Chương 970: That Old Fox

"Agbonlahor! YES! YES! YES! Agbonlahor!"

The England fans in the stands leaped from their seats, raising their arms high to cheer on their goal-scoring hero. It as if there was an earthquake at the Bernabéu stadium. Even the camera lenses were trembling.

Amid the earthshattering cheers, Agbonlahor broke free of his teammates' tugs and hugs to run all the way to the technical area, where he pulled Twain into an embrace. Everyone was aware that his appearance in the finals had a lot to do with Twain. And his goal was the best way to repay the trust of the boss.

"Aha! Twain's unexpected adjustment has left the Italians completely unable to respond! In the 24th minute, we are in the lead with one goal! Well done, Agbonlahor! Well done, Twain!" John Motson did not question Twain's substitution in his previous commentary, so at this point, he was fully confident when he made these remarks.