27: Iron Bucket Formation

The whistle tore through the rainy sky above Victoria Park.

Everton's players immediately displayed Premier League-level pressure.

Mikel Arteta controlled the ball in midfield, his footwork so delicate it was suffocating. Every touch carried Spanish elegance, every pass was accurate to the centimeter.

"This is the difference in class," a fan in the stands couldn't help but exclaim.

Arteta's passing lanes were clear and deadly. His vision covered the entire midfield, and every distribution tore open Hartlepool United's defense. Tim Cahill roamed behind him, the Australian's runs full of menace.

In the 3rd minute, Everton created their first dangerous chance.

Cahill made a late run to receive Arteta's pass, unleashing a powerful shot from the edge of the box.

The ball whistled through the air, heading straight for the top corner.

Schmeichel, at that moment, displayed a calmness beyond his years. Without the slightest hesitation, he pushed off with both feet, his entire body springing forward like a coiled spring. His right arm fully extended, his fingertips touched the ball at the last possible second.

The ball was slightly deflected, hitting the crossbar and bouncing out.

"Oh my god! Schmeichel!"

Martin Tyler's voice had begun to tremble.

"That save was incredibly difficult! This kid's reaction speed is simply astonishing!"

Alan Smith took the microphone.

"Martin, Schmeichel is in incredible form today! He's like a wall standing in front of Everton! This kid has a bright future!"

Hartlepool United's defense quickly contracted under Schmeichel's command.

Lin Feng's tactical arrangements began to take effect.

They defended deep, maintaining an exceptionally compact formation. Every player knew their position and responsibilities clearly, giving Everton no easy chances to shoot.

In the 8th minute, Andy Johnson received a cross on the right side of the box.

The England international's shooting technique was unquestionable. After one touch, he struck it directly, the ball's angle tricky and full of power.

But Schmeichel once again became Hartlepool United's savior.

He dived, palming the ball out for a corner with one hand.

The entire movement was fluid and powerful.

Victoria Park erupted in thunderous applause.

The home fans were completely won over by the Danish goalkeeper.

Everton's players began to feel frustrated.

Facing a League Two team, they had expected an easy match. But reality caught them off guard.

In the 15th minute, Vardy showed his worth.

Although Hartlepool United was defending passively, their harassment in the attacking third never stopped. Vardy intercepted Phil Neville's pass near the halfway line and immediately launched a counter-attack.

His speed exploded at that moment.

His legs churned like a blur, each stride hitting Everton's defenders where it hurt. Alan Stubbs and Joseph Yobo were forced to retreat, and the entire backline instantly tensed up.

Although this counter-attack didn't result in a shot, Vardy's threat was deeply imprinted in the minds of Everton's players.

"Speed is a weapon," Vardy thought to himself as he ran back. His legs were still slightly aching, but the wildness in his eyes remained undiminished.

On the right wing, Snodgrass also displayed courage.

Facing Nuno Valente, an experienced Portuguese defender, the Scotland winger showed no fear. Every time he received the ball, he dared to break through, and every run was full of menace.

In the 22nd minute, Snodgrass received a pass from Simpson on the wing.

He used two feints to get past Valente, then burst into the box.

Although the final cross was cleared, Everton's left-sided defense was already showing signs of weakness.

David Moyes frowned on the sidelines.

The Scotland manager hadn't expected these youngsters to play so tenaciously. What worried him more was that the Everton players' mentality was beginning to subtly shift.

The frustration of failing to score despite prolonged attacks was spreading.

In the 28th minute, Tim Cahill received a cross inside the box.

The Australian's heading ability was renowned in the Premier League. This time, he leaped high, overpowering Ben Clark to head the ball towards goal.

The angle was tricky, and the shot was powerful.

But Schmeichel once again displayed his miraculous saving ability.

He fully extended his body in the air, holding the ball firmly with both hands. Upon landing, he didn't hesitate for a moment, immediately organizing a counter-attack.

"Schmeichel! It's Schmeichel again!"

Martin Tyler's voice was completely hoarse.

"That save was a work of art! Schmeichel's performance today has transcended the limits of his age!"

Everton's players began to appear anxious.

Arteta's passes started to go astray, and Cahill's runs were no longer as precise. The subtle shift in their mentality was affecting their technical execution.

In the 35th minute, James McFadden attempted a long-range shot.

The ball went far wide of the goal, not even posing a threat.

The Scotland striker shook his head in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to play against a group of League Two players.

Hartlepool United's defensive system began to show its power.

Every player strictly followed the tactics set by Lin Feng. No tackling, no fouling, just using their bodies and positioning to limit the opponent's space to operate.

This war of attrition was exactly the result Lin Feng wanted.

In the 40th minute, the opportunity finally arrived.

After an Everton attack was cleared, the ball fell into midfield. Alan Stubbs's back pass lacked power, and Vardy keenly spotted the opportunity.

He pounced on the ball like a leopard.

Stubbs tried to recover, but it was too late. Vardy successfully intercepted the ball, then faced the onrushing Tim Howard.

One-on-one!

The air in Victoria Park instantly solidified.

Vardy took a touch, then pushed the ball with his right foot.

But Howard's experience came into play at that moment. The American goalkeeper anticipated the direction of the shot and blocked the ball out for a corner with his leg.

"Oh! Just barely!"

Alan Smith's voice was filled with regret.

"Vardy's counter-attack was textbook-perfect! If that had gone in, the momentum of the game might have been completely different!"

Vardy clasped his hands to his head, his eyes full of unwillingness.

This was the best chance of the first half, and having missed it, he didn't know how many more such golden opportunities there would be.

In the 44th minute, the referee signaled two minutes of added time.

Everton launched a final attack. Arteta received the ball at the edge of the box, and facing tight defense, the Spaniard opted for a long-range shot.

The ball grazed the post and flew out for a goal kick.

The added time ended, and the referee's whistle blew.

The first half concluded with both teams drawing a blank, 0-0.

Hartlepool United successfully withstood Everton's relentless onslaught.

The players walked towards the changing room tunnel, with Schmeichel leading the way. His jersey was soaked with sweat, but his eyes burned with excitement.

Everton's players looked somewhat dejected.

They hadn't expected these young League Two players to be so tenacious. What frustrated them even more was that despite dominating, they couldn't convert their advantage into goals.

In the executive box, Lin Feng slowly stood up.

A knowing smile, indicating his plan had succeeded, played on his lips.

The data displayed by the [Tactical Analysis Module] was exactly as expected. Everton's physical exertion was even greater than anticipated, and several key players' running distances were already approaching critical levels.

More importantly, subtle cracks were appearing in the Toffees' mentality.

Impatience, frustration—these negative emotions were festering deep within them.

Old John hurried towards the executive box.

The moment he opened the door, his face was filled with excitement and disbelief.

"Boss! We really did it!"

Old John's voice trembled with emotion.

"Schmeichel was simply a god descending to earth! And Vardy's counter-attack almost succeeded!"

Lin Feng turned around, his gaze calmly fixed on the old coach, who was now completely won over.

In Old John's eyes, he saw a devotion and trust that bordered on blind worship.

"Are you ready for the second half?"

Lin Feng's voice remained calm, but carried an undeniable confidence.

"Get Gylfi warmed up. The real game has just begun."

Old John nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling with long-awaited excitement.

He was already eager to see the Icelandic prodigy's performance in the second half.

The 'Tian Ji's Horse Racing' strategy was taking effect.

The contest of the superior horse against the inferior horse was about to begin.