Chapter 67

(Collect, recommend, collect, recommend!)

Seeing the dejected Cudicini, Qiao Wanxian walked up to him with a smile and patted his shoulder, "Young man, you did well in the first half. Keep it up in the second half!"

Cudicini, who was already over 30, was called a young man by Qiao Wanxian, which made Terry, Ramos, and others chuckle. However, Cudicini was not offended and asked in surprise, "Boss, didn't you say you were going to put Cech on in the second half?"

Qiao Wanxian nodded mysteriously, "Of course, but I didn't say I was going to substitute you out!"

"What... what?" Everyone in the dressing room was shocked again. If Cech was to come on, and not to replace Cudicini, what position would he play? Was he not going to be the goalkeeper anymore?

Seeing the astonished looks on everyone's faces, Qiao Wanxian said proudly, "Owen is seriously injured, and Gudjohnsen has a pulled calf. They can't play in this match. The team's front line clearly lacks manpower. Didn't Cech play as a forward when he was young? Let's give it a try!"

"Oh?" Everyone's mouths dropped open.

Qiao Wanxian squinted and said, "Joe Cole doesn't have enough stamina, so he won't play in the second half. Wayne Rooney will move back to left wing, Duff will play on the right, and the striker will be our Chelsea's No. 1 player—Peter Cech! Isn't Sansone trying to act superior? I'll humiliate him. A goalkeeper playing as a forward, I'll make him lose face!"

"Great! Boss, you're right!" Kaka, Ramos, and others crowded around, flattering him, "Boss, your idea is truly great. A goalkeeper playing another position, it's only seen in friendly matches. Now it's happening in an important League Cup match, it will shock the entire football world!"

Kaka sneaked up to Qiao Wanxian and whispered, "Boss, why don't you let me play? I can pass to Cech. If he scores in open play, it will be even more embarrassing for Sansone!"

Qiao Wanxian glared at him, "No way! Want to earn some appearance fees? Not that easy! The club's money isn't something you can embezzle with your little tricks!"

Kaka felt deeply wronged. He just wanted to play, not to sit on the bench. He didn't expect the boss to say such "insulting" words. He sat back in the corner, pouting with tears in his eyes.

Encouraged by the players and the coach, Cech was still very nervous and said timidly, "Boss, I... I did play as a forward when I was young, but that was over ten years ago. I've long forgotten how to dribble and shoot. Letting me play as a forward... isn't that inappropriate?"

"How is it inappropriate?" Qiao Wanxian's face turned serious.

"Right, it's appropriate. Let the boss give you a 'passionate training' session, and you'll definitely score easily!" Little Rooney chimed in with a grin, which earned a round of laughter.

Qiao Wanxian, now the laughingstock, turned red and kicked Rooney's butt, saying angrily, "Brat, don't you want to play in the second half?"

Rooney's face stiffened, and he immediately softened, bowing and apologizing.

Qiao Wanxian's expression improved, and he beckoned Cech over. After calling him, he put his right hand, which held a liquid, inside Cech's jersey and massaged his waist.

Seeing this, everyone tried to suppress their laughter, their faces turning red, and their shoulders shaking. Some even shed tears of laughter. Rooney looked around proudly and secretly poked Qiao Wanxian in the air.

After the 15-minute break, both teams entered the field to start the second half.

"As soon as the second half starts, Chelsea will make a substitution. In a leading position, making a substitution at this time, we must say, Qiao Wanxian's tactical flexibility is truly amazing." After commentating on Premier League matches for several rounds, Zhan Jun had become a loyal fan of Qiao Wanxian. However, he then exclaimed, "Hmm? Is Qiao Wanxian planning to change the goalkeeper? We see Cech warming up on the sidelines. It's strange, the Italian Cudicini performed well in the first half, with no reason to be substituted. Once substituted, it would be a huge blow to his self-esteem! Hmm... It seems we can only say that Qiao Wanxian must have read Sun Tzu's Art of War, with unpredictable and baffling moves."

The fourth official raised the board: No. 10 off, No. 1 on!

The entire St. James' Park stadium buzzed! Even the commentator was shocked into silence, rubbing his eyes to confirm he wasn't mistaken, and said in astonishment, "Oh God, what is Qiao Wanxian doing? He's taken off No. 10 Joe Cole and brought on No. 1 Cech. Could it be... could it be that he's going to play Cech as a winger or a striker? This is simply unbelievable, completely beyond the logic of football!"

Indeed, Cech took off his training gear but didn't put on the black goalkeeper's kit. Instead, he wore a blue jersey! The prominent number 1 and the string of English letters on the back dazzled all the fans in the stadium!

Even Newcastle's manager, Sansone, was shocked, his mouth agape as if he had a mouthful of chicken droppings, and he said painfully, "What... what is Qiao Wanxian up to? Using a goalkeeper as a striker, does he think my Newcastle defense is a joke?"

After a long moment of shock, the commentator quickly consoled himself, "It seems the young Chelsea manager, under immense pressure, hopes Cech can help the team expand the lead. But can a goalkeeper score? This substitution is undoubtedly digging his own grave! Newcastle's chance to overtake is coming!"

Cech, standing at 1.97 meters tall, towered over Newcastle's penalty area like an ancient lookout tower, even higher than the opposing center-backs. His excellent jumping ability, honed from years of goalkeeper training, gave him absolute control over aerial balls.

After a few minutes of silence, Zhan Jun finally understood the situation on the field and sighed, "Qiao Wanxian is absolutely the world's best manager! With Rooney on the left wing, Duff on the right, and Cech as the lone striker, this formation looks even more lethal than Owen! Chelsea's attack used to lack a high point, but with Cech, the game becomes more three-dimensional, a 3D offensive strategy that Newcastle can't defend against! But Cech only played as a forward when he was young, so we don't know how well he can perform now... Oh, my God!"

In Zhan Jun's surprise, the commentator was also stunned, "Oh God, what... what just happened? The... the ball went in?" His stuttering voice matched the stunned looks of the fans and the despair of Newcastle's manager, Sansone.

Less than 5 minutes into the second half, most fans had just returned from the bathroom and hadn't even warmed their seats when they saw Chelsea players celebrating a goal in a pile, and the referee pointing to the center circle with a blank expression.

Newcastle's players looked bewildered, their eyes filled with confusion, "He... he really has the potential of a tall striker?"

The commentator, who had been distracted, had to rely on the slow-motion replay to find his footing, "Oh, indeed, a goal! Let's look at the slow-motion replay. The young right-back Johnson made a high-speed run and received a pass from Duff, choosing to cross from the wing! Hmm... this tactic is not common in this Chelsea team... Hmm? A tall player jumped high, winning the first point, heading the ball to the far post... Rooney! Rooney is too strong, he held off two defenders and scored with a sliding shot, 3-0! Leading... uh, Newcastle is temporarily down by 3 goals, we still have hope..."

Rooney scored his second goal, but the bigger credit goes to the team's tall striker, Peter Cech! His height and jumping advantages were fully displayed, making him a towering presence that Newcastle's players could only admire from afar.

Newcastle's defender Moore, who had jumped for the header with Cech, held his head in despair, his face full of disbelief, "How does he have such strength and coordination? I couldn't control the ball even with that collision, even Crouch couldn't! How can a goalkeeper have such outstanding ability?"

Compared to Moore, Sansone on the sidelines looked even more helpless. His eyes were dull and lifeless, no longer the elegant and calm presence he had in the first half. He paced anxiously along the touchline, shouting and screaming like a rural woman, drawing glances from the fourth official.

Qiao Wanxian, hands on his hips, looked at Sansone with satisfaction. At one moment, he noticed Sansone turning to look at him and quickly extended his index finger, shaking it mockingly.

Sansone was instantly furious, his face turning red, and he roared at the fourth official, "Look, Qiao Wanxian is making insulting gestures at me! He must be sent to the stands!"

The fourth official turned to look and saw Qiao Wanxian blowing a whistle with a blank expression, shaking his head and looking a bit sleazy, but making no gestures. He then said coldly, "Mr. Sansone, I didn't see any insulting gestures, but I heard insulting language from you! You'd better sit quietly on the bench, or I won't hesitate to tell the referee to send you to the stands!"

Sansone's face stiffened, and he looked at Qiao Wanxian again, who was still shaking his finger, making him so angry that he almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

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