Training Match, ten Hag Observes from the Sidelines

Training Match, ten Hag Observes from the Sidelines

"Erik!"

Tang Ye held out his right hand to Erik ten Hag. As a substitute for the second team, he naturally knew the first-team coach.

Ten Hag gave Tang Ye a quick once-over. "How tall are you? About 1.75 meters?"

"1.74."

Tang Ye answered, and ten Hag patted him on the shoulder. "It's fine. You're only sixteen, you'll keep growing. Keep it up!"

After saying goodbye to ten Hag, Tang Ye headed to the second team's training ground. By the time he arrived, his teammates had already begun warming up under assistant coach Karen's instructions.

"Tang, you're late again!"

The moment Tang Ye appeared on the training ground, Merent's voice reached him. Tang Ye hurried into the locker room to change his boots.

"This is the fifteenth time you've been late this month. Do you know what day it is today? The nineteenth!"

Merent's eyes were full of fury as he looked at Tang Ye, who scratched his head. "Sir, doesn't that mean I wasn't late for four days?"

"Those four days were holidays!"

Merent slapped Tang Ye on the backside. "Get warming up! Something important is happening today! Mr. Erik from the first team is coming to watch the second team!"

"Erik?"

Tang Ye's eyes lit up. He found Zaka, who was warming up nearby. "What's going on? Why is Erik here to watch our training?"

"The new season's about to start. The first team is short on midfielders."

Zaka explained that it was not just the second team lacking midfielders. Utrecht's first team was currently facing a hole in midfield as well.

"I heard Milner has a good chance of joining the first team."

As Zaka spoke, he jerked his chin toward Milner. At present, he was the midfielder most likely to catch ten Hag's eye.

"But I think you've got a chance too!"

Zaka smiled and raised his eyebrows at Tang Ye, only to receive a disdainful glare. "You're overthinking it."

Beep! The warm-up ended, and under Merent's arrangements, the twenty-nine second-team players were divided into two sides, with twenty-two selected as starters.

Tang Ye originally had no chance of making the starting lineup, but ten Hag had demanded that every midfielder play in this training match. Tang Ye benefited from that and successfully put on the green bib representing Team B.

After assistant coach Karen blew the whistle, the thirty-minute internal training match began.

Merent and ten Hag sat together chatting. In truth, ten Hag had already decided who would make the first team. This training match merely made the process look fairer.

"Oh, right, number 99. Yes, that Asian kid."

Ten Hag pointed at Tang Ye, who was wearing a green bib on the pitch. "Is there something wrong with that guy physically?"

"Hm? Why do you say that?"

"The match has been going for five minutes, and he hasn't run once."

"..."

Merent rose from his chair. "Fuck, Tang, start running! If you won't run, get the hell off the pitch!"

Merent's words were quite effective. As soon as he finished speaking, Tang Ye swung his legs and ran out, arriving in front of Team A's ball carrier, Zaka.

Although Tang Ye had started running, he merely stared at Zaka in front of him without making any defensive move.

Could this be the legendary...

Staring defense?

Smack!

Tang Ye failed to make the tackle himself. Zaka seized the chance and threaded a pass forward to Milner, who carried the ball upfield.

Seeing Milner on the ball, Merent began to feel nervous.

Ten Hag had come to the second team to pick players. If he took away the second team's best midfielder, Utrecht's second team would face a difficult season ahead—a season of getting battered by other Eerste Divisie teams!

"Erik."

Merent thought carefully before speaking to ten Hag beside him. "Although Milner is good at carrying the ball forward, he's actually a very inconsistent player. And... to be honest, Milner's defensive ability is fairly average."

Ten Hag raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised by Merent's words. "Isn't that fine? I think number 20, Milner, is probably your second team's best midfielder. He's good enough to be an Eredivisie substitute!"

Damn it!

Merent sensed trouble.

It was precisely because Milner was the best that ten Hag could not take him away!

A first-team head coach could never understand the suffering of the second team!

"That's true, but this is an internal training match, so what you usually see is the players at their best."

Merent had his own line of reasoning. Just then, Milner, who was dribbling forward, encountered pressure. Ten Hag motioned for Merent to quiet down and wait until they had seen what Milner did next.

At the top of Team B's penalty arc, Milner faced two defensive midfielders closing him down. He looked left and right. Zaka was in a very good position on the right, and logically, Milner should have sent the ball wide.

But Milner did not choose to do that.

The first-team head coach was sitting off the pitch! Under the watchful eyes of two head coaches, Milner chose to force his way toward the top of the arc, only to lose possession in the end.

"You see? This is what I meant. Milner is a player with very obvious flaws!"

Ten Hag said nothing. He had seen it too—Milner was the sort of player who liked to show off.

There was nothing wrong with playing selfishly, but Milner did not possess the ability to support such a lone-wolf style.

Besides, he was a midfielder. How could a midfielder not pass the ball? Considering that Merent was the second team's head coach and knew the players best, ten Hag turned his head and asked a very serious question. "Then who do you think is more suitable for the first team?"

Merent raised his right hand and pointed to number 99 on the pitch. "Him!"

"You mean Tang?"

Ten Hag's eyes widened. "No, no, no. His attitude is far too passive. Unless he can keep producing passes like yesterday's, he'll have a very hard time playing in the Eredivisie!"

After watching the training match for over ten minutes, ten Hag had gained a rough understanding of Tang Ye.

Forget how he was already out of breath after running a few steps. With an attitude like this, where he would not even run, ten Hag would never let Tang Ye play in the Eredivisie.

"Besides, he's too young!"

"That's not a problem!"

Merent said solemnly, then gave ten Hag a mysterious look and gestured for the Dutchman to lean in.

"Tang produced that outside-of-the-foot pass with his own ability. He can make passes of that level in matches too!"

!!!

Merent's heart pounded as he said this, but he kept his emotions firmly under control.

Don't blush.

Whatever happens, don't blush now!

"Are you serious?"

"One hundred percent serious!"

Merent gave a thumbs-up, a confident smile on his face.

Just then, Tang Ye won the ball, and Merent's confident smile abruptly vanished.

Fuck, I'm about to fool him successfully, so pass the damn ball already!

Tang Ye had no idea what was happening off the pitch, nor did he care who was watching him. The first thing he saw when he looked up was Isa Kallon running furthest ahead.

Smack! He whipped the ball out with the outside of his foot, and it flew straight to Kallon's feet.

Another one-on-one chance—a textbook one-on-one! Kallon received it perfectly. All he needed to do was cushion the ball with the inside of his foot, then follow up with a placed finish to score.

"Mm!"

Clap, clap, clap! Ten Hag applauded Tang Ye on the pitch. "Merent, you've got a good eye!"

"Merent, hm?"

Merent had not said a word, so ten Hag turned his head and found the second-team manager staring at Tang Ye on the pitch in stunned disbelief.

"Cough, cough."

"Erik, listen to me. Actually, Tang has plenty of flaws too. There's no need to rush about sending him to the first team!"