On August 7, the Liberty Stadium was packed to capacity.
Ever since Swansea had announced that ho league tickets would be free for the next two seasons, supporters had rushed to the club to register for mbership.
Aside from forr season-ticket holders, who had priority, other supporters had to register first, then confirm the day before a match that they would attend.
If soone suddenly had business and could not co, the club would then allocate the ticket to another supporter.
It was very difficult for away supporters to exploit the system and get free tickets.
Unless they had registered their mbership details with Swansea before the season, and could also accept sitting in the stands surrounded on all sides by Swansea fans, then they might manage to get a free ticket. But basically, no away supporter would do such a thing.
Whether for convenience or safety, away supporters usually travelled to away matches together in organized groups, and their tickets were bought collectively.
No one wanted to be isolated.
There would be no proper atmosphere for watching the match, and there would also be concerns over safety.
The Liberty Stadium's attendance instantly reached full capacity.
Lynn's reforms had pushed the club's stadium usage to its limit.
At the sa ti, it would also drive growth in retail and service industries around the stadium.
These were all things Lynn had expected. He was not surprised at all.
After all, the Third Division did not receive much attention, so there was naturally no pre-match press conference.
Before the match began, Lynn gave the players their pre-match team talk in the dressing room.
Seeing everyone looking energetic and sharp, Lynn smiled and asked, "Do you like the new kit and equipnt?"
Cromwell jumped on the spot and said, "Feels like we should be going off to fight an interstellar war! Hahaha."
Although Swansea currently had no kit or equipnt sponsor, Lynn had still specifically asked Mo Yuan to contact Nike. He had Nike send professional designers to Swansea City to make custom shirts, boots, and shin pads for every player.
These things might seem small, but in the end, they did affect matches and training.
Every player had a different body shape. Perhaps two players could both wear the sa general size or style of shirt, but that did not an both would wear it comfortably.
The differences in boots and shin pads were even greater.
After receiving custom-made kit and equipnt, every player was excited and cherished them greatly. This made them even more grateful to Lynn.
They had never seen such a considerate and generous owner-manager.
Lynn would be frugal where money should be saved, but when money needed to be spent, he was never stingy.
After the batch of kits and equipnt was customized, Mo Yuan also told Nike's representative: "If you're interested in sponsoring Swansea, then continue providing these services to us for free in the long term. In the future, we will give priority to working with you."
Naturally, the Nike representative did not agree. He rely exchanged polite, empty words with Mo Yuan.
Mo Yuan did not force it either. In his heart, he simply thought: we'll see.
Lynn's gaze swept across all the players. He put away his relaxed expression and said solemnly, "We are a brand-new team. I hope you understand and recognize this.
"The new season begins today. Our true test has arrived.
"I will not demand that you win every match, because we have not yet reached our best. At least, we have not reached the best level in the Third Division.
"But we have ti.
"There are forty-six league matches in the Third Division. The ti I will give you is six matches.
"In the first six matches, we can use real competition to gel as a team. Do not worry too much about making mistakes. As long as we summarize and reflect after making mistakes, then correct them, that is enough.
"I will not put pressure on you, and I hope teammates do not put pressure on one another either.
"We are a team. Mutual tolerance is the foundation.
"But I require one thing from you: you must have the heart to fight for victory and never give up. These will accompany you through your entire professional careers. They are the most important things.
"If one day you lose those two things, then your football will be dead.
"All right. Rest a little more, then go out and play. Rember, don't put too much pressure on yourselves."
After saying that, Lynn left the dressing room.
Captain Cromwell also encouraged his teammates. He smiled and shouted to everyone, "Lads, the real war has begun! Let's go out there and smash every enemy together!"
Ibrahimović smiled and said, "Stop shouting, Oliver. Even if we win today, the opponents won't lie down and do push-ups."
Cromwell raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't matter. As long as we win, I'll be happy!"
Ibrahimović shrugged. "Obviously."
In the tunnel leading from the dressing room to the pitch, Lynn suddenly began breathing faster.
For the players, this was the first match of the new season.
For Lynn, however, this was the first battle of his managerial career.
In the end, he was still a coaching rookie. He had never directed a single official match from the touchline.
During Swansea's friendlies, the opponents had all been semi-professional teams, so winning had not been particularly difficult. After all, those opponents were not full-ti footballers.
Now they were facing a professional team. The difficulty would certainly be much greater, especially since Barnet had finished sixth in the Third Division last season.
When there were still three tres left before the exit, Lynn stopped.
He took a deep breath and realized his heart was still beating sowhat fast.
He continued closing his eyes and breathing deeply.
After three breaths, his heartbeat finally cald down.
Then he muttered to himself, "I will not let those who lifted up fall. And those who tried to bring down — even if I die, I will not let them stand again."
The images of Lin Jiajie, Tang Yue, Irene, Mo Yuan, Benn, every mber of the coaching staff, and every player flashed through his mind.
A gentle smile appeared at the corners of Lynn's mouth.
Then his mind flashed to the mocking words written about him in Fleet Street's major newspapers and tabloids, Ferguson and Wenger ignoring him, Houllier's disgust, and the way various clubs had shut him out and humiliated him.
They had told him to clean toilets, manage the grass, beco a security guard...
The smile at the corners of Lynn's mouth changed from gentle to cruel.
He clenched his fist slightly.
He would stand at the gates of those clubs and appear before them again.
When that day ca, he would no longer be a humble job seeker.
He would return every bit of humiliation they had given him.
He would make everyone listen to his voice.
He would make it so no one under heaven dared ignore him again.
Fleet Street was not wrong.
He really was a madman.
Lynn opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp as a blade.
He lifted his head and strode out of the players' tunnel. The afternoon sunlight shone down inside the Liberty Stadium as Lynn appeared by the touchline.
In the stands, many supporters rose and cheered, applauding Lynn in greeting.
Over the past two months, Lynn's visible and tangible investnt in the club had completely changed the supporters' stance.
Lynn saw a banner unfurled in the South Stand.
It read: Lynn, do us proud!
He raised both hands above his head and applauded toward all four stands like a star.
That was right.
Right now, he was Swansea's biggest star.
In the South Stand, five representatives of the supporters' groups — Richard Cork, Kevin Reeves, Jason Smith, Matthew Bode, and Fred Davis — stood in two rows, smiling as they looked down at Lynn on the pitch.
They were true die-hard supporters who loved Swansea.
Swansea had been reborn step by step from the edge of destruction, and recently the club had also shown the outside world its young and energetic side. Naturally, they wanted to give sothing back to Lynn.
At a ti like this, what the club needed was calm and support.
The supporters would naturally give their full backing.
The banner had been their suggestion.
Davis adjusted his glasses and said, "I've never seen Swansea's ho ground look this spectacular."
Reeves, from the working class, smiled as if it were obvious. "Free football, of course it'll attract supporters into the ground. Even watching TV with a stolen signal still costs electricity, doesn't it?"
Bode, an investnt manager with his own unique perspective, shook his head. "Lynn is playing the long ga. It's free now so that supporters will spend more money in the future."
Taxi driver Smith did not care about any of that. "If Swansea can beco stronger, even if we only reach the First Division, I'd be willing to pay more."
The highly respected Cork nodded in agreent. "No matter what long-term plan he has, the most important thing now is to win the match. As for the rest, who cares?"
The others nodded one after another, looking forward to seeing Swansea's new lineup make its debut.
After thanking the supporters around the stadium, Lynn saw visiting manager Ray Kennedy. The other man did not give him a pleasant look.
This scene would probably beco a classic image of the new Third Division season.
The forr Swansea manager had brought three of his old players back to the Liberty Stadium with Barnet in the very first match of the new season. And facing them was Swansea's owner — the man who had driven them out.
Lynn's eyes did not linger on Ray Kennedy at all.
He walked toward the ho dugout.
Behind and to the side of the ho technical area were the press seats.
Every influential dia outlet in Swansea had sent reporters to cover the match live.
ITV Wales' David Livingstone was among them. He watched coldly from the side, waiting to see what kind of performance Lynn's "circus" could produce on the pitch.
Raleigh held his notebook, ready to record key monts from the match at any ti.
Cath Carter of BBC Wales secretly made a cheering gesture toward Lynn when he looked over, but Lynn's expression did not change at all, as if he had not seen it.
In the VIP seats, Irene leaned against the wall by the aisle, chewing gum as she looked down at the pitch.
In the seats diagonally in front of her, Lin Jiajie and Tang Yue were both wearing Swansea shirts as they ca to watch and support the club.
Tang Yue held a digital cara and kept taking photos of Lynn, who stood handsoly and sharply dressed in his suit by the touchline.
She kept saying to Lin Jiajie, "Our son looks so handso today!"
Lin Jiajie smiled without saying anything.
He had always thought Lynn was handso.
His own seed, after all.
Lynn stood still by the touchline, facing the pitch, quietly waiting for the match to begin.
When the starting players of both teams walked onto the pitch, the Swansea supporters in the stands briefly fell into a daze.
Because the figures they were more familiar with were clearly on Barnet's side.
If forr manager Ray Kennedy had not been standing in front of the away dugout, they might even have forgotten that Kennedy had already left.
Three players in Barnet's starting lineup had returned to the Liberty Stadium: centre-back Mike Howard, goalkeeper Roger Freestone, and attacking midfielder Jonathan Curtis.
During the pre-match handshake, the three Barnet players looked at the packed Liberty Stadium. Although they were surprised by the high attendance, they were even more excited.
When Mike Howard shook hands with the young Ibrahimović, a cold smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. Through gritted teeth, he said, "You little brats. We're going to destroy you today."
Ibrahimović froze.
He had not expected the first opponent he t in English football to be this arrogant.
He did not know, nor was he interested in, Howard's identity or the love-turned-hatred entanglent between them and Swansea.
But that did not stop Ibrahimović from striking back directly.
He gave the twenty-five-year-old Howard a savage grin and said, "Old man, you've provoked soone you absolutely shouldn't have."
Howard glared fiercely at Ibrahimović, then lifted his chin slightly, as if he could no longer wait for the match to begin.
When the players of both teams stood in their respective halves, ready for kick-off, Swansea's starting XI appeared in front of every spectator.
It really was young.
A starting 4-4-2.
Goalkeeper: Glendower.
Defenders: Danny Gabbidon, Brunel, Friedrich, Tobias Rau.
Midfielders: Jas Cook, Cromwell, Pedretti, Grosso.
Forwards: Ibrahimović, Villa.
Among the starting eleven, only Gabbidon and Grosso were over twenty years old.
The youngest player was the seventeen-year-old Cromwell.
And he was Swansea's captain.
On the touchline, Lynn suddenly raised his head and looked up at the sky. His gaze seed as though it could pierce the clouds and reach the heavens.
On the southwestern coast of the island of Great Britain in the Western Hemisphere, the Swans were finally about to stir up storms across the footballing world.
Lynn withdrew his gaze and fixed his eyes on the centre circle.
After the referee blew his whistle, Ibrahimović tapped the ball to Villa.
War began!
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