26: Toffee Challenge

Outside Victoria Park, rain drizzled in the twilight.

Fans had started queuing at 6 AM, waiting for entry. These loyal Hartlepool United supporters wore heavy raincoats, clutching their already soaked scarves and flags.

For this small town of only 90,000 people, tonight's match held immense significance.

Premier League giants Everton were a truly formidable team. Tim Cahill, Mikel Arteta, Andy Johnson—these names resonated throughout English football.

Their opponents, however, were a League Two team with an average age of under twenty-two.

Tickets had sold out three days prior.

Black market prices soared to five times their face value.

Inside the Phoenix Training Center office, Lin Feng sat quietly by the floor-to-ceiling window.

Raindrops tapped against the glass, making a soft, continuous sound. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk, while the [Tactical Analysis Module] in his mind operated at high speed.

System Analysis: Everton Combat Power Assessment

Head Coach: David Moyes, Tactical Style: Counter-attacking, Wing Crosses

Key Player Threat Level:

Tim Cahill (Grade A): Top-tier heading ability, keen sense in the penalty area

Mikel Arteta (Grade A): Playmaker, wide passing vision

Andy Johnson (Grade A-): Fast, strong dribbling ability

Recommendation: Adopt the “Tian Ji’s Horse Racing” strategy, avoid head-on confrontation

A nearly imperceptible curve appeared at the corner of Lin Feng’s mouth.

Tian Ji’s Horse Racing.

This ancient Chinese wisdom was equally applicable in modern football.

If one's strength was inferior to the opponent's, then one must use wisdom to bridge the gap.

At 4 PM, in the tactical meeting room.

Old John stood in front of the tactics board, marker pen in hand. But his gaze was fixed on Lin Feng, who sat in the corner, his eyes full of anticipation.

The importance of this match was self-evident.

If they could defeat Everton, Hartlepool United would achieve the greatest victory in the club's history.

“Boss, what do you think our approach should be?”

Old John’s voice was a little nervous. Facing a Premier League team, his coaching experience seemed somewhat inadequate.

Lin Feng slowly stood up and walked towards the tactics board.

He picked up a marker pen and drew two rows of horses on the board.

“John, have you heard the story of Tian Ji’s Horse Racing?”

Old John shook his head.

“During the Spring and Autumn period, there was a general named Tian Ji in the state of Qi. He raced horses against King Wei of Qi,” Lin Feng’s voice was calm and confident. “Tian Ji’s horses were each one grade inferior to King Wei’s, but by cleverly arranging his lineup—using his inferior horse against King Wei’s superior horse, his middle-grade horse against King Wei’s inferior horse, and his superior horse against King Wei’s middle-grade horse—he ultimately won two out of three races.”

Old John’s eyes gradually brightened.

He began to understand Lin Feng’s intention.

“Tonight’s match is similar,” Lin Feng marked the comparisons for each position on the tactics board. “Everton’s overall strength is indeed superior to ours, but football is not a simple comparison of strength.”

He pointed to the formation diagram on the tactics board.

“In the first half, we will use solid defense to wear down their momentum. Let Cahill and Arteta feel the pressure, causing their passing accuracy to drop. At the same time, we will use Vardy’s speed for disruptive counter-attacks.”

“This is like using our inferior horse against their superior horse. Although we will be at a disadvantage, the goal is not to win, but to exhaust them.”

Old John nodded, beginning to take notes in his notebook.

“And the second half?”

“The second half is key,” a glimmer of wisdom shone in Lin Feng’s eyes. “When Everton’s stamina drops and their mentality becomes anxious, we will then unleash our true trump card.”

He marked the positions of several substitute players on the tactics board.

“Gylfi will come on in the second half; his passing ability and shooting technique are our superior horses. Danny’s assisting ability, Snodgrass’s wing breakthroughs—these are all our winning weapons at critical moments.”

“Using our superior horse against their middle-grade horse, and our middle-grade horse against their inferior horse.”

Old John’s astonishment was evident.

He had never imagined that a football match could be analyzed this way. In his understanding, football was a contest of eleven against eleven, with victory determined by on-field performance and luck.

But Lin Feng treated the entire match as a chess game.

Every player was a piece, every substitution a tactical adjustment.

“Boss, your strategy… it’s simply genius!”

Old John’s voice trembled with excitement.

In his view, Lin Feng wasn't just managing a football match; he was playing a brilliant game of chess.

Inside the changing room, the young talents were making their final preparations.

Kasper Schmeichel stood in front of the mirror, meticulously checking every detail of his goalkeeper gloves. Tonight he would face the onslaught of Andy Johnson and James McFadden, two Premier League-level strikers who were by no means ordinary.

But there was no hint of fear in his eyes.

Instead, a long-awaited fighting spirit burned within him.

“Finally, I get to face a real Premier League team,” he murmured softly, his voice trembling with excitement.

Danny Simpson sat in the corner, silently strapping on his shin guards.

As a player from Manchester United’s youth academy, he had a special connection to Premier League teams. Tonight was not just a match, but an opportunity to prove himself.

To prove that Manchester United's decision to let him go was a mistake.

Jamie Vardy paced back and forth in the changing room.

His hands rubbed together incessantly, a habitual gesture when he was nervous. But the flames burning in his eyes revealed his true thoughts.

Desire.

A desire for goals, a desire for victory, a desire to prove himself.

“Andy Johnson’s top speed is 32 kilometers per hour,” Vardy suddenly spoke, his voice very soft. “My top speed is 36 kilometers per hour.”

Robert Snodgrass glanced at him, a slight smile appearing on the Scotsman’s face.

“Jamie, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that in terms of speed, I don’t lose to any Premier League player.”

Although Vardy’s voice was calm, his tone conveyed absolute confidence.

On the bench, Gylfi Sigurðsson sat quietly.

The sixteen-year-old would not start tonight, but Lin Feng had already told him that the second half would be his time to shine.

The Icelandic teenager's heart beat fast.

He knew the caliber of opponents he would face tonight. Tim Cahill, Mikel Arteta—these names held immense influence in European football.

But there was no fear, only excitement.

Outside Victoria Park, the media area was packed with reporters of all kinds.

Sophie Green stood amidst the crowd, clutching her newly acquired press pass. Sky Sports, BBC, ITV—almost all major British media outlets had sent their best reporting teams.

Her feelings were complex.

Excitement mixed with nervousness, anticipation with worry.

Just a month ago, she was merely an intern reporter for The Guardian. Now, she had become Hartlepool United’s officially designated chief beat reporter.

All these changes stemmed from that mysterious young Chinese man.

“Sophie, I heard you have a good relationship with that Chinese owner?”

A nearby reporter leaned over, his eyes gleaming with gossip.

“Can you reveal some inside information? Like how he discovered these talented players?”

Sophie shook her head; she actually didn't know much more about Lin Feng than other reporters.

The young man always seemed so mysterious, giving official answers in every interview.

But her intuition told her that tonight would be a special night.

In the player tunnel, both teams stood side by side.

Everton’s players were noticeably taller than Hartlepool United’s, their faces showing experience and confidence. Tim Cahill occasionally stretched his neck, making cracking sounds. Mikel Arteta silently observed the opponent’s lineup.

In contrast, Hartlepool United’s players appeared younger, but their focus was no less intense.

Vardy stood at the front of the line, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his breathing even and powerful.

Schmeichel was at the back of the line, his height making him stand out.

Sky Sports’ broadcast van was in position, and the ace commentary duo of Martin Tyler and special guest Alan Smith were preparing for the match.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” Martin Tyler’s voice echoed through the stadium via the microphone. “Welcome to Victoria Park! A League Cup third-round clash, as League Two dark horses Hartlepool United host Premier League giants Everton!”

“The stadium is completely packed!”

Fans in the stands waved their scarves and flags, their shouts sweeping through the entire stadium in waves.

Alan Smith took the microphone: “Martin, this is indeed an exciting night. The home team, Hartlepool United, under manager John McDonald, has fielded a relatively stable 4-4-1-1 formation today.”

“The goalkeeper is still number 13, Kasper Schmeichel, Peter Schmeichel’s son, who has been in excellent form recently; the defense consists of number 15 Danny Simpson, captain number 5 Michael Nelson, number 4 Ben Clark, and number 3 Matty Robson; the four midfielders from right to left are number 14 Robert Snodgrass, number 8 Mark Tinkler, number 6 Gary Liddle, and number 11 Adam Boyd; the attacking midfielder is number 10 Joel Porter, and leading the line is the incredibly fast number 9 Jamie Vardy.”

“It's worth noting that Gylfi Sigurðsson is on the bench; this sixteen-year-old Icelandic talent might be a surprise weapon in the second half.”

Martin Tyler nodded: “For the away team, Everton, manager David Moyes has fielded his strongest lineup, deploying their usual 4-4-2 formation. The goalkeeper is number 24 Tim Howard; the defensive line features number 2 Tony Hibbert, number 5 Joseph Yobo, number 4 Alan Stubbs, and number 3 Nuno Valente; the midfield from right to left includes number 17 Tim Cahill, number 16 Mikel Arteta, number 18 Phil Neville, and number 7 Simon Davies; the strike force consists of number 9 Andy Johnson and number 10 James McFadden.”

“This is a star-studded lineup!” Alan Smith added.

In the stands, Lin Feng sat quietly in his box.

Rain tapped against the glass window, his fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, a steady and powerful rhythm.

System Prompt: Match is about to begin

Current Morale: Extremely High

Opponent Strength Assessment: Significant Advantage

Tian Ji’s Horse Racing Strategy Activated

Estimated Win Probability: 23%

Recommendation: Strictly adhere to the pre-planned tactics

The referee raised his right hand, signaling both teams to be ready.

The lights of Victoria Park illuminated the entire stadium like daylight, and the cheers of nearly ten thousand fans converged into a deafening roar.

This was the most important match in Hartlepool United’s history.

And it was the best stage for these young talents to prove themselves.

The whistle blew.

The match began!