Dynasty Awakening: Building My Own Football Empire-Chapter 257: Bridge

The next ten minutes went by in a similar fashion, with Tottenham showing the same boring possession tactics, yet unable to get a shot on target. The controlled and consistent pressing of Barnsley kept them at bay.

However, Michael noticed a shift in the Spurs players’ body language. If before they were just going through the motions with expressionless faces, they now seemed more alert, making eye contact with each other and even being more vocal.

Vicario and Udogie were the proponents of this as they started to be more aggressive with their positioning. It was the 38th minute and Son Heung-min was dropping deep, ready for the next safe pass.

His expression was desperate. This was the first game that he had such little impact, not even able to touch the ball in the final third after 20 minutes. He prided himself on being the captain, yet he was being shut down by his own manager’s system.

Son had already resolved himself to pass backward, no matter what.

The ball came rolling towards him from the midfield and he prepared to cushion it back to the defenders without hesitation, intending to keep the possession stats high. However, Udogie suddenly sprinted past him, screaming for the ball to be played forward.

Michael’s eyes opened wide before a smile formed on his face. That run was the first overlapping sprint that Udogie had made all game, filling him with excitement.

His gaze moved to The Manager who finally had a change of expression. His usual calm smile was nowhere to be seen, now replaced by a displeased frown. He had not even been upset when Barnsley had scored the first goal, yet only after a single risky run his face had contorted.

’Hahaha, so that robot manager can have this kind of expression too?’ Michael felt a sense of pleasure seeing the reaction of Tottenham’s boss. However, he had a feeling as if it was going to be a lot worse.

Unaware of the new dynamic, poor Son continued to look for the safe option for the next two phases of play, thinking they would be scolded for losing the ball as The Manager had drilled into them all season. However, he was quickly tackled by Lukas Weber.

Michael stifled a chuckle and placed his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, giving him some jelly babies for stressing out over the press. He walked up to the edge of the technical area and got into position.

The moment he got into place, the Tottenham goalkeeper suddenly ran out, no longer sitting deep in his box as he had done all game.

"Hahaha, so you’ve finally decided to play your own way now?" Michael said, talking to Vicario who had already controlled the ball with his feet and was preparing for the press.

"We’ll play our own way." Vicario said, a smirk forming on his face.

However, before the first long pass could come he heard a voice on the sideline demanding for a halt. The fourth official looked at the benches before The Manager stormed out of his seat.

The Manager stormed onto the touchline and went straight to the edge of the pitch, getting close to Vicario with a furious expression.

"What the fuck are you doing? I told you to pass short to the center-back and reset!"

He was wearing a suit that cost thousands and was looking down at his goalkeeper intimidatingly, causing Michael to feel his anger rising. The poor Italian was staring at the ground and clenching his gloved fists tightly.

This was probably not the first time that the Manager had talked to him this way, as even some of the other players looked away uncomfortably.

Udogie walked over to the penalty box, his chest puffed out ready to defend his friend.

"Don’t listen to him Guglielmo. Just focus on what you want to do." He said, not even looking at the Manager.

"What!?" The Manager was incensed. He hadn’t expected to be so brazenly ignored during a match, so much so that he was at a loss for words momentarily.

Vicario finally raised his head and stared into the eyes of the man who had slowly squeezed the joy out of his beloved game.

"I won’t do as you say anymore. After this game, I’ll be asking for a transfer." His face was filled with resolution, wanting to break free from the shackles imposed on him.

The Manager’s face turned bright red as the anger reached his head. "P-Preposterous! I’m subbing you off right this instant. I have no need for rebellious idiots like yourself in my system." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

He turned to the bench and shouted out, "Forster! Davies! You’re replacing Vicario and Udogie, hurry up and get on the field."

However, the two substitutes both turned the other way as if they heard nothing. A look of confusion crept onto the Manager’s face before realization suddenly hit.

"Oh I see how it is... Skipp! Royal! It’s finally time for you to step up." He called to the two reserves who were warming up. Although he didn’t want to use them, he needed to salvage some face.

Yet once again he was ignored, leaving him stranded on the touchline with everyone’s gaze upon him. He had never felt such embarrassment before, nor had he ever been disrespected this much in front of forty thousand people.

"Y-You two!" The Manager’s face turned bright red as he pointed at Udogie and Vicario, about to take out his frustrations on the two rebels.

"Manager, it’s time to resume play. Get back in your technical area or you will be sent to the stands." The referee walked over and sent out a warning, perfectly interrupting the meltdown that was about to happen.

The Manager felt as if he was going to tear out his hair, he had never experienced such a thing in his 20 years of coaching. Years of studying the game of possession had allowed him to perfect his robotic methods.

He didn’t need players that stuck out, all he needed was for them to listen to his orders. He was the general, the tactician and the emperor, and these were just his peasants who should never disobey him.

The redness in his face began to dissipate, yet his face twisted into one of scorn. "You two have really done it now. I’ll make sure that you don’t play for any top club in Europe in your life!"

Without waiting for the referee, he walked straight off the touchline and sat deep in the dugout, slamming his water bottle on the ground and kicking it. After his tantrum, he crossed his arms, not even wanting to stand and coach the game.