Reborn on Top of Football

Vol 4 Chapter 637: Throwing stones (3)

Three years ago, Ranieri was sent away in such a process. Old players such as Terry and Lampard are still fresh in memory. Then, the little Portuguese came, and after that, everything was **** different!

The previous Chelsea in the Premier League was Fulham, a typical little transparent. In the past, Chelsea fought every year to qualify for the European War. There were Manchester United, Arsenal, and Liverpool. They did not dare to think of a Premier League title, let alone expect the Champions League. In the past, Chelsea, no one paid attention to, no one cared. It was in West London, a place where nobles lived, and was as bleak as their decayed body and history.

After the arrival of the Portuguese who bid farewell today, Chelsea is like a big firecracker, instantly glorious, instantly brilliant, and instantaneous. Some people are crazy about love, others gnash their teeth with hate. However, whether it is love or hate, Chelsea are on fire and are among the top four in the Premier League. They even surpassed the veteran Manchester United in attracting attention.

The transformation of a small transparent into a big man is inseparable from Mr. Roman’s golden ruble, and even more so because of the Portuguese’s catalysis.

In this simple farewell ceremony, after all, there was the most obvious difference from three years ago. In addition to the four roles of favorite, old courtier, general and traitor, come in to watch the fun.

After the following dialogue was circulated, it was regarded as the key content.

"Wiwi? Are you going to the wedding?"

"No, coach."

"Are you going to participate in the honors?"

"No, coach."

"Why not go to school?"

"I'm here to wish you a happy breakup."

Jose shook his head with a wry smile, released the hand holding Wang Ai, and punched Wang Ai in the chest. This was the only action that appeared in this farewell meeting.

Jose finished a circle, looked back, and found that most people were still looking at him, while Terry had already sat down with his head down, and Sheva turned on the Walkman. With mixed feelings, he waved his hand at everyone and took a step. Stepped out of the locker room. And Drogba was still crying.

Malouda and Kalu came up to comfort the weeping Beast, Lampard also came over and patted him, Wang Ai squeezed his shoulder when he passed by and walked through the crowd.

Chelsea is in a mess now, and no one cares about him. Soon afterwards, Peter Kenyon walked in: "Grant will become the new head coach and Clark will guide the first team."

It's a pity that nobody cares about him. Everyone knows the ending, and we also know that Clark, the first-team coach, named the head coach is actually a puppet. He is a loyal performer of Jose's route and will soon be purged. Keeping him now is just a little better.

After all, Jose's results are too brilliant, and Grant... has been the coach of the Israeli national team? What is it?

Peter Kenyon looked a little ugly when no one cared about him. He swept around and suddenly said, "Where is Wiwi?"

Tanker Cech raised his head and said slowly: "It should be to see him off."

Peter's face suddenly darkened. Of course, you have to keep a little face to the outside world. Whether it is Chelsea's announcement or Jose's speech, they are gentle and not leaking. However, the end of get out of class is the end of get out of class. If the contradictions are intensified to the point that it is difficult to resolve, or the people who are not offended are intolerable, how can get out of class be dismissed midway?

Pretending to be external, but standing in line internally. Drogba was so sad that at most he told his agent that he was going to transfer, and he didn't dare to send someone off against the wind at this time. That is already a dead dog. If you give him a funeral, you want to go in too?

Cech, with a pit in his head, may have a weird perspective after his brain is wide open, and he can tell the truth in a word, either when others are not paying attention or not expecting it. If he didn't say anything, Peter would know.

When he said this, Drogba, who was impulsive, took a step forward and was held tightly by Kalu. Peter shook his head and turned to go out without saying anything. From this incident, we can see the attitude of the team and the players. Of course, those who support the club have to reuse them, those who express their regrets can also rest assured, those who are very sad should be cautious, and see off...

Outside the door, Jose, holding a carton box, walked to the parking lot during the KAKA shooting by several reporters. He did not guard against the sound of leather shoes behind him, and a frivolous voice sounded: "Where is Mendes?"

Jose was stunned and shrugged: "I have been with me for more than ten hours. That's okay, he is very busy. What are you doing here?"

"I wish you a happy breakup!" Wang Ai whistled.

"I'm already like this, why bother?"

"Do you think I need to care? Show me what you have here?"

When Jose emptied his hand, the carton box ran to Wang Ai's squeaky nest. He opened the lid of the box with one hand and pulled it inside. Jose wanted to stop it, but it was too late, so he let go of this kind of peeping action that he would never tolerate, but at this time it seemed kind and warm.

"Yeah? Family portrait? Did the dog find it?"

Jose snorted: Whatever it's uncomfortable, just say what, fuck!

"Diary? Oh no, your shorthand book? Oh, I wanted to open it a long time ago. It's an old miracle from the outside world!"

Jose tilted his head and squinted at Wang Ai. Wang Ai opened a page and frowned, "What is this? What word is this? I remember that the eight languages ​​you speak are all European. Alphanumeric characters, how come there are pictograms...cuneiform characters?"

Jose walked to his car and snorted: "That's my shorthand symbol, only I can understand."

"Okay." Wang Ai threw the box in the back seat with a crash, and walked in with the door open, patted the dashboard: "Drive!"

Jose looked at Wang Ai seriously this time: "You wear this suit today, just to see me off for the beautiful scenery? Then, send it to this one, you really followed me out of Cobham, the club has new The coach hates you to death."

Wang Ai shrugged: "Drive."

As the car passed through the crowd, the reporters all saw Wang Ai sitting in the co-pilot, but his mouth was moving and he couldn't hear what he said.

"How can you say that you are also a meritorious coach. You have changed the great man in the Premier League. Even if you are fired, you can't really carry a box like a white-collar worker? So? Go out and make a place for you!"

Jose shook the steering wheel and nodded: "You can say this directly, I can be more moved."

"Hahaha!" Wang Ai laughed: "José, you are a drug, even if you hate you again, even if you hurt me, I am still willing to support you."

Jose shrugged: "You have to believe in Armani's aesthetic."

The car drove up the main road until it reached Jose's house. Wang Ai helped move the box down, and Matilde had already greeted him.

"Well, wiwi, go back, thank you."

"What are your plans next?"

"Next?" Jose said unexpectedly: "I might be a columnist or game commentator for some time?"

Wang Ai nodded, and suddenly asked, "Do you want to take over the Portuguese national team to gain experience in the future?"

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