Chapter 4: Training Match: Tuchel Observes from the Sidelines

“Eric!”

Tang Ye extended his right hand to Ten Hag; as a reserve player for the second team, he certainly recognized this first-team coach.

Ten Hag gave Tang Ye a quick glance: “How tall are you, about 1.75 meters?”

“1.74 meters.”

Tang Ye replied, and Ten Hag patted his shoulder: “No problem—your height is still growing at sixteen. Keep it up!”

After bidding farewell to Ten Hag, Tang Ye arrived at the second team’s training ground, where his teammates were already warming up under assistant coach Karen’s direction.

“Tang, you’re late again!”

The moment Tang Ye appeared on the training ground, Merent’s voice came instantly—he rushed to the locker room to change his shoes.

“This is your fifteenth tardiness this month. Do you even know what date it is? The 19th!”

Merent’s gaze burned with anger; the latter rubbed his head: “Sir, doesn’t that mean I haven’t been late in four days?”

“Those four days were holidays!”

Merent slapped Tang Ye’s butt: “Get warming up—something important’s happening today! First-team coach Eric is coming to observe our training!”

“Eric?”

Tang Ye’s eyes lit up. He found Zaka, who was warming up nearby: “What’s going on? Why is Eric coming to watch us train?”

“The new season’s starting, and the first team lacks midfielders.”

Zaka explained: not only was the second team short on midfielders, but Utrecht’s first team also faced a void in that position.

“I heard Milner might get promoted to the first team.”

Zaka nodded toward Milner’s direction—currently the midfielder most likely to catch Ten Hag’s eye.

“But I think you’ve got a chance too!”

Zaka grinned and raised an eyebrow at Tang Ye, who responded with a glare: “You’re imagining things.”

Beep!

Warm-up ended. Under Merent’s direction, the 29 second-team players split into two squads to select 22 starters.

Tang Ye had no chance of making the starting lineup—but Ten Hag demanded that all midfielders play in this scrimmage, so Tang Ye benefited from the rule and pulled on the green vest for Team B.

Assistant coach Karen blew the whistle, and the 30-minute internal scrimmage began.

Merent and Ten Hag sat together chatting; in truth, Ten Hag had already decided who would make the first team—this scrimmage merely made the process appear fairer.

“By the way, that 99, yeah—the Asian guy.”

Ten Hag pointed to Tang Ye in the green vest on the pitch: “Is he unwell?”

“Hmm? Why do you say that?”

“It’s been five minutes and he hasn’t run a single step.”

“….”

Merent stood up from his chair: “Fuck, Tang, get moving! If you don’t run, get off the field!”

Merent’s words worked instantly—Tang Ye kicked off and sprinted toward the ball carrier on Team A: Zaka.

Though Tang Ye was now running, he merely stared at Zaka in front of him without making any defensive move.

Is this what they call…

Eye defense?

“Snap!”

Tang Ye failed to intercept; Zaka seized the chance and played a direct pass to Milner, who advanced with the ball.

Seeing Milner in possession, Merent grew tense.

Ten Hag was here to pick players—if he took away the second team’s best midfielder, Utrecht’s second team would face disaster next season, getting crushed by other Eerste Divisie teams!

“Eric.”

Merent thought carefully, then spoke to Ten Hag beside him: “Milner’s carrying ability is decent, but he’s an extremely inconsistent player—and frankly, his defensive skills are average.”

Ten Hag raised an eyebrow, surprised by Merent’s words: “That’s not bad—I thought the 20 (Milner) was your best midfielder. He’s got Eredivisie bench quality!”

Damn it!

Merent sensed trouble.

It’s precisely because Milner is the best that you can’t take him away!

The first-team head coach can’t possibly understand the second team’s suffering!

“That’s true, but this is an internal scrimmage—you only see the players’ best sides.”

Merent had his own reasoning. Just then, Milner broke through and met defensive pressure. Ten Hag signaled for Merent to stay quiet and watch Milner’s move first.

On Team B’s arc, Milner faced two defensive midfielders pressing him. He glanced left and right—Zaka on the right flank was in perfect position. Logically, Milner should’ve passed wide.

But Milner didn’t choose that.

The first-team head coach was watching from the sidelines!

Under the gaze of both head coaches, Milner charged straight into the arc—and lost possession.

“See? That’s exactly what I mean—Milner has glaring flaws!”

Ten Hag said nothing. He’d seen it too—Milner was a player who loved to show off.

Playing solo was fine, but Milner lacked the ability to sustain such a lone-wolf style.

And he was a midfielder—how could a midfielder refuse to pass?

Considering Merent was the second-team coach and knew his players best, Ten Hag turned and asked a serious question: “Then who do you think is suitable for the first team?”

Merent extended his right hand and pointed to the 99 on the pitch: “Him!”

“You mean Tang?”

Ten Hag widened his eyes: “No, no, no—his attitude is too passive. Unless he keeps delivering passes like yesterday’s, he’ll struggle badly in the Eredivisie!”

After watching over ten minutes of the scrimmage, Ten Hag had a general sense of Tang Ye’s condition.

Not only did he gasp for breath after every few sprints, but his refusal to even run at all—Ten Hag would never let Tang Ye play in the Eredivisie.

“Besides, he’s too young!”

“That’s not an issue!”

Merent spoke seriously, then gave Ten Hag a mysterious look, gesturing for the Dutchman to lean closer.

“Tang’s outside-of-the-foot pass—he developed it himself. He can still produce passes at that level during matches!”

!!!

Merent’s heart pounded as he spoke, but he suppressed his emotions.

Don’t blush.

Absolutely must not blush now!

“Are you serious?”

“One hundred percent serious!”

Merent gave a thumbs-up, wearing a confident smile.

Just then, Tang Ye gained possession—Merent’s confident smile vanished instantly.

Fuck, I was about to pull it off—just pass the damn ball already!

Tang Ye didn’t care about the crowd outside—he didn’t even notice who was watching. His first glance went to the man sprinting ahead: Issa Karun.

Snap!

An outside-of-the-foot pass flew true, landing perfectly at Karun’s feet.

Another one-on-one chance—a textbook one-on-one!

Karun received it comfortably; all he needed was to cushion the ball with the inside of his foot and follow up with a push shot to score.

“Mmm!”

Clap, clap, clap!

Ten Hag applauded Tang Ye on the pitch: “Merent, you’ve got good eyes!”

“Merent…?”

Merent remained silent. Ten Hag turned to look—Merent, the second-team head coach, was staring dumbfounded at Tang Ye on the pitch.

“Ahem.”

“Er, Eric, listen—I should say Tang has many flaws. Don’t rush to promote him to the first team!”

…

(End of chapter)