171: The cry of "Champion"

The morning mist at Phoenix Training Center had not yet dissipated, but Lin Feng's office was already filled with newspapers from various major media outlets.

The front-page headline of The Guardian was particularly striking: “England’s Barcelona? Hartlepool United’s Technical Revolution.”

The Times used a more direct phrase: “Northern Miracle: League One Team Crushes Premier League Giant.”

Even The Sun, which usually disdained lower-tier Leagues, dedicated two full pages in its sports section to report on last night’s match.

Lin Feng put down the newspaper in his hand, his gaze sweeping across the training ground outside the window.

The players were undergoing recovery training, and each of their faces was beaming with the excitement brought by last night’s victory.

Vardy was sharing his two goals with his teammates, gesticulating wildly as he mimicked his shooting actions.

Henderson, meanwhile, was surrounded by a group of young players, eager to hear more details about how to contain Arteta.

This atmosphere caused Lin Feng’s brows to furrow slightly.

The joy of victory was understandable, but excessive indulgence in it was a dangerous sign.

He picked up the internal phone on his desk and dialed Old John’s number.

“John, ten minutes, meeting room.”

“Gather all first-team players.”

Old John’s voice came through the receiver, with a hint of confusion: “Boss, is there a problem?”

“No problem, precisely because there is no problem, that’s why there is a problem.”

Lin Feng hung up the phone and stood up to straighten his suit.

He knew that what he was about to do might make the players feel confused, or even dissatisfied.

But it had to be done.

Ten minutes later, the meeting room was full of players.

Each of their faces still carried the lingering excitement of last night’s victory, as they whispered to each other about the media reports.

Lin Feng walked into the meeting room, and the entire room instantly fell silent.

He did not sit down, but stood at one end of the conference table, his gaze sweeping over each player’s face.

“Gentlemen, I saw today’s newspapers.”

“The Guardian says we are England’s Barcelona.”

“The Times says we created a miracle.”

“The Sun even says we are already strong contenders for the championship.”

The smiles on the players’ faces grew even brighter.

To be praised so highly by these authoritative media outlets was something they, as players from lower-tier Leagues, could never have dreamed of.

But Lin Feng’s next words caused the temperature in the entire meeting room to drop sharply.

“Forget Everton.”

“Forget the championship.”

“Forget all these praises.”

Vardy’s smile froze on his face.

Henderson’s brows furrowed slightly.

The other players also showed confused expressions.

Lin Feng continued: “We now have only one goal, and that is the next match.”

“At home against Crewe.”

“Win this match, and we will equal the League record of 13 consecutive wins.”

He wrote a large “13” on the whiteboard.

“This is the longest winning streak record in England’s third-tier League.”

“The team that holds this record is Brentford from the 1999-2000 season.”

“For seven years, no team has been able to equal this record.”

“Now, we have the opportunity to become the second team to achieve this.”

The atmosphere in the meeting room began to change.

The players’ attention shifted from last night’s victory to the upcoming challenge.

13 consecutive wins, this number held immense appeal for any team.

It was not just a record, but also a symbol of honor.

Lin Feng saw the renewed fighting spirit in the players’ eyes and nodded with satisfaction.

“Crewe is not Everton; they don’t have Arteta, they don’t have Cahill.”

“But they have one thing that Everton doesn’t.”

“That is the motivation to break our record.”

“For Crewe, ending our winning streak will be their biggest achievement this season.”

“They will fight with all their might, using every means to stop us.”

Old John diligently recorded every word Lin Feng said on the side.

As a head coach, he deeply understood the importance of this psychological conditioning.

Last night’s victory had indeed made the players a bit complacent, and Lin Feng’s words were a timely reminder.

“So, from now on, I don’t want to hear any more discussions about Everton.”

“I don’t want to see anyone dwelling on last night’s glory.”

“What we need to do is focus on the next match.”

“Focus on that 13.”

Lin Feng’s voice grew stronger, every word striking the players’ hearts.

“Remember, records are meant to be broken, not to be looked up to.”

“We are not here to equal records; we are here to create new records.”

“13 is just the beginning; 14, 15, 16 are our goals.”

Warm applause erupted in the meeting room.

The players’ eyes became focused and determined again.

The restless emotions brought by last night’s victory were completely cleared, replaced by a craving for new challenges.

After the meeting, the players left one after another.

Lin Feng kept Old John behind.

“John, for the next few days of training, I want you to emphasize two aspects.”

“First, psychological conditioning. Make the players understand that every match starts from zero.”

“Second, tactical discipline. Crewe will study our match against Everton, and they will have targeted deployments.”

Old John nodded: “I understand, Boss. What about the specific tactical arrangements?”

“Still 4-3-3, but I want you to incorporate more variations into the training.”

“Familiarize the players with positional adjustments in different situations.”

“Crewe might set up a defensive wall, or they might choose to attack.”

“We need to be prepared to deal with all kinds of situations.”

Lin Feng walked to the window, watching the players sweating on the training ground.

The talent and potential of these young people were top-notch, but their experience and mental fortitude still needed time to be honed.

Last night’s victory was an important milestone, but it must not be a reason for them to stop.

In the afternoon, Lin Feng arrived at the Northern Capital office in the center of Hartlepool.

This was the command center of his business empire, and also his base for various investments and acquisitions.

Richard Arnold was waiting for his arrival.

A thick document lay on the table, with “StreamSport Ltd. Acquisition Agreement” written on the cover.

“Boss, everything has been completed according to your requirements.”

Richard’s face showed an excited expression.

“All shares of StreamSport company have been transferred to Northern Capital.”

“Including their technical team, copyright resources, and the streaming platform under development.”

Lin Feng opened the document and carefully reviewed the details of the acquisition.

StreamSport was a small company specializing in live video streaming of lower-tier Leagues.

Although not large in scale, they held exclusive online broadcasting rights for England’s third and fourth-tier Leagues.

More importantly, their technical team had rich experience in the field of streaming media.

“What was the acquisition price?”

“2.8 million pounds, including all technical assets and copyrights.”

“What about their debts?”

“All cleared; we are taking over a clean company.”

Lin Feng nodded with satisfaction.

This price was quite reasonable for the value of StreamSport.

More importantly, this acquisition laid the foundation for his next plan.

“Richard, I want you to immediately assemble a new project team.”

“Project codename: Northern Storm TV.”

“The goal is to build a global football content platform.”

Richard took out his notebook and diligently recorded Lin Feng’s every requirement.

“What will be the core content of the platform?”

“All matches, training, player interviews, and youth academy updates of Hartlepool United.”

“I want fans all over the world to be able to understand every detail of our club through this platform.”

“From first-team tactical analysis to youth team daily training.”

“From players’ personal lives to the club’s commercial operations.”