When he got home, Twain could only vent all his disappointment to Dunn. This was not the first or second time that Dunn had acted as his audience. He ate his meal while he listened to Twain grumble.

"…Damn the Celtics! Dammit! If it weren't for them, Roy Keane would be my man now! Our midfield would have a player who all our opponents would be afraid of, a fierce player and a commander! He could have helped me get all the championship titles. He can still play three more years of high-level football, not just run to Glasgow to prepare for his retirement! And that's not even a good place to retire; it's much worse than Qatar," Twain eventually mumbled to himself.

When Dunn finished eating, he cleared the dishes and glanced the still somewhat agitated Twain. "In that case, the media will say that Nottingham Forest is a retirement home now."

"I don't give a damn what the media says." Twain furiously took a bite of the beef.

"We still Wood in the midfield."

"George? He's still young and has a lot to learn. Roy Keane is a good teacher, but the time was too short. I don't know what he has or hasn't learned."

"If you're not sure now, you'll know during the game."

Twain sighed. "Dunn, I originally had a good plan, for Albertini to teach George how to be a qualified midfielder and professional player. That turned out pretty well. George is much better than he was when he originally joined the First Team. And his and Keane's temperaments are very similar. I want George to be the kind of player who has the ability to lead a team. Why is Manchester United successful? Because they have Roy Keane. I think you understand that even better than I do."

Dunn nodded. In the 97-98 season, Wenger's Arsenal team had scored a double. That season, Roy Keane had only played nine games for Manchester United due to his knee injury. After that season, Ferguson acknowledged that Manchester United was unable to fight Arsenal without Keane.

Roy Keane's role in Manchester United was not as simple as just a team captain. To a larger extent, he represented the spirit of Manchester United. It was almost impossible to link the name "Roy Keane" to any other teams. When Keane was mentioned, it would invariably remind people of Manchester United. When Manchester United was mentioned, it was not Beckham or Gary Neville that came to mind. It was only Roy Keane. He was even considered by many Manchester United fans to be the greatest and most successful captain in Manchester United's history, surpassing "The King," Eric Cantona, the legendary captain.

There was a word in football that vividly illustrated such a player: a linchpin.

Paolo Maldini was the linchpin of AC Milan, Raúl González was Real Madrid's linchpin, Alessandro Del Piero was the linchpin of Juventus, Oliver Kahn was the linchpin of Bayern Munich, and Roy Keane was Manchester United's.

Twain hoped that George Wood could become the linchpin of Nottingham Forest someday. He had wanted Keane to give Wood more help and guidance and bring him closer to becoming a linchpin.

But now...

"But now my plans are all over," said Twain as he leaned back in the chair with his hands spread wide open.

"I remember you said to me once that football can't be planned."

"Oh…"

※※※

No matter how unwilling Twain was to let Keane go, there was no way to change things now. The only gratifying thing was that through this matter, he and Keane had become friends. Maybe that would be a good thing in the future. After all, as an outsider, it was better to have one more friend in the football world than to have one more enemy.

During training the next day, Roy Keane appeared on time in the other half of the field. Twain went over to say hello to him, and then he returned to continue the training. Everyone was accustomed to the scene and did not stare like they had on the first day.

Perhaps they did not even know that this was Keane's last appearance at the Wilford training ground.

After he had returned home yesterday, Twain had checked all of the major media outlets and found no news about Keane's transfer to Celtic. Keane could not have lied to him, so there was only one possibility: the news had not been disclosed yet, and he, Tony Twain, might have been the first to know of the matter other than the parties involved. From that perspective, Keane really saw Twain as a friend.

Every player who was on the starting list for the away game tomorrow had to prepare to play with Aston Villa, so there was only a half-day of training in the morning. After the training was over, George Wood would arrange additional practice for himself as always.

The coaching unit and the entire team were aware that that had already become Wood's habit. A half-day training was too easy for him. Whenever there was a half-day, he would practice for another forty minutes after training ended.

When the players on the training ground went back to the locker room one by one, Roy Keane was still on the training ground beside George Wood.

It was the first time in almost two weeks that he had given himself additional practice.

Wood was practicing his passing, and Keane was practicing his shooting.

Twenty-five minutes later, Keane left the training ground first and returned to the locker room, covered in sweat. He took off his clothes to wash up in the next room. He did not stand under the shower but soaked inside the pool.

Fifteen minutes later, Keane heard the door in the locker room. He looked at his watch. It was exactly forty minutes after the end of the training, not a minute more or less.

This kid...

After the rustling sound of clothes being taken off, George Wood walked naked into the foggy bathroom, turned on the faucet, reached out to test the water temperature, and fully stepped under the nozzle to let the hot water rain on him from head to toe.

While he closed his eyes to enjoy a moment of relaxation after training, a voice made him reflexively tense up.

"Hey, kid."

It was Roy Keane's voice.

"What are you tense about?"

Wood relaxed his body and continued to stand under the shower. He did nothing except let the gush of water flow down from his head.

"You should know who I am. We even exchanged jerseys before."

"Roy Keane." Wood finally spoke.

Keane gave a bark of laughter. "It seems you haven't forgotten me. Do you still remember what I said to you when we exchanged jerseys? 'We're going to compete often; don't let me down, kid.' It's a shame that we're not going to have many opportunities to do that. I'm going to Glasgow tomorrow. Do you know where that is? It's the capital of Scotland. I'm going there to sign with a team... When we met, I never thought I'd leave Manchester United one day." Keane changed his position in the pool and put his head on the side of the pool. He put his arms up on the edge and looked up at the ceiling.

"Even though we may not have many chances to compete with each other, I'll keep my eye on you. You want to know why I care about you, kid?"

Wood moved a little to turn and look at the figure in the pool. "Um..."

"Because you have similarities with the younger me. Well, just some. Your talent is nowhere close to mine. Hey, I heard that Real Madrid was interested in you a while ago. Why did you reject them? It's a much bigger football club than Nottingham Forest. While your team was still fighting to qualify for the Champions League, they considered about not winning the championship a failure. If you go there, you'll soon become an internationally-renowned star. Honor, glory, and money would be yours. Why didn't you go?"

"I don't want to go."

"Huh. Glory and money hold little attraction for you? Why did I transfer from the Forest team to Manchester United? Why did I insist on the condition that 'if the Forest team relegates, I will leave the team,' when I renewed my contract with Nottingham Forest? Because I knew that Nottingham Forest was only a small team that couldn't hold me back. I had higher goals and bigger ambitions. I wanted to win a lot of things. Have you thought about that? What are you playing for, kid?"

Two people had asked George Wood that question, what are you playing for? In the past two weeks. The first was his manager, Tony Twain.

In the past, Wood had wanted to play because professional players were paid a lot. He could support himself and his mother, and his mother could receive treatment for her illness. Later, the Forest club paid for them to move out of the slums and get surgery for his mother. He had already achieved his goal for playing. So, what was he still playing for?

Wood contemplated for a long while before he bowed his head and said, "I don't know."

Keane did not mean to discomfit Wood on the issue. He changed the topic and said, "By the way, I heard you're the team's vice-captain now. How does it feel to wear the captain's armband?"

"Very… It's very complicated."

"Do you ever feel proud of it?" Keane asked.

Wood nodded.

"And then do you feel stressed?"

Wood continued to nod.

At that moment, Keane laughed. " And here I thought you were a hard-hearted monster. Kid, what do you think the captain does?"

Wood recalled the words that Twain and Albertini had said to him. "Help his teammates disentangle from trouble and lead the team to victory."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It's not that simple, kid. When I played on the Nottingham Forest team, I met a very, very good team captain whom I still thank today. Stuart Pearce. Have you heard that name before?"

Wood nodded. He was aware that he was the Forest team's best team captain.

"I was a young and inexperienced kid then, and he opened my eyes. He showed me what a professional player was, what an outstanding professional player was, and… He showed how a captain should act. Consequently, when I wore the Manchester United's captain's armband at twenty-six, I seemed like I could do the job well and with ease."

"Let me tell you… A captain is first and foremost a man. Do you know what it means to be a man, kid?"

Wood did not know how to answer Keane's question. A man… Isn't it just biological? He lowered his head.