Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: This is Bolton Wanderers (2)
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League Round 17.
Peterborough vs Bolton Wanderers.
Peterborough's key center-back Samuel Gower was always a player brimming with confidence.
It was no different facing Bolton, who were on the rise today.
"Come at me, you idiots!"
Thwack-!
The moment Bolton's Sensuous Ruff tried to penetrate the right half-space, Samuel Gower shoved him aside with a shoulder charge.
Wobble-!
"Fuck!"
With just one collision, Sensuous Ruff flew back like he'd been hit by a gale.
Gower smoothly took the ball that had slipped from his foot and launched it long toward the front.
"Urgh!"
A smug laugh burst from his lips.
Signed as an FA this season, he was enjoying this League One stage to the fullest.
'No time to rest on my laurels here!'
It might've bordered on arrogance, but Gower had the stats to back it up.
While Peterborough climbed to 7th place, Gower had racked up countless interceptions and clearances.
He relentlessly pressured opponents purely with his physicality, holding the line in front of goal.
Like his style of play, his nickname was Bull.
With a family history of massive muscle mass, he stood at 198cm with a frame that evoked an American football player.
Striker and wingers he'd faced in the first 17 rounds of the league often shrank back from the start.
'But these guys are a bit different.'
Even after being bounced away, Bolton players quickly regained their stance and pressed back hard.
'Is it because they're 3rd in the table?'
Bolton had surged up to 3rd place behind Hull City and Plymouth Argyle.
But Gower didn't care much about the standings.
'Doesn't matter.'
Until last season, Gower had played in the England Championship.
The main reason he'd dropped to League One this season was injury.
Last season, a torn ACL had wiped out his entire year.
His value plummeted, and a new signing took his spot.
Then, right as his contract was nearing its end, Peterborough came calling aggressively.
Gower had no reason to hesitate.
'I just need to prove my worth again!'
He'd signed a short-term 1+1 year deal with Peterborough.
Flash some brilliance, show he was still good, then climb back to the Championship.
'So, shine here and get back to the Championship quick...!'
Swoosh-!
"What?"
Suddenly, Gower blinked.
Worried about Sensuous Ruff attempting another penetration, he'd been marking him when a sharp gust whistled past from the opposite side.
'Something just flew by...!'
Gower didn't even finish the thought.
Swish-!
Another player darted between hiMad Dog Sensuous Ruff.
And in less than a second,
Splash-!
[Gooooooaaaal! Shearer Kaaaaane-!]
[Pak's monstrous penetration followed by a side pass! Kane finishes it cleanly with an inside-of-the-right-foot shot!]
* * * *
Chong-a Pak ran and ran some more.
Unlike the last Wigan game, today he was playing left winger.
Pak diligently carried out his duties while constantly recalling Jeong-woo's personal instructions.
'Pak. That guy Gower is handling final defense from the center..., bottom line, just take him out.'
At first, Chong-a had been intimidated.
His fierce look aside, the arm muscles bulging from his short-sleeve uniform looked brutally bulky, like actual bull meat.
'You thought you'd die if you brushed against him, right?'
'No?! Uh, no, not at all?'
'Yeah. But don't worry. If you really go for it, Gower can't catch you. He's slower than our Dominic. Matchup's in your favor.'
Recalling his recent chat with Jeong-woo, Pak unleashed another off-the-ball sprint.
"You bastard!"
Enraged by the goal conceded, Gower charged at him with fire in his eyes.
Reaching out with his rough, calloused hands.
Swish-!
But Chong-a, with momentum built, simply twisted his upper body sideways to evade.
Just as Jeong-woo said.
Gower struggled noticeably when changing direction.
In that gap, Chong-a pulled even further ahead.
"Aaagh! You little rat!"
While Gower bellowed in fury, Sensuous Ruff smoothly infiltrated the half-space on the right.
Thud-!
Owen, practically fixed in central midfield, didn't miss the moment and lofted a lob pass over Gower's head.
Peterborough's defensive line was already disrupted by the sequential counter.
Especially Gower, their anchor, who'd lost all reason.
Like that, Chong-a uncontestedly controlled the ball dropping in the center of the penalty area with an instep tap.
Tap-!
In that instant, he recalled Adebayor's advice.
'Your feet are shit, but they can't look like shit. So no fancy shooting—just instep it. Least it won't look like total shit.'
Suddenly, Chong-a furrowed his brow.
'Is this what he calls shit? What the hell?'
Meanwhile, the ball struck with the front of his foot slipped right through the keeper's legs, rippling the net.
Splash-!
* * * *
Bolton claimed another victory in their away game against Peterborough.
Five days later, in League Round 18, Bolton displayed their fearsome firepower once more.
The broadcast team showered praise at the stark difference from last season.
[Bolton Wanderers...! They used to catch flak from fans even in victory for playing that Middle Eastern bed football until early this season...!]
Commentator Harvey Carter muttered in disbelief as he watched the pitch.
[At some point, Bolton shifted froMad Dogefense-heavy tactic to spending more time in the opponent's half!]
As he said, in today's match too, Bolton's defensive line was pushed up almost to the halfway line.
Bolton's players had the opponents completely pinned in their own half with sequential counters and long-range shots.
[Last season, Bolton bolstered their squad somewhat by signing Cole Palmer, Frank Gerrard, Morten Pedersen, and Adebayor...! Ah, but their actual performance is beyond imagination!]
[I thought even generously they'd be mid-table at best. Compared to last season, this is a massive leap!]
Harvey Carter nodded along.
His eyes fixed on how Pak's terrifying runs were peeling defenders off like shells.
[Compared to early season, some existing players are getting reappraised too? Combined with Manager Ma's new tactics..., their attack is overwhelming now—beyond that even!]
With the string of wins, not just Bolton locals but many in the soccer world were starting to acknowledge Jeong-woo.
Carter delivered a firm verdict.
[The current Bolton, in League One terms..., has top-tier powerhouse strength—no exaggeration. They even boldly forfeited the League Cup and Northwest Cup using mostly reserves, right? This season..., who knows how it'll end!]
Right then,
Whoom-!
Splash-!
Owen Pressais blasted in the opener with a long-range shot, capitalizing on Chong-a Pak and Sensuous Ruff pulling aggro from both flanks.
* * * *
Creak-!
The old door groaned.
As soon as the meeting with the team leader ended, Jeong-woo headed straight to his office.
He had to stop dead in his tracks.
Emmanuel Adebayor had pitched another one-man tent next to his own and was boiling something on a camping stove.
He flashed a grin, saluted, and said,
"Oh, Boss. You're here?"
"You're here?"
Jeong-woo unwittingly echoed him in bewilderment.
'Did that sound like "welcome home, buddy" or what?'
Park Hee-won, back from a short player-scouting trip, sat in the camping chair opposite.
"Oh, Jeong-woo, you're here?"
Hee-won greeted without even glancing up from the bubbling stew.
'What the hell with these guys.'
Hee-won was his usual self, but Adebayor had started casually entering the owner's office lately too.
'Is this a campsite? And what's with the extra tent.'
'You guys said your country's all about Eastern courtesy? By that logic, I'm more like the big bro here.'
"Pfft!"
Hee-won burst out laughing beside him.
Jeong-woo strode over, then glared at Hee-won with dagger eyes.
His look said it all.
'You teach him that?'
Hee-won averted his gaze slyly.
"Anyway, Boss. When do I get to play league games?"
That half-casual honorific again.
Of course, in front of the players, Adebayor stuck to formal speech.
With his long playing career, he knew better than anyone to uphold the manager's authority there.
Jeong-woo tended to loosen up in small groups of three like this.
He liked Adebayor's playing style and personality—no malice in his words.
He even gave off real big-bro vibes.
"Just a bit longer. It's almost all set.'
"Got it."
Though it might frustrate him, Adebayor just nodded slightly.
Lately, he'd been hanging out a lot with Hee-won...
'What'd this guy tell him to make him back me unconditionally?'
At some point, Adebayor stopped harboring complaints.
He focused solely on the Northwest Cup and League Cup, elevating his game.
Above all, Adebayor's skill was noticeably improving.
'At first, I subbed him in for about 10 minutes..., now in cup games, he can go 30.'
That time limit was precisely Adebayor's peak cooldown.
In the last League Cup, he'd notched a hat-trick in 20 minutes against a League Two side.
And as Jeong-woo wanted, media and public reaction was building.
[Jeong-woo Ma signs a star then only subs him in cups!]
[Adebayor! Beef with Ma? Way too little playtime...!]
[Adebayor with minimal minutes! Still bags a hat-trick! Protesting Ma with performance!]
"Pfft."
Now settled in his own camping chair between them, Jeong-woo scrolled related videos on his phone with a satisfied smile.
Among Adebayor fans, some unleashed all sorts of curses at him.
- : If you signed him, use him! Even cups, why only subs?! Huh?!
- : You fucking @#! Ah! Adebayor's Togo's hero! Don't neglect him!
Jeong-woo loved these reactions.
The more they cursed him, the more it meant Adebayor's form would soar.
"By the way..., FA Cup 3rd round draw's out. Decent opponent?'
Meanwhile, Hee-won scooped some budae jjigae into a paper cup and asked.
Adebayor, hooked on the stew, downed it like water from his cup and chimed in.
"I've scored tons against that team. Prime me would've eaten them alive."
As he said, the FA Cup 3rd round matchup was set.
In two weeks, Bolton Wanderers would face it at the Stadium of Light, capacity about 49,000.
The club bought by a Russian billionaire for 100 million pounds (160 billion KRW).
Sunderland AFC.