Chapter 29: Are you serious? If you really mean it, I’m getting up!

“Coach, can I start warming up now?” Ayoub asked quietly as Ten Hag sat back down on the bench.

When Ten Hag decided to start Tang Ye, he had told Ayoub that he would substitute Tang Ye around the 60th minute, bringing Ayoub on. Ten Hag gave a brief reassurance, signaling Ayoub not to rush.

Earlier that morning, Ten Hag had thought just that about the young player.

But now...

Tang Ye’s progress had exceeded the Dutchman’s expectations.

This Chinese lad was rapidly approaching the level of the Eredivisie.

Ten Hag knew he had to take this seriously.

The referee blew the whistle to signal halftime. Thanks to goals by Tang Ye and Alae, Utrecht led Sneek 2-0 away from home.

“Coach, can I start warming up now?” Ayoub asked again, but Ten Hag’s response was to tell him to hold off—for now.

Hold off, yes, but when exactly? Ten Hag didn’t specify.

Ayoub was beginning to feel the pressure.

It seemed Ten Hag wasn’t planning to give him a chance at all!

…

In the visitors' locker room, Ten Hag was reviewing the first half.

“Very good. Our rhythm throughout the half was excellent, especially offensively. We played creatively, and that’s what pleases me most.”

His eyes involuntarily flicked toward Tang Ye.

Heh!

Tang Ye caught Ten Hag looking his way, raised an eyebrow, and suddenly sat up straighter.

“I wasn’t praising you,” Ten Hag said coldly.

For Ten Hag, handling a young player like Tang Ye was easy.

Young players needed encouragement.

But young players were still young players; lazy pigs were lazy pigs.

Praising a pig won’t help—you have to kick its behind.

Make him run!

“I think I played okay,” Tang Ye took a sip of water to ease the awkwardness.

Although he had logged the least distance run on the team in the first half, he reminded himself he had scored.

“Yeah, Tang did play…” Alae put a hand on Tang Ye’s shoulder, ready to compliment him, but Ten Hag shot him a sharp glare.

“Okay, okay. Tang, you still need to work harder, much harder,” Alae said, clapping his hands.

Ten Hag walked over to Tang Ye. “Kid, you’re still young. I want to tell you something: a football match has two halves. Just because you perform well in the first half doesn’t mean you’ll do the same in the second.”

Tang Ye’s big eyes stared at him, seeming a little confused, so Ten Hag explained further: “You can score in the first half, but not in the second. So you need to stay low-key, understand? Low-key!”

“Okay, okay,” Tang Ye nodded, seemingly having taken in the coach’s words.

…

“The second half has begun, brothers! The away team leads by two, and Utrecht’s odds are still strong,” the commentator announced. “Feel free to place more bets. Let’s watch the game. The home team has made a substitution, and number 6, Ayoub, is warming up for the visitors.”

“Utrecht making a substitution?”

“Damn it, not now! Why change when you’re leading? Ten Hag, what the hell? Don’t do it! Don’t do it!”

Wang Chao was under immense pressure, and the livestream fans started complaining.

But Ten Hag wouldn’t even listen to the crowd, let alone the noisy livestream viewers.

On screen, Van der Gagh spoke briefly with the fourth official, who then adjusted the substitution board.

“Ten Hag, damn it! If you can’t manage the team, just quit! Isn’t this substitution idiotic?”

“Get fired! Wait, is it Amrabat coming on?”

“That’s a good change! Perfect substitution!”

“Guys, Ten Hag’s substitution is smart. He’s bringing on the more offensive Ayoub while leading 2-0.”

“Utrecht is looking to extend their lead.”

“If I were Sneek’s coach, I’d be shaking now. Tang Ye is still holding strong!”

Normally by the 50th minute, Tang Ye would be tired, but he still felt fine.

Wardi’s Red Bull was kicking in!

At 62 minutes, despite Sneek’s substitution, Utrecht still controlled the match.

Sneek’s forward, Gonzalez, was putting heavy pressure on Tang Ye, but it was ineffective.

Because Tang Ye’s teammates were stronger!

“Move forward!” Ramselar called from behind, dribbling past Tang Ye.

Tang Ye had wanted to combine with Ramselar, but the captain insisted, so Tang Ye had no choice but to run forward.

Seeing Ramselar on the pitch, Ten Hag rubbed his temples.

Utrecht had no true holding midfielder, but two players pretended to be.

One was the lazy pig, Tang Ye, who barely ran, let alone controlled the ball.

The other was Ramselar.

He didn’t control the ball well but loved to possess it!

Unfortunately, Sneek’s players were careless, missing chances, and Ramselar passed the ball to the advancing Balazic.

Balazic pushed forward!

He was searching for an opportunity!

Alae stretched out on the left wing, but Balazic took his time.

Alae was marked by two defenders, and a pass now would gift them a chance.

Snap!

Balazic sent the ball to Tang Ye’s feet.

Hmm!

Looking at the goal ahead, Tang Ye was tempted, but he had no shooting angle.

He decided against shooting.

On screen, Tang Ye flicked the ball and started walking toward the penalty area.

He wasn’t running—he was walking!

“!!!”

Sneek’s defenders grew anxious seeing Tang Ye’s relaxed expression.

Van der Feen moved to intercept but ended up stepping on Tang Ye’s ankle.

Damn!

A sudden surge of pain shot through Tang Ye’s body, and Utrecht’s number 99 collapsed onto the ground.

…

“Penalty!”

“Penalty! That’s definitely a penalty!”

“King Tang wins a penalty in the box!”

Beep!

The referee was decisive, running over when Tang Ye went down.

He raised his right hand.

Pointed to the spot!

Ten Hag raised his arms in triumph, but his expression grew serious.

Looking at Tang Ye’s face...

Damn, is something wrong?

“Hsss—!!!”

In the box, Tang Ye gritted his teeth, brow furrowed.

The ankle pain was intense, and he was clearly in discomfort.

Alae rushed over, pushing Van der Feen away from Tang Ye. “Tang, are you okay? This penalty’s yours.”

“Okay!”

Tang Ye suddenly jumped up. “Really?”

“No! Don’t give it to him! No!” Ten Hag shouted from the sidelines.

He had just told Tang Ye so much at halftime.

Wasn’t the plan that he wouldn’t score in the second half?

Unfortunately, the Sneek goal was too far away from Ten Hag. Unless he had a megaphone, Alae couldn’t hear him.

“Of course it’s real. Hey, you okay?”

Alae wanted to improve his standing in the Eredivisie scoring charts, but goals in the Dutch Cup didn’t count.

Since it didn’t help him, better to give the chance to Tang Ye.

Once Tang Ye was happy, he’d be passing more aggressively in the Eredivisie!

“Just a minor injury.”

Tang Ye pressed down hard on his toes a few times and felt much better after standing again.

“Alae gave the penalty to Tang Ye!”

“Alae, you’ve got a bright future!”

“Tang Ye!”

“Taking the penalty himself!”

On screen, Tang Ye waddled toward the spot, swaying left and right, making Luister a bit dizzy.

Snap!

A gentle push shot!

“Tang Ye, brace yourself for a second goal!”

“Utrecht 3:0!”

…