115: The Beginning of the Frenzy and the Future of the Chess Game (Part 1)

The media's sense of smell is always sharper than anyone imagines.

Hartlepool United's 'false nine' victory, just hours after the first round of the EFL Trophy, began to stir up a considerable public opinion storm in English football.

The first to react was Sky Sports' tactical analysis segment.

The host, John Smith, repeatedly played the dazzling positional interplay between Tom Ince and Oliver Baker on his late-night show.

"This isn't football in the traditional sense."

Smith's tone was one of confusion, yet also excitement.

"Hartlepool United is interpreting the sport in a way we've never seen before. Look at this footage; the two so-called 'forwards' aren't even in forward positions. Their running trajectories completely subvert our understanding of positional football."

The screen froze on the moment Ince dropped back to receive the ball near the center circle.

"Then look here."

Smith switched to another angle, "The other six midfield players start simultaneously, their running routes seem precisely calculated, with each person appearing exactly in the opponent's weakest areas."

The phone rang; a viewer had called into the hotline.

"Mr. Smith, I'm a football coach, I've been coaching youth teams for fifteen years. Frankly, this style of play isn't new at the youth level, but to execute it so perfectly in a senior team match is truly impressive."

Smith nodded, "Do you think this tactic could work in higher-level Leagues?"

"Theoretically, yes, but it requires extremely high technical ability and understanding. Most critically, it requires players to completely abandon individual heroism, which is very difficult to achieve in professional football."

At the end of the show, Smith made a bold prediction.

"I have a feeling this match might change a lot of things. At the very least, it will make many coaches start to rethink what modern football is."

At 3 AM, Lin Feng's office was still brightly lit.

Not because he was working late, but because his phone kept ringing non-stop.

Football journalists from The Guardian wanted interviews, columnists from The Times hoped for in-depth discussions, and even BBC Sport sent an invitation.

But what surprised Lin Feng the most was an international call from Italy.

"Mr. Lin, I'm the Technical Director of Milan Lab."

The voice on the other end of the line had a strong Italian accent.

"We are very interested in the tactical system your team displayed tonight. I wonder if you have time to discuss the theoretical basis of this playing style in detail?"

Lin Feng politely declined.

It wasn't the right time yet.

He knew that revealing the core concepts of the system too early would only give other clubs the opportunity to copy and improve it.

Hartlepool United needed time, time to perfect this system before others even realized what was happening.

The next morning, the atmosphere at the Phoenix Training Center was a bit subtle.

The first-team regulars had just finished their morning training and were gathered in the dining hall for breakfast.

But today's topic was no longer last night's TV show or weekend shopping plans, but the performance of those 'little rascals'.

"I'm serious, Oliver's positional awareness is almost catching up to Gylfi's."

Henderson said, shaking his head in admiration while biting into his toast.

"And Tom, he's fifteen! When I was fifteen, I was still worrying about whether I'd make the school team's starting eleven."

Vardy put down his coffee cup, his expression somewhat complex.

"Gylfi, if you don't work harder, those little rascals are going to take our spots."

His words sounded like a joke, but everyone could hear the seriousness behind them.

Sigurdsson smiled wryly and shook his head.

"Do you think I'm not trying? After watching the match replay last night, I felt my own positioning was like an amateur. Those kids' understanding of space has surpassed many professional players."

Schmeichel walked by, heard the conversation, and couldn't help but interject.

"Do you know what's scariest?"

He sat down, his voice very low.

"I heard the boss plans to have them use this tactic in the League as well. Imagine if they could play at last night's level in League One..."

Everyone fell silent.

Only the faint clinking of cutlery remained in the dining hall; no one spoke, but the exchanged glances all conveyed the same thing: a sense of crisis.

Competition.

Unprecedented internal competition.

Old John pushed open the dining room door and saw the grim-faced stars, secretly amused.

He still remembered clearly what Lin Feng had said to him after the match last night.

"John, the best motivation isn't criticism, but example."

"Letting the main players see the excellent performance of the substitutes is more effective than any lecture."

Indeed, today's first-team training quality reached a new height.

Everyone was pushing themselves, no one wanted to be outdone by those 'little rascals'.

Vardy's sprint speed was five percent faster than usual, Sigurdsson's passing accuracy improved to a new level, and even the usually steady Schmeichel was attempting more daring forays.

After training, Old John found Lin Feng.

"Boss, the players' condition is better than ever."

On the other end of the phone, Lin Feng chuckled softly: "Excellent, John, the catfish are in the water."

"This is the effect I wanted. A truly strong team isn't built on one or two stars, but on an overall competitive atmosphere."

"Now, we need to prepare for the next step."

At 3 PM, a black Mercedes business van drove out of the town of Hartlepool, heading for Cambridge.

Inside the car was Northern Capital's investment team, led by Financial Director Sarah Wilson.

She held a thick research report, detailed information about the 'Sports Interactive Logic' studio.

This game studio, founded by five Cambridge University graduates, was developing a football manager game engine that was marked as an "A+ grade" investment target in Lin Feng's [Market Prediction] system.

"Boss, are you sure you want to acquire them completely?"

Sarah asked via speakerphone.

"Twelve million pounds for a game engine that doesn't even have a finished product yet, isn't that a bit risky?"

Lin Feng's voice came through the phone, still calm as water.

"Sarah, do you know how many times the sports game market will grow in the next ten years?"

"And, this isn't just a game."

Lin Feng paused, his tone carrying an excitement that only he could understand.

"The data simulation function of this engine can be fully applied to real football analysis. Imagine if we could build a database containing detailed information on every professional player in the world, tactical data for every match..."