Zlatan was a straightforward man, and precisely because of that, Lynn knew how to talk to him.
The best way was to be direct. Say everything openly. Do not bury thoughts in the heart.
That would only create a real rift between them.
With every player and coach watching the confrontation between Zlatan and Lynn in the dressing room, the atmosphere seed tense from the outside, but in truth, it was not quite like that.
Once Lynn had scolded Zlatan until he had no room left to defend himself, Zlatan instead ca back to his senses.
He realized his mistake.
Looking at it from another angle, if Lynn had indulged his behavior and chosen to comfort him instead, would that really have been a good thing?
Under a manager like that, Zlatan doubted he would ever reach the level he wanted for himself.
A manager like that would have no authority. He would only know how to speak softly and compromise with players.
After calming down, Zlatan said to Lynn in front of everyone, "Boss, I'm sorry. I was wrong."
After apologizing to Lynn, he turned to all his teammates and said, "I dragged everyone down today. I'm sorry. I promise this won't happen again."
Lynn's expression softened considerably, and he nodded.
Being able to admit his mistake in public, instead of hiding behind a fake sense of pride and refusing to bow his head, at least proved that Zlatan was a real man. He had the courage to take responsibility.
Lynn said, "Since you understand where you went wrong, I won't say any more. Your two-week holiday is reduced by three days. Your leave begins tomorrow. Any problem with that?"
Zlatan shook his head, then sat down and fell silent.
The rest of the players and coaches quietly let out a breath of relief.
It seed the sudden conflict between manager and player had been resolved at the first possible mont.
Lynn turned and told everyone to take a brief rest, then began seriously laying out the tactics for the second half.
Because Swansea were down to ten n, he had to adjust the plan.
"In the second half, we focus our attacks through the left and the middle. Jas, I need you to help out defensively on the right as much as possible. We cannot concede again. Cardiff have no real attacking threat beyond crosses from the flanks, so we have to defend the wide areas better.
"Our central defending was good in the first half. They didn't create anything clear through the middle, and we need to keep that up.
"When we attack, don't overcomplicate things. Speed is still the first priority. Cardiff are still behind. They will attack, and they will commit more players forward.
"All right. Stay focused in the second half. Today is Boxing Day, and I don't want our supporters going ho empty-handed. More importantly, we need to reward ourselves with a win."
Swansea prepared seriously inside their dressing room for the second half.
In the Cardiff City dressing room, Alan Cork was delivering an impassioned speech. He wanted to fire up the team's morale.
He needed his players to defend Cardiff City's pride.
They absolutely could not lose at ho to Swansea, another Welsh club.
This Welsh derby had to be protected at all costs.
Besides, Cardiff had the extra man.
The teams changed ends for the second half.
Lynn and Alan Cork once again stood on the touchline, directing their sides.
Alan Cork was full of fighting spirit, constantly encouraging his players to attack and demanding even more aggression from them.
Lynn, however, quietly observed the match. Even with his team down to ten n, he still looked as if he had everything under control.
His presence on the touchline had changed greatly since the beginning of the season. He now gave his players confidence, while bringing a sense of pressure to the opponent.
Cardiff City attacked fiercely after the restart, and Swansea were pinned back for long spells, unable to mount any aningful counterattack.
Because they were a man down, Swansea's players had to drop deeper in order to compress the space.
There was plenty of room to attack into, but the success rate of breaking forward had dropped sharply.
In the fifty-sixth minute, Jas Cook launched a long ball from the back toward the front line. Villa went up for it, but Scott Young beat him to the header and cleared first.
Villa looked helplessly back at his teammates and gestured with his hand.
He wanted the ball played into the space behind.
Cardiff's wide attacks kept getting trapped between Swansea's full-back and wide midfielder, as if they were stuck in mud. They tried to combine through the middle and the flanks, but ever since Nielsen's fierce tackle, Gareth Whalley seed wary of him. It was as though he was afraid of being hurt as well.
In the sixty-second minute, Alan Lee was dispossessed by Cromwell tracking back near the edge of the box. Swansea imdiately launched a counterattack.
The first pass out of the back still had to go through Cromwell. The young captain, whose reading of the ga was outstanding, had his body facing his own penalty area, but he half-turned and drove the ball out toward the left flank.
Tobias Rau surged forward and once again left Jason Bowen behind. Bowen had drifted too close to the middle and had already lost the chance to protect the flank.
Rau carried the ball all the way forward. Cardiff had pushed too hard in search of an equalizer, and their defenders were far from their own goal.
As the defensive line retreated and the midfield shifted across to support the flank, Rau sent a long ball over the top.
Grosso, who had taken a short break at the end of last month, looked full of energy. He beat Tony Vidmar in a race and reached the ball near the byline. After glancing into the middle, he imdiately swept a left-footed pass into the penalty area.
Villa had beaten the offside trap, but he was too close to goal, and the ball was travelling too quickly. He could only guide it toward goal with one touch.
He sent the ball on target, but the angle was too central.
Goalkeeper Neil Alexander parried it away, and Graham Kavanagh collected the loose ball outside the box.
Swansea's fans were extrely anxious for their ten-man team. When that chance failed to go in, they let out a disappointed sigh, but soon they were applauding with all their strength, urging the team on.
Lynn paced back and forth on the touchline. He did not look restless. He was thinking about substitutions.
Soon, he used his second change.
Hanno Balitsch ca on, replacing Jas Cook, whose stamina had clearly started to fade.
When Cook ca off, he said to Lynn, "Boss, sorry, I…"
He wanted to say that he really could not run anymore, but Lynn cut him off first.
"You played well today. Go rest. Drink so water and rehydrate."
Cook nodded, went to the bench, high-fived his teammates, then sat down, wrapped himself in a warm coat, and picked up a bottle of water.
His eyes stayed fixed on the pitch. He desperately wanted the team to win.
The coaches and players all liked Jas Cook. Even those who were not especially close to him certainly did not dislike him.
After all, he was the good kid of the squad. He gave people the impression of being pure-hearted and kind, and in training he was always serious and hardworking.
If there was one thing Lynn believed Cook needed to change, it was that he had to show a little more edge.
He was too honest, almost like a blank sheet of paper. That was why Lynn had given him a stylish watch. Lynn hoped Cook would learn to express himself more, not just on the pitch.
Hardworking, reliable players were the backbone of any team, but for gifted young players with the potential to beco top stars, Lynn preferred them to have personality. Players like that stood out more easily.
Of course, ignorance and childishness should never be mistaken for personality.
After Balitsch ca on, Lynn stood on the touchline with his arms crossed, watching the match with a stern expression.
As Cardiff's players saw ti slipping away, they grew increasingly anxious.
Cromwell had nearly run himself into the ground, but his mind remained calm as he judged the flow of attack and defence.
In the seventy-second minute, after he fought Gareth Whalley near the edge of the box and both n went down, Whalley seed to think he could bully the younger player. Once the referee blew for a foul, he got up first and pointed at Cromwell's nose, scolding him.
"You'd better stop trying those little tricks!"
He had only finished one sentence when Friedrich rushed over and shoved him away.
"Try touching him again."
No matter what, Cromwell was a captain loved and supported by his teammates.
If the captain was bullied, the whole team would lose face.
But Cromwell was not the type to roll up his sleeves and fight the opponent. That was not him.
Cromwell inspired his teammates. He worked to make himself better. He used his football intelligence to help the team turn difficult situations around or break through enemy lines. But nobody should expect him to curse, threaten, or get physical to lift morale.
That was another kind of captain.
After Friedrich stepped in, the referee imdiately ca over and warned him. Cromwell went up to explain and pleaded for Friedrich, but the referee still showed Friedrich a yellow card.
The ball, however, belonged to Swansea, because the referee had ruled that Whalley committed the foul in the collision with Cromwell.
Gareth Whalley did not clash with Friedrich, but he took it personally. The reason he avoided a direct confrontation was simple: he was already on a yellow.
The referee's control of the match had truly beco weak. At this point, he could only rely on stricter decisions to suppress the players' anger.
The standard of officiating between the first and second halves was worlds apart. It was almost as though a different referee had taken charge.
After the seventy-fifth minute, Cardiff beca even more desperate. More of their players pushed forward, but their attacks still failed to produce good results.
When their crosses were sent in without first creating depth, Swansea's two centre-backs could easily head them clear head-on. Cardiff then tried to return to ground combinations.
When Leighton Maxwell cut inside toward the box in front of Gabbidon, his intention on the dribble was far too obvious.
Cromwell, already running on fus, anticipated his path in advance. He stepped diagonally into the channel and took the ball off Maxwell's foot. Then he carried it one step toward the flank, glanced ahead, adjusted both his angle and the direction of his body, and made what would be his final pass of the day.
He drove the ball straight down the line.
After making the pass, he collapsed to the ground.
His right leg had cramped.
Hanno Balitsch ran toward the right side of midfield, with Gary Croft in front of him. Croft wanted to step up and win the ball imdiately, but Balitsch was clearly going to touch it first.
Balitsch's first touch was to knock the ball diagonally inside. That allowed him to brush past Croft head-on and burst through the defensive line.
From the ground behind him, Cromwell saw Balitsch knock the ball beyond Croft and finally relaxed a little. At least the team could use this chance to attack. He shifted from sitting up to lying down, trying to find a more comfortable position and ease the pain in his cramping right leg.
Balitsch accelerated after beating Croft. Villa was up front, holding the defensive line and searching for his chance.
When substitute centre-back Chris Barker moved across to cover the flank, the gap in the centre-back line in front of Villa widened.
Villa imdiately made a diagonal run into the open right-sided channel.
Balitsch saw the run, and with the space so open, the pass was simple. He pushed the ball with the inside of his foot into Villa's path.
Villa took possession slightly to the right of the box. Cardiff's two remaining defenders, Scott Young and Tony Vidmar, both rushed toward him.
El Guaje drove into the penalty area. Scott Young charged diagonally across his front, while Vidmar moved in from the side to block the angle for Villa to change direction.
Villa had shooting space inside the box, but the angle was too narrow. Goalkeeper Alexander had also moved to cover the near post.
So Villa calmly pulled the ball back.
After stopping sharply, he looked up and assessed the situation behind him.
Cromwell could no longer sprint, but Swansea still had Nielsen and Grosso coming from midfield.
The first player Villa spotted was Nielsen arriving from deep.
Without hesitation, he rolled the ball diagonally across.
Nielsen's eyes were filled with stubborn determination. He rushed onto the ball and guided a shot toward goal.
Vidmar, scrambling across, lost his balance and stumbled to the turf. Alexander charged from the right post toward the left, but he was too far away to make a difference.
Nielsen's placed shot found the bottom-left corner.
It looked almost effortless.
Ninian Park fell into dead silence.
The Bluebirds fans lowered their heads in despair. There was nothing left to say about Cardiff's performance.
The situation on the pitch was clear to everyone.
Swansea were stronger.
Even with ten n, Swansea were stronger.
Of course, that did not an Swansea would have taken the lead from 0–0 if they had started with ten n. But once Cardiff had the extra man, their performance had still disappointed their supporters.
Nielsen sprinted away to celebrate, overco with emotion. His expression was almost twisted.
He raced toward the away supporters' stand and roared at the Swansea fans.
His celebration was so explosive that it seed almost unusual, as if there were endless grievances inside him that needed to be poured out, needed to be understood.
Perhaps that was the truest reflection of Nielsen's heart.
Frustration.
Resentnt.
He believed he was a thoroughbred being kept in the stable. He believed he should be on the stage, not on the bench. He should be part of the starting side, a focal point, fighting through obstacles and breaking down defences for the team, proving his own value.
Now, he had scored.
It would not make him famous overnight, but he hoped it would earn him respect from the outside world and more attention within the team.
"Swansea score again! They are back to a two-goal lead!
"Mark Nielsen, who ca on for Pedretti, has scored!
"This was a whirlwind counterattack from Swansea. Cromwell won the ball in the defensive third and once again launched the move. This young captain has beco an irreplaceable organiser in Swansea's attack. Once again, he started a lethal move at the first possible mont!
"The fresh-legged Balitsch received the ball in midfield, burst past Croft, and delivered it to Villa after his perfectly tid run. Unfortunately for Villa, he was not facing goal directly, or he might have gone clean through. But it didn't matter. Inside the box, he drew two Cardiff defenders to him before calmly setting up Nielsen, who arrived from deep to score.
"This Swansea move deserves applause from everyone watching!
"Three-one!
"Swansea now look almost certain to take victory away from Cardiff!"
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