119: The "truth" of victory and the "loneliness" behind the scenes

The echoes of laughter still lingered in the player's tunnel, but Sophie Green didn't rush towards the locker room like the other reporters.

She stood quietly at the other end of the tunnel, waiting for the figure who always left last.

Lin Feng walked down from the VIP box, his face devoid of the joy a victor should possess.

His expression was unusually calm, as if the just-concluded match wasn't a crucial game, but a routine business meeting.

Sophie went up to him, her voice recorder already prepared.

"Mr. Lin."

Her voice was exceptionally clear in the empty tunnel.

Lin Feng stopped, turned, and looked at her. There was no excitement of victory in his deep eyes, but rather a hint of fatigue.

"Sophie, not off work yet?"

His tone was gentle, but Sophie noticed that he leaned back slightly, a subconscious defensive posture.

"I'd like to ask you a question."

Sophie looked directly into his eyes.

"A question that might be a bit personal."

Lin Feng raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.

"You just led the team to an important victory, defeating Swansea City, known as the 'Wales Barcelona'. All of Hartlepool is cheering for you. But..."

Sophie paused, organizing her words.

"I want to know, what does victory truly taste like to you?"

This question made Lin Feng freeze for a moment.

Lin Feng was silent for a few seconds, seemingly re-evaluating the reporter in front of him. He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, "That's not a question a sports reporter would ask."

Lin Feng pondered for a moment, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.

"Do you think a chess player, at the moment of checkmating an opponent, feels joy, or the tranquility of having completed a work?"

This counter-question stunned Sophie.

She had expected a standard answer about the excitement and sense of accomplishment of victory. But Lin Feng gave her another question instead.

"I..."

Sophie tried to answer, but found herself lost in thought.

Lin Feng looked at her confused expression and continued, "Victory is just the result; what I enjoy more is the process of the layout.

Watching every piece move to the correct position at the correct time, that sense of control fascinates me more than victory itself."

His voice was soft, yet it made Sophie feel an inexplicable dryness in her mouth, and the presence of the voice recorder felt superfluous.

It was the first time she had experienced this man's way of thinking so intimately. He wasn't enjoying victory; he was enjoying the process of creating victory.

"Just like today's match."

Lin Feng gestured towards the stadium behind him.

"Martínez is an excellent coach, and his team is also outstanding.

But when I saw their tactical deployment in the first half, I knew that unleashing Gylfi's individual ability in the second half would completely break the balance."

"This feeling of a prediction becoming reality satisfies me more than hearing the cheers after a goal."

Sophie's notebook recorded these words, but her attention was completely drawn to Lin Feng's gaze.

There was a contradictory light in those eyes, like a volcano beneath the deep sea, cold and calm on the surface, but with magma surging deep within.

"If you really want to understand my 'true feelings'."

Lin Feng looked at her, extending an invitation.

"Come to the Phoenix Training Center tomorrow morning. I'll show you how a chess game is conceived before it even begins."

This invitation came so suddenly that Sophie could hardly believe her ears.

Lin Feng never allowed the media deep insight into his work process; this was a fact known throughout English football.

"Are you sure?"

She asked cautiously.

Lin Feng nodded.

"But only the non-core parts. I want to show you how what the outside world considers 'magic' is actually composed of countless hours of analysis and deduction."

The next morning, Sophie arrived at the Phoenix Training Center as arranged.

The autumn sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the tactical analysis room, casting dappled light on the white tactics board.

Lin Feng stood in front of a large display screen, which showed densely packed data charts.

Old John and Richard Arnold sat at the conference table, listening intently to Lin Feng's analysis.

"Oldham Athletic."

Lin Feng pointed to the team formation diagram on the screen.

"A typical English long-ball, direct-play style. Their forwards have an average height of 1.85 meters and are good at winning aerial balls. The midfield lacks technical skill but is active in running and covers a large area."

Sophie was seated in a chair in the corner, trying not to make a sound. But her eyes were fixed on Lin Feng, trying to understand how this man worked.

Lin Feng drew a few lines on the tactics board.

"Their weakness lies in their slow turning speed, especially the two center-backs. Once we can successfully draw them forward, the space behind them will be Vardy's paradise."

Old John nodded.

"So, what's our tactical approach?"

Lin Feng didn't answer immediately, but instead drew a complex diagram on the tactics board.

"I call it the 'Swamp Trap'."

He used a red marker to highlight several key areas.

"Deliberately slow down the tempo in midfield, let the ball stay at our feet for a few more seconds. Entice them to press high, giving them the illusion that they can win the ball."

"And then?"

Arnold asked.

"Then, exploit their slow turning speed by playing quick ground through-balls in behind them."

Lin Feng drew several arrows on the tactics board.

"The key is timing. Too early, they haven't fully pushed forward. Too late, they might realize our intention."

Sophie, in the corner, watched Lin Feng calmly analyze every weakness of the opponent on the tactics board, preparing contingency plans for every possible situation.

It was the first time she had so directly understood what Lin Feng meant by "layout."

This wasn't simple tactical arrangement, but a precise design for a psychological battle. He wasn't just analyzing the opponent's technical and tactical characteristics; he was also studying the opponent's psychological patterns and behavioral habits.

"What if they don't fall for it in the first half?"

Old John posed a hypothetical question.

Lin Feng walked to another tactics board and began to draw new diagrams.

"Plan B. If they remain patient and don't press easily, we'll switch to wing breakthroughs. Walker and Robson will make simultaneous runs forward, creating a numerical advantage on the flanks."

"What about Plan C?"

Arnold continued to ask.

"If the flanks are also restricted, then it's Sigurdsson's time to shine."

Lin Feng drew a circle in the center of the tactics board.

"Let him play freely in this area, threatening their goal with long shots and through-balls."

The meeting lasted nearly two hours.

Sophie witnessed how Lin Feng dissected a seemingly simple football match into countless variables and possibilities.

Every situation had a corresponding solution, and every player had clear task instructions.

At this moment, the labels of "genius" and "magic" quietly peeled away in Sophie's mind.

It turned out that every victory had already been paid for by this man with time and effort on the tactics board.

Those seemingly spontaneous tactical adjustments were actually carefully considered choices.

After the meeting, Old John and Arnold left the room.

Lin Feng stayed behind with Sophie alone.

He walked to the empty tactics board, standing with his back to her. The only sounds in the room were the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant faint shouts from the Phoenix Training Center.

"This is my true feeling."

Lin Feng's voice echoed in the empty room.

"Before the cheers erupt, there is only endless deduction and solitary contemplation here. Victory is just the best reward for this solitude."

Sophie's pen stopped on the paper, no longer recording.

She suddenly understood that Lin Feng's battlefield was not only on the green pitch but also in this empty tactics room. Every victory was a medal he exchanged for solitude.

"Don't you feel too tired doing this?"

Sophie asked softly.

Lin Feng turned around, the curve of his lips light, as if in self-mockery, or perhaps savoring a memory, "Tired?"

He shook his head.

"This is the path I chose. And..."

He paused, looking towards the Phoenix Training Center.

"When you see Vardy score, when you hear the fans' cheers, when you know the entire city is celebrating because of your decisions, you'll find that it's all worth it."

These words deeply moved Sophie.

She felt she had caught a glimpse of the man's softness and authenticity beneath his strong exterior. He wasn't a cold calculating machine, but a person of flesh and blood. A person who carried the hopes of countless people, yet had to face all the pressure alone.

She looked at Lin Feng, suddenly wanting to do something for this man, though she didn't know what exactly.

Back at the newspaper office, Sophie sat in front of her computer for a long time without writing.

Lin Feng's every word in the tactics room echoed in her mind, recalling his solitary figure with his back to the tactics board.

Finally, she wrote an in-depth profile titled "The Architect of Champions: The Lonely Man Who Controls the Game."

The article didn't contain excessive technical analysis or a heap of business data. She chose to present another side of Lin Feng as a "shadow coach" from a more human perspective.

The man who silently endured solitude behind every victory.

The article immediately caused a huge stir after its publication in the Hartlepool Mail.

Readers for the first time gained such close insight into how those seemingly miraculous tactical adjustments actually came from countless hours of analysis and deduction. The business magnate who always appeared in the media turned out to also have an unfathomable "tactical master" side.

More importantly, the article revealed Lin Feng's human side.

He was no longer an unattainable success story, but an ordinary person who silently dedicated himself to his goals.

The day after the article was published, Lin Feng was reviewing next week's training plan in his office.

His assistant knocked and entered, looking a bit nervous.

"Boss, our cybersecurity department has reported a situation."

Lin Feng looked up, motioning for him to continue.

"Last night, the club's official website server received several hacker attacks from overseas IPs. Although they were all successfully blocked by the firewall, the nature of the attacks was quite unusual."

"How so?"

Lin Feng put down the documents in his hand.

"It wasn't a typical malicious attack; it was more like systematic information gathering. Our technical staff traced the source of the attacks..."

The assistant paused.

"They pointed to London and Los Angeles, respectively."

Lin Feng's gaze deepened.

London and Los Angeles, these two locations reminded him of certain specific groups of people.

"Increase the security level."

He gave a brief instruction.

"At the same time, have the technical department re-encrypt all sensitive data."

"Yes, Boss."

After the assistant left, Lin Feng walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office.

He looked at the Phoenix Training Center in the distance, where players were conducting their daily training. Everything seemed so calm and normal.

But he knew that Sophie's article had pushed him onto a bigger stage.

Some people were starting to truly pay attention to him, the "shadow coach," and this attention might not all be benevolent.

Lin Feng's phone rang at that moment.

The caller ID showed an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Lin. I'm a producer from BBC Sport. We'd like to invite you to next week's 'Match of the Day' program to discuss the future prospects of League One."

Lin Feng politely declined the invitation.

But over the next hour, he received interview invitations from Sky Sports, The Sun, and several European media outlets.

Clearly, the impact of Sophie's article far exceeded his expectations.

In the evening, Lin Feng left his office, preparing to go home.

In the parking lot, he met several players who had just finished training.

"Boss!"

Vardy waved from a distance.

"I read today's newspaper, it was fantastic! Now all of England knows we have a genius boss!"

The other players also gathered around, excitedly discussing the article.

Lin Feng looked at the proud expressions on the young men's faces, and a warmth swelled in his heart.

Perhaps being noticed by more people wasn't entirely a bad thing.

At least, his players were proud of him.