The road to godhood starting from Ligue 1

Chapter 390 TERRIBLE
While all the fans are discussing who Liverpool's new manager will be.

Liverpool posted a message on their official Twitter account: "Big news, see you at 8 am tomorrow!"

"Big news? What else can be considered big news besides the official announcement of the new coach!"

"Help! It's only 11 o'clock! Do I have to wait until 8 am? Just kill me! Please, official Twitter account, secretly post a picture of my back!"

"Official Twitter account, can you sleep? I can't sleep!!"

"A new era is coming for Liverpool! Tomorrow at 8 pm, witness the moment of history! May God bless it be Klopp!"

"Klopp! It's definitely Klopp!!"

This night was destined to be anything but peaceful.

Before dawn, an unusual restlessness permeated the streets of Liverpool.

At four in the morning, people wrapped in red scarves were already scrolling through their phones, their screens lit up with the official Twitter account, their fingers mechanically refreshing—even though they had only been scrolling for less than ten seconds, they always felt that a new message would pop up in the next second.

The coffee shop had just opened at five o'clock, and the staff had just preheated the coffee machine when a group of fans with bloodshot eyes rushed in. They were distracted when ordering, their eyes glued to their phones.

"Three hours left"

"It feels like we have to wait three days."

Soft mutterings rose and fell.

At 6 o'clock, social media exploded.

The Liverpool fan group was flooded with messages like a waterfall; nobody cared about logic, they just kept repeating "It's almost time."

"Don't tell me it's fake."

"Klopp will definitely come."

Some people posted photos of their bloodshot eyes, while others patted the beer and Liverpool jerseys laid out on the table, saying, "We'll start drinking as soon as the official announcement is made."
Some people are scrolling through the hashtag "#KloppToLFC" on Twitter, grasping at every related post as if it were a lifeline, fearing that they will be disappointed in the end.

At seven o'clock, as the sun had just climbed above the roof of Melwood training ground, a large number of fans had already gathered outside, rubbing their hands to warm them and counting down the minutes: "Sixty minutes left."

"Forty minutes"

"Half an hour"

Time seemed to slow down, each minute passing exceptionally long. Some people couldn't help pacing back and forth, while others muttered to themselves while looking at their phones, "Why hasn't the official Twitter account made a move yet? Could something have gone wrong?"

At 7:50, all the fans began to breathe rapidly.

Everyone held their phones up to their eyes, fingers hovering over the refresh button, palms sweaty.

Some people's phones were getting low on battery after being used all night, and they were frantically searching for a charger. Others clenched their fists, their knuckles turning white, and muttered, "Wait a little longer, wait a little longer."

That kind of torment, where there are only ten minutes left but it feels like an eternity, makes your chest feel heavy and suffocated.

At 7:59, the entire city of Liverpool seemed to have been put on pause.

Pedestrians on the street stopped in their tracks, drivers in cars turned on their phone speakers, and fans held their breath, their eyes glued to their phone screens, not even daring to blink.

The second hand ticked away, each tick like a hammer blow to the heart. Someone couldn't help but shout, "Hurry up!"

Eight o'clock sharp!
Without any warning, Liverpool's official Twitter account suddenly lit up with a new tweet: "Official: Jürgen Klopp officially appointed as manager of Liverpool Football Club!"

The accompanying photo shows Klopp wearing Liverpool training gear and his agent Kositz at the Melwood training ground.

moment,

All the anxiety, torment, and trepidation transformed into a volcanic eruption of ecstasy!
Fans everywhere erupted in deafening cheers; some embraced and wept, while others jumped up, waving their arms and shouting "Klopp! Klopp!"

This is a coach who led his team to the Champions League final!

He actually chose to join Liverpool midway through the season!
Why are you unhappy?!
Compared to Liverpool's predecessors over the years, Klopp's resume is simply unbeatable!
The online comment section was instantly flooded with red.

"Ahhhh, it's official!"

"I'm so happy! It was worth waiting all night!"

"Klopp!"

The sun rose higher and higher, shining on every street in Liverpool and on the fans' flushed but smiling faces.

From midnight to eight o'clock, the agonizing wait that felt like an eternity vanished the moment the announcement was made, leaving only pure joy and boundless anticipation for the future.

Jürgen Klopp has arrived.

A new era for Liverpool is truly about to begin.

The morning air at Melwood training facility was filled with anticipation.

The red team flags fluttered in the wind, and the staff next to the players' tunnel couldn't help but look towards the entrance frequently. Even the cleaning lady slowed down her movements.

Nowadays,

It was the day Jürgen Klopp took office.

This man, who unleashed a yellow-black storm in Dortmund, is about to bring his passion and tactics to Liverpool.

At 10 a.m., a Mercedes slowly drove into the base, and the moment the door opened, all eyes were on it.

Klopp walked down, wearing a dark gray suit jacket over a white shirt, without a tie, and with the top two buttons of his collar undone. His signature tousled curly hair was still flamboyant, but he was less of the roaring he used to command from the sidelines and more of a formality.

He raised his hand and waved to the staff who were greeting him, with a hearty smile.

This was one of the few occasions he wore a suit.

This was followed by a series of media events.

Because the competition is imminent, it is relatively simple.

In Melwood's media room, the flashbulbs never stopped from the moment Klopp sat down.

The first question, of course, is why Klopp chose Liverpool.

Klopp's voice also kept coming out—

"I want to thank the club for giving me this opportunity."

Liverpool is a club with a soul. The atmosphere at Anfield, the passion of the fans, and the history here all make it irresistible to me.

I've watched Liverpool games on TV before and seen the players struggle, but I've also seen their potential.

Now, I'm here, and I want to work with everyone to unlock the potential of this team and help Liverpool regain its rhythm.

Short-term changes cannot be achieved by me alone; they require the cooperation of the coaching staff, players, and everyone else.

I wouldn't say we can win all the games next week; that's unrealistic.

But I can guarantee that starting tomorrow's training, the players will feel a different level of intensity.

Everyone needs to know where they should go, where they should spread information, when to exert pressure, and when to withdraw.

As for why we chose to come now?
Because I saw young players like Gaião, captains like Gerrard, and dynamic strikers like Suárez and Sturridge. These players are truly delightful.

Another reporter steered the conversation toward the tough match this weekend: "We're facing league leaders Arsenal this weekend, and both Lamar O'Neal and Ramsey are in excellent form. How will you deal with their midfield control? Will you have Gerrard focus on marking O'Neal?"

Klopp's expression turned serious, yet it revealed his competitive spirit: "Arsenal is an excellent team. Deadfish Eyes' passing and Ramsey's late runs into the box are both threats. But we won't just focus on marking – in my football, the best defense is offense."

We will use high press to disrupt their passing rhythm, making it difficult for Ramsey to receive the ball comfortably and preventing him from easily making runs forward.

Of course, we respect Arsenal, but we are not afraid of them; we have no reason to fear any opponent.

Another reporter brought up his success at Dortmund, asking if he would replicate the Dortmund model: "You led Lewandowski and Reus to create brilliant attacks at Dortmund. Liverpool's attacking lineup is similar now. Will you replicate that tactic?"

“Copy? No, I won’t be a parrot.” Klopp shook his head, his tone firm. “Dortmund has its own characteristics, and Liverpool has its own soul.”

Lewandowski is a top-class center forward, Suarez has his own impact, Reus has great speed, and Gaio's ability to draw defenders is even more unique.

I will adjust the tactics according to the characteristics of Liverpool players, rather than simply transplanting Dortmund's style. For example, Suarez's short turns, Sturridge's runs, and Gaião's free-flowing runs can all be integrated into my pressing system. What we want to build is a Liverpool-style attack, not a Dortmund-style one.

The last question came from a reporter from the Liverpool Echo, whose tone was closer to the fans' expectations: "The fans have high hopes for your arrival, and some even expect you to lead the team to the championship. How do you view these expectations? Do you feel any pressure?"

Klopp picked up his water glass, took a sip, and put it down with a sincere look in his eyes: "Pressure is a good thing; it shows that the fans care about this team."

But I want to tell the fans: please give us time.

A championship isn't won in a day; unity is the first step.

Of course, the players and I will give our all and repay the fans' expectations with our performance in every game.

As for the championship? We will move in that direction, step by step, without rushing, but we will not stop either.

nonstop.

After the media event, Klopp went straight into the conference room.

The players were already seated in their places, with Gerrard in the front row, his hands on his knees, his eyes focused.

Next to him is Gaio.

After a series of interviews with the media, he has gradually become accustomed to expressing himself at Liverpool. Klopp did not greet the players.

He walked directly to the conference room platform, stood before the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and with a flick of his wrist, a huge English word appeared prominently in the center of the blackboard—

“TERRIBLE”

The chalk tip pressed heavily on the last letter.

He turned around, his voice loud and clear, with a distinctive German accent, saying, "Hello everyone, I won't say hello yet. I'll get to know you all in a bit. First of all, I want to say that from today onwards, this word will be etched into your minds!"

"This is what I hope Liverpool's opponents will feel under my management. I hope our pressing in the attacking third will make future opponents feel like they're sitting on pins and needles, and make them fear us!"

He raised his hand and drew a circle in the air, his tone becoming impassioned: "What I want is not passive defense, but high pressing! From the very first second the opponent gets the ball, put pressure on them, make them breathless, force them to make mistakes in passing, and make their defense restless! This is my football, and this is the path Liverpool will take in the future!"

The players all sat up straight, and Gaio's eyes lit up.

This free and impactful style inexplicably excited him.

“Now, let’s do something important.” Klopp put down the chalk and walked to the center of the meeting room. “Everyone, stand up and introduce yourselves. Not just the players, but also the coaching staff, support team, and medical personnel. Starting with the captain, tell me your name, your responsibilities, and what you want to bring to this team.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Gerrard slowly stood up.

“I am Steven Gerrard, the captain of Liverpool. On the field, I am mainly responsible for organizing and orchestrating the midfield, connecting the front and back lines, and also withstanding the pressure on the defensive end. When the team needs me, I will do my best to fight for every tackle and every shot.”

At this point, he paused.

He looked up at Klopp, then slowly glanced at Gaio, Suarez, and Henderson beside him, before finally fixing his gaze on the Liverpool crest hanging on the conference room wall. His eyes were filled with complex emotions: regret, persistence, and an undisguised longing.

"As for what I want to bring to the team," he took a deep breath, his voice a little deeper than before, "I played for Liverpool for over a decade, won the Champions League, the FA Cup, and the League Cup, but in my entire life, I have never lifted a Premier League trophy for this team. This is not just my regret, but the concern of everyone who wears a Liverpool shirt and stands in the Anfield stands."

He gently clenched his fingers, as if grasping the opportunities he had missed over the years: "So what I want to do is to work with everyone here, with my teammates, and with everyone behind the team, to give it our all and bring that Premier League title back. I want Liverpool fans to no longer have to feel regret at the end of each season, to no longer have to ask 'what ifs.' I want this city to truly have its own Premier League glory."

The meeting room remained quiet.

Gaio watched Gerald's retreating figure and suddenly understood the weight of the word "Captain".

That was a steadfast commitment with unfulfilled wishes, a sense of responsibility that carried the team's regrets on one's own shoulders.

Klopp was the first to applaud; the applause wasn't enthusiastic, but it was powerful.

He looked at Gerrard with a hint of admiration in his eyes: "Very good, Steven. With such a goal, you deserve to be Liverpool's captain."

Gerrard slowly sat down, but the regret in his eyes seemed to have been replaced by a renewed hope.

perhaps,

The new coach in front of him, who carries the belief of "TERRIBLE," can help him fulfill this dream that he has kept hidden for more than ten years.

Teammates Suarez, Sturridge, Henderson, and others spoke in turn.

Goal!

Win!

champion!!
This is everyone's wish!
Including Gaio.

but,

When asked what he wanted to bring to the team, Gaio didn't immediately mention trophies. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and glanced at the photos of Liverpool legends on the wall of the conference room.

When he spoke again, his voice held a youthful fervor: "I don't want to be just a player who can score goals; I want to work with everyone to create something great that will remain in Anfield's memory."

“Greatness isn’t just about my cheers after scoring a goal,” he suddenly recalled the young fan’s tearful face with that red wristband yesterday, and a smile involuntarily curved his lips as he continued, “It’s about the combination play that comes from running dozens of meters and passing the ball, making the fans in the stands jump and shout; it’s about when we were 0-0, no one gave up, and when we fought hard to score the winning goal, the Anfield anthem could lift the roof; it’s about how, in the future, when people mention Liverpool, they won’t just say they won the championship, but also, ‘Do you remember? There was a kid named Gaio, and his teammates, they played so excitingly.’”

He clenched his fist, recalling the cardboard sign the young fan had held up earlier, and a smile curved his lips. "Steven wants to bring back the Premier League title; that's the goal of all of us."

But I also want more people to fall in love with this place because of us—to let kids like that little fan yesterday hold my wristband and say, "Keep winning!"; to let the older fans sitting in the stands remember the fighting spirit of the Red Army from back then when they see us.

This is the greatness I feel for it; it's not about dazzling individual achievements, but the best gift we could give Liverpool together.

These words were met with applause from his teammates.

Klopp suddenly smiled, stepped forward, and patted him on the shoulder with a broad and strong hand: "Young, I know you."

He turned to look at everyone, his voice filled with approval, "I knew about Young before I came to Liverpool. This young man's talent caught my eye, and I really wanted to bring him to Dortmund, but it didn't work out. But fate is so amazing, we met in Liverpool."

He turned back, staring into Gaio's eyes, his tone earnest: "That purity in your eyes, that burning desire to be tied to the team, is the beginning of greatness. Remember this feeling, and together we'll make it real."

Gaio was stunned, then nodded emphatically.

The self-introductions lasted for nearly an hour, with everyone from the first-team players to other staff members giving a thorough introduction.

When it was the staff's turn to speak, Klopp specifically reminded the players, "Remember everyone's name, remember their job. Football is not a game of 11 men, it's a battle for everyone. Only when you know the responsibilities of everyone around you and respect everyone's contributions can this power of unity make success possible."

At last.

After everyone had finished introducing themselves.

Klopp's gaze swept across the field, his tone sincere: "I hope Melwood is not a cold training ground, but a home. You need to know that when you are running on the field, there is a group of people protecting you off the field. Remember their names, and call them out the next time you meet them—this is the first step in unity."

The meeting room was quiet; no one spoke, yet an invisible sense of cohesion was slowly forming.

Gaio looked at his teammates, then at the word "TERRIBLE" on the blackboard, and suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of determination.

After the meeting, Klopp specifically called Gaio over.

He didn't elaborate on tactics, but simply smiled and said, "Yang, what you said about making the fans remember us is very good."

Gaio scratched his head a little embarrassedly: "Thank you, Coach."

"The Anfield fans are the most lovable people and our strongest support." Klopp patted his arm. "What we need to do is repay them with victory. I look forward to seeing your performance against Arsenal this weekend. How about we give Arsenal a taste of TERRIBLE?"

Gaio's eyes gleamed: "No problem, Coach!"

The afternoon sun bathed the grass at Kirkby Youth Academy in a warm golden hue.

A group of children wearing red training vests are playing a game of circus.

Klopp appeared at the edge of the training field.

After meeting with the first team in the morning, he went directly to the youth training camp in the afternoon.

Instead of wearing the dark gray suit he wore in the morning, he changed into a limp, dark gray hooded sweatshirt, the zipper only pulled up to his chest. A few strands of his messy curly hair were blown up by the wind. His hands were in his sweatpants pockets, making him look like an ordinary fan watching the game, rather than a newly appointed head coach of a prestigious club.

While his assistant was still organizing youth training materials, Klopp had already walked over to the youth coaches on the sidelines.

Youth training director Inglethorpe was about to step forward to exchange pleasantries when Klopp patted his arm first: "Don't be nervous, I'm not here to find fault."

His gaze swept over the children who were training, and he pointed to a little boy who was dribbling past his opponent. He smiled and said to the coaches, "That change of direction just now had a hint of Gaio. You've nurtured the child's talent very well, and that's more important than anything else."

Without lengthy tactical instructions or condescending demands, Klopp simply pulled the coaches to sit on a bench by the field and listened to them talk about the current youth training plan.

Whenever the coach mentions his concerns about Klopp needing to change course, Klopp waves his hand to interrupt: "Youth development is the foundation of Liverpool. You've been here so long, you know better than I do what these kids need, Inglethorpe."

He turned to the youth training director, his eyes serious. "You do things at your own pace. You don't need to accommodate me. What I want is not Klopp-style youth training, but Liverpool-style youth training—kids who can run, fight, and have the Reds' emblem in their hearts. You're already doing that."

After nearly an hour, Klopp finally followed the staff back to the youth training base's lounge.

As soon as he entered, he took out his cigarette case and squeezed it.

That was a habit he'd had for years; coffee and cigarettes were the only way he could get his full energy.

But upon noticing the "No Smoking" sign on the wall, he smiled, stuffed the cigarette pack back into his pocket, and turned to walk towards the chipped coffee machine in the corner.

The staff all stopped what they were doing and secretly watched him.

Klopp stared at the scratched buttons on the coffee machine for two seconds, then reached out and pressed the Americano button. The machine hummed twice, but not a single drop of coffee came out.

He frowned, patted the side of the machine, and pressed the espresso button again. This time, only a few drops of brown liquid dripped out before it went completely silent.

Somewhat embarrassing.

Klopp glanced down at the empty mug in his hand, then looked up at the staff member trying to suppress a laugh. Suddenly, he raised his voice, his tone tinged with self-deprecation, and shouted, "Guys, we need a new coffee machine! This old thing can't even make a decent cup of coffee; it's not helping us work properly!"

As soon as he said that, there was a burst of laughter in the lounge.

They got a little closer to each other.

One of the staff members mustered up the courage to ask, "Coach, can we beat Arsenal this weekend?"

Klopp laughed heartily, "Of course!"

When Klopp said this, all he could think about was revenge!

Because in the 2011/12 season, he led Dortmund to the Emirates Stadium, where they lost 1-2.

This was also his last time facing Arsenal.

Now the opportunity for revenge has arrived.

just,

He doesn't have much time left to prepare!
(End of this chapter)