Launching a New Front, Fighting on Three Fronts

Newcastle's training base, Darsley Park.

Newcastle was in the midst of intensive training to help the new arrivals settle in.

The three new players adapted at different speeds.

Mathias fit in seamlessly.

That was because Newcastle's tactical philosophy shared similarities with that of San Remo: it emphasized doing the right things in the right areas rather than assigning duties based on a player's nominal position.

Moreover, Mathias's relationship with Lu Yang gave him the status of an elder statesman at Newcastle from the moment he arrived.

Besides, he was older and had made it clear that he accepted a substitute role, so he would not come into conflict with the interests of the other players in the squad.

Vincent Kompany was adapting fairly well too. He trained hard, kept a low profile, and carried himself humbly.

The only one with a bit of a problem was Lucatu.

But it was not an issue of attitude. It was an issue of mindset.

He always wanted to play as a winger.

"No, no, no, stop! Lucatu, come here. Everyone else, keep training." Flick halted the practice match and called Lucatu over to the sideline. "Do you know what your position is?"

Lucatu was not stupid. He knew where he had gone wrong. "I'm a center forward, but doesn't the team's tactics encourage us to make more runs?"

Flick shook his head. "What we encourage is scientific, planned movement—not running around everywhere like a headless chicken."

"The players you see running freely are all doing so along predetermined routes. There is no absolute freedom in this world, and certainly none on the pitch."

"And you need not only to learn the routes you should be taking, but also to remember your responsibilities. You are a center forward. Our attack needs a focal point—someone