The long and narrow training base was split in two by a small road called "Wilford Lane." The slightly larger area to the north was the youth team training base, one of the top youth academies in all of England. The smaller area to the south of the road was the Forest first team's training base, also known as "Wilford."

The rain in England during winter isn't heavy, but it's quite annoying because it never seems to stop. Dunn didn't really mind, though—after all, both his hometown and the city of Chengdu, where he worked after graduation, would also start raining nonstop as soon as winter arrived.

※※※

The old gatekeeper of the base, Ian McDonald, looked curiously at Tony Dunn, whose pant legs were soaked. "Tony, what are you doing here?"

Dunn thought the question was rather odd. "I'm here to train, of course."

McDonald said to him, "But Tony, today is January 2nd, 2003. The team is on holiday—New Year's break."

Dunn patted his forehead. He had completely forgotten about that.

Seeing him pat his forehead, McDonald shook his head gently. He must have thought that Dunn's head still wasn't right after yesterday's collision.

"I was just wondering why it's so... so quiet here. Happy New Year." Dunn smiled awkwardly at McDonald and turned to leave. At that moment, he saw a dark red Audi A6 pull up beside him.

The back door opened, and an overweight old man got out. Dunn's subconscious told him this was his boss, the club chairman—Mr. Nigel Doherty. Following him out was a middle-aged man, probably not much older than himself, with a tall, fit build, dressed in a well-fitted casual jacket, holding an umbrella that mostly shielded the chairman.

Doherty saw Dunn standing by the roadside and warmly opened his arms to hug him. "Tony, I saw the news yesterday. Forgive me for not calling you—my son just got back from America to visit me. Are you alright?"

Dunn was a bit flattered by his boss's attitude and quickly replied, "I think I should be... alright. Thank you, Mr. Chairman."

Nigel let go of Dunn, then pointed to the middle-aged man beside him and said to Dunn, "My son, Evan."

Evan Doherty reached out his hand. "Hello, nice to meet you. Coach..."

His father interrupted him, "Evan, I've told you many times. Don't say 'coach,' say 'manager.' This is England, not America."

Evan smiled apologetically at Dunn. "Sorry, Mr. Manager."

Dunn also reached out his hand. "Uh, it's fine. I'm glad to meet you too, Mr. Doherty."

The chairman chimed in, "My son just got back from America. He grew up there and actually feels a bit out of place in England now. He's basically an 'American' who grew up watching the NBA."

Faced with this teasing, Evan just smiled helplessly and didn't argue.

Standing in front of his boss, Dunn thought of the red note on his fridge and felt he needed to explain yesterday's defeat, even if it meant lying. "Uh, Mr. Chairman... I'm sorry about yesterday's loss..."

Unexpectedly, Nigel put his hand on his shoulder and comforted him instead. "Tony, I don't like losing either, but this isn't a responsibility you should bear alone. These past two seasons..." At this point, the chairman's cloudy eyes looked off into the distant sky, muttered a curse, then returned his gaze. "Just do your best, don't overthink it. I won't put any pressure on you. Happy New Year, Tony." He patted Dunn's shoulder lightly, then turned and walked with his son through the gates of the training base.

Dunn stood at the entrance, watching the chairman's stooped figure and his son Evan supporting him and holding the umbrella. He couldn't quite describe what he was feeling. He had accepted the reality of being a football manager as quickly as possible, but emotionally, he couldn't connect with this team in just one day. He didn't know much about Nottingham Forest, except that it had once been glorious. He wasn't even a Forest fan.

But those two gentle pats from the old man had warmed his heart. As a "stranger in a foreign land," that warmth was especially precious. He decided to give it his all and do his best—not just to win a bet with those drunks, but also to live up to the chairman's trust in him—even though the old man didn't know that the person he trusted wasn't the Tony Dunn he was familiar with.

"Happy New Year, old man..."

※※※

After leaving the Wilford training base, Dunn wandered the streets aimlessly, with no sense of direction. The rain had stopped, so he simply used his umbrella as a walking stick.

There were several times more pedestrians on the street than when he had first gone out. It was a holiday, after all, so it made sense. People were out in groups, shopping and having fun. It was New Year's, after all. But this festive atmosphere didn't belong to Dunn; he wasn't in the mood to celebrate right now.