George Wood realized that the opponent's number 8, Lampard, who had been avoiding him throughout the first half, was actively engaging with him now in the second half. He was perplexed.

But, with such problems, if Wood could not think through it, he would simply stop thinking about it. Anyhow, Lampard approaching on his own initiative saved him trouble; he only needed to wait and defend.

In his mind, defending was several levels easier than going on the offensive.

He felt that Lampard was a little different from the first half; his hand movements were on the increase. But Wood was not at all bothered. When he defended, he also had additional movements like that. They were taught to him by the managerial team and his other teammates during training. In other words, while Lampard thought he was provoking Wood, Wood saw it as a very normal thing to do.

In the end…

Mourinho shook his head as he watched from below. He had miscalculated. He should not have gotten Lampard to do such a thing. Such an upright Englishman was not suitable for it…

There was no need to force it if it did not work; it was just a method he had come up with on the fly.

At that thought, Mourinho stood and walked slowly to the sidelines. He was prepared to signal to Lampard for him to stop whatever he was doing and to return his focus to breaking through Forest's gates.

Simultaneously, Forest launched an attack. It began with Edwin van der Sar who threw the ball to Chimbonda. The Frenchman then passed it to Ashley Young, who had returned to follow up on their attack.

William Gallas approached to press him for the ball. In response, Ashley Young and Arteta pulled off a quick two-versus-one pass. Passing the ball to Arteta, Ashley Young turned and ran forward. Tacitly, the Spaniard immediately sent out a kick that went over Gallas' head.

The ball did not land at Ashley Young's feet, instead flying towards his front. That was exactly what he had hoped for. He could widen his steps and make full use of his speed advantage.

Gallas' chase after Ashley Young was certain to fail. Carvalho then took off into the wings while Gallas sprinted towards the middle of the penalty area to momentarily take over the position of center back, filling in the defensive gap created by Carvalho.

"It's another rapid counterattack! The speed of Forest's flanks is not at all inferior to Chelsea, who has Robben and Duff!"

Although the brilliance and abilities of Ashley Young could not be compared with Ribéry, he was, at the very least, still frequenting England's National Youth Team. Things like flanking attacks were some of his best moves. His breakthrough was like a strong gust of wind, stirring up the red waves in City Ground's spectators' stand.

Carvalho leaped forward ferociously. With an abrupt knock with his back heel, Ashley Young took the ball inside, at the same time switching up the direction of his movement. However, the core center back of the Portuguese National Team was not so easily deceived. Seeing Ashley Young lift his foot, he hastily skidded to a stop. When his opponent stopped, that was when he would stop too.

"It didn't get past!"

But it wasn't over.

After changing direction, Ashley Young rapidly followed up with his right foot, kicking the ball in the direction of the end line, yet again changing his line of movement.

Carvalho's reaction was quick. Whenever Ashley Young moved, he followed. Although he could not keep up in terms of speed, he still had his legs. They were extremely close to the end line now. According to experience, Ashley Young would try to pass center; of all the midfielders in last season's English Premier, he had the highest count of passes to the center.

As expected, at the moment when Carvalho stretched his leg out to block Ashley Young's pass to the center, the core side midfielder of England's National Youth Team attempted exactly that.

Except that his pass route was a little higher than Carvalho's raised leg.

The football drew a high arc in the air, descending to the front of Chelsea's goal.

"A pass to the center!"

The pass was still affected by Carvalho's defense; its path was a little too high, a disadvantage for the forwards who had burst forward in their battle to get into position.

The three from Forest—Anelka, Mark Viduka, and Franck Ribéry—entered. Adding to that three rear defenders and a defending midfielder from Chelsea, seven people were crowded before the goal.

Faced with so many players crowded before him, Čech calculated quickly in his mind and decided there was a risk of losing the ball if they continued trying to hold onto it; he might as well use a powerful strike to launch it outwards…

His fist landed on the football and successfully punched it out of the penalty area. But, the one who received the ball on the outside was not Chelsea's player. It was someone in a red jersey—Arteta!

"Motherf…" Mourinho swore on the sidelines.

Arteta's first contact with the ball could not kill it properly, and it bounced up in front of him.

"Makelele-"

The veteran French defensive midfielder dashed forward to intercept the ball, disregarding his own safety with the possibility of getting kicked himself.

Arteta was in a clear position to do a direct volley. The bouncing of the ball delayed him, but it was just as well. He could do a direct volley through the air!

Arteta did not see Makelele. His eyes saw only the football and the goal. Whatever was between did not exist to him.

"It's- a volley!!"

Čech quickly reacted. As he landed, he saw that Forest's player had received the ball and immediately jumped to his feet again, leaping in the direction where the ball had come from. But...

If Makelele had not stood between Arteta and Čech, the shot would have had an 80 to 90% chance of being blocked by Čech. As it turned out, when Makelele stretched his feet out to block the shot flying at him, the ball bounced off his kneecap and changed directions.

Even if Čech had been possessed by God in that instant, he could have done nothing to the ball that flew in the complete opposite direction.

Everyone watched as the ball crossed through the mob of players and flew into the other half of the goal.

Everyone—Tang En, the fans on the spectators' stand, and the fans before their television sets—all jumped up with their arms raised.

"Nottingham Forest leads against Chelsea with a score of 2:1!"

"Forest! Forest!!"

Everyone, both at the live scene and before the television, started yelling.

"It looks like the psychological advantage that Tang En's team has over Chelsea is continuing! Nottingham Forest does not fear Chelsea…"

"That's right, they're not afraid!!"

"Mourinho is in a pinch. From the beginning of the season until now, 10 rounds of the League have gone by. In that duration, Chelsea has yet to lose a match. On September 22 last year, in the seventh round of the last Premier League, they lost to Forest in this very stadium. From that point on, 41 rounds of the league have taken place. His team has not lost in the English Premier League since then! This is an incredible result. If they take down this match, they will create the second-best result of a no-loss streak in the English Premier League. They would be second only to Wenger's Arsenal, and tied at second with Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest. But now, Clough's successor is taking actions to tell Mourinho, even if Forest's previous record had already been passed, it's still not that easy to catch up with it!"

"Forest's previous glory has to be defended by Forest themselves!"

In truth, if Motson and Lineker had not brought that up, no one would have likely remembered that record. Anyway, it was already surpassed by Arsenal… Tang En had not used it to spur his team members before the match.

Especially after their goal, Forest's players did not bother thinking so much about it. They had finally gotten an opportunity to score again. They would not be letting go of this chance! All of them excitedly ran to the main spectators' stand as a group and faced the luxury box above. Under the lead of Arteta, who had scored, every one of them lifted their jerseys.

Including goalkeeper Edwin van der Sar, the not-too-sociable Anelka, and George Wood, all eleven players had this written across their chests:

"Recover soon, we're waiting for you, Freddy!"

Despite knowing beforehand what they were going to do, Tang En still felt moved when he was faced with the scene. Watching Anelka, who was usually distant from the entire team, and George Wood, who was always somewhat restrained, stand amongst the group with their unnatural expressions and their jerseys lifted to show the well-wishes written on their chests, Tang En felt that his team was already a cohesive unit no matter how it seemed on the surface.

When each person thought just a little more for someone else, that someone else would also think a bit more for them.

Tang En led the applause. Everyone in the technical area as well as those on the substitutes' bench stood up and followed their lead in applauding those 11 players in thanks.

Following that, City Ground erupted in resounding applause that lasted for a long, long time.

※※※

"Freddy Eastwood, who was severely injured and absent from matches for seven months, is at this moment sitting in the luxury box. We don't know how he feels watching this scene, but I have to say, this is one of the most moving celebrations I've seen. Borrowing their words, I also hope for Eastwood to recover soon and hurry back onto the field. He's really a likable young lad."

※※※

Eastwood, who had just been standing and cheering for the goal with the others, suddenly fell silent.

Sabina surreptitiously glanced at her husband and found him with a glimmer in his eyes. She smiled and said nothing, continuing to applaud.

Everyone in the luxury box responded the same way as did the 20 thousand fans beneath, in the spectators' stands. They did not cheer loudly or scream in excitement; they only smiled and kept clapping.