Chapter 24: Ten Hag: Just Say Whatever You Want

“Beep, beeeep—!!!”

Full-time whistle: Aale scored a hat-trick, helping his team win 3-0 away against Willem II.

Aale was undoubtedly the star of this match, but another player also caught the attention of fans and reporters.

At the reporters’ invitation, Ten Hag attended the press conference with Tang Ye.

This was Tang Ye’s first press conference and his first-ever media interview.

He was a little nervous!

Click!

Click-click-click!

Amid a flurry of shutter sounds, Tang Ye sat beside Ten Hag.

“Tang, your performance today was incredible. That pass in the second half helped Sebastian secure his hat-trick—what were you thinking when you made it?”

“Uh…”

Tang Ye thought carefully.

What was he thinking then?

“Well, I was in our own half, far away from our attacking players.”

Tang Ye stretched both arms out to show the distance: “If I wanted to join the attack, I’d have to sprint all the way forward—that’s exhausting.”

“Exhausting?”

The reporter frowned: “How does that relate to your amazing pass?”

“Exactly—if I just passed it straight to Sebastian, I wouldn’t have to run.”

The room fell silent, then the camera shutters resumed.

The reporter didn’t know what to say.

To avoid running such a long distance, he simply kicked the ball directly from his own half to his teammate.

He felt Tang Ye’s answer was somehow off.

But he couldn’t pinpoint why.

After a moment of silence, the reporter decided not to dwell on it: “According to a report by Utrecht Sports, you’ve been banned from the first-team cafeteria—is that true?”

Tang Ye didn’t answer immediately; he looked toward Ten Hag beside him.

Ten Hag smiled: “It’s fine—just say whatever you want.”

“Oh, okay.”

Tang Ye nodded: “It’s true that…”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Beneath the table, Ten Hag’s leather shoe pressed down on Tang Ye’s foot.

Tang Ye looked again at Ten Hag, who still smiled and nodded: “Go ahead—tell the truth. We at Utrecht are always honest with the press.”

“If we did it, we did it. If we didn’t, we didn’t!”

Tang Ye rubbed his chin: “That’s definitely fake news.”

“First-team players eat in the first-team cafeteria. Since I left the reserve team, I haven’t set foot in their cafeteria.”

The reporter stared into Tang Ye’s eyes.

…

“Aale’s Hat-Trick: Utrecht Blank Willem II 3-0, Chinese Teen Tang Ye Delivers Jaw-Dropping Long Pass”

“Football’s Longshot King? Tang Ye Says He Passed Because He Didn’t Want to Run Far”

“Tang Ye Denies Being Banned from First-Team Cafeteria!”

【Don’t want to run far? Fine—that fits my impression of Mong.】

【If any other player said this, I’d think they were showing off. But coming from Mong? He really just doesn’t want to run.】

【Admin, can you ban these trolls?! My King Tang is always hardworking!】

【Mong: Running’s too tiring—just kick it!】

【No exaggeration—Tang Ye ran over 2km yesterday. What more do you want?】

【Since Mong came off the bench, Utrecht hasn’t lost. Ten Hag, why not start him?】

【Ten Hag, incompetent!】

…

The day after the match, Utrecht’s first team had the day off.

Except for Tang Ye.

“To avoid writing homework, this is the price you must pay!”

Tang Ye performed half-squats with a barbell on his shoulders while Fan De added motivational shouts.

“Think of your homework—think of that Dutch essay with hundreds of words. If you don’t want to write it, train harder.”

“Trade your training effort for the right to skip your homework!”

Duang!

Tang Ye stood up abruptly with the barbell, the metal plates clanging sharply.

“Two more—come on!”

Fan De shouted. Tang Ye took a deep breath, squatted again, and rose once more.

Tang Ye’s expression made it look like a brutal strength workout—but it wasn’t.

Tang Ye is only sixteen. For the healthy development of his bones and muscles, Fan De never loads him with heavy strength training.

What Tang Ye is doing now is called “strength endurance.”

It means sustaining a burst of power over time.

Though less grueling than speed endurance, it’s still tough to train.

“Okay, perfect—great job!”

Tang Ye finished his set. Fan De marked a small check on his paper.

Since the extra training began two weeks ago, Tang Ye’s physical strength data has improved significantly.

“You never know—Tang, you’ve got decent physical talent.”

Fan De patted Tang Ye’s butt: “Keep this up, and by seventeen you’ll absolutely meet the physical standards to start in the Eredivisie!”

“Endurance is uncertain, but strength? Definitely.”

Speaking of strength, Fan De remembered something and glanced at his arm.

Perfect—the time was right.

Fan De led Tang Ye to the door, where a red lunchbox labeled “99” sat outside.

“This is what you need to eat tonight.”

Fan De shoved the box into Tang Ye’s hands, along with a pair of chopsticks.

Tang Ye’s training volume far exceeds what three meals a day can provide. After consulting with the fitness coach, Ten Hag decided to add a late-night snack to his afternoon tea routine.

“Thanks, Michel!”

Tang Ye was already hungry—this was a timely boost.

He opened the lunchbox.

Rye bread, pasta, Dutch pancakes, and several huge chunks of raw herring.

Tang Ye instantly recognized them as first-team cafeteria food.

There was a clear clue: Utrecht’s first-team cafeteria serves raw herring; the reserve team’s uses cooked herring.

“Michel, this is raw.”

Tang Ye poked a herring chunk with his chopsticks and held it up to Fan De: “I never eat raw herring.”

“Then what do you want?”

Fan De turned to him.

“Hmm…”

“Tomato and scrambled eggs, boiled pork slices, sweet and sour spare ribs—yes, and white-cut chicken. I love white-cut chicken the most.”

“Fuck off!”

Fan De rolled his eyes: “I’ve never heard of any of those dishes. Buddy, eat what’s given. Finish it.”

“But I never eat raw herring.”

“This is the closest you’ve ever been to the first-team cafeteria.”

!!!

Damn!

…

(End of Chapter)