Chapter 53: A Formidable Foe in Eindhoven? No, the Ultimate Showdown of the Eredivisie!
Utrecht team reporter Pielna: Ten Hag has earned immense trust from the club’s top management; some executives already see him as the hope for the team’s resurgence.
Dutch Royal Football Association match preview: On November 8th at 1:30 p.m. Amsterdam time, a top-tier Eredivisie clash—PSV Eindhoven hosts Utrecht.
Attached is the Eredivisie standings for the 2015-16 season:
1. Utrecht – 27 points
2. PSV Eindhoven – 27 points
3. Alkmaar – 25 points
4. Ajax – 24 points
5. Feyenoord – 20 points
6. Groningen – 19 points
Gazing at the standings displayed on the association’s homepage, Ten Hag felt a restless unease—this was why he seldom stressed league rankings to his players.
He found it puzzling: how did Utrecht, after starting the season with two consecutive losses, suddenly accumulate so many points?
When exactly were these points earned?
It seemed as though Utrecht hadn’t won that many matches, right?
But upon reviewing the match records, Utrecht truly had gained that many points!
Lying alone in bed, Ten Hag stared at the ceiling, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
In his first season with Utrecht, after eleven rounds, Ten Hag had led the team to 27 points, edging out Eindhoven for first place on goal difference.
Riding this momentum, he also nurtured a young prodigy named Tang Ye.
My goodness, how am I this strong!
...
On November 5th, three days before Utrecht’s away match against Eindhoven, Ten Hag carved out time from a hectic training schedule to have the players undergo medical examinations.
There were many tests, but two results caught Tang Ye’s attention.
Height: 1.77 meters
Weight: 66.5 kilograms
“Wow, I really grew!” Tang Ye was delighted—nearly four months had passed since his last medical check.
Growing three centimeters in four months was quite satisfying to him.
“You’re still short,” Amrabat said, stepping up to Tang Ye and gesturing with his hand.
The Moroccan was a full half-head taller than Tang Ye.
“What’s the rush? I’m still growing,” Tang Ye replied.
Amrabat shrugged nonchalantly. “I dream every night about growing taller. I think my ceiling is around 1.86 meters, maybe even 1.87!”
“When was your last check?” Tang Ye suddenly asked.
“1.82 meters.”
“And this time?”
“...1.82 meters.”
“Where did you grow then?” Tang Ye laughed at Amrabat. “When I met you a year ago, you were already that height and haven’t changed since!”
“Come on, it’s just a matter of time. I will grow, and I’ll definitely be taller than you. Trust me!”
Amrabat fired back confidently.
Hearing the commotion, Ten Hag walked over. “You two midfielders, what’s the use of height? Are you planning to play defender or striker?”
“I need it for physical battles,” Tang Ye explained. “If I get taller, I’ll gain weight and become stronger in duels. That way, I can intercept opponents’ attackers and pass to my teammates.”
As he spoke, he even mimicked the moves to hide his modesty.
“Okay, okay, impressive, very impressive!” Ten Hag applauded. “I know you’re good at physical duels, so can you explain why you ran off halfway through the last training session?”
“...”
“I went to the bathroom,” Tang Ye said, touching his nose. “When I came back, I saw you all had finished training, so I just went straight to the cafeteria.”
“Sofyan can confirm!” Tang Ye pulled Amrabat forward, pitting bald head against bald head.
“Yes, I can confirm,” Amrabat gave a thumbs-up and pointed at Tang Ye. “He went back to the dorm to play games.”
“Wait!” Tang Ye suddenly realized the trouble and hurriedly pushed Amrabat away.
Amrabat shrugged helplessly. “If you admit you’ll never be taller than me, I could have gone to bat for you.”
“Damn!”
Facing Ten Hag and Amrabat, Tang Ye took a step back.
Bald heads stick together.
Neither of these bald guys was a good person!
“You need to make up the missed training time from last session—double time,” Ten Hag said, then left.
“Oh, right!” Suddenly remembering something, Ten Hag stopped. “You’ll start in the match on the 8th. We’ll postpone the makeup training until after that game. Don’t overexert yourself before the match; Eindhoven is tough to play against.”
Hearing this, Amrabat looked at Tang Ye in shock. Tang Ye pointed at his mouth. “Ah, so I’m starting the next game?”
“Wasn’t I clear enough?”
Ten Hag looked at Tang Ye with exasperation, but what Tang Ye said next left him speechless: “Eindhoven is too strong. If I start, we won’t lose, right?”
“If I say you start, you start. Don’t argue with me here. If you do, I’ll have you replace...”
He stopped mid-sentence, realizing his mistake, and quickly corrected himself: “I’ll have you eat in the second team’s cafeteria!”
“Sorry, sorry, my bad,” Tang Ye apologized repeatedly.
Ten Hag wasn’t as harsh as people imagined.
Tang Ye had almost thought he was being benched.
...
On match day!
Philips Stadium!
Today marked a clash between the reigning Eredivisie champions and the rising dark horse. Nearly 40,000 seats at Philips Stadium were sold out.
Furthermore, with four hours until kickoff, football journalists from the Netherlands and across Europe had already surrounded the press room.
Click! Click-click!
Ten Hag entered calmly, took the microphone in front of the reporters, and blew on it twice.
“Erik, what do you have to say about winning October’s best coach award?”
“I know, but there’s little time now. We should focus on today’s match instead, don’t you think?” Ten Hag did not rush to discuss the award he would receive after the game.
Now was definitely not the time.
He had to wait for the match result before deciding what to say.
“Alright. Today, you face PSV Eindhoven away. They were last season’s league champions and are the strongest team you’ve encountered so far this Eredivisie season.”
Ten Hag nodded, signaling the reporter to continue.
“Some fans and commentators have said this is a mismatch, since Eindhoven’s squad value is nearly ten times yours. Facing such a formidable opponent...”
“No, sir, I must correct your statement,” Ten Hag interrupted.
“Eindhoven is indeed a strong opponent, and I believe they think we’re strong too.”
“This isn’t a mismatch between a weak and a strong team. It’s a match between the league leaders and runners-up.”
Ten Hag looked down at the front row of journalists.
“This kind of match has another name...”
“The Eredivisie summit clash!”
...