As the three whistles sounded, golden beer in bars of Nottingham City was splashed into the air, and cars on the street made deafening whistles. They stopped, and the driver and passengers leaned out of the window and shouted.

"Champion! Champion! We are champions!"

The celebration scene in Nottingham and the celebration at the Athens Olympic Stadium are connected.

The players of the Forest team ran wildly on the court, cheering and incoherently accepted interviews. The media seemed to be flies surrounding the butter cake, and they surrounded the players of the Forest team, and the cameras, cameras and microphones reached forward.

As the team's head coach and the biggest contributor to creating this championship miracle, Tang En is surrounded by the largest number of media.

Tang En ignored them and ran straight to celebrate with his players. He hugged everyone, his lips tightly pursed and could not speak. He was so excited that he didn't care about the media surrounding him for shooting that he forgot that the first thing he did after the game was to shake hands with the other head coach.

When he came to his senses and remembered this incident, Ancelotti had already left.

"Coach Done! Coach Done! Can you accept a simple interview?"

"How does it feel to win the championship? Mr. Tangen?"

"It's so fucking great! Haha!" Tang En laughed out loud and spit out dirty words. At this time, he felt that he was the happiest person in the world, and the frequent flashes made him feel dizzy.

Is this true? I became the head coach who won the European Champions League?

Am I dreaming, am I? My head coach who became a monk halfway through has also become the king of Europe one day?

Are you sure this is not fm2007? Am I not playing games? A scene I could only see on TV screens before, but now I have experienced it myself...

My team really became the European champion?!

He ran aimlessly on the court. No matter where he ran, he would follow a large group of reporters carrying cameras, holding cameras, and holding microphones.

He saw Eastwood kneeling on the ground and crying. He ran over.

"Hey, what are you crying, Gipsay boy! You should be happy, we are the champions!" he laughed loudly.

"I'm happy, boss!" Eastwood turned his head and saw the head standing next to him, and also saw a large group of reporters behind him. The camera and camera in their hands were facing him... The Gypsy quickly wiped his tears and stood up from the ground. "Boss. You are like a big shit, and you carry such a large group of flies everywhere!"

"Hey! Freddy, you are a legendary shooter now. Pay attention to the influence in front of the media! The goal that locked the winner in the Champions League final was a beautiful job!" After Don said that, he hugged Eastwood tightly in his arms with a bear hug.

Maldini looked at the man in front of him, and the other party was also looking at him.

"Hey, are you going to apologize to me?" he asked.

The other party shook his head and nodded.

"I want to exchange jerseys with you."

Unexpectedly, Dmitrio Albertini would make such a request, and Maldini was a little surprised.

"Aren't you going to give me a retirement gift?" Albertini took off her jersey and handed it to Maldini.

"You asked me to take away the championship. I also asked for gifts..." Murdered, Maldini still took off his jersey and handed it to Albertini.

"Did you really decide to retire like this?" Maldini asked after exchanging jerseys.

Albertini nodded: "I'm tired and satisfied. I can't think of any reason to continue playing."

Looking at his old friend, Maldini couldn't even get angry.

He played in AC Milan until he was 38 years old. He enjoyed all kinds of praise. Demi, who is as loyal to Milan as he is, can only wander outside... Then this championship trophy may be owed to him the best compensation for Milan?

Maldini looked up at the rostrum, and he even thought that if Demi was not in the Forest, the Forest could still reach the final. Can he still win this game?

Unfortunately, there are no ifs on the football field, assuming these things.

Albertini turned his head and looked behind him. The Forest team members were already gathering hand in hand. He was going to be ready to thank the Forest team fans in the stands.

He was going to say goodbye to Maldini: "I have to go...well..."

"You go, call me when you go back to Milan." Maldini waved.

Albertini nodded. “I’m sorry, Paul…” he whispered, turning and running away.

The players of the Forest team were waiting for their captain Albertini and waited for him to come over. They then held hands and rushed towards the Forest team fans.

When they ran to the goal over there, everyone swooped down on the ground and glided.

Deafening cheers rang out in the stands.

The players stood up and applauded and thanked them.

After doing this, Tang En was surrounded by reporters in the center of the court for an interview. His brain had calmed down and was sure that he was not dreaming now, he was indeed a champion coach.

Tang was pulled to a secluded corner by Tang Jing for an exclusive interview. As the first assistant coach to win the Champions League, Tang had too many places worth hyping up and reporting. Other Chinese media surrounded Sun Jihai. Although the Chinese didn't play for a minute. She only sat on the bench for ninety minutes, which was enough for the Chinese media to be excited for several days.

This is the first Champions League that a Chinese player won!

Tang En found the Italian photographer who secretly photographed his raising hands in the reporter group. This was the culprit that caused everything. If he hadn't taken the photo secretly and deliberately mislead it to the media, how could he have promised to jump into the sea if he couldn't win?

When we meet again, Tang En, as a winner, did not give him any face.

"Oh, isn't this the Italian photographer? Why? Are you going to come to surrender to me today? Oh, it's a pity. If it were in the war, I would be killed directly to avoid wasting food. Our army will never accept prisoners."

The Italian journalist who said this turned pale and red, and his hands were not to put them or raise them.

After mocking the Italian photographer, Don En glanced at the crowd in front of him, and saw many Italian journalists inside. When he thought of the performance of the Italian media before the game, he could not suppress his inner disgust.

"I'm happy to answer your questions. But before that I also had my own conditions - I don't accept any questions from Italian media or Italian journalists, I don't understand your bad English." He shrugged and spread his hands.

Originally, the Italian journalists thought that after winning the championship, Tang En would respond to his requests, but he did not expect that this person would hold such a grudge. For a moment, they looked at each other and didn't know what to do.

"You don't have the right to do this!" an Italian journalist shouted in very pure English.

"I have it!" Tang En glared and yelled back. "Now I am the champion! I'm begging me to be interviewed. It's you who are not me! Do you like to listen? If you don't like interviewing me, I'm happy to go back and rest!"

After saying that, Tang En pushed the crowd away and was about to leave.

"I have never seen a head coach as ungraceful as you, Mr. Tony Donn!" the Italian reporter shouted dissatisfiedly from behind.

Don Eun stopped and turned to look at him: "You are right. Mr. Journalist. I don't care what you Italians think of me. I don't mind at all that you wrote me in the newspapers as Mussolini. You can criticize me in the newspapers for refusing to accept your interviews, and you can also say that I despise the whole of Italy. Do you want to snatch a photo of me giving you a middle finger to attract attention? Look, I am so considerate of you. I have provided you with such a great topic to hype. What do you want to interview me for? My dog ​​can't spit out ivory. Why don't you comfort the losers? Why are you doing around me?"

After saying that, Tang En turned around and left quickly, and a group of people hurriedly surrounded him.

"Mr. Mr. Tang En. We are not Italian journalists!"

"That's right, I'm from Spain, I have nothing to do with Italy!"

"I am an English journalist myself..."

As Tang En walked, he answered questions from these media casually. At this time, he fully enjoyed the privilege of being a champion.

The group of Italian journalists who were dumped felt that everything happened just now was incredible. They had never seen such a shameful champion... Who is he? What is his brain structure? How can he hold grudges so much? Why? Isn't he afraid of the media criticizing him? Doesn't he care about his personal image and reputation?

They were right, and Don did not care what the Italian media viewed him. He also did not care about his image and reputation among this group of people at all. He was only responsible for Nottingham Forest fans. As long as Nottingham Forest fans like him, it would be enough to love him. Even the English media is not a bird. The English colleagues of Italian journalists must have a deep impression of this.

The interview on the court did not last long, and all the players of the Forest team returned to the locker room to exchange for the club's T-shirts specially prepared for this championship. Under the red background, there is a golden number "3", and there is a line of golden letters on each of the numbers:

“champion

Nottinghamforest”

The champion is Nottingham Forest!

The podium is probably being built outside now, so the team members don’t have to rush out yet. They continue to celebrate in the locker room.

The champagne had been opened, and the shirtless players "fired" each other with wine bottles in hand.

Don En just finished the interview and pushed the door open and was poured from head to end by several streams of champagne. The photojournalists who followed Tang En's butt and planned to take a little shot in the team's locker room also became unlucky, with spots of wine stains on the camera.

Everyone laughed after seeing clearly that the boss came in.

"Welcome our champion coach - Tony Donne!"

Everyone raised the bottle in their hands and moved closer to Don En, seeing that attitude was about to pour it down. Don En, who was caught off guard, quickly asked Chris Lakke next to him for help: "Help me, David!"

Chris Lack stood up loyally. He rubbed the chair, raised his head above everyone, raised his hands to signal everyone to calm down first: "Listen to me, listen to me, guys!"

Everyone temporarily put down the bottle of wine in their hands and looked at their assistant coach.

"You have all listened to the coach's teachings more than once, right?" He stood in the chair and pointed at Tang En and said to everyone.

"Yes!" the players nodded and replied.

"It was him who infused you with spirit and faith!" Chris Lack raised the volume and increased the amplitude of his arm swing.

"That's right!" someone replied loudly.

"Let's cheer for him together. Follow me to read: Damn Tony!"

"Damn Tony!" the players shouted.

"We need your hell of incitement!"

"We need your hell of incitement!!"

"We are a group of mad dogs, a group of mad dogs who are drooling and moving forward bravely... and beat their opponents to the point of falling water!"

The players roared like real mad dogs.

"Defense, why do we live!"

The defensive players shouted: "Kill the opponent! Troll them!"

"Occurrence, why are we living!" Chris Lack shouted rhythmically, waving his arms.

"Score! Score!"
To be continued...