56: Road to Wembley

Wembley.

The word, like a distant and sacred horn call, weighed heavily on everyone's heart at Phoenix Training Center.

For teams in the lower League of England, it is not just a stadium, but a belief, an ultimate glory that might be unattainable throughout an entire career.

And now, Hartlepool United is only two games away from it.

In Lin Feng's office, the atmosphere was somewhat solemn.

Old John Mcdonald stared at the two overly young names on the tactics board, his brows furrowed into a knot.

"Boss, this game... do we really want Henderson and Smalling to start?"

He rubbed his hands, his voice carrying a hint of plea that he himself didn't notice, "They are still too young, and this is the road to Wembley, what if..."

Lin Feng didn't look at him, his gaze still fixed on the green field outside the window. "John, Doncaster will fight hard; they will use League One-level physicality and experience to challenge us.

Our midfield needs a tireless lung to cover every corner, to disrupt their rhythm."

He turned and looked at Old John. "Henderson is that lung."

"As for Smalling, the opponent's number nine center forward is experienced and physically strong; we need someone with a similar physical advantage to limit him."

"Nelson handles the experience, Smalling handles the physicality. Do you understand?"

Old John opened his mouth but said nothing. He had grown accustomed to Lin Feng's every decision, even if those decisions seemed so unconventional.

He just nodded heavily, muttering to himself, what on earth was the boss's brain made of, to know even the opponent's forward's habits so clearly.

The news reached the locker room, causing a small stir.

Jamie Vardy whistled, walked over to Henderson, and nudged the serious-faced young man with his elbow.

"Hey, Jordan, ready to run your legs off on the field? Don't drag us down, kid."

Henderson just blushed, nodded vigorously, his eyes unusually firm.

In the stands of Victoria Park Stadium, the fans' songs were like waves, one after another.

Their yearning for Wembley transformed into deafening shouts, injecting strength into the players on the field.

The whistle for the start of the game blew, and Hartlepool United's players, like a group of fierce tigers unleashed, launched a fierce attack on Doncaster's half.

Just three minutes into the game, Vardy tore open Doncaster's defense with a characteristic sprint.

His low shot in the penalty area was saved by the opposing goalkeeper, but the aftermath of the ball had already put pressure on the away team.

Hartlepool United's pressing style of play made Doncaster's defenders appear extremely nervous when passing the ball in their own half.

Every interception, every contest for possession by Henderson in midfield, carried a fierce determination not to give up.

He attracted the surrounding ball and then quickly distributed it to Sigurdsson or Tinkler next to him.

In the fifteenth minute, the fervor at Victoria Park Stadium reached its peak.

Robert Snodgrass received a through ball from Matty Robson on the right flank.

Facing Doncaster's full-back, he faked a move to the inside, then with a simple change of direction, cleanly shook off his opponent.

He didn't hesitate, sending in a perfectly arced cross. The ball, with strong spin, flew precisely towards the center of the penalty area.

Jamie Vardy charged into the box, leaping high, and, despite being sandwiched by two defenders, he forcefully squeezed out a sliver of space.

The ball struck his forehead with a dull thud, then changed direction and flew into the net!

Doncaster's goalkeeper didn't even have time to react; the ball had already crossed the goal line.

1-0!

Victoria Park Stadium erupted completely!

The fans in the stands collectively jumped up, blue and white scarves waved in the air, and deafening cheers drowned out the stadium.

Vardy ran towards the corner flag, sliding to celebrate, and his teammates swarmed him, surrounding him.

After scoring, Hartlepool United did not ease their attack; instead, they played with more confidence.

On the field, the young man wearing the number 16 jersey, Jordan Henderson, was like a tireless engine.

His running covered the entire midfield, from his own penalty area to the opponent's half; his figure could be seen in almost every corner.

During a Doncaster counterattack, their midfield core attempted to dribble through, and Henderson caught up from behind, making a clean sliding tackle to clear the ball.

Veteran midfielder Mark Tinkler gave him a thumbs up in approval.

On the defensive line, Chris Smalling also withstood the pressure.

Facing Doncaster's experienced and physically strong number nine forward, his tall stature was like a wall in the penalty area.

Once, the opposing forward attempted to force a turn and shoot, but Smalling firmly held his position with his body, preventing the opponent from moving, who eventually had to pass the ball away awkwardly.

Captain Michael Nelson constantly reminded him of positioning and marking, while Smalling, like a dry sponge, eagerly absorbed the experience.

His several precise headed clearances completely nullified Doncaster's aerial advantage.

At halftime, Hartlepool United went into the break with a one-goal lead.

In the locker room, Old John's face was flushed with excitement; he waved his arms, praising the players' performance, but also warning them about Doncaster's counterattack in the second half.

As the second half began, Doncaster indeed intensified their attack, attempting to threaten Hartlepool United's goal with crosses from the flanks and long-range shots.

However, the defense formed by Smalling and Nelson was rock-solid, and Schmeichel also saved several dangerous shots from the opponent.

Henderson ran tirelessly in midfield; his interceptions and tackles made Doncaster's organized attacks difficult.

In the sixtieth minute, it was the Icelandic genius's turn to perform.

Hartlepool United won the ball in midfield, and after several passes, the ball came to Gylfi Sigurðsson's feet.

He received the ball outside the penalty area, looked up at the goal, made a slight adjustment, and then swung his left foot, unleashing a powerful shot!

The ball arced through the air, whistling, past the goalkeeper's desperate fingertips, and into the top corner of the net!

The goalkeeper made a diving save, but the speed and angle of the ball left him helpless.

2-0!

Victoria Park Stadium erupted in massive cheers once again; this time, the cheers carried a hint of relief and ecstasy.

The fans began to sing the team anthem, and Wembley seemed within reach.

However, just when everyone thought the game would end with this score, in the final minutes of the match, Doncaster earned a corner kick.

The ball was delivered into the penalty area, and Hartlepool United's defense became slightly chaotic, with figures intertwining.

The opposing center-back seized the opportunity in the scramble, poking the ball into the net during a goalmouth melee.

2-1.

This goal instantly silenced Victoria Park Stadium; the smiles on the fans' faces froze, replaced by tension and unease.

Doncaster's players, however, were greatly boosted in morale; they knew an away goal would have a huge impact on the second leg.

In the final few minutes, Hartlepool United defended deep, resisting Doncaster's last counterattack.

The final whistle blew, and Hartlepool United defeated Doncaster Rovers 2-1 at home, gaining an advantage in the two-legged tie.

The joy of victory was somewhat diluted by that conceded goal, but the players still felt a sense of relief.

After the match, Lin Feng walked into the locker room; he didn't say much, just walked up to Henderson and Smalling and patted their shoulders.

"Well done," he said, looking at the two young men with approval in his eyes, "you're growing faster than I imagined."

He turned to the whole team and said, "We won, but only half of it.

The away game will be a tough fight. Don't celebrate too early; focus on the next match."

Vardy wiped the sweat from his face, grinned, and shouted, "Don't worry, Boss! I'll score two more against them away!"

The players burst into laughter, and the tense atmosphere eased, but in everyone's eyes, the desire for victory burned.

They knew that the road to Wembley still had its most difficult step remaining.