“She watched one of my matches and insisted that I go for a trial.”

“Then just go.” As a die-hard Wimbledon fan, he never considered anything else if it was for the good of Wimbledon football. After saying this, he noticed Brian Carter looked troubled. “Are you worried that playing over there will interfere with your work here? Don’t worry about it.” He waved his hand generously. “If you really go, I’ll be cheering for you. Besides, once school starts, you’ll only be working four hours a day anyway, so it’s not much different from playing football now.”

“You can’t handle everything alone, boss. Business is so good here, sometimes even I can’t keep up…”

“I’ll hire another person, don’t worry, I won’t let you go. If you really become a Wimbledon player, you’ll be the living signboard of my pub—how could I let you go? Hey!” At this, Boss John laughed.

Brian Carter wondered, if that day really came, should he ask the boss for an endorsement fee?

“I think you should give it a try. But this is your own decision, it’s up to you in the end. If you want to go, then go, don’t worry about me. If you don’t want to, I have nothing to say. Don’t feel any pressure just because I’m a Wimbledon fan and your boss, okay, Chu?”

Looking at this kind-faced boss, Brian Carter nodded. “I’m not under any pressure, boss.” Because I don’t want to go at all, he added silently in his heart.

Boss John patted Brian Carter on the shoulder and walked away without another word. He was eager to discuss the future of the new Wimbledon with his old buddies.

Chapter 6: Two Sides of a Coin (Part 2)

From then on, as long as no one was ordering drinks, Brian Carter stood behind the bar, playing with a one-pound coin in his hand. He kept flipping the coin and catching it, his eyes fixed on the spinning coin in the air, the Queen’s profile and the number one flashing alternately.

Distant memories flashed before his eyes.

The heads side of the coin.

“Tian Tian, do you like playing football?” Dad bent down and asked him.

The young Brian Carter nodded.

A happy smile appeared on Dad’s face. “Then how about Dad takes you to learn football?”

“Okay!” The crisp voice of a child seemed to still echo in his ears.

The tails side of the coin.

“I’m telling you, today your task is not to score goals. Today, my requirement is for you to hit the goalpost. Hitting the post is harder than scoring, and I want to train your shooting accuracy this way.” The coach gave these instructions during halftime. Everyone was surprised by this arrangement, but no one said anything—they were used to obeying this head coach.

What puzzled Brian Carter was that he couldn’t remember what this coach’s face looked like, not even his surname. That face had no features, nothing at all, just like a blank tile in mahjong.

“Let me make it clear: if anyone scores, not only will there be no bonus, but you’ll also be fined!” the blank-faced coach said sternly.

The other teammates played cautiously, afraid of accidentally scoring. But Brian Carter was unconvinced: the opponents were weak, they should win this match, so why hold back? In the 71st minute, he charged into the box and headed a corner kick from a teammate straight into the opponent’s goal. After scoring, he celebrated wildly, not noticing the coach’s face darkening like ink.

Heads.

“Who told you to score? Who told you to score? You little fool! You’re never this active during corners, so what are you trying to pull today?!” The blank-faced coach roared in anger, having just smashed a chair nearby.

Brian Carter stood facing the furious coach, neck stiff, chest out, silent. The teammates nearby watched in fear, some with a fleeting look of schadenfreude in their eyes.

“From now on, don’t even think about playing in matches again!!” After a round of scolding, the coach threw out this harsh sentence and turned to leave, not forgetting to kick over a few bottles of mineral water at his feet.

Tails.

“Drop out? Fine, if you’re not playing football anymore, there’s no need for a player certificate, right?” The blank-faced coach said coldly to his father. “If you want to transfer, let the other side pay for the transfer. I won’t say more—three hundred thousand, pay up and I’ll release him and give the certificate. If not, forget it.”

Dad wanted to transfer him to another football school, and had already made arrangements. It was said that the new school had a good reputation. But when they returned to this football school to get his player certificate, they were met with such unreasonable demands.

“You really think your son is a child prodigy? Let me tell you, if it weren’t for the kickbacks you gave, with your son’s level—can’t do anything but run—he wouldn’t even get to play on my team…”

“Bang!”

Brian Carter stared in shock as his usually mild-tempered father punched the endlessly chattering coach in the face, a thin line of blood spurting out as the coach’s body jerked backward…

Heads.