The God of Football Starts With Passive Skills-Chapter 186 - 57: The Secret Weapon Worked: A One-Sided DFB-Pokal Semi-Final

Chapter 186: Chapter 57: The Secret Weapon Worked: A One-Sided DFB-Pokal Semi-Final

"This can’t go on," Labbadia said with a frown.

They had clearly won the match, yet the team still looked lifeless.

Leaving Bruch Road Stadium, walking through the players’ tunnel, and just before entering the locker room, Labbadia called over his media advisor.

Christian Flomot, the former press spokesperson for the T-Mobile Cycling Team.

This was another point of contention surrounding Labbadia.

Typically, a club has its own head of media, and it was rare for head coaches and players to hire their own people for such a role.

But the German football scene was currently in a period of major transformation, and everything was changing.

Who said coaches and players couldn’t have their own media advisors?

Klinsmann had one.

His had followed him from the national team all the way to Bayern.

Labbadia had one, too.

"We have back-to-back games against Werder Bremen and VfL Wolfsburg coming up. We have to find a way to get the players, especially our forwards, to rediscover some of their passion."

Flomot thought for a moment. "How about we light a fire?"

Labbadia didn’t quite understand.

"In two weeks, we play Mainz again. Helmes was competing with Wang Shuo on the top scorers’ chart in the first half of the season. He’s probably not willing to just admit defeat. Besides, you saw it yourself—Mainz is a complete mess right now."

As he finished, Christian Flomot couldn’t help but laugh.

Mainz’s form was indeed terrible.

The Klopp Syndrome, combined with the international break, and most importantly, the fact that they were still sitting second in the Bundesliga table.

They were second only to VfL Wolfsburg.

In Labbadia’s eyes, their talent didn’t justify their position!

Labbadia understood what Flomot meant.

Shift the focus and ignite Helmes’s competitive spirit.

’It could work!’

...

Surprisingly, Klopp didn’t fly into a rage in the locker room after the match.

He simply told everyone, "In two weeks, we will face Bayer Leverkusen again in the DFB-Pokal semifinal!"

"I want all of you to think hard about what lessons you can learn from this match."

At the post-match press conference, Klopp pointed the finger at the national team’s training camp.

He attributed the team’s loss to the effects of the international break.

Klopp wasn’t the first to say so.

Before him, Bayern’s Klinsmann had said the same thing.

Klinsmann’s situation was even more dire.

His team had been thrashed 5-1 away at VfL Wolfsburg.

That’s right, you didn’t misread that. The score was 5-1!

Dzeko and Griffith had both scored a brace.

This time, Magat could finally hold his head high and claim his revenge!

Meanwhile, Hoffenheim had lost 1-0 away to Hamburg.

Since Mainz had been playing at home, the players felt too ashamed to face the fans after the loss. So, after showering and changing, they all headed back to the first team’s training building.

But just as everyone was waiting for Head Coach Klopp, they saw the press officer, Tobias Spawasser, storming over from the direction of Bruch Road Stadium.

He was muttering and cursing as he walked.

"Did the fans give you an earful?" Captain Nowitzki asked with concern.

"No, the fans didn’t say anything. It was Labbadia."

Labbadia?

Everyone was completely baffled.

"What did he say?" Nowitzki asked again.

"Just now in the press conference hall, he expressed dissatisfaction that his team only scored two goals. He felt they had dominated the game and could have won by a wider margin, and he took the opportunity to belittle us."

Hearing this, the expressions on everyone’s faces turned grim.

Mainz was indeed in a terrible state right now.

But since they’d already won, there was no need to kick them while they were down. It was classless and unsportsmanlike.

"He also said..."

"What else did he say?" Nowitzki’s tone had changed.

Tobias Spawasser’s gaze fell on Wang Shuo, and he hesitated, looking like he had more to say but was holding back.

Everyone immediately turned to look at Wang Shuo.

"Is it about me?"

Tobias Spawasser nodded.

"It’s fine. Just say it."

’If he doesn’t say it now, I’ll just read it in the papers tomorrow morning anyway.’

"A reporter asked for his opinion on your performance."

Tobias Spawasser paused for a moment before explaining, "He said it was a question from a reporter, but I’m sure that reporter coordinated with him beforehand. Who could be fooled by such a cheap trick?"

"What exactly did he say?" Foyelner urged.

"He said that if Wang Shuo is supposed to be our team’s standard-bearer, then today, they tore that standard to shreds."

"He also said that Wang Shuo looked pathetic in the Bayer Leverkusen penalty area, like a wobbly toddler who couldn’t stay on his feet."

"He even offered you some advice: before the DFB-Pokal semifinal in two weeks, you should at least learn how to stay on your feet in the opponent’s penalty area."

After hearing all this, everyone’s anger instantly boiled over.

"What the FUCK!" Schürrle was the first to jump to his feet.

He wasn’t just Wang Shuo’s roommate; he was his die-hard buddy and most loyal supporter.

"I think Labbadia’s fucking lost his mind!" Foyelner flared up as well.

"Is he trying to provoke us right on our own doorstep?"

"So classless!"

Many of the surrounding teammates were filled with righteous indignation, sticking up for Wang Shuo.

Even though Wang Shuo had only been with the team for a little over a year, his contributions—whether during their promotion push or in the current season—were plain for all to see.

Most importantly, Wang Shuo had always been a good guy and was well-liked by everyone.

Poor in physical confrontations?

It was a fact, but Wang Shuo was only eighteen.

In contrast, Wang Shuo himself remained relatively calm.