76: The brilliance of the trophy

Before the Wembley hangover had fully dissipated, Victoria Park Stadium welcomed their old rivals—Bristol Rovers, whom they had just defeated in the final.

In the stands, fans were still immersed in the joy of victory, with blue and white scarves several times more numerous than usual, and their songs were exceptionally loud, as if to bring the passion of Wembley directly to Hartlepool.

Morale is a mysterious thing. The Hartlepool United players seemed to have new springs in their legs, running with great vigor.

Every touch of the ball carried the unique confidence and composure of a champion team.

Meanwhile, the Bristol Rovers players still had the shadow of their Wembley defeat in their eyes, and their movements were half a beat slower, as if they hadn't yet recovered from the disappointment of that final.

The outcome of the match was never in doubt. In the first half, Vardy met a cross from Snodgrass, scoring with a clean finish that found the back of the net.

In the second half, Gylfi Sigurðsson unleashed a signature long-range shot from outside the box, and the ball crashed into the net like a cannonball, leaving the opposing goalkeeper no chance.

Before the end of the match, Vardy capitalized on another counter-attack, going one-on-one and scoring his second goal, sealing the victory.

Three-nil. Hartlepool United cleanly defeated their final opponents once again, announcing their unstoppable rise with a resounding victory.

The day after the match, Hartlepool City Hall held a grand championship parade for the team.

A blue and white open-top bus, carrying the heroes holding the EFL Trophy, slowly drove through the city's main streets.

The streets were packed with flag-waving fans, tens of thousands of people blocked the small town, the noise was deafening, ribbons flew, and the entire Hartlepool was immersed in a festive carnival.

Children rode on their fathers' shoulders, shouting the players' names at the top of their lungs, their small faces beaming with adoration for their idols.

Vardy grinned broadly, raising the trophy high above his head, drawing waves of thunderous cheers. He even jumped off the bus to high-five fans, fully displaying his usual 'devil-may-care' attitude.

Schmeichel was teased by his teammates, spraying champagne into the crowd, causing fans to shriek and dodge, but their faces were all smiles, enjoying this hard-won moment of glory.

Young new recruits like Jordan Henderson and Chris Smalling also held the trophy tightly, their eyes sparkling with excitement. They knew they were becoming heroes of this small town.

Lin Feng did not get on the parade bus; he simply stood with John Stone on the City Hall balcony, calmly watching the joyful blue and white ocean below.

His gaze was profound, as if it could penetrate time and space.

"Boss," Mr. Stone's eyes were a little moist, and his voice trembled with excitement, "We succeeded, we really won a national championship!" He looked at Lin Feng, his eyes full of admiration, feeling that this young man possessed a calmness and control that was beyond ordinary people's reach.

Lin Feng nodded, but his gaze passed over the jubilant crowd, looking further afield.

In his mind, the system interface continuously updated with prestige values and commercial value assessments.

Every fluctuating number confirmed the correctness of his every decision.

The trophy's halo quickly transformed into tangible contracts.

Riding this momentum, Lin Feng officially announced that the club had signed a three-year equipment sponsorship agreement with the national sports retailer "Sports Peak," totaling over three and a half million pounds. For a League Two club, this was an astronomical figure.

Immediately after, they reached a community cooperation agreement with the largest local supermarket chain, "Northern Life," extending the club's reach into broader commercial areas.

The numbers in the club's account were pleasingly active, going from near bankruptcy to financial health in less than one season.

John Stone looked at these numbers and felt like he was dreaming. He even began to wonder if Lin Feng truly possessed the magic touch of "turning stone into gold."

After the celebrations, Lin Feng held an internal team meeting at Phoenix Training Center.

The players, still bearing the fatigue and excitement of the hangover, sat lazily in their chairs.

Lin Feng entered the meeting room, said not a word of congratulations, and simply turned on the projector.

On the screen was the latest League Two standings. Hartlepool United's name was at the top, but the pursuers behind them were only a few points away, and the League championship suspense had not yet been fully revealed.

"Winning the EFL Trophy is very impressive," Lin Feng's voice was calm, yet it made everyone sit up straight.

The room instantly fell silent, with only his clear voice remaining, "But it's in the past. Now, I ask you, do you want to make this season even more impressive?"

He pointed to the standings, his sharp gaze sweeping over each player's face.

"League champions. Getting promoted as League Two champions, achieving the great feat of a 'Double Winner'! That, is our only goal now!"

The players looked at each other, the fire in their eyes rekindled.

The glory of Wembley had made them more mature and more eager for victory.

Vardy was the first to stand up, saying loudly, "Let's do it, Boss! We want the Double!" His voice carried an undeniable firmness.

Other players also responded, and the meeting room was once again filled with high fighting spirit.

Old John had been molded into a "champion coach" in front of the media, but he knew that he was only the boss's mouthpiece on the sidelines.

He looked at Lin Feng, his eyes full of admiration and conviction. He even began to actively study Lin Feng's "profound" tactical theories, trying to keep up with the boss's rhythm.

Sophie Green's reports also shifted from "Cup Miracle" to "Road to the Championship."

She wanted to document how this team went from a relegation-threatened side, step by step, to the throne of the Double Winner. She believed this team's story had just begun.

At the Phoenix Training Center Phase Two construction site, excavators roared, and the foundations for the new youth academy dormitory and indoor training hall had been laid. Everything was proceeding in an orderly fashion, foreshadowing a brighter future.

In Lin Feng's office, on the computer in front of him, were the potential opponents for next season's League One.

In his system's [Player Radar], several young players with potential to establish themselves in League One had already been locked in, their names and data flickering on the screen.