England's Greatest

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Hearing Tristan's urgent call, Mahrez sprinted over, a puzzled look etched across his face.

"Tristan, what's wrong?" he asked, glancing around as if expecting an opponent to leap out from behind him.

"That number 21 was staring at me so hard that I couldn't turn around. I have an idea," Tristan replied, lowering his voice and covering his mouth with his hands, as if sharing a secret.

He quickly laid out his plan, eyes glinting with excitement. "When I retreat to get the ball, you should shift to the middle position and look for an opening. Once I make my turn or pass it in midfield, I'll rush to the right, and we can switch."

Mahrez nodded, the gears in his mind turning as he listened intently. "Right, I see where you're going with this."

"The beauty of this is your dribbling skills. Matic is tough, but if you can take him on, even if you can't get past him, you can still act as a transitional player. Pass the ball to me on the right side," Tristan explained, his voice gaining confidence. "This way, we can dodge Matic's press and create a clear path for a through ball or cross to Vardy up front."

The excitement in his voice was palpable, and Mahrez's eyes sparkled with understanding. "I like it! If we can create enough space for ourselves, we can exploit their defense and get a goal."

Convincing Mahrez was a breeze. He quickly darted to the sidelines, eager to share their strategy with head coach Pearson.

When Pearson heard that Tristan had devised a plan to counter Matic's pressure in such a short time, surprise flickered across his face, followed by a swell of admiration. Is this kid really only eighteen? he thought.

Tristan's ability to adapt his play style to the evolving dynamics on the field was impressive. In a game where many young players simply followed the head coach's instructions or relied on instinct, Tristan stood out. He exhibited a rare combination of situational awareness and tactical intelligence, traits usually found in seasoned players.

Pearson couldn't help but nod in approval. "Your idea is solid, Tristan. Give it a go!" he encouraged, feeling a surge of confidence in his young midfielder.

Despite having laid out strict tactics and offensive routines before the match, Pearson understood that players must occasionally adjust their strategies in response to the flow of the game. After all, even the most detailed game plan needs the intuition and insight of eleven players on the pitch to bring it to life.

As the Chelsea players finished their celebration, the whistle blew, and the game resumed. This time, Chelsea adopted a more measured approach, easing off their earlier high-pressing tactics and advancing slowly, maintaining their formation.

From the sidelines, Pearson and on the pitch, Tristan quickly discerned Mourinho's tactical scheme.

"After scoring, you start parking the bus? Classic Mourinho!" Tristan thought, a mixture of admiration and frustration bubbling inside him. Chelsea's aggressive start made sense now—it was all about seizing the initiative.

The move caught Leicester City's coaches and players off guard, yet it was undeniably effective. With Chelsea having taken the first step, it was time for Leicester to respond.

After a series of quick passes, the ball found its way to Leicester midfielder Andy King. Observing the play unfold, Tristan, who had been stationed in front of Matic, retreated to the center circle, ready to offer support.

Matic reacted instinctively, stepping forward only to halt as Tristan moved away from him. With a knowing smile, Tristan glanced back, pleased to see that Matic remained tethered to his position, guarding the space in front of Chelsea's center-backs.

"In that case, I won't be polite," he thought, receiving the ball and turning with purpose. He threaded a precise pass forward, the ball rolling smoothly across the grass to Mahrez, who was poised in the middle, preparing to receive it.

As Mahrez turned to collect the ball, Matic closed in swiftly. Though tall and not the fastest, Matic's exceptional coverage and interception skills were formidable. Mahrez felt the weight of Matic pressing against him, a solid wall he couldn't ignore.

"Damn, this is tough!" he muttered under his breath, determined not to lose his footing.

But Mahrez was ready. With a deft touch, he nudged the ball into the open space on the right. Tristan, anticipating the move, dashed into position at the perfect moment.

With that, they executed their positional swap seamlessly: Mahrez took on the role of attacking midfielder, and Tristan burst forth as the right winger, their eyes now set on breaking through Chelsea's defense.

Seeing the space open up around him, Tristan didn't hesitate; he drove the ball toward the sideline. His heart raced as he faced the formidable figure of Ashley Cole, the bronze-skinned former world-class left-back.

Cole had earned his reputation through sheer talent—an exceptional athlete known for his fitness, speed, and explosive power. The media had once crowned him the best left-back in the world. During his time at Arsenal, he was a key player in their historic unbeaten season, helping secure the title in a spectacular fashion. Since joining Chelsea, he had continued his legacy, contributing to the team's numerous triumphs, including the FA Cup, League Cup, Premier League, and Champions League.

With his consistent, top-notch performances, Cole had secured multiple selections to the Premier League's Team of the Season and even claimed the prestigious title of "England Footballer of the Year." However, much of the public's intrigue revolved around his high-profile relationship with Cheryl, a member of the famous girl group Girls Aloud and a stunning judge on the hit British talent show "X Factor." Their romance had been a media sensation, capturing the imagination of fans and tabloids alike.

Tristan, even in his previous life, had followed their love story, often amused by the captivating articles penned by a certain tabloid writer.

Focus, Tristan, he reminded himself, shaking off the distracting thoughts. He locked his gaze on Ashley Cole, ready to confront the challenge ahead.

At this moment, Tristan's focus shifted to how he could exploit Ashley Cole's vulnerabilities. Once hailed as the team's main left-back, Cole had seen a significant decline this season, plagued by age and off-field issues that affected his performance. The once-dominant defender had lost his place to the impressive Spaniard, Azpilicueta, resulting in reduced playing time.

Despite Cole's reputation, Tristan knew he couldn't rely solely on his dribbling skills to get past the seasoned defender. Instead, he quickly passed the ball back to Mahrez, who had moved into position to receive it.

They executed a series of quick passes and cuts on the wing, and as they worked together, Tristan noted the glaring difference in Cole's defensive speed compared to the legend he once was. This was the "breakthrough" Pearson had emphasized before the match—Cole's age had diminished his ability to keep up with the game.

Tristan felt a surge of confidence as he assessed the situation. Recognizing Cole's slower turning speed, he leaned closer to Mahrez and whispered, "When you face Ashley, don't hesitate. Just pass him!"

With that, they were ready to take advantage of the openings in Chelsea's defense.

As the saying goes, "When the moment opens up, you have to take your shot." Once the opportunity presents itself, it must be seized.

Once Mahrez breaks through, there is a large penalty area behind him. Chelsea's two players, David Luiz and Cahill, are both slow types and couldn't make up for the deficit quickly. Even if the central defender comes to defend, there will be space in the middle for forward penetration. At that time, Mahrez only needs to knock the ball across the middle, and the Leicester City players who come in from behind can make a shot!

"Mahrez is on the move!" the commentator calls out, sensing the shift in momentum. "If he gets past Cole, this could be dangerous for Chelsea!"

Therefore, even if he was called for a foul, Ashley Cole felt it was worth it. This was clearly a tactical foul. The referee blows his whistle, and Cole stands with his hands on his hips, showing no signs of remorse.

"That was a smart foul by Cole," the commentator explains. "He knows the risk of allowing Mahrez a clear path to the goal."

At this time, Tristan also came to Mahrez's side. "Riad, are you okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Fine," Mahrez replied, brushing off the grass. His expression turned slightly regretful as he added, "What a shame, it almost came to pass."

Tristan nodded, maintaining a positive demeanor. "It's okay, at least we created chances. We can build on this."

The two players had cooperated well on the right side this time, creating a significant opportunity. Although they did not completely break through Chelsea's left defense, they still won Leicester City a valuable free kick in the right area in front of the penalty area.

"Leicester City has earned a free kick in a promising position," the commentator noted, excitement in his voice. "It's about 30 meters away from goal—too far for a direct shot, but ripe for creativity."

"Let's see how Leicester City handles this," another commentator added, hinting at the anticipation in the air.

Before the game, Tristan had been assigned by head coach Pearson as the first free kick taker. It was a significant responsibility for someone so new to the first team.

He glanced at the three-man wall composed of Lampard, Oscar, and Torres. Tristan leaned close to Mahrez's ear and whispered, "You ready for this? We can catch them off guard."

"Absolutely! Let's make this count," Mahrez replied, determination shining in his eyes. The two positioned themselves on either side of the ball, ready to create something special.

Seeing this, the commentators couldn't help but discuss the strategic possibilities. "No. 22 Tristan and No. 26 Mahrez are both standing in front of the ball. With one right foot and one left foot, who's going to take it?"

"I bet Tristan will take the shot. He's shown great passing skills in recent matches."

"True, but don't count Mahrez out! His left foot could deliver a wicked curveball," the other commentator countered. "Let's wait and see how this unfolds."

In a situation where dense defenses made it hard to penetrate, long shots and set pieces were crucial for threatening the opponent's goal. Given Chelsea's formidable backline, breaking through would not be easy. That's why, in the past week's training, Pearson had emphasized set-piece offensive tactics.

"Remember, focus on placement!" Pearson had reminded them during practice. "Whether it's a low cross or a high arc, you need to exploit the gaps."

Tristan's passing accuracy had impressed his teammates, earning him their trust as the free kick taker. The other players accepted the decision wholeheartedly.

In the world of football, it was clear that respect and privileges came to those who proved themselves. "Let's see who will take the free kick; since he made his deput, he has not let the team down, can he make the difference here."

That's what separates the ordinary from the extraordinary," the commentator added. 

"Later, you just raise your left hand to remind them that the ball will go back," Tristan instructed, his tone serious.

"Then you pretend to take the penalty kick." He covered his mouth with his hand, discussing the free kick strategy with Mahrez. This tactic of covering their mouths was a clever way for players to prevent lip-reading experts from interpreting their plans.

As Leicester's two central defenders, captain Morgan and young player Moore, positioned themselves in the penalty area, ready to compete for headers, the atmosphere grew tense. Chelsea coach Mourinho could hardly remain seated on the sidelines.

"Come on, boys! Focus!" he barked, aware of the looming threat. After analyzing Leicester City's past games, he had been particularly impressed by Tristan's passing skills and recognized that this set piece could be a pivotal moment.

"Everyone, keep an eye on your marks! Cheer up!" he called out, directing his players as they lined up against the set piece.

With the tension rising, referee Paul Tierney raised his whistle to his lips. The sound echoed across the King Power Stadium, signaling that Tristan could serve. Mahrez, stationed to the right of the ball, raised his left hand—a signal to his teammates that the play was about to unfold.

The Leicester players understood the tactical gesture. Mahrez then put on a serious expression, as if preparing to take the free kick, and rushed toward the ball! But at the moment he was close enough to strike, his left leg swung past it without making contact.

"Look at that feint!" the commentator exclaimed. "Mahrez has pulled a fast one on the Chelsea defense!"

As Mahrez pretended to kick, several Chelsea players were drawn in by the distraction. "Wait, what's he doing?" one of them shouted, confusion spreading through their ranks.

In that split second, Tristan rushed forward! Mahrez's feint was just a cover; the true taker was Tristan himself. He planted his left foot firmly beside the ball and swung his right leg back, preparing for the shot.

"Here we go!" the commentator shouted, excitement building. "Tristan's going to take it!"

With a precise strike, he struck the ball with the inside of his foot. A perfect inward arc erupted into the air, soaring above the stadium! The crowd held its breath as the ball spun fiercely, heading straight for the penalty area.

"Look out!" the commentator warned, as Chelsea's Brazilian center-back David Luiz leaped into the air, calling out, "Mine!"

But as he reached his peak, surprise washed over his face. "No way!" he exclaimed, realizing he had miscalculated his jump and was too far from the ball!

"Unbelievable!" the commentator cried. "David Luiz jumped too early!"

The ball zipped over David Luiz's head, evading several other Chelsea players who were equally caught off guard. At the back post, young player Moore lay in wait, perfectly positioned.

With explosive power, he leaped from his spot, legs coiling like springs. "Here it comes!" he yelled, determination shining in his eyes as he met the ball with his forehead.

With a resounding "bang," the ball transformed into a black shadow, hurtling toward the goal! The 42-year-old legendary goalkeeper Schwarzer, known for his reflexes, was quick but not as sharp as he once was.

"Oh no!" the commentator lamented. "Schwarzer's not going to get there in time!"

Despite his best effort to reach out and block the shot, it was too late. The ball flew past his palm, striking the back of the net with a deafening thud!

"Goal!!!" the commentator exploded with excitement.

"Leicester City Equalizes!"

In an instant, the King Power Stadium erupted in cheers, the noise drowning out all other sounds. Fans leaped to their feet, celebrating the moment as their team capitalized on the tactical brilliance and teamwork displayed.

...

[ Swear to god, this story started making me hate Beckham, this chinese author fucking glazes him like every chance he gets like Beckham is Messi or Ronaldo. Like bro your main character is already better than him in his first season in the Premier League with Kevin's vision and passing. I had to delete and rewrite so many scenes of him just sucking off Beckham ]