Chapter 1 Morning

Cobham Training Centre, shrouded in mist.

The sound of cleats meeting the football, echoing the birdsong from the branches, composed a vibrant movement.

As Tuchel passed Kanté, he suddenly crouched down and yanked down the French midfielder’s shorts with both hands, then walked away expressionlessly.

Kanté looked embarrassed and hurriedly pulled up his pants.

Everyone: “…”

A little hard to accept.

The control-freak and serious new Chelsea coach had this kind of quirk?

A moment later.

Tuchel, with a serious face, turned to Dino and said, "These small interactions can increase the bond with the players. Did you learn that?"

Dino nodded seriously, silently noting "pull down players' pants" in his notebook.

Clap clap clap!

The Chelsea coach clapped his hands, and the coaching staff began to get busy.

The obstacles began to change position.

Instead of blocking both sides of the center circle line, they blocked the four corner areas.

In an instant.

The training ground became a diamond hexagon.

"In the matches against Burnley and Manchester City, we relied too much on using wing mismatches and diagonal long passes to solve problems."

"Premier League and Champions League opponents will quickly study this."

"The requirement for the group matches these days is: forget the damn wings and the end line!"

The Tuchel Chelsea style is no style.

The overall tactical inclination aside.

Tuchel believes that the players' fighting power is not improved through traditional training, but by teaching them how to find their own strengths in different constraints.

The process of shaping this guy's tactical thinking is chaotic: Bruce Lee, Jeet Kune Do, Sanshou, Cruyff, economics, Guardiola, differentiated learning…

Of course.

He has also reflected on his shortcomings during his time coaching Mainz and Dortmund: suppressing his desire for control and no longer getting angry over minor things.

This is not an easy task for vegetarians.

Break time.

Diego Costa drove a tricycle, taking his teammates for a 'ride' around the training base.

"These weird training methods of the boss are useless to me!"

"However, I think everyone has become smarter during the games!"

"Lee, you should find a girlfriend. I always search for niche literature about Brandt. An adult football star without a girlfriend is usually considered…"

Pfft!

Hazard sprayed a mouthful of mineral water on Diego Costa's face.

"Why do you like to read this type of literature?"

"Of course, because it's interesting, because it's sweet, especially Brandt and that... It's a pity that the serialization speed is too slow. I really want to beat the author!"

Diego Costa twitched his eyebrows, his smile ambiguous, immediately causing everyone to burst into laughter.

This guy usually likes to "harass" his teammates in the showers, and even the news that "Kanté wears underwear when showering" was exposed by him.

Li Kang nodded seriously.

He had to learn from Brandt's lessons. After that kid was dumped by his girlfriend, he couldn't recover his playing form for a long time.

Chelsea still faced many challenges.

He had to focus his time and energy on games and learning.

He couldn't let everyone down.

He couldn't let down the two hundred and fifty million and the top Premier League salary.

Ten minutes later.

The Chelsea players resumed training.

Morata slapped his forehead and said to Diego Costa, "I know which book it is! Isco recommended it to me."

Not far away.

Čech, wearing a tanker hat, was exchanging goalkeeping experience with Caballero and Eduardo.

Only nine days remained until the summer transfer window closed.

Ms. Skaia and the negotiating representatives rushed to various places.

Chelsea, in a passive position, would probably have to complete the signings at the last moment.

Time was like that thing, it passed in a flash.

In the blink of an eye.

It was the day of the Champions League group stage draw.

Li Kang and the club representatives arrived in Monaco.

The North Gate of the Grimaldi Forum was not much different from previous years.

Blue carpet, blue cordon.

Excited fans, eager media reporters, wildly shaking posters and jerseys, constantly flashing cameras.

"Lee!!!"

In the midst of a frenzy of shouts.

The stars made their appearances one after another.

According to the fans' previous speculation: UEFA would allow clubs with superstars to safely pass the group stage to ensure ratings.

But this year was different, the list of third-tier clubs was extremely terrifying.

Undoubtedly, it intensified the suspense of qualifying from the group stage.

Tonight, football fans all over the world were looking forward to the birth of the group results.

"Lee, there's a high probability that we'll meet in the Champions League this year."

Atlético Madrid coach Simeone, with a slicked-back hair and a black trench coat, patted Li Kang's shoulder enthusiastically.

Griezmann next to him wore an impatient expression.

Atlético Madrid was suffering recently.

Restricted by the transfer ban, they couldn't sign anyone this summer.

Coupled with the main midfielder's serious injury, the aging lineup, and other factors, everyone was pessimistic about their new season.

Even the senior management of Atlético Madrid advised Simeone to lower his goals and focus on one front.

Everyone chatted while heading towards the ceremony venue under the guidance of the staff.

However… Tuchel's words did not conceal his appreciation for Atlético Madrid goalkeeper Oblak, which made Simeone lose interest in continuing the conversation.

After entering the venue.

Everyone went their separate ways.

Li Kang took the number plate and walked all the way to the front row seat.

It was a coincidence.

It was the seat between Buffon and Ronaldo again.

Clap clap clap!

The Juventus goalkeeper, who had shaved his beard, slapped the empty seat next to him vigorously, excitedly urging Li Kang to sit down quickly.

Ronaldo subconsciously smiled, but suddenly remembered the Champions League final last season, and immediately straightened his face again.

Buffon joked, "He's pretending to be cool again!"

Ronaldo: "…"

He still shook hands with Li Kang.

The originally empty seats were gradually filled with representatives from all sides.

The LED screen on the main stage played the footage of Wenger leading Arsenal to the championship last season.

The revenge battle at Camp Nou.

The prodigal son returns to North Rhine.

The Munich miracle arc.

Strolling leisurely at the Turin Allianz Stadium.

The screen finally froze on the Millennium Stadium, the bandaged red and white number 10 in the background.

The entire venue was immediately drowned in applause.

The camera turned to Li Kang in time.

Then it moved to the coach's representative seat... Enrique?

The director suddenly realized: Arsenal's coach was no longer Wenger.

A strange emotion quietly surged into my heart.

Like old friends who meet at the same place on a specific date every year, he didn't come this year, didn't come next year, and might never come again in the future.

The draw ceremony followed the routine procedures.

Pedro Pinto and the UEFA officials were still talking so much nonsense, wearing down the patience of the audience.

A young girl holding a glass cylinder walked slowly towards the main stage.

When leaving from the side of the stage, she secretly shifted her gaze to the players' representative seat.

This time, Buffon did not tease Li Kang, nor did he mention anyone's mother.

He touched his smooth chin.

"Lee, what do you think of Chelsea?"