenders, letting Pak infiltrate deep for a direct shot.
Owen Pressais, Frank Gerrard, and David Dignity held the center.
'Bodyguard roles.'
Rowell had suffered at their hands multiple times.
Previously, he'd ordered man-marking on Owen's long-range threat, but it just left them short on field players.
Dignity and Gerrard shielded him like a wall, blocking every interference.
Bolton then outnumbered Wigan's defense for counters.
'That's why I let it go today.'
Instead, after scoring, they formed a zonal defense to maximize protection against long shots.
Morten Pedersen and Delicate on the left and right flanks were positioned where the halfway and touchlines met.
'They're points that can switch to defense anytime.'
But they often used an asymmetric approach—one defending, the other attacking—to unsettle opponents.
Bolton's back three, in particular, was one of the league's strongest attacking options lately.
'Gary Todd...!'
Rowell Gardner's eyes sharpened as they locked on one player.
Gary Todd, anchoring the center of the back three.
He rarely pushed past halfway, but that alone made him plenty threatening.
'The power to bulldoze with physicality is insane.'
Add in his ball control and passing, and he was a monster.
But that was it.
Right now, Wigan held a two-goal lead and was playing a compact defensive plan.
With Rahim Strong and speedy Will Keen on the flanks, ready to infiltrate at any moment.
Just moments ago, Strong had dismantled the defense in a flash.
'So Bolton can't commit everything forward.'
Even Rowell in Ma's shoes would play it safe for now.
Wigan had the edge in this tactical setup.
Bolton needed a change.
Though only two years had passed, Rowell—having clashed with Ma multiple times—knew he'd surely adapt.
* * *
Just as Rowell thought, the Bolton bench was in a brief uproar.
"We need to make changes!"
Ryan Enby, who'd started idolizing Jeong-woo, spoke up first.
"Switch to a back four, push the midfielders forward, and keep the wingers at the touchline edges to stretch them."
Enby's idea was to rattle their packed defense with constant side switches.
"Then, when the gap opens, Pak, another forward, or even Owen strikes!"
Veteran analyst Neil Rose agreed changes were urgent, though with his own take.
Even Hee-won nodded along.
"Yeah, Jeong-woo. Those bastards look like they're going full park-the-bus now that they're up two. Switch to a back four or add more bodies up top for a killer blow?"
Mid-sentence, Hee-won narrowed his eyes, another idea hitting him as he raised his voice.
"Or just go route one! Throw Brother in for aerial duels."
Only then did Jeong-woo, who'd been silently scanning the pitch, nod.
"Yeah. Keep it simple."
"Oh, then tell Brother hyung to get ready for subs right—"
Hee-won, thrilled his idea was picked, couldn't finish.
Jeong-woo, arms crossed, slipped his hands into his pockets and turned his head.
"Simple without changing formation."
* * *
Wigan center-back Tom Pierce wore a satisfied smirk.
'These guys are totally frozen solid.'
Not just one goal down, but two—the longer it went, the more frantic Bolton would get.
And their manager had prepped them for this.
'If we score first..., time becomes our ally from then on. Protect the defense and maximize possession.'
He'd even specified passing.
Keep the ball as long as possible unless they press close.
Right now, Pierce held the ball under the arc, gazing into the distance like he was on a stroll.
Heh.
Just that action had his lips curling wide.
Shearer Kane from Bolton charged in like a moth to flame, face flushed with frustration.
"Oh?"
Thud-!
Pierce timed it perfectly, sliding a light pass to the left-back.
He even thought ahead.
Just as they'd struggled against Bolton's tiki-taka and park-the-bus before, time to pay it back in spades.
'See how you like it...!'
31st minute of the half.
Overall, Wigan controlled possession without giving Bolton easy chances.
Of course, no defense is perfect for 90 minutes.
Thud, thud, thwack-!
[Ooh, thwack, thwaaack, thwaaaack-!]
Prodigy Pak pounced on a loose ball from the left flank, snatching it clean.
He bolted straight for the corner flag without stopping.
Ooooooh-!
Wanderers fans, deflated by the two-goal gap, finally rose with hopeful cheers.
But Pak's face crumpled more with every step on the pitch.
He had no choice but to go inside.
'Why is it so packed...!'
Just like he thought, Wigan's defensive line was densely packed with bodies.
Even half-spaces would see the ball swiped under pressure.
Thwaang-!
In the end, Pak tried a cutback cross from the byline.
Thwack-!
But it barely traveled a meter before deflecting out over the touchline.
A Wigan full-back had dashed in with a sliding tackle to block it.
It stayed that way after.
With a thick midfield, Pak or Delicate's flank infiltrations always fell short at the end.
Wigan defenders swarmed the cross timing, narrowing angles or stealing outright.
41st minute of the half.
By now, the commentators voiced the question on everyone's mind.
[Bolton Wanderers conceded two early, but... no formation change yet!]
[Why? If I were manager, I'd switch the back three to a four first thing.]
Most agreed.
Go back four to add attacking numbers.
Even if not, the current setup wasn't hurting Wigan at all—time for a shift.
But Jeong-woo still stood with hands in pockets, eyes on the pitch.
"Given up already?"
Some Wigan coaches sneered from their bench.
"Doesn't look like he's even thinking of tweaking tactics."
"Yeah. Makes sense—it's his own playbook biting him."
The Wigan staff naturally harbored ill will toward Ma.
They figured he was rattled, hoisted by his own ten-back petard from before.
But not Rowell Gardner.
If anything, his unease grew with time.
'What the hell...?'
No visible change.
Which made it even harder to grasp.
And frustrating.
He knew Ma—knew the sharp blade he hid.
* * *
44th minute of the half.
Swoosh-!
Owen Pressais took the ball back to goal, then spun unexpectedly and fired a straight pass to the left flank.
"Damn it!"
Center-back Tom Pierce whipped his head around at that exact moment.
Just then, Shearer Kane timed his run into the box from the left half.
But Pierce smirked.
'Whatever. It's pointless.'
Wigan's defense was compact.
"Mark him!"
Pierce called out with some leisure, per plan.
As expected, their tight wall had another center-back, Curtis Tild, right on Kane's tail.
"No!"
Rowell Gardner, who'd been watching silently, finally bellowed.
He'd seen it.
Tild closing on Kane left space behind.
But...
'Too late!'
Heh.
At that instant, from the opposite bench, Jeong-woo's lips twisted upward slyly.
'Finally hooked the big one.'
As Rowell shouted, Tild's face crumpled.
Swoosh-!
"You madman...!"
Kane didn't trap it—instead, he nutmegged him clean through the legs.
The dummy caught Tild flat-footed.
In less than a second, the ball zipped between his legs from where he'd been glued to Kane's left.
Thwoom-!
An ominous thud pierced Tild's ears.
In that split second—the full-back facing goal and Tild's advance—prodigy Pak exploited the gap perfectly.
"What?"
Pierce, realizing too late as Tild shifted, blurted in panic.
Pak didn't care—he just ran and ran.
By the time Wigan players spun toward goal, Pak was already stepping into the box.
"Shit!"
Wigan keeper Jamie Jones, eyes wide after one blink, saw Pak five steps away and lunged with a curse.
Thwaang-!
Pak trapped the cleanly rolling ball with his left inside, created the angle, and unleashed a right inside shot.
Splash!