Hardly any change was discernible on Hydward's face, and he calmly answered all the difficult questions.

"Are you the head coach?" These short questions are the most lethal, and such concise questions always delay his response. When trying to think about it, if you expand on it, you end up in the scenario that the journalists set for you. Journalists in England, especially football, are some of the toughest people in the world to deal with, and they have a natural way of speaking with psychological warfare experts like Alex Ferguson and Jose Mourinho.

For example, in the just-concluded Premier League, there was a headline that read: "Alex Ferguson says Manchester United are interested in signing Juan Mata". The question was asked: 'Who will be the biggest threat to the Chelsea squad?' The lord replied, "If he played normally, I would say Mata", and the next day the headlines became like this. Ferguson did have an interest in Mata, but it was definitely not at this time, and he sent a text message to the then Chelsea boss in a frustrated manner, to which Villas-Boas only replied: "I see it, don't care." "The Portuguese are already difficult enough at this moment, and the lord does not want to trouble him again, and this kind of news is rolling every ten minutes.

British journalists are a bunch of beasts that eat people and don't spit out bones, and the news about Hydward is their most delicious food.

The press conference lasted for a while, and Bristol City manager Mirren was a little gloating at first, and he was happy to watch the excitement, but as time went on, he was also frightened by the battle in the hall. The question was almost like a machine gun, "da-da-da", "da-da-da", constantly throwing out, every sentence with bad intentions.

Millen has led the England women's national team all year round, with good results, and only took over a men's football club for the first time at the age of 47. He had some sympathy for the young man next to him, and maybe Hydward could try to lead the women's team, so the pressure would not be so great.

England's women's football team has an average attendance of just over 1,000 per game, which will be a little higher at the World Cup, while Bristol City, the Championship, has more than 20,000 people.

Mirren glanced at the club officials, and the buddy was stunned to announce that the press conference was over.

Edward politely shook hands with the Bristol City manager, thanked him for ending the farce early, and waved goodbye to the reporters in the room. England is a country that pays attention to gentlemanly culture, and British journalists are not ****, and when the officials announce the end, they are very interested in sorting out their own manuscripts and do not look for trouble. Today is a day of luck for Lady Luck, and everyone returns with a full load.

The Portsmouth manager is a difficult guy to deal with, with few valuable words, a sentence repeated over and over again, changing the order and inverting the pile, he can talk about any topic in the game, but who cares about the small Championship? Whether you are an impostor or not is the focus of the fans' attention, and the Daily Mail reporter is going to send out a questionnaire after the game, which they often do.

……………………

……………………

"Mr. Hydward, is it?"

In the hallway of the club, two men in black suits, white shirts and black bow ties stopped Hydward, who was going back to the locker room, dressed like the movie "The Matrix", just a pair of sunglasses.

"It's me?" There was something strange about him.

"We are the ...... of the Management Committee of the Football Association of England"

Hearing the other party report such a long name, Hydward was shocked, everything has nothing to do with the FA. I think it was his incident that alarmed the higher-ups, and the day has finally arrived.

"Mr. Head Coach, I think you also know what we are here for, the newspapers and the Internet are full of your news, and for your innocence, the association needs you to provide the necessary supporting materials."

"Am I being fired from the club?" Ward replied as he asked, pointing to himself.

"Of course not, we are just routine and need you to show the documents and files issued by FIFA." The tone of the two people was a little unkind, "Please don't interfere with our normal work and law enforcement." ”

Hydward's hand was in his pocket, and the place where he stood was only a dozen steps away from the visiting team's dressing room, but the distance of more than ten meters was like a curse, and it was difficult to cross it.

He took a step forward, and the two MI6 dressed buddies closed the "door" very tacitly.

'Since I'm not sacked by the club, then I'm the manager right to be with my players, Portsmouth have a game worth three points in the afternoon and they need me. Hydward's whole person has become unusually calm from the beginning, and none of the reporters in that group can conclude that he is not a coach, and the FA naturally can't do it, as long as he bites his head like he did in the press conference hall, these people can only do nothing about him.

For today's plan, we can only delay for a moment and continue to work under pressure. The only way to solve the problem is the way of the club's owner, Antonov, and the FA has no way.

"Get out of the way!" Hydward showed the dignity and momentum of a manager.

The two bodyguards looked at each other, unmoved.

"Get out of the way!!" He accentuated his tone, his hands in his pockets clenched into fists.

"Sir, if you refuse to submit any supporting documents, you can still attend this match, and the league committee has the right to refuse you entry in any form in the next round."

The two men relented slightly, they were only two members of the committee, and they did not have the right to enforce the law by the British police.

"If you're really a manager, qualifications should be a breeze for you."

"Get out of the way !!" Hydward didn't say much, where did he find a genuine certificate, unless he hacked into the FIFA website, but this thing is really fake is fake. The shoulders slammed into the two bodyguards and walked straight towards the locker room. He doesn't care what happens in the next round of the league, from now on he will block his career and his future to win everything. Now he's going to be with his players, the team is about to step on the field, and he's not in him, and he's a little worried about whether these kids won't train seriously.

Since Portsmouth fell into the abyss, it is only a few last steps away from climbing out of the quagmire, how can it fall short at this moment? The transfer period is just around the corner, with his eyes, it seems that the world's geniuses are beckoning to him, Portsmouth will definitely be able to be reborn in his hands, and he also promised Lord Fergus, the Premier League; In the Champions League, the dream is ahead, how can it fall like this?

His steps are more and more determined, and now this greatness is as much as a dog; In the era of legends, there are many top managers, and there is only one Hydeward!