Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Mad Dog (2)
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Shearer Kane thought he was fine.
Ma Jeong-woo's encouragement a few days ago had definitely helped.
So he figured he'd really be okay.
But apparently not.
Thwack-!
“Urk-!”
A defensive midfielder had crept up behind hiMad Dog laid on the pressure.
Normally, he would've held his ground, but the ball he'd just received bounced a full meter away from his instep.
‘Why...?’
Even as he staggered, the question lingered in his mind.
Left-back Chris Gunther didn't miss the opening and lunged in from upfield.
Swoosh-!
In that split second, Gunther's eyes widened.
The instant he stabbed at it, Shearer twisted the ball's path away with his left instep.
Yet even as he tumbled, Shearer instinctively flicked out his right foot.
But that was as far as it went.
Thud-!
Gunther hooked the ball a handspan ahead of him, rolling it along the ground to the center-back waiting at the penalty arc.
Splat!
Shearer Kane lost his balance completely and hit the deck.
The ref didn't blow the whistle, though.
Anyone could see it was a fair shoulder-to-shoulder battle.
Even as he pushed himself up with both hands planted on the turf, Shearer couldn't hide his bewildered expression.
‘No, why...!’
His head was swimming with questions.
This was pressure he should've shrugged off no sweat.
Yet a light shove to the back had thrown his balance completely off-kilter.
Maybe it stemmed from that turnover and the early goal it'd led to.
Either way, this was a first for him.
From the technical area, Ma Jeong-woo watched it unfold and muttered under his breath.
“He's tense, that guy. Shoulders all rigid. No wonder his base couldn't hold.”
When you're tense, your center of gravity rises.
That's why coaches always say to brace your core.
Shearer Kane hauled himself back to his feet.
Soon enough, he dropped all the way back to the halfway line, ready to receive on the right flank.
Ma Jeong-woo's eyebrow twitched.
From beside him, Park Hee-won grumbled.
“Told him not to drop so deep.”
Just as he'd said—Jeong-woo had instructed Shearer to roam higher up.
But Shearer had defied those orders multiple times today, including right now.
The longer his scoring drought dragged on, the worse it got.
“Kid's anxious as hell, huh?”
Early in the match, he'd stuck to the right positional runs.
But right after that turnover sparked a goal, he'd started crumbling under charges way easier than usual.
And as if to hammer it home, the opponents ramped up their pressure.
“Impatient, confused, tense—the works. Can't even set his stance properly, even when he's in position.”
That explained why he was folding so easily to the challenges.
“That guy's got some chops, huh?”
Park Hee-won glanced toward the opposite technical area and muttered.
Ma Jeong-woo nodded faintly.
“Yeah, born to shut down one kid, at least.”
The moment they spotted Shearer wobbling, two players latched onto him.
Smart play, too.
“Cover plays based on position, huh.”
When Shearer hovered near the halfway line, the winger and midfielder positioned themselves close enough to pounce anytime.
Push him higher, and the fullback, center-back, or winger would drop back, squeezing him from front and back, left and right.
Flip that around...
“They're babysitting Shearer like crazy.”
Jimmy Jones, the manager, knew exactly Shearer's killer edge.
Jeong-woo chuckled softly to himself.
“Even trash-talking? Lightweight.”
As a veteran in that department, he could spot the jaw-flapping from a mile away.
“Different league, kid? Huh? You still got a ways to go.”
“Second in scoring from League Two? But four games, zero goals here—including today! Rookie, you gonna keep bricking shots like that?”
Left-back Chris Gunther and center-back Aidan Innis muttered their jabs.
With those two on his back, Shearer's face twisted as he desperately tried to turn whenever the ball came his way.
‘These bastards...!’
He ground his teeth.
Ever since that turnover opened the scoring, every player sticking to him had been running their mouths just like this.
Thwump-!
Right on cue, Owen Pressais arrowed a diagonal pass across the right half-space.
Back to the fullback Gunther, Shearer leaned into it heavier, dropping deeper.
Gunther startled again in that instant.
‘This punk really nineteen?’
The sheer force behind that lean—it nearly shoved him off his feet in a flash.
But Gunther's lip curled into a sly grin soon enough.
Thwack-!
He absorbed Shearer's push against his back with both arms.
The moment Shearer lurched forward, a teammate charged from upfield and intercepted clean...!
“Grr...!”
Or so he thought—Shearer pitched forward like he was tumbling but lashed out with the outside of his right boot anyway.
Thud-!
‘Got it!’
Shearer's face lit up for a heartbeat.
He'd one-timed Owen's pass straight to Frank Gerrard, who'd surged into the center circle by now.
* * *
The pressure on Shearer Kane showed no signs of letting up.
His face stayed crumpled like a crushed can, refusing to smooth out.
Jimmy Jones savored a satisfied smile at the sight.
It only confirmed his hunch.
‘Bolton's manager made a huge blunder.’
Keeping Shearer Kane far from the box was problem one.
‘That kid's real weapon is his shooting.’
Stuck on the right flank, though, Shearer hadn't sniffed a proper chance.
It even made life easier for Charlton to press him.
‘If he'd been central... that'd be dangerous.’
They'd have to watch every angle.
Flanks were different.
Mark straight-on and one side—boom, sealed.
Plus, Shearer wasn't the type to solo-dribble through defenses.
Straight-line runner, through and through.
Bottom line: isolated.
That turned Bolton's right flank into a snapped bridge over a river—useless.
‘Thanks to that... Owen and Prodigy Park are blunted.’
Cover plays—linked defending—had Shearer locked down.
With just two players.
The spare center-back, fullback, and mids marked Pulse Nine Owen Pressais and left winger Prodigy Park.
‘Park on zonal, Owen man-to-man.’
One shadow on Owen dulled his edge plenty.
Just one midrange shot in twenty-five first-half minutes.
‘Prodigy Park's too straightforward.’
Jimmy saw no dribble flair.
No underlapping from the line—just pure speed dribbling.
‘Type like Park... if the defender sits deep and holds position... can't counter easy.’
And Jimmy's tactic? A mashup of Mad Dog.'s playbook.
He marveled at his own tweaks as he watched it hum.
‘Flawless...!’
Not rigid unison—each unit with distinct roles, yet meshing like gears.
Locked down defense, still threatening Bolton with long and short counters.
Jimmy reminded himself not to get cocky, though.
His eyes flicked to the opposite technical area.
Manager vs. manager—he wondered what Ma Jeong-woo made of it.
Sensing a towering wall, maybe.
Ma Jeong-woo furrowed his brow ever so slightly.
Park Hee-won clocked the expression.
‘Sharp as ever, this guy.’
Just like that—Jeong-woo's gaze swept the pitch like a predator hunting prey.
Right now, he was dissecting Charlton's setup piece by piece.
‘Two-man press on Shearer Kane, linked defending... zonal on Prodigy Park. Owen man-marked...’
Plenty more dotted the buildup zones.
Central cutters to nibble away at Bolton's attacks.
Then back-passes—not forward, to the rear defenders.
‘Followed by long counter killshots.’
On cue, three forwards sprinted in waves.
First, left winger draws eyes, then right.
Last, central striker Didier Ramsey explodes from the center circle.
‘Central guy's the fastest... and strong.’
Quietly savoring Jimmy's tactics more, Jeong-woo slyly curled his lip.
He'd suspected it analyzing Jimmy's prior setup... now confirmed.
‘Damn, that's my tactic.’
Like Blackpool's boss, Jimmy had borrowed Mad Dog.'s system.
Just more refined here.
With extras layered on.
And Jimmy had soaked up every scrap of online advice tailored to it, drilling it into his squad.
[Instruct ST to infiltrate from behind anytime, add pressing triggers on the defensive line. No need for position switches to flanks—keep it central. Attack 3, defense 2 on involvement scale. ST needs stamina, obviously? Stamina, speed, physicals all top-tier? Perfection.]
Tweaked some, sure—but personal directives? Didier Ramsey followed to the letter.
The rest too.
Jeong-woo's gaze shifted to Shearer Kane.
Right then, Shearer looked his way.
Still rattled, the kid.
Even down a goal, Jeong-woo flashed him a smile.
‘You're good, Shearer.’
Discreetly, he raised his right hand to chest height and spread two fingers.
* * *
31st minute of the first half.
Tweet-!
The ball soared from Charlton's half.
Owen Pressais's left through-ball picked off by the opposing fullback.
Charlton's right-back launched a long one immediately.
The high ball pierced the defensive line in a blink, dropping to Didier Ramsey.
176cm.
Smallish for a frontman, but his physicality defied expectations.
Sure enough—
Thwack-!
Bolton's center-back Dominic Shield spun late for a body check, but only staggered.
Ramsey used the momentum to surge ahead.
“Shit!”
Bolton's keeper Screech bolted out in panic as Ramsey breached the area.
Thwump-!
Spotting the keeper's outstretched leg, Ramsey chipped it low through the open gap.
Splash!
Bolton's net rippled again.
* * *
Most pundits tipped a narrow Charlton win.
Generous for Bolton, even.
No victories over Charlton in four straight seasons prior.
But the Man U upset and three straight league wins had boosted Bolton's odds.
Reality hit hard, though.
Fans glued to live feeds couldn't hide their shock.
- : What the hell? We down 2-0 right now?
- : Charlton this good...?
- : Looks like... we're just sucking...?
Some vented.
- : Sub Shearer for Sensuous Rough! Go sequential counter!
: Totally agree! Shearer ain't built for infil, position's all wrong anyway!
Broadcasters marveled at Charlton's cohesion while pitying Bolton.
[Charlton Athletic! They're all over Bolton!]
[Especially 2000-born Didier Ramsey! Magical! League One's next big thing, evoking Carlos Tevez vibes! Two goals already!]
[Meanwhile, Bolton Wanderers! That dynamism from Man U and the last three? Vanished!]
They piled on.
Front three—Owen Pressais, Prodigy Park, Shearer Kane—totally shut down.
Like their number was fully read.
[Wanderers look deflated!]
Spot on.
University Stadium's Wanderers fans stared at the pitch, faces etched with frustration and nerves—no roar in sight.
Then cameras whipped back to the action.
[Uh?]
Broadcasters blinked.
Charlton's keeper stood with hands on hips, dumbfounded, frozen awkwardly.
His defenders gawked too, legs rooted for a beat.
Rooooar-!
The Wanderers faithful, silent a second ago, erupted.
Broadcasters squinted.
Far right touchline end—a player flashing one finger to the crowd, sprinting to halfway before tumbling flat.
Overcome with joy.
He popped up quick, flushed face roaring short and sweet.
“Yesss!”
Then the broadcasters spotted the ball nestled in Charlton's net and lost it.
[Shearer Kane! His first goal in four games! Debut strike!]