133: Final Shot

“But the real battle has only just begun.”

He walked to the tactics board and drew arrows on it with a red pen.

“For the first fifteen minutes, we will continue to execute defensive tactics. Let them continue to attack and continue to expend their physical energy.”

Vardy looked up, sweat still dripping from his forehead.

“Boss, when do we start our counterattack?”

Old John looked at the young striker, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes.

“After the fifteenth minute, Jamie. That’s when it’s your and Kyle’s turn to perform.”

Walker stood up from his seat, stretching his somewhat stiff legs.

“We are ready.”

Meanwhile, Sunderland’s changing room presented a different scene.

Roy Keane paced back and forth in the cramped space.

Each step was heavy, and the floor creaked.

“This is impossible!”

His voice became sharp with anger.

“They are just a League One team! How can we not deal with them?!”

The Sunderland players hung their heads, no one daring to speak at this moment.

Captain Whitehead wanted to say something, but seeing Keane’s flushed face, he ultimately chose silence.

“In the second half, I want to see more pressing forward!”

Keane gestured wildly with his hands in the air.

“Even the defenders need to go up! We must overwhelm them with an absolute numerical advantage!”

Leadbitter secretly glanced at his teammates’ expressions.

Leadbitter secretly glanced at his teammates, everyone’s expression was very ugly. A Premier League team… We are a Premier League team, how can we be made so miserable by a League One team?

Facing a League One team, they were actually pushed into such a desperate situation.

Lin Feng’s prediction was once again validated.

Keane indeed demanded that the team strengthen their attack during halftime.

This impatient mood would expose larger gaps in Sunderland’s defense.

The whistle for the start of the second half echoed throughout Victoria Park.

Sunderland’s players rushed out of the changing room tunnel.

Determination was written on every face.

Keane’s tactical adjustments immediately showed results.

Sunderland’s attack was even more ferocious than in the first half.

Even the center-backs began to frequently push forward, participating in aerial duels within the penalty area.

Whitehead rushed into Hartlepool United’s penalty area for the first time.

His header was powerful, and Schmeichel had to exert great effort to tip the ball over the crossbar.

The corner kick was taken, leading to another scramble.

Jones, Leadbitter, and even goalkeeper Gordon rushed into the penalty area.

The ball bounced around in the crowd, each touch potentially changing the course of the game.

Shawcross blocked Richardson’s shot with his body.

The ball hit his thigh, and the intense pain made him clench his teeth.

But he did not fall, instead standing even more firmly in his position.

Nelson was also desperately clearing every dangerous ball.

Every header clearance he made was with all his strength.

Sweat mixed with rain streamed down his cheeks, but his gaze remained focused.

In the fifty-fifth minute, Sunderland had an excellent opportunity.

Chopra got a half-one-on-one chance on the right side of the penalty area.

His shot was tricky, heading straight for the top corner of the goal.

Schmeichel’s reaction was incredibly quick.

He dove to his bottom left, his fingertips barely touching the ball.

The ball changed direction, hitting the post with a crisp sound.

The hearts of all the spectators in the stadium stopped for a second.

“Schmeichel! It’s Schmeichel again!”

Martin Tyler’s voice was filled with surprise and admiration.

“This young Danish goalkeeper is simply unbeatable tonight!”

Lin Feng watched all of this quietly from the executive box.

The World-Class Club Development Platform constantly updated various data for Sunderland’s players.

Physical energy consumption: 78%

Psychological fluctuation index: Highly anxious

Success rate of technical actions: Continuously declining

Every number confirmed his judgment.

The sponge had absorbed enough water; now it was time to squeeze it.

In the sixty-second minute, Hartlepool United’s formation began to subtly change.

Vardy’s position was more advanced.

Walker’s positioning on the right wing was also more aggressive.

These subtle adjustments did not escape Lin Feng’s keen observation.

But Sunderland’s players were still immersed in the excitement of their surging offense.

They did not notice their opponent’s changes, still charging forward frantically.

In the sixty-eighth minute, the opportunity finally arrived.

Sunderland’s corner kick attack was very threatening.

Jones made a beautiful flick-on at the near post.

The ball flew towards the far post, and Chopra leaped high.

But Schmeichel’s positioning was very accurate.

He calmly caught the ball in his arms, not giving the opponent any chance for a second attack.

The crucial moment had arrived.

Schmeichel did not hesitate for a moment.

He glanced at Vardy’s position in the attacking third, a clear target already in his mind.

A powerful throw!

The ball arced in a long curve through the air.

It crossed more than half the pitch, accurately finding Vardy, who was waiting in the attacking third.

“The sponge is starting to squeeze out water!”

Lin Feng murmured in his heart.

The moment Vardy received the ball, Sunderland’s defense had only two players left.

One was a center-back, and the other was a full-back rushing back to cover.

This was the opportunity Lin Feng had been waiting for.

Vardy did not hesitate at all.

He sprinted with the ball, each step firm and powerful.

Run! Only this one word remained in Vardy’s mind.

He couldn’t feel the soreness in his thighs, nor could he hear the footsteps of the defenders behind him; he only saw the path to the goal.

In this moment, there was only him, the ball, and the goal ahead.

Sunderland’s center-back desperately shifted sideways, trying to block Vardy’s shooting angle.

The full-back was also frantically chasing back, hoping to make an interception at the last moment.

But Vardy’s speed was too fast.

More importantly, he maintained a calm mind.

Just when everyone thought he would shoot directly, Vardy made an unexpected choice.

He glanced to his right.

Kyle Walker was surging forward at high speed from the right wing.

The young full-back’s speed was faster than Sunderland’s chasing players.

Vardy chose to pass without hesitation.

A diagonal pass, the ball accurately rolled into Walker’s running path.

When Walker received the ball, he was already one-on-one with the goalkeeper.

But the angle was very tight, almost hugging the byline.

Goalkeeper Gordon quickly adjusted his position, blocking the near post.

The fans in the stands held their breath.

Everyone thought Walker would choose to shoot.

But this young full-back showed a calmness beyond his years.

He saw Vardy making a run in the center.

A square pass!

The ball rolled quickly inside the penalty area.

Gordon’s weight was already shifted towards the near post, and it was too late to adjust now.

Vardy arrived in time.

Facing an open goal.

A tap-in!

One-nil!

Victoria Park instantly erupted into a frenzy.

Nearly ten thousand home fans simultaneously leaped from their seats.

Their cheers merged into a massive wave of sound.

As if to tear off the stadium’s roof.

“Goal! Goal! Goal!”

Every shout carried pure jubilation.

This was not just a goal, but a historic breakthrough.

They witnessed the miracle of a League One team defeating a Premier League giant.

Vardy excitedly ran towards the sidelines.

He spread his arms, basking in the fervent adoration from the stands.

Walker, Henderson, Schmeichel, all his teammates rushed over.

They embraced tightly, incredible excitement written on everyone’s faces.

Old John waved his fists on the sidelines.

This Scottish old man showed such Excited emotions for the first time.

He knew that this goal would change many things.

Not just the outcome of this match, but also the confidence and standing of the entire team.

However, in front of the away team’s dugout, Roy Keane’s expression was completely different.

He furiously kicked over a water bottle at his feet.

The bottle tumbled on the grass, spilling its water everywhere.

Keane’s face turned a purplish red with anger.

As a legendary player who had never given up in his professional career, this feeling of being humiliated by a League One team was unacceptable to him.

“This is impossible! This is absolutely impossible!”

He roared at the fourth official.

“How can they run so fast?!”

But reality was so cruel.

Hartlepool United not only ran fast but also played intelligently.

Lin Feng’s tactical setup was perfectly demonstrated at this moment.

This was the essence of the sponge tactic.

First, absorb all of the opponent’s impact, draining their physical energy and patience.

Then, at the most critical moment, deliver a fatal blow with the fastest counterattack.

There were still over twenty minutes left in the match.

Sunderland had to equalize in the remaining time, otherwise they would face the humiliation of being eliminated by a League One team.

Keane immediately made substitutions.

He replaced two defensive players with two attackers.

This was a do-or-die choice, and his last gamble.

Sunderland’s offense became even more frantic.

They almost threw everyone forward, even the goalkeeper began to frequently participate in set-piece attacks in the attacking third.

But Hartlepool United’s defense became more composed.

The one-goal lead gave them a psychological advantage.

Every successful defense would elicit cheers from the crowd.

Every time a danger was averted, the atmosphere would become even more heated.

In the eighty-third minute, Sunderland earned a dangerous free-kick.

The position was just outside the penalty area, only twenty meters from the goal.

Leadbitter stood over the ball; his free-kick technique was well-known even in the Premier League.

The entire stadium held its breath.

This might be Sunderland’s last chance.

Leadbitter took a run-up and struck the ball!

The ball flew over the wall, heading straight for the top left corner of the goal.

Schmeichel’s reaction was still agile.

He made a diving save, his fingertips touching the ball.

The ball slightly changed direction, hit the crossbar, and bounced out.

“Schmeichel! It’s Schmeichel again!”

The commentator’s voice was a little hoarse.

“This young goalkeeper is simply a god-like presence tonight!”

Time was ticking away, minute by minute.

Sunderland’s players became increasingly anxious.

Their passes started to go astray, and their positioning became chaotic.

This, in turn, gave Hartlepool United more opportunities for counterattacks.

In the ninetieth minute, the referee raised the indicator board.

Stoppage time: three minutes.

For Sunderland, these were the final three minutes.

For Hartlepool United, they only needed to hold on for another one hundred and eighty seconds.

Keane frantically gestured to his players on the sidelines.

But at this point, Sunderland had lost all organization.

Their attacks turned into blind long balls and crosses.

Completely lacking the tactical and technical quality expected of a Premier League team.

In the ninety-second minute, Hartlepool United even had a chance for a counterattack.

Vardy dribbled the ball into Sunderland’s half.

But he chose not to risk a shot, instead passing the ball towards the corner flag.

This was the smartest choice.

Run down the clock, maintain the lead.

The referee looked at his watch.

Time was up.

The final whistle blew!

Victoria Park went completely wild.

Nearly ten thousand fans simultaneously poured onto the pitch.

They raised their hands and sang loudly.

This was their victory, the glory of this city.

Hartlepool United, thanks to Vardy’s decisive goal, eliminated local rivals Sunderland 1-0 at home.

Another Premier League team fell at their feet.

This was not just a victory, but a miracle.

A League One team successively eliminating Premier League opponents is an extremely rare occurrence in English football history.

The players embraced tightly on the field.

Tears streamed down everyone’s faces, but they were tears of joy.

They had made history and realized their dreams.

Old John was tossed high into the air by his players.

The Scottish old man waved his fists in the air.

At this moment, he was the hero of the entire team.

At the post-match press conference, Old John appeared unusually calm.

Facing the swarming reporters, he quoted words Lin Feng had prepared in advance.

“Roy Keane is a great warrior, and we all respect him.”

Old John’s voice was steady and powerful.

“But sometimes, winning a war doesn’t just rely on charging.”

This sentence quickly spread throughout England.

It became the most classic summary of the match.

It was not just a response to Sunderland, but also a reflection on the entire philosophy of football.

Sometimes, wisdom is more important than brute force.

Sometimes, strategy is more effective than passion.

Lin Feng watched the live broadcast on TV in his office.

The World-Class Club Development Platform sent a victory notification.

“Congratulations, Host, for successfully completing the mission: Eliminate Premier League team Sunderland.”

“Reward: Tactical Experience +500, Player Potential Boost Voucher × 2.”

“Special Reward: Unlocked Advanced Tactical Module 'Psychological Warfare Expert'.”

But Lin Feng’s attention was not focused on the system rewards.

His phone vibrated slightly on the desk.

He picked it up and saw it was a text message.

From Keira Knightley.

The content was simple, but profound.

“Well played, Mr. Chess Player. Now, I’m more curious if you’re as good at 'checkmating' off the chessboard.”

Lin Feng looked at the text message, a smile playing on his lips.

It seemed that tonight’s victory not only shook the football world.

It also attracted some more interesting “spectators.”

He did not reply immediately.

Instead, he put his phone back on the desk and continued to watch the celebration on TV.

For Lin Feng, this victory was just the beginning.

The real game had only just begun.