207: The coronation of the new king and the departure of the knights

Victoria Park was covered in a blanket of silver, with snowflakes falling like feathers onto the pitch. Fans in the stands stomped their feet, their breath dissipating into the cold wind. This North East Derby carried a significance far beyond the match itself.

Inside the locker room, Lin Feng faced the eager players. Owen, Viduka, Duff—these names shone brightly in the Premier League, but today, they were merely opponents.

“Newcastle thinks they’re the big brother of North East football,” Lin Feng’s voice echoed in the silence. “Today, let’s show them who truly owns this land.”

In the player’s tunnel, the two teams’ players brushed past each other. Owen scrutinized Vardy’s young face, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes. Viduka shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

Sophie was organizing her equipment in the media section, the diamond ring on her left ring finger sparkling under the lights. The cameraman’s lens inadvertently captured this scene, and the director immediately switched the feed.

“It looks like Hartlepool’s beautiful reporter has some good news to share,” Sky Sports commentator Martin Tyler quipped. “I wonder if this will affect her objective reporting.”

Lin Feng sat in the box, his phone screen displaying a text message from Keira. He didn’t reply, simply placing his phone face down on the table, focusing intently on the pitch.

The whistle blew, and snowflakes danced in the lights. Newcastle launched the first attack, with Viduka orchestrating from the middle, trying to control the tempo using his height advantage.

In the twelfth minute, Duff broke through Walker on the left wing, crossing to Owen at the far post. The England striker deftly flicked it in, and the ball found the back of the net. The away fans erupted in thunderous cheers, black and white scarves waving in the air.

“That’s experience!” The Newcastle manager shouted from the sidelines, pumping his fist. “Let these kids see what Premier League quality looks like!”

Old John frowned, turning to look at the box. Lin Feng’s expression remained calm; he tapped the table lightly, considering counter-strategies.

The halftime whistle blew, and the players trudged heavily towards the tunnel. The atmosphere in the locker room was somewhat subdued; the reality of being behind left the young players feeling frustrated.

“Listen.” Lin Feng pushed open the door, and all eyes immediately focused on him. “Their center-backs are all big guys, slow to turn, and a bit clumsy on the ball. Snodgrass, Walker, in the second half, cross the ball more from the wings.”

He walked to the tactics board and drew a few simple lines. “Vardy, run more, stretch their defense. Maloney is getting ready to come on; give them a different kind of impact.”

The second half restarted, and Hartlepool’s tactical adjustments immediately paid off. Snodgrass frequently got on the ball, his left-footed crosses precise and powerful. Walker on the right wing also began to show his speed advantage, delivering several crosses from the byline.

In the sixtieth minute, De Bruyne distributed the ball in the middle. Snodgrass received it and, without hesitation, directly delivered a cross. The ball arced perfectly, and the Newcastle defender misjudged it.

Vardy leaped high amidst the crowd, heading the ball powerfully. Goalkeeper Harper couldn’t save it, and the ball flew into the net. Victoria Park instantly erupted.

“Oh my goodness! Vardy’s header!” The commentator yelled, his voice hoarse. “This short striker actually beat Newcastle’s tall defenders in the air!”

The equalizer ignited the home team’s morale. Henderson in midfield tackled like a mad dog, putting his all into every challenge. Coutinho began to display his Brazilian technique on the wing, his continuous dribbling giving the opponents a headache.

In the eighty-fifth minute, Old John made a crucial substitution. Maloney replaced the slightly fatigued De Bruyne, and the Scot’s entrance injected fresh blood into the team.

Time ticked by, minute by minute, with both sides searching for a decisive blow. In the eighty-eighth minute, the opportunity arrived.

Henderson intercepted the ball in the middle and quickly passed it to Coutinho on the wing. The young Brazilian consecutively dribbled past two defenders, then, after entering the box, laid it off across the middle.

The penalty area was a chaotic scramble, with players vying for the ball. Maloney squeezed out space in the crowd and, meeting the incoming ball, struck it fiercely. The goalkeeper had no reaction, and the ball roared into the bottom right corner of the goal.

The entire stadium exploded instantly. Fans embraced wildly, streamers and scarves flying everywhere. Maloney ran towards the corner flag, his teammates swarming him.

“A last-minute winner! A last-minute winner! Maloney’s goal gives Hartlepool a 2-1 comeback victory over Newcastle!” The commentator’s voice began to tremble. “This miraculous team has created another miracle!”

The final whistle blew, and the home team players embraced tightly. Old John, on the sidelines, was moved to tears; the significance of this victory transcended the game itself.

In the post-match mixed zone, Vardy was surrounded by reporters. Sweat still glistened on his forehead, but his eyes were firm and confident.

“We showed what true North East spirit is,” he wiped the sweat from his face. “It’s not about fame, but about fighting.”

Sophie quickly took notes nearby, her ring occasionally flashing. She tried to maintain professionalism, but the pride in her heart was hard to conceal.

The subsequent matches became a showcase for Hartlepool United. On January 10th, away against Reading, De Bruyne scored twice, and Vardy added another, a 3-0 scoreline reminiscent of last season’s glory.

More importantly, the “super child laborers” signed in the winter transfer window were officially registered with the club. Luke Shaw, Sterling, Stones—these young faces appeared on the youth team roster.

On the Phoenix Training Center’s youth team pitch, three teenagers were adapting to their new environment. Shaw’s left-footed crosses were precise and powerful, Sterling’s speed amazed the coaches, and Stones’ game-Reading ability far surpassed his peers.

“Are these kids really worth that much money?” the assistant coach whispered.

The Youth Academy Director nodded, his eyes full of anticipation. “The boss’s vision has never been wrong. Give them time; they will prove their worth.”

The home match on January 17th revealed the team’s fatigue. The pressure of competing on multiple fronts began to show, and the players’ running distances significantly decreased. Facing Sheffield United’s stubborn defense, the game was a struggle.

In the second half, Coutinho’s long-range shot gave the team the lead. But the opponent quickly equalized, and the match entered a stalemate. It wasn’t until injury time that Henderson’s long-range shot secured the victory for the team.

A difficult 2-1 victory. Old John breathed a sigh of relief on the sidelines; he knew the team needed to adjust. The packed schedule was draining the stamina of these young players.

A bigger test quickly arrived. On January 20th, the first leg of the League Cup semi-final, away against Manchester City.

At the Etihad Stadium, the atmosphere of the Blue Moon’s home ground was fervent and hostile. Robinho, Kompany, Zabaleta—these big-name stars had revitalized Manchester City. The injection of Middle Eastern capital made this team ambitious.

“Be careful of that Brazilian,” Old John reminded the players in the locker room. “Robinho’s individual skill is excellent; don’t give him too much space.”

After the match began, Manchester City displayed powerful attacking prowess. Robinho attacked from both sides in the front, his dribbling and shooting putting Hartlepool’s defense under immense pressure.

Schmeichel became the team’s savior. The Denmark goalkeeper made several miraculous saves, denying the opponents certain goals. In the thirtieth minute, he saved Robinho’s close-range shot. In the fiftieth minute, he thwarted Wright-Phillips’ powerful shot.

“Schmeichel is in heroic form tonight!” The commentator praised repeatedly. “This young goalkeeper is proving his worth with his performance!”

In the seventieth minute, the opportunity came. De Bruyne received the ball in the middle and didn’t rush to pass, instead patiently observing the situation on the field. Suddenly, he spotted a gap.

Henderson quietly surged forward from the back, and De Bruyne, understanding instinctively, cleverly passed the ball into his running path. The England midfielder, without hesitation after receiving the ball, shot directly from thirty meters out.

The ball whistled towards the goal, goalkeeper Hart misjudged it, and the ball brushed the underside of the crossbar before flying into the net. The away fans’ section instantly erupted; this precious away goal was of great significance.

1-1, taking a draw from the Etihad Stadium, Hartlepool United gained the advantage.

In the FA Cup match on January 24th, Lin Feng boldly rotated the squad. Facing Premier League team Wigan Athletic, he fielded a lineup primarily composed of reserve players.

The JJB Stadium, Wigan’s home ground, was not an easy place to play. But Hartlepool’s reserve squad showed astonishing resilience. Maloney, Lallana, Ince—these young players seized the opportunity to prove themselves.

In the sixtieth minute, Ince successfully broke through on the wing, crossing to Maloney in front of the goal. The Scot easily tapped it in, securing a 1-0 victory over the opponent.

The continuous victories drew the attention of all of England. Hartlepool United’s miraculous journey continued, with every match writing new history.

But the most striking thing was the disappearance of Keira Knightley. Ever since Sophie’s engagement ring was revealed, the international film star had not appeared in the stadium box again.

The media keenly picked up on this detail. The Sun used “The Knight’s Gracious Exit” as a headline, implying that the actress, upon seeing Lin Feng was already taken, chose a dignified departure.

“True nobility never clings to what doesn’t belong to them,” an entertainment reporter commented. “Miss Knightley displayed her grace.”

Lin Feng paid no attention to these reports. His focus was entirely on the upcoming League Cup second leg. Mark Hughes’ provocative remarks had spread throughout England, and the Manchester City manager’s arrogance was evident to everyone.

“Money can buy players, but it can’t buy the heart to win,” Old John muttered after training. “We’ll make them understand that.”

The turf at Victoria Park was being meticulously maintained, preparing for the upcoming big battle. Workers busily checked every detail, ensuring a perfect presentation on match day.

Lin Feng stood in the box, overlooking the stadium that had witnessed countless miracles. Sophie nestled beside him, the ring on her left hand sparkling in the sunset.

“Are you nervous?” Sophie asked softly.

Lin Feng shook his head, a determined glint in his eyes. “Manchester City thinks money is everything, but they’re wrong. True strength comes from inner desire and team cohesion.”

In the distance, the Northern Dragon Arena was undergoing its final renovations. In a few months, this modern stadium would welcome its first spectators.

But before that, another war awaited them. The challenge from Manchester City, the sprint in the Championship, and that distant but clear dream of a treble.

Lin Feng knew that the real test had only just begun.