Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Mad Dog (3)
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It was a bright afternoon.
“Urp—!”
On Bolton's first-team training pitch, Cole Palmer bolted toward the touchline the moment they broke for rest, something surging up from deep inside him.
“Gonna have to do that about ten more times.”
Captain David Dignity murmured, lost in a wistful memory.
Delicate and a few others gazed fondly at Palmer, who was now on his knees beyond the touchline, retching.
“You okay?”
Dignity asked Frank Gerard beside him.
Gerard already had his mouth clamped shut tight.
His cheeks were puffed out, eyes squeezed hard.
As if holding his breath...
Gulp!
“Haa—! Yeah, I'm fine!”
Gerard finally flashed a bright smile.
Dignity looked at him admiringly, as if he'd just swallowed fertilizer and kept it down.
“You're just gonna puke it up again anyway. Why bother eating it?”
His expression and words didn't quite match.
Moments later, Jeong-woo stepped into the circle the players had formed after conferring with the coaching staff in the technical area.
He was drenched in sweat too.
Standing in the center, he held up two fingers.
“This is a hand signal. Two fingers means a tactical change instruction.”
Previously, he'd used kids in the card section for secret tactical switches.
The opponents hadn't seen it coming and floundered.
But with Charlton looming, it was different.
Jeong-woo said, leaning casually,
“One catch, though—it doesn't trigger the change right away. When you get the signal, check the stadium clock immediately. About seven minutes later. That's when we'll shift the shape. So if the instruction comes at the 35th minute, it's the 42nd. Even if it's 35:47, it's exactly 42:00.”
Jeong-woo fixed his gaze on Dignity and added,
“You give the shift signal, Dave. While repositioning.”
Dignity, newly nicknamed Dave, nodded slightly.
At the same time, his face took on a resigned expression, knowing the endless puking drills ahead.
It was obvious they'd drill it down to the second.
Jeong-woo continued.
“The shape we just practiced is 3-4-1-2, as you know. Main idea is quick regains leading to counterattacks.”
But Jeong-woo said,
It might look defense-based, but the core was attack.
He instructed them to set the defensive line high from the start.
And added more.
“If we're using this tactic... it'll probably be when we're trailing by one or two goals.”
The players listened calmly, without a stir.
Shearer Kane was one of them.
And every day, he encountered astonishment.
The manager standing with the sun at his back seemed to peer into the future.
His predictions were always spot on.
“Shearer, you're probably gonna struggle hard in the first half. Looks like Jimmy's keyed on you.”
“...”
“Might get an earful too.”
This time, he hoped the prediction missed.
* * *
[Shearer Kaaaane—! Equalizer in the 33rd minute of the first half!]
[What a valuable goal! A real gem!]
[From the replay, you can see...! Ooooh—!]
The commentators cut off mid-broadcast to gasp in awe.
In the replay, Shearer Kane had dropped to the right flank.
The left-back shadowing him stuck like glue.
But the winger and others failed to cover.
In that instant, Bolton players flooded Charlton's defensive third like the tide.
Owen slotted a through ball.
That was it.
The commentators shouted, eyes wide.
[Wooow—! One-touch finish!]
[Even with Chris Gunter pressing from behind, Shearer holds firMad Dog buries it with a left-footed instep drive!]
[Unbelievable! From that angle! Under pressure, no less?]
As they said, even from halfway, the near post was a good distance away.
Plus, Shearer was level with the goal line.
Meanwhile, Shearer Kane hustled back to his half.
Still down a goal despite his strike, he wanted play to resume fast.
No prolonged celebration.
Then he glanced at the bench.
‘Manager...!’
Jeong-woo was smiling right at him.
Kane couldn't help but be stunned.
He'd said he'd go quiet...
And it had played out exactly.
Still thrilled yet dazed, training scenes flashed in his mind alongside Jeong-woo's words.
‘Shearer. Listen up. First, drop to the right flank. Act like a winger. But... when I give the instruction—or not—that'll likely be your best shot.’
Jeong-woo had said,
From analyzing Jimmy Jones's tactics, he specialized in neutralizing the opponent's deadliest weapon.
And against Charlton, Bolton's was Shearer Kane—himself.
So even if he wanted to shoot, it wouldn't come easy.
Spot on again.
‘They didn't give me an inch.’
Constant trips, deliberate fouls to break play.
Wherever he went, two men pressed in sync.
Trash talk to rattle him too.
But the next words made Kane's eyes light up.
‘Tactical change instruction, then seven minutes later... let it rip.’
Jeong-woo added with conviction,
‘You'll see the angle then. Why? Me and your teammates will make it. Plus, you can one-touch it even if it's not wide open, right?’
The mission Ma had tasked him with was simple.
Just shoot.
‘Like now. Think it won't go in forever because it hasn't? Don't be ridiculous. You know how many touches Ronaldo takes for one goal?’
Absurdly, those few words and the new instruction cleared Kane's vision like a lit fuse.
Or as Jeong-woo said, even a sliver would do.
He scanned the Charlton players from his spot.
Despite their one-goal lead, every face was creased.
Especially the left-back who'd hounded him, Chris Gunter—bewilderment plain.
All from one shot that went in.
“Hoo—!”
Shearer Kane exhaled sharply.
His wavering eyes steadied.
Confidence surged like a flood.
“Young hotheads always have wild mood swings. Shows up on the pitch too, right? You know how it is—once young players get hyped, even vets struggle to contain 'em.”
From the technical area, Jeong-woo muttered with a grin.
“Tottenham, Atalanta, Monaco during their short peaks? All had super young squads. Once they taste victory, they just go berserk. Fuckin' ride or die,”
As he said, Shearer Kane's form flipped 180 after one goal-scoring shot.
“Shearer's the type who, once my attack clicks!, dives in like a beast. Kinda like how a predator instinctively knows to rip the herbivore's nape for the kill shot?”
And Jeong-woo saw it.
Kane had finally spotted Charlton's nape.
With major help from teammates, of course.
“Planting Bolton players like chess pieces all over Charlton's danger zones to disrupt their cover...”
Hee-won let out a short gasp of admiration.
They'd brainstormed it in training, but in the match, the effect was massive.
Now Hee-won could see it.
Charlton's increased sideways and back passes from deep.
Jeong-woo chimed in smugly.
“Call it forward defense. Position players in the opponent's weak spots like zonal marking. When they try diagonal or forward passes, attackers charge first for interceptions.”
Not pure man-to-man.
Stray from position in man-marking, and you gift space.
Somewhere between zonal and man.
Thud!
[Oh! Charlton's through ball picked off!]
[Gerard up to the arc! Cutting skills on point!]
Thud!
[Oh, Gerard! With the defender flinching for a shot, he lays it back—!]
Baaaang—!
[Owen Precise's sneaky strike—!]
Riiiing—!
The cannonball shot smashed the crossbar's left upper corner and soared high.
“Gasp!”
Charlton's keeper looked horrified.
Jimmy Jones in the technical area was equally stunned.
Staff behind whispered in shock.
“D-Dangerous!”
“The shape changed out of nowhere!”
“No instruction from Bolton's side...?”
“More shots now, though?”
“Time for a switch, I think. They're pressing high, and we're struggling!”
But for Jimmy Jones, it was just a momentary heart-skip.
His eyes sharpened instead.
‘Just a brief scramble.’
He was certain.
In under two or three minutes, Charlton would adapt to Bolton's new shape.
He saw the Bolton manager's plan: forward press to block passes first, then overwhelm.
And it had worked.
They'd given Shearer Kane shooting space.
Now Owen Precise too.
‘Placing players precisely in blind spots to force defensive errors.’
Yet still a solid zonal setup.
No Bolton player rushed in recklessly.
Not unless they entered the zone or a long pass flew.
‘Not bad.’
Bolton's manager was precise in tactical design.
But Jones soon smirked coldly.
‘Gave up too much too easily, though.’
Bolton's vast space behind from pushing the line high.
* * *
Bolton's new power analyst, Ryan Enby, flinched throughout the match.
‘Amazing...!’
His cheeks burned.
The tactical battle in the first 40 minutes was incredible.
Now Bolton pressed high.
Great for a Bolton employee, but worrisome too.
‘Need a setback to trigger the turning point...’
His gaze hit the technical area.
Jeong-woo stood casual, hands in pockets.
Yawning, picking his ear now and then.
Even trailing by one, he chuckled at times.
‘Mad Dog would think it's pathetic.’
The noble, genius tactician Mad Dog would sigh deeply.
Image mattered for a manager.
Yet he lounged like the situation was irrelevant.
Still...
‘Ma's tactics are working, though. Does he see what I can't? Nah, not Mad Dog...’
He shook his head.
Comparing Ma to his Mad Dog-like faith felt like sacrilege.
But Ma had done well.
Even dominated Jimmy Jones's Charlton briefly.
His eyes shifted to Jimmy Jones.
‘What tactic now?’
Jones scanned the pitch with razor focus.
Posture straight, unflinching.
Total contrast to the nonchalant Ma.
Curiosity bloomed.
As a fellow Mad Dog disciple.
* * *
37th minute, first half.
Jimmy Jones tweaked the tactic.
Wide side mids for more overlaps.
Then crosses and underlaps for direct goals.
Mad Dog-inspired.
39th minute, first half.
Two minutes later, it clicked.
Thwack—!
Clang—!
[Goal! Didier Ramsey! Hat-trick in the 39th minute!]
[Blasts into the empty Bolton half, headers home the right-flank cross!]
‘Got 'em—!’
As predicted.
One interception, quick counter—Bolton unprepared.
Jones was now convinced.
Two-goal lead swung it; if Bolton stuck, score would widen.
But
41st minute, first half.
Clang—!
[Gooooaaal—!]
[Oooowen Precise! Three goals in four games!]
43rd minute, first half.
Thud—!
Clang—!
[What a whack—!]
[One-touch equalizer for the team!]
[What's happening! Six goals in the first half up to the 43rd!]
[Golazo party underway!]
“...”
Jimmy Jones's cheek twitched.