Ninian Park was thick with smoke and fire.
On the pitch, Swansea and Cardiff City, two Welsh football clubs, were perfectly interpreting the classic style of English football.
Heavy physical contact. Direct balls. A tempo that made the blood rush. Danger rising wave after wave.
In the 31st minute, Swansea sent in a cross from the flank. Jas Cook delivered an excellent headed chance for Ibrahimović, but after beating Rhys Weston in the aerial duel, Zlatan sohow headed it miles over the bar!
Lynn was watching from the touchline, and he was already close to losing his temper.
It was not only because Ibrahimović had missed another golden opportunity. From the start of the match until now, Ibrahimović had looked distracted, almost irresponsible with his decision-making. After every attack broke down, he kept muttering to himself on the pitch, and no one knew what he was thinking.
Two minutes later, Cardiff City created a corner.
Gareth Whalley arrived from deep to et Jason Bowen's cutback from the byline and unleashed a powerful shot, only for Owen Glendall to turn it behind.
The Swans supporters applauded and cheered Glendall's brilliant save. This young goalkeeper's growth this season had followed a similar curve to the team's: clearly upward.
Swansea defended the corner, with Friedrich directing his teammates in the box to mark tightly.
Gary Croft delivered the corner. The ball flew straight toward the near-post area. Alan Lee shook off Albrechtsen and charged toward the front post for a header, while Graham Kavanagh, who had already been positioned there, also jumped to attack the ball!
Both Cardiff players had a chance to shoot, but they ended up fighting for the sa ball.
Kavanagh moved a step toward the drop point and had just jumped, while Alan Lee ca charging in from behind and to the side, leaping high into the air.
The two interfered with each other, and Alan Lee's header flew straight into the stands.
After landing, the two n looked at each other. Kavanagh's face was full of confusion, as if questioning why Lee had tried to steal his ball. Alan Lee looked helpless, as if saying that if Kavanagh had moved aside, he would have headed it in easily.
On the touchline, Alan Cork watched his own players sabotage each other in attack. Frustrated, he half-turned and kicked at the air. He struck nothing, rely venting the irritation in his chest.
Two minutes later, Gareth Whalley nearly sparked a full-blown confrontation when he went flying into a challenge on Pedretti.
Pedretti went down injured. Friedrich was the first to rush over, roaring at Whalley, "You did that on purpose, you bastard! You'd better not show up in front of again, or I'll break you!"
The twenty-five-year-old Irishman Gareth Whalley was not about to be scared by Friedrich, who was much younger than him. As he backed away, he made a crying gesture at Friedrich in mockery.
But as he retreated, he suddenly bumped into sothing and nearly fell.
He steadied himself and turned his head, only to see Ibrahimović's icy expression.
Zlatan's towering fra and cold gaze made Whalley feel a flicker of fear, even though Ibrahimović was also much younger than him.
The referee showed Gareth Whalley a yellow card, then allowed Swansea's dical staff onto the pitch to check Pedretti's injury.
Lynn's face was dark on the touchline. When he saw the physio signal for Nielsen to warm up, he understood. By the ti Nielsen finished warming up, Pedretti had already left the pitch, leaving Swansea temporarily down to ten n.
In the 36th minute, Nielsen changed into his kit and ca to Lynn's side. Lynn wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, "Cardiff think they can bully us because we're young. Their challenges are too obvious. We need to hit back strongly. You're going on to give us that power. Tell Cardiff City that Swansea are not so weak that we don't know how to fight back."
Nielsen nodded seriously, though deep down, he was sowhat dissatisfied.
He was currently the second-oldest player in Swansea's squad after Grosso, yet he was only a rotation substitute.
He could play in central midfield or on the right, but Cromwell and Jas Cook firmly held the starting positions. He was five years older than those two Welsh players!
He believed his ability was stronger than theirs, yet Lynn had never given him a starting role.
Still, he would not carry that dissatisfaction onto the pitch. He hoped to change Lynn's mind with his own excellent performances and earn a place in the starting lineup.
Nielsen entered the match full of fighting spirit.
He received a yellow card almost as soon as he ca on!
When Cardiff's Gareth Whalley had the ball, Nielsen launched into a fierce sliding tackle and took him down. Everyone saw it as Swansea's imdiate retaliation for Whalley's earlier foul!
The referee showed Nielsen a yellow card without hesitation, but Nielsen's expression did not change.
Swansea's players also supported his action.
The match was already full of gunpowder. There was no helping it. At a mont like this, only force could be t with force, and Swansea had to use stronger thods to make Cardiff rein themselves in.
On the pitch, gentlemanliness and restraint could not be begged from an opponent.
Only when the opponent feared you would you beco relatively safe.
Gareth Whalley was not injured, but Nielsen's ruthless tackle left him shaken.
He beca more restrained.
Two minutes later, when he received Maxwell's pass again, he hesitated in possession.
Nielsen stood right in front of him.
Nielsen knew what he had to do, but he was not a reckless fool. He had already intimidated Cardiff. There was no need to keep challenging the referee's limit with obvious, crude fouls.
The mont he stood in front of Gareth Whalley, the pressure had already taken effect.
While Whalley hesitated, soone rushed diagonally past him from behind and poked the ball away in stride!
Cromwell!
Swansea's young captain appeared unexpectedly, stole the ball, and imdiately launched an attack.
Whalley reacted and cursed himself for hesitating. After chasing for two steps, he saw Cromwell play the ball diagonally back to Tobias Rau.
After releasing the pass, Cromwell stopped abruptly and sprinted toward the attacking half.
Tobias Rau was bold on the wing. His first touch after receiving Cromwell's pass was to knock the ball far ahead!
Jason Bowen had not even reacted before Tobias Rau flew past him along the touchline like a gust of wind.
Tobias Rau charged past Jason Bowen with unconcealed arrogance in his heart. As he passed, he even turned his head and glanced at Bowen, thinking to himself:
'Old man, can you catch ?'
Bowen turned to chase, already too late, but he did not give up. His heart hardened, and he rushed forward, ready to slide in.
He had no chance of touching the ball. The tackle was aid at injuring Tobias Rau!
Fortunately, Tobias Rau had already prepared himself. As Bowen slid in, Rau passed the ball ahead to Grosso.
Then, as Bowen's leg ca flying low across the turf, Rau jumped into the air. When his foot landed and Bowen's arm clipped him, he "easily" lost his balance. Tobias Rau fell to the ground, but he landed right on top of Bowen!
Bowen cried out, clearly hurt by Tobias Rau's weight. Furious, he tried to shove Rau away. Tobias Rau quickly got to his feet and even bent down with exaggerated politeness to ask, "Hey, are you all right?"
Bowen shouted at him, "You son of a bitch! You landed on on purpose!"
Tobias Rau's offered hand was slapped away by Bowen. As if he had only tried to be kind and had been rejected, he turned and left.
Once he walked back onto the pitch and looked at Bowen, who was rubbing his shoulder and did not seem injured, he thought to himself:
'You're the son of a bitch, idiot.'
Not many people paid attention to Tobias Rau and Jason Bowen tumbling out of play together, because everyone's focus was on the ball.
After Tobias Rau passed to Grosso, Swansea's attack had already created a threat that made Cardiff's defense tremble!
Cardiff had lost the ball in midfield and attack, and under Cromwell's direction, Swansea's transition was extrely fast. Cardiff were caught off guard!
Tony Vidmar rushed forward, trying to cut out Grosso's possession imdiately, but the mont Grosso received the ball, he knocked it inside with one touch!
Then he slipped past Vidmar and charged toward the byline. The ball sent toward the central area in front of the box was received by Ibrahimović, who had co short. Ibrahimović also played it first ti, slipping a diagonal pass toward the byline and completing a beautiful wall pass with Grosso!
The Swans fans in the stands were intoxicated by the move.
Cromwell, Tobias Rau, Grosso, Ibrahimović — from Cromwell's interception onward, this attack had featured both the visual shock of Tobias Rau's long-striding burst past his man and the smooth beauty of Grosso and Ibrahimović's one-two.
Swansea's attack was already completely different from what it had been at the start of the season!
On the touchline, Lynn narrowed his eyes slightly.
Now it all depended on the final action.
What would Grosso do?
Everyone was curious.
Cardiff's defenders imdiately retreated!
Scott Young loudly ordered his teammates to fall back.
He feared that Grosso would deliver a cross behind the defensive line. If that happened, they would be too passive trying to turn and interfere with Villa.
Grosso calmly stopped the ball near the byline and raised his head to glance at the situation in the box.
Cardiff's defensive line had almost retreated into the six-yard box, leaving him no space for a low cross.
But because Swansea's attack had been so fast, and because Cardiff's back line had dropped so deep, a huge pocket of space opened up in front of the defensive line.
Grosso made an imdiate decision and cut the ball diagonally back toward the top of the penalty arc.
Defensive midfielder Graham Kavanagh had just followed Ibrahimović back into the box. When he turned to look toward the edge of the area, he saw Swansea's young captain Cromwell arriving at full speed!
Finding space was Cromwell's specialty.
His rapid progress over the past half season had been inseparable from how well he used his brain. This competitive emperor from Swansea's Mansel Street possessed excellent athletic talent, but the talent Lynn admired most was his ability to read the ga!
That was one of the key factors separating ordinary players from top-level players.
Cromwell rushed forward and struck it first ti!
He hit the shot with the outside of his foot. With no one marking or interfering with him, he could put his full power through the ball and control his technique properly.
The ball flew toward Cardiff's goal like a cannon shot. Goalkeeper Alexander launched himself across and sohow got to it!
He blocked the ball with one hand!
A wave of astonishnt swept through the stadium.
It was a save spectacular enough to shine even on the highest stage!
But the next second, all his effort went to waste.
The ball he had stopped dropped inside the penalty area, and Villa, with his clever movent and predatory instincts in front of goal, easily stabbed the rebound into the net!
Cardiff's defenders were still only Division Three players. When dealing with chaos in the box, their marking was prone to lapses.
They had all focused on Cromwell's shot, allowing Villa to disappear from their marking range.
After scoring, Villa ran toward the away end with an easy, relaxed posture, drawing wild cheers from the Swans supporters.
Everyone loved Villa. This Spanish forward had already overtaken Ibrahimović on the scoring charts and beco Swansea's top scorer!
His instincts in front of goal and his polished, delicate technical ability amazed Swansea's fans. It seed Swansea had never had such an outstanding young player before.
Because of that, even though Cardiff City had Earnshaw, a forward praised as one of Wales's rare young talents of recent years, Swansea fans felt neither envy nor jealousy.
Because they had David Villa!
"Villa scores! A rebound inside the penalty area sends the ball into Cardiff City's net!
"Oh, Neil Alexander must be heartbroken. His save from Oliver Cromwell's long-range shot could have been the best save of the week, but David Villa's follow-up has made it aningless. Cardiff's defenders lost Villa, and as for Villa's performance, there is only one thing to say: he stands head and shoulders above this Division Three stage!
"Swansea lead Cardiff City 2-0 here at Ninian Park!
"What can Alan Cork do? What can Cardiff City do? If they lose this match, Swansea will pull eight points clear of them. Is Welsh football about to change? Will Swansea surpass Cardiff City and beco the heart of Welsh football?"
Amid the noise of celebration and the silence of frustration, Lynn raised both fists high on the touchline, his face carrying a proud smile.
He was proud of Villa.
He was happy for Swansea.
Alan Cork looked utterly overwheld. Inadvertently, he glanced toward Lynn, only to see Lynn staring at him with bright eyes and a contemptuous smile tugging at his lips.
Just like before the match, Cork saw Lynn open his mouth and silently form a few words.
"You. Are. Going. To. Lose."
Alan Cork imdiately turned away.
For a split second, his expression beca ferocious.
He hated this young Swansea manager to the bone!
He had never seen anyone bully others like this!
Lynn was bullying him.
When Lynn had been bullied, had anyone shown him rcy?
Fine.
No one had.
Then there was no need for rcy.
When he could crush an opponent, he would not rely take victory and three points, then politely finish the match in peace.
No!
He wanted not only the victory.
He wanted to shatter the opponent's dignity.
Because he was an invader.
A conqueror.
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