Chapter 78: Ten Hag Refuses to Substitute (230k more votes for monthly tickets!)

The match ended, and Utrecht, with two consecutive wins, retained their position at the top of the league table; Ten Hag returned to the press room.

Click-click!

“Eric, this is your second league win this month. Next Saturday you’ll face Willem II at home—do you think Utrecht can keep winning?”

“Willem II? Of course!”

Ten Hag answered without hesitation: “We beat Willem II in the previous league match, and we’ll win again a week from now—there’s no doubt about it.”

“But…”

The reporter paused: “We’ve noticed your next match against Willem II kicks off at 9:30 p.m.”

“Oh, it’s all the same.”

Ten Hag shrugged: “Whether it’s 8:30, 9:30, or 10:30, we’ll win. Right now, we’re in our best form.”

“That’s true.”

The reporter glanced at his notes: “According to the Dutch Youth Protection Act, underage players cannot work after 10 p.m., meaning Tang can play at most 30 minutes in the next match.”

?

The camera cut to Eric Ten Hag on the podium; the underdog coach’s expression froze.

Ten Hag patted Van der Gaag’s shoulder and whispered: “Is this true?”

Van der Gaag frowned—he didn’t know about this.

Pull out your phone and search.

Fuck, it’s true!

“Hmm…”

Ten Hag took a deep breath: “This isn’t a big issue. No matter how long Tang plays, we’ll give our all. But I must say this: no team can win forever.”

“You know—even the most outstanding teams, with the best coaches, can’t guarantee a 100% win rate. Willem II is a well-established side; I hold them in the highest regard.”

The reporter nodded: “Eric, did you change your tone because Tang can’t play the full match?”

“No, this has nothing to do with the player. I’m simply stating a fact.”

Ten Hag smiled: “Mr. Cocu’s experience made me realize a head coach must speak with precision. I respect Willem II, and I cannot guarantee a 100% win rate—that’s the truth.”

…

Utrecht Evening News front page headline: Due to Dutch Youth Protection Law, Tang can play at most 30 minutes in the next match against Willem II; if he remains on the bench after 10 p.m., Utrecht will face penalties from the Utrecht government.

Dongqiu Di: Match time too late, Tang Ye’s playing time restricted.

【What the fuck, they banned my Mongol? What’s the point of Utrecht even playing?】

【Holy shit, triggered youth protection law?】

【I thought this match started too early—can Utrecht ask the FA to move it earlier? That way we in China won’t have to stay up so late.】

【Willem II: I refuse to move the match!】

【Ten Hag’s still bluffing—wait till Mongol comes off, then we’ll see who the fraud really is.】

【Ten Hag: Tang is a fraud, how long he plays doesn’t matter—I’m the team’s only core.】

…

That night, Tang Ye carefully washed his hands with hand soap in the bathroom.

On the return bus, Tang Ye learned from Van der Gaag that he’d be legally protected in the next match.

He could only play 30 minutes next game—Tang Ye felt disappointed, but there was nothing he could do.

This wasn’t a football association rule—it was the damn Youth Protection Law!

But there was no time to dwell on it now; Tang Ye dried his hands thoroughly with a towel.

He sat on the chair, then…

Open the chest!

【You obtained Mbappé’s Volley Strike template.】

Volley Strike!

He didn’t know who Mbappé was, but it didn’t matter.

The name “Volley Strike” clearly had something to do with shooting!

He closed his eyes and focused—just as expected, it was a powerful shooting technique.

It was truly impressive, but the trigger condition was extremely strict.

After all, opportunities for a Volley Strike don’t come often!

After opening the chest, Tang Ye planned to watch a movie to relax, but then someone knocked on his door.

Suspecting Ten Hag had broken in, Tang Ye turned off his computer, remembering past lessons.

Then he opened the door.

“Tang Ye!”

What the hell?

Suddenly hugged, Tang Ye froze.

It wasn’t the hateful Ten Hag—it was his parents!

“Tang Ye, uh, let me look, let me look.”

Zhang Qingqing scrutinized Tang Ye before her; behind her, Tang Zhengxiong wore a smug grin: “How’s that, Tang Ye? Moved?”

To surprise Tang Ye, Tang Zhengxiong and Zhang Qingqing had gone through great trouble to find his room number and even hired a translator.

“Dad, weren’t you going to watch the Manchester Derby?”

Tang Ye smiled and led his parents into the room.

He remembered Tang Zhengxiong saying he’d go to England to watch the Derby—yet here they were, suddenly appearing.

Tang Ye felt relieved.

Good thing he’d had the sense to turn off his computer early!

“The Manchester Derby? That’s nothing. I skipped it just to come see you tonight.”

Tang Zhengxiong waved dismissively and sat down on Tang Ye’s bed.

“Hey, Tang Ye, don’t listen to your dad—he’s lying. We flew here from Liverpool.”

Tang Ye had been touched, but after Zhang Qingqing’s explanation, he fell silent.

“Dad, this…”

“Hey, it’s all the same.”

Tang Zhengxiong glanced around Tang Ye’s room: “Mainly, I came to see you. The Derby was just a side trip. Wait, Tang Ye, your room’s even smaller than I imagined—aren’t you planning to buy a place outside?”

“But isn’t it convenient? Right next door is the cafeteria, and next to that is the training ground.”

Tang Ye pulled open the window; from the fourth-floor dorm, he could see the three 11-a-side pitches of the first team.

But it was night, so outside was pitch black.

“That’s true. I toured your club earlier.”

Tang Zhengxiong continued slowly: “It’s nothing like Melwood (Liverpool’s first-team base). Your gym has only one floor—is that enough?”

“Of course it’s enough—we don’t have many players.”

Tang Ye had Zhang Qingqing sit on the bed, then moved his chair over and sat down himself.

“The Dutch league may be weak, but the atmosphere here is pretty good. On the way here, I saw your poster on the street—I told the driver, ‘That’s my son.’ He didn’t believe me. Fuck.”

Tang Zhengxiong clenched his teeth: “By the way, Tang Ye, your mom and I plan to stay in the Netherlands for two weeks. Do you have any family tickets? You know, the kind where everyone around you knows you’re a player’s relative?”

“Ah…”

Tang Ye fell silent under Tang Zhengxiong’s question: “Uh, Dad, why don’t you buy a suite ticket? Utrecht’s suite tickets are cheap…”

“That’s not the same.”

Tang Zhengxiong shook his head: “Family tickets are the real deal. You’re a midfielder, right? When you pull off a brilliant assist, I’ll jump up from my seat and shout, ‘That’s my son!’—how cool would that be?”

Tang Zhengxiong began to fantasize.

As a proud Premier League fan, he looked down on the Dutch league.

But this was his first time watching Tang Ye play live—he had to make it look impressive!

“That, that…”

Tang Ye blushed: “I gave away my family ticket slot…”

“What?!”

Before Zhang Qingqing could react, Tang Zhengxiong leapt off the bed: “Damn it, Tang Ye, we haven’t seen each other for two months and you’ve already got a new dad? What the hell?”

Tang Zhengxiong pointed at Tang Ye, then turned to Zhang Qingqing still sitting on the bed: “I knew my kid couldn’t be anything good. Qingqing, look at this!”

“Calm down, calm down!”

Tang Ye stood up and pushed Tang Zhengxiong back onto the bed: “I gave the tickets to fans! I met a few Chinese fans on the way—they regularly watch Utrecht’s games—so I gave them the slots.”

“Oh?”

Tang Zhengxiong’s eyes lit up: “Good! I knew my parenting had no flaws! Tang Ye, I’m telling you—this is exactly how you should act!”

“….”

“Zhengxiong, calm down. This is a dorm—other people are sleeping.”

Zhang Qingqing tugged at Tang Zhengxiong’s shirt: “Tang Ye, are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner tonight?”

“Tomorrow night. After training, I’ll take you out. Tonight’s no good—eating too much isn’t good.”

Tang Zhengxiong stood up and pinched Tang Ye’s arm: “You should eat more—your physique won’t cut it in the Premier League.”

Tang Zhengxiong really wanted Tang Ye to play in the Premier League.

On one hand, it would bring glory to Tang Zhengxiong.

On the other hand…

Tang Zhengxiong wanted Tang Ye to go undercover at Manchester United.

This is Tang Zhengxiong’s loyalty to his team as a Liverpool fan!

In the end, Tang Ye couldn’t refuse Tang Zhengxiong and sent a message to Ten Hag via his phone.

Upon learning that Tang Ye’s parents had arrived, Ten Hag promptly arranged a day off for Tang Ye, saying he could come to training late the next morning.

…

The next afternoon, Utrecht’s official Twitter account posted a tweet stating that their U17 player Tang Ye had been visited by his parents.

In the official photo, Tang Zhengxiong faced away from the camera, raising both hands with thumbs pointing to the 99 jersey on his back.

That was Tang Ye’s number, but the name above it wasn’t “Tang”—it was “Tom’s Dad.”

Under the accompaniment of Utrecht staff, Tang Zhengxiong toured the facility, then left Utrecht with Zhang Qingqing.

They planned to travel around the Netherlands and return before the next match.

“Are they really leaving already?”

Zhang Qingqing seemed reluctant to leave.

“Hey, don’t think like that—we’ll interfere with Tang Ye’s training if we stay.”

…

The day arrived: Utrecht versus Willem II.

As reporters had said, the match kicked off at 9:30, so Tang Ye had at most thirty minutes of playing time.

Yet even so, Ten Hag started Tang Ye.

The camera first showed Tang Ye chewing gum on the pitch, then cut to Tang Zhengxiong and Zhang Qingqing in the front-row stands.

“Guys, even though Tang Ye can only play thirty minutes, with his father and mother watching from the stands, I think Utrecht’s chances of winning are pretty high.”

“Yeah, Utrecht’s playing aggressively!”

“…”

“Van der Maarel launches a long ball straight to Ale!”

“Ale sets up Jansen!”

“Jansen passes again!”

“To Tang Ye!”

“Perfect! Jansen is incredibly smart—he chose to pass to Utrecht’s strongest striker!”

“Tang Ye, cut wide to the far corner!”

“GOOO——AAAAAA——LLLLLL！！！！”

“Goal! Goal!”

“Tang Ye! Beautiful!”

【You gained 10 Reverse Points】

【At 37, you’re playing on the pitch; your 39-year-old father watches from the stands—you gain an extra 1 Reverse Point】

【At 37, you’re playing on the pitch; your 36-year-old mother watches from the stands—you gain an extra 1 Reverse Point】

Scoring a goal just ten minutes into the match took Tang Ye by surprise.

The extra two Reverse Points were even more unexpected.

Awesome!

“Wuhu!”

Tang Zhengxiong punched the air; Zhang Qingqing clapped nonstop beside him.

Ten minutes later.

“Tang Ye, move your feet!”

“Move your damn feet! What kind of play is this?!”

“Move!”

The crowd was loud, but Tang Zhengxiong stood in the front row, and since he shouted in Chinese, every word reached Tang Ye’s ears.

Damn it!

So those two Reverse Points weren’t free after all!

At the 29th minute, the crowd turned their eyes to Utrecht’s bench.

No one was warming up.

“Huh? Is Ten Hag not substituting anyone?”

“Whoa—already thirty minutes, and Ten Hag still won’t substitute!”

“Damn, awesome!”

“Saint Ten Hag!”

【Wait, isn’t it illegal to keep playing past this point…?】

【Is Ten Hag this bold? He’s ready to pay the fine, right?】

【Isn’t Tang Ye’s dad yelling at him the whole time, haha!?】

【My brother’s movement is insane—even his own dad can’t take it!】

【Still not substituting?】

【What’s going on?】

At Willem II’s bench, head coach Boch glanced sideways at Utrecht’s bench.

He saw that Ten Hag had no intention of substituting.

Had he forgotten?

Boch took action—he had a forward on the bench put on a training vest and start warming up.

While warming up, he deliberately jogged in front of Utrecht’s bench and twisted his body in front of Ten Hag.

Ten Hag remained unmoved.

Fine.

Boch shook his head.

Ten Hag hadn’t forgotten—he had made up his mind not to substitute Tang Ye!

“Ten Hag isn’t making a substitution.”

“Why! Why is this happening?!”

The commentators were utterly baffled by Ten Hag’s move.

Minors cannot work after 10 p.m.

This isn’t a rule from the Dutch Football Association—it’s local Dutch law!

Eric, what are you doing?!

…

(End of Chapter)