The referee, irritated by Leroy's continuous attempt to press his point, stood motionless at the centre of the pitch. "NO! NO PROBLEM! IT'S NO VAR and that's FINAL! NO REF CALL! No SITUATION IS FORGIVABLE! He got a little careless! And it was a clumsy challenge!"
As the referee spoke, he was aware that his teammates were in front of him, protesting in anger. The crowd were booing him and yelling. But he was confused, he was merely telling the player to not disturb him in his decision-making. "Quit it." the referee snarled back before pointing at the spot: the penalty spot.
The commentator had his eyes popped out as he leaned forward from his seat to confirm the referee's gestures on the pitch. "And he has given it! Penalty for Le Harve following a mistimed tackle. They have to score here if they want to have any chance of winning this match."
The caucasian manager withdraw his presence from the sidelines as he returned to the dugout, not paying the faintest of concern regarding the penalty that had been awarded to Le Harve. Kai noticed this action whilst celebrating with the staff for the penalty awarded to them. He was confused, bewildered even by the manager's actions. Does he not even concern himself for a moment like this? It is a penalty! What kind of person does this?
The event left a hole in his mind that made Kai unfocused on the penalty. Though Kai could not say that he felt a bit good, he could somewhat believe that their opponents were hit with a devastating blow, or more accurately, a hard knock to their state. But this Vlad... doesn't even bother witnessing the penalty, but remained emotionless as he sat in the dugout talking to the Amiens staff without concern.
What is Vlad brewing?
"AND HE SLOTS THE PENALTY WITH EASE! ACCURATELY FINDING THE CORNER THAT WAS NEVER GOING TO BE SAVED." Sébastien had a tiny smirk as he watched the Amiens No.2 angrily tug his hair. "The score is now 1–1. After the blockbuster opening given by Amiens, Le Harve equalised in the 29th minute to keep their unbeaten streak ongoing. Let's hope this is a sign from the gods that Le Harve still has many more goals to be scored in this match."
.
Marley looked over his shoulders, calming down the excited Lanier who was celebrating the goal scored by Chevalier from the penalty. He nudged the tactical coach, grabbing his attention before pointing at Vlad down the line. "He's planning something."
Lanier, caught in his celebration, quickly settled his feverish mood before noticing Vlad is busy talking with his assistant manager and pointing at their tactic board. "Bittersweet news..." Lanier sat down on the bench as he eyed the formation board. "Looks like Amiens will make some changes to limit our threat. But only how..."
Then, Marley noticed a suspicious activity that the Amiens' coach was doing; something that completely escaped him to notice before now. Whilst the Le Harve team was celebrating the goal, Vlad gathered the entire team to his side as he delivered some sort of message to his players. What is he up to? What is he planning?
Then, with great shock, Marley watched Vlad come down the pitch, clapping for his players to show his support to them. Suddenly, he shouted: "Just do as I say... and that will be their last goal."
Everyone, everyone that was caught midst the activities on the pitch suddenly changed their attention to Vlad, who had stated such a ridiculous declaration that they couldn't help but react with complex emotions.
Marley noticed a mixture of confusion, amusement, and curiosity on the faces of his players, and stared right at Vlad, his stare unwavering. He doesn't even blink an eyelash! He doesn't give a single sign of what he is about to do.
Marley and Lanier that sat on the bench almost got up in an instant. Openly declaring that Le Harve would not score any goal? What kind of madman would state something so outrageous, and more concerning was whom it was directed? Those two coaches are the people who contributed the most to the Le Harve tactic, they wouldn't openly accept this belittlement of their abilities.
.
The match again resumed from the centre circle. Whatever is different on the pitch from before, Lanier and Marley were busy dissecting just what, exactly what has Vlad changed in his Amiens youth team. Impatiently trying to discover what is the source of Vlad's confidence, and to find a way to destroy this overconfidence and teach him a lesson.
The ball is passed down the pitch, the tempo increasing from before. Whereas Amiens used to only concern themselves with eliminating the risk posed by Le Harve, the visitors appear to have more of a vicious edge to them, being more direct and relying less on possession. They were playing at a higher tempo and more direct than ever.
This... This is what will leave Le Harve redundant in front of the goal? Lanier was confused, is this what will make them not able to score?
The ball ricocheted back and forth in rapid succession. Long balls over the pitch can be viewed in every moment since the score has equalised. What is going on? Traditional England Long Ball?
The time twinkled down on the match clock as it approaches half-time, both sides of the pitch, Le Harve and Amiens, were extremely tired as they watch the ball bounce around the pitch. It was like fire against fire. Both teams seemed to have already expended their resources in throwing themselves against each other, unable to get in each other's way. The two teams defended each other and attacked each other. Like a fight that was equally matched, with no side in firm control of the match flow. It was... chaos.
.
The half-time whistle has blown amid the heavy torrent of mounting pressure. As the players were finally allowed to catch their breath and rest as they left the pitch in preparation for the second half. They only have 15 minutes of rest, and they must ensure every minute was well spent.
The players slumped on the dugout as they rested their fatigued bodies against it. A few silent minutes later, Le Harve manager Marley, attempted to take his players into a huddle. But instead, he was stopped cold.
Marley and Lanier stood to attention. Their attention focused on the players that were awaiting a voice to redirect them, to rekindle their fighting spirit. "Boys... Efficiency. Why is it that we played at such a high tempo and intensity in the first half, and we have this monotonous approach in the second half? If we play at this tempo in the second half, then we will be relentless in our approach. If we can stop being so nervous, then we will be unstoppable. No longer can Amiens bomb forward on us as they did in the first half. We need to be more efficient." Lanier stated as he eyed a few particular players that were playing in the forward positions.
"Yes, boss..." Eze echoed as he walked to the edge of the huddle. "... but we also need to play to the strengths of each of us...". Eze retorted with a glare of emphasis.
Lanier grunted in agreement with Eze, "Yeah, I get what you are saying, but how do we change it? We already got them back-to-back in that first half. It's only their mid-game adjustment we have to worry about. But less about them and more about us."
Marley leaned in as he held the tactic board in his grasp, yet the board had its back facing the players as the magnets were hidden from the players' eyes. "Lanier and I came up with this one together. We need to play more direct. But not simpleton direct, but of a measured directness to carve Amiens open."
"This... formation will work, but only if you guys play your natural game... Ignore your positions on the field, and play with your instinct."
Roys held his hand up and in panted breathed asked. "And what formation is this?"
Lanier had a cheeky smile as he shook his head, "We will tell you before you get on the pitch…. But before that know this."
Lanier cleared his throat as he thought about how he should phrase his sentence. "You are all careless! Careless in that you underestimated your opposition, Damn it! Just because they are a relegation-tipped side doesn't mean this would be a walk in the park for us."
He pointed at the players, fuming as his breaths quickened. "You. You. You. You. Are you even motivated to play the match? You guys aren't even playing to the shape of the opposition. This is a league match. A measly 3 points can separate us to a League Trophy" Lanier pointed at a couple of players as he continued to chide them. "You guys play like you want to be the mid-table instead of the League champions. You are supposed to play for Le Harve in this match. Not your own personal stats and even egos. You guys are all lazy. Unmotivated. Rude. Dirty. The rest of the team has been patient with you guys and is tired of waiting around for you to fire."
The coach remained still as his players glared at him and began to look away in a collective sigh of defeat.
Lanier glanced at the watch before checking the match clock. "There's only a few minutes left so you better remember my words. ARBELAEZ, ROUSSEL. What was that? WHAT DID YOU DO?"
The players all turned around to see their fullbacks standing without words. The players all know the for the entire match, the two fullbacks that had the most touches on the ball, and the most time on the ball, yet there were invisible in the match.
"YOU DID NOTHING BUT PASS THE BALL BACK. DO YOU HAVE NO BALLS?!" Lanier bellowed as he clenched his fists. "YOU ARE MY RUNNING BUGS AND THERE IS SPACE ON THE LEFT OR RIGHT IF YOU OVERLAP YOU FUCKING CURSEFUCKERS."
The fullbacks were almost frozen in fear as they took deep breaths and looked at each other in a broken state.
"AND YOU. EZE, CHEVALIER. USE YOUR FULLBACKS DAMN IT. STOP CROSSING THE BALL AND USE YOUR PARTNER."
Marley butted in before Lanier could continue his tirade. "Guys. guys. Use your heads. Amiens' 5-3-2 doesn't have many wide players. We have to abuse that fact and stretch them. In other words, Eze, Chevalier..."
Marley stared at the two wingers on the field. "Hug the line and just lay it to your fullback."
Both players looked confused but soon looked away and nodded.
Marley went on. "You know. They only have one player in the wide area. If you guys hold up the ball and play Arbelaez or Roussel for the overlap, they wouldn't able to cope with this... This is what we must do to break them down."
But Leroy, the striker of the team looked stunned at this, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what his coaches said. Cross the ball into the box? That would work in theory... but only if the striker can jump high... which is the exact opposite to Leroy, who stands at a humble 5ft5 / 167cm.