Chapter 25

Not all things with a long history are antiques, and not all teams with a long history are giants. Huelva, one of the oldest teams in Spain, is a perfect example. To put it bluntly, it's like a cockroach with a strong survival instinct, always unable to make it to the big stage. Occasionally, it might jump in front of you, but its usual fate is to be quickly swatted away, or at best, to earn a few screams from the ladies before dying.

With over a hundred years of history, Huelva has only been promoted to the top league for the third time in its history. The team that finished eighth last season has lost its former glory and will have to fight for survival this season. However, their luck is much worse than that of Valladolid, the relegation-threatened team Atletico Madrid faced earlier. They are now up against a completely different Atletico Madrid.

There was not much applause, but there was also not much booing. This was the best atmosphere at the Calderon Stadium in nearly two months. After all, a 3-3 draw was enough to temporarily ease the frustration of Atletico Madrid's fans, who had been pent up for over two months. Of course, how much applause the team could earn was always up to the team itself.

Victor Munoz, the head coach of Huelva, was undoubtedly the most ordinary-looking coach Lin Sen had seen since becoming a manager. Lin Sen didn't need to use his special eyes to see Munoz's emotions; just his facial expressions were enough to gauge the situation on the field. When Munoz looked anxious, as if he wanted to rush onto the pitch, Huelva was likely looking for a scoring opportunity. When Munoz looked tense, almost biting his fingers, his team was definitely being dominated by Atletico Madrid. However, this Spanish coach, who looked much more pitiful than Lin Sen at the moment, had once led Zaragoza to a Copa del Rey victory over Real Madrid.

But no matter how fierce he was, what could he do with a weak team?

For a weak team, achieving good results can sometimes be a sad thing, because soon, your team becomes the meat on the chopping block for the big clubs. Your owner will wear various expressions of helplessness, secretly selling players while publicly complaining about financial difficulties. Poor financial performance didn't reveal financial difficulties, but good performance did? What kind of logic is that? This is the logic of many small club owners. Huelva, which finished eighth last season, was no exception. The team lost Bequer and Uche, and the former coach Marcelino, who had his spine removed, angrily announced his departure. No matter how capable Munoz was, he couldn't make a spineless person stand up.

Lin Sen couldn't help but sigh. Indeed, being a coach is a high-risk profession. Elegance is built on the foundation of a strong team. Otherwise, even a coach as great as Mourinho would be helpless. Thinking about this, Lin Sen became even more determined to use his "cheat."

For Atletico Madrid, the game was going smoothly. Within ten minutes of the start, Raul Garcia scored with a header from a corner kick, laying the foundation for a slow simmering of Huelva. This also provided Lin Sen with the conditions to leisurely play the part of a literary youth on the sidelines.

Wearing slacks, a shirt, and leather shoes, Lin Sen's outfit was almost the standard attire of a white-collar worker. If he had added a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, he would have been the perfect image.

In the south stand of the Calderon Stadium, in a corner with many female fans, three young girls in simple clothing formed a beautiful scene. All three were dressed in jeans and T-shirts. The woman with beautiful brown curly hair wore a wide-brimmed hat with lace and was looking down at her phone, her neck curve perfectly beautiful. The other two held binoculars, their lips invitingly red.

From the start of the game, Ariel had her binoculars focused on Lin Sen, evaluating him. She even counted how many times Lin Sen spoke to other coaches, how many times he drank water, and how many times he interacted with the players, noting any habitual movements. Then, she analyzed what these meant from a psychological perspective. When she deduced that Lin Sen might have some ability, Cinderella almost spat out the water she had just drunk, quickly covering Ariel's mouth to prevent her from saying anything outrageous.

Boya, on the other side, smiled and focused on the text on her phone, only occasionally glancing at the green pitch below when the cheers around her got too loud. Unlike Cinderella and Ariel, Boya, born in Spain, was no stranger to football. As a child, she often accompanied her father to watch matches, though she saw only a few each year, and mostly of the other team in Madrid. But with a theoretical basis, it was never a problem for her.

People who study psychology always like to categorize others and have a penchant for nitpicking. The ability to see the big picture in small details is more of a compulsive behavior than a skill. Boya was not as obsessed as Ariel; she had little interest in Lin Sen. Compared to Lin Sen, the game itself was more challenging for her observational skills, but she simply didn't want to watch.

The higher one stands, the farther one can see, and the less likely one is to be obscured by a single leaf.

Football people always like to adorn this sport with various laurels, such as dreams, passion, and glory. But from Boya's perspective, who also studied economics, things associated with these laurels fundamentally lack them. Football is a business, especially in Spain, where it is also a political business. Real Madrid, Barcelona, Athletic Bilbao, the Spanish, the Catalans, the Basques—no other country in Europe has such distinct ethnic colors in football. In this country where football is like a religion, it is not surprising that football becomes a political capital.

In Madrid, the only team with the right to be a capital is Real Madrid. Real Madrid has never taken its city rival, the team currently playing, seriously, even though most Madrileños are fans of this team. This can be seen in the attitudes of the two teams towards Barcelona: if Atletico Madrid plays Barcelona, Real Madrid will support Atletico, just as it supports any team that opposes Barcelona. But in reverse, Atletico can only support Barcelona. Therefore, whether Atletico wants to admit it or not, the team's claims of resistance and freedom are just a beautiful wish.

Royal is royal. Athletic is athletic. This is no longer about sports, but about bloodline.

Boya lowered her gaze again.

---

The game had entered the last fifteen minutes of the second half.

Munoz finally lost patience with Atletico Madrid's slow and steady pace. He sent all the attacking players on the bench to warm up and, in less than ten minutes, used all three of his substitutions at a rate of one every three minutes.

At this point, Huelva had four forwards on the field.

Lin Sen had completely forgotten about inviting three people to watch the game. He looked at the colors above the heads of the three players Munoz sent on and couldn't help but laugh: not a single green.

To score, send on forwards. Munoz's intentions were as clear as his emotions, and this was indeed the most direct adjustment. Munoz not only had a name similar to Mourinho but also seemed to have learned his tactics. However, Mourinho's gambles were based on the ability to suppress the opponent, while Munoz's approach was more like a suicide attack. Last season, Huelva's former coach Marcelino forced the team to an eighth-place finish through defense, but it wasn't just about defense; it also had a direct and concise attack. Now, with half the attack gone and even the last line of defense abandoned, Munoz had no choice.

Lin Sen didn't take the bait. His strategy was to remain unchanged. Atletico Madrid had the advantage in both score and play. If Munoz's substitutes had included a few green players, he might have been more cautious, but now, he could only repeat what he had said a few days ago.

Huelva, prepare to die.

Fortunately, Lin Sen didn't experience the joy turning to sorrow. Soon, Atletico Madrid scored their second goal.

A simple counterattack: center-back Pablo, midfielder Luis Garcia, and forward Forlan. Three players, three passes, from their own penalty area to the opponent's, and Forlan appeared in front of Huelva's goalkeeper Rague, who felt as helpless and innocent as a weak girl cornered by a criminal.

A goalkeeper without confidence, and a one-on-one save became a formality.

2-0. Atletico Madrid secured the win.

At this moment, Lin Sen finally walked to his bench, and soon, three people appeared neatly on the sidelines, chatting with the fourth official as they waited to enter the game.

One was the under-17 player Koke.

One was the 18-year-old De Gea.

The last was the struggling and returning Aguero.

The Calderon Stadium erupted in applause.