Lazy Genius Striker [EN]: Chapter 97

Perhaps the shock was too profound.

Man City couldn’t shake off their sluggish play even after conceding the second goal.

Rishard seemed to struggle, drifting from right to left, but he couldn’t find a breakthrough.

Of course, that’s not to say that Man City’s performance was completely awful.

The scoreline was terrible, but in terms of possession and control, Man City was still dictating the game.

But what good is that?

This isn’t a friendly; it’s the final.

Even if it were a friendly, this score would be difficult to swallow.

In the second half, Man City needs to somehow close this gap.

To do that, they need to score, obviously.

But who will step up and score?

Should they continue to rely on Rishard?

An easy answer wasn’t forthcoming.

*

During halftime, the atmosphere in the locker rooms of both teams was, unsurprisingly, contrasting.

“Everyone, listen up and keep quiet! You’ve all been playing terribly today! It’s the worst performance of the season!”

Ernesto was livid, shouting at the players.

In truth, it wasn’t unusual for him to raise his voice during halftime.

He was such a perfectionist that even if they were winning the first half 3-0, he would still berate the players if something didn’t meet his exacting standards.

“Listen carefully! The second half needs to be completely different!”

However, today wasn’t one of those times; this was a genuine dressing-down because everything was truly a mess.

The players knew it, so they had no choice but to silently lower their heads and endure Ernesto’s scolding.

On the other hand, the atmosphere in West Ham’s locker room was naturally buoyant.

“Good. Everyone looks less nervous now. It’s just a game, right?”

“I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out at the beginning, but it’s actually fun now.”

“It’s my first final, and it’s at Wembley [England’s national football stadium], so I was a bit overwhelmed, but I’m okay now.”

Of course, they hadn’t played a flawless game during the first half.

But in this situation, there was no need to dissect tactics or offer harsh criticism.

What West Ham needed now was the unwavering belief that they could win.

After all, they were players with limited experience in winning, let alone playing in a final.

It was crucial to foster confidence that they were capable of achieving victory.

Schmidt understood this, so he spent halftime trying to instill as much confidence as possible in the players.

“Vardy.”

“Yes.”

“What the hell was that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Those incredible goals?”

“I just did what I always do.”

Vardy’s response to Schmidt’s question made the players burst into laughter.

“Seriously, how can you not be nervous? What’s your secret?”

“Come to think of it, this isn’t Vardy’s first time at Wembley, is it?”

“Ah, that’s right. He’s played here with the national team.”

“More than anything, he’s really fired up right now. He has to spend another year with us because of Man City.”

“Did everyone see his relentless pressing too?”

“Man City is paying the price for underestimating us.”

“Anyway, Vardy helped me relax a lot. The moment Vardy’s goal went in, I realized that the final wasn’t any different from any other game.”

“That’s right. I thought, ‘Today is just one of the games we’ve been playing.'”

“Today is just one of those games we’ve won.”

The players nodded and exchanged encouraging words.

That’s right.

Vardy’s mere presence was giving West Ham a tremendous boost.

He’s a player whose class rivals that of Man City’s stars, a player that no one can even come close to.

He’s wearing the same uniform and playing alongside us.

The reassurance that this fact alone provided was instilling an indescribable confidence in them.

The atmosphere in West Ham’s locker room couldn’t have been better.

However,

“But we need to retain possession a bit more. We need to play a bit more like we know how to play football.”

“Capello is right. The game isn’t over yet. We need to make sure we address what needs fixing.”

“Good. Let’s try not to lose focus until the final whistle.”

“Let’s give it everything we’ve got until the final whistle blows.”

They didn’t forget to mentally prepare for the second half.

They weren’t about to hand over the trophy to Man City. They’d come too far this season to end it empty-handed.

This season had been an incredible journey, thanks to Vardy.

Now it was their turn to do their utmost to repay him, even if only in a small way.

“And we have to repay this old man too.”

“Yeah. We got to the final thanks to that old man [referring to their manager].”

Of course, the players hadn’t forgotten Kane either.

If they won today, it would be Kane’s first career title.

He could finally shake off the burden of his long years without a trophy.

Especially since Kane was instrumental in the team’s victory in the previous tournament, his contribution was undeniable.

Kane nodded with a faint smile at his teammates’ words.

“Alright, let’s go!”

“In 45 minutes, we’ll be lifting that trophy!”

The game resumed for the second half.

*

In the second half, Man City found themselves in a difficult position.

They wanted to launch bold attacks on the goal, but they lacked a striker who could dominate in the air.

They needed to create opportunities somehow, but West Ham’s central defense was proving to be incredibly solid.

In the end, with only 45 minutes remaining and needing to overcome a two-goal deficit, Man City had no choice but to proceed cautiously, step by step.

Taking risks could result in a 0-3 scoreline.

A 0-2 score and a 0-3 score are worlds apart.

With a two-goal difference, the momentum could shift with just one goal.

But a three-goal difference is a mountain to climb.

“Ha, this is so frustrating.”

“Please, stop trying to make everything so perfect!”

“But that’s the only way we know how to play.”

Complaints erupted from the Man City supporters in the stands.

They understood the logic.

Direct attacks into the box, long balls forward, had a very low success rate.

But,

Even with that understanding, it was frustrating to watch them slowly build up play and advance.

In moments like these, it seemed like Rishard was the only player they could truly rely on.

Rishard wasn’t performing up to par either.

As a result, it seemed like Rishard wouldn’t be able to escape the criticism today.

“Do something! You have to make something happen in moments like these!”

“Earn your salary! Honestly, half of it is wasted!”

“How are we supposed to win if even you’re being shut down!”

It’s the inevitable burden of being an ace player.

An ace is only recognized when he displays the qualities of an ace.

An ace is bound to face criticism if he performs just like everyone else.

Furthermore, the opposing ace, Vardy, had already scored two goals like a true ace, making the comparison even more unavoidable.

“Come to think of it, he’s surprisingly ineffective in big games.”

“I can’t deny that feeling. He hasn’t contributed any goals or assists since the quarterfinals of the Champions League.”

“Even before that, he was often injured before crucial matches.”

Man City fans were already growing anxious about the upcoming Champions League final.

Man City was aiming for the treble [winning the domestic league, domestic cup, and Champions League], hoping to win today and carry that momentum into the Champions League.

But if today, the crucial link in that chain, was broken, they couldn’t guarantee success in the Champions League either.

How could they possibly defeat Real Madrid, their Champions League final opponent, if they couldn’t even overcome West Ham?

Ernesto, seemingly resigned to the situation, was leaning back on the bench, watching the game unfold.

As the clock ticked closer to the 90-minute mark, his mind was consumed with thoughts about the upcoming summer transfer window.

‘I have to bring him in, no matter what it takes.’

West Ham had truly become a formidable force.

Compared to last year, they were a completely transformed team.

And that transformation was solely due to Vardy.

As today’s game clearly demonstrated, as long as that guy remains at West Ham,

I can’t guarantee anything for next year.

Even the league title, which we’ve come to expect as a matter of course.

If we can acquire Vardy, West Ham will revert to their previous state.

And Man City?

They won’t remain the dominant force in the league.

They won’t be content with simply being the best team in Europe either.

Ernesto believed that Man City with Vardy could become a team that surpasses even Barcelona, who dominated an era in the past.

I have to bring him in, no matter the cost.

No matter what.

‘Winning will secure you a lifetime of worry-free living? What a joke. We can provide you with a lifetime of worry-free living for generations to come.’

Anyway, the fact that Ernesto was preoccupied with such thoughts during the game spoke volumes.

That’s how frustrating the game had become.

There was a clear difference in the attitudes of the two teams towards today’s match.

Man City, with the Champions League final looming, and West Ham, who were staking everything on today’s game.

It would be surprising if there wasn’t a difference.

Of course,

The biggest difference was the difference made by number 9 [Vardy’s jersey number].

Before they knew it, only 10 minutes remained.

Now it was all or nothing for Man City.

Man City was making a desperate push, raising their already high defensive line even further and bringing on attacking players after substituting a defender.

However, the more they pushed, the more united West Ham became.

The clock on the scoreboard had stopped.

The added time was a mere 2 minutes.

Those 2 minutes felt like an eternity for Man City, but for West Ham, it was a time that seemed to drag on forever.

However, it wasn’t because they were struggling to withstand Man City’s attacks during those 2 minutes.

What they were finding difficult to endure was simply the agonizing wait for the moment of victory.

Hurry up, hurry up!

Referee! Blow that whistle!

“···”

The 2 minutes of added time had elapsed.

The referee raised the whistle to his lips.

And, finally.

“Peeeeeep, Peeeeeep, Peeeeeep-!”

The moment the long-awaited three whistles echoed through Wembley.

“Ugh… Ugh…!”

The West Ham players on the field raised their arms in triumph,

“Yaaaaaaaaa!”

The players on the bench surged onto the field without hesitation.