CHAPTER 90

Coleman's trick was to let his Coventry players regain their composure first.

Taking advantage of the brief lull during Luton's celebration, he quickly called several players over for direct, face-to-face instructions.

"Sorry, coach, that was my call..."

Henderson immediately owned up, assuming Coleman had pulled him over to reprimand him for the earlier mistake.

But Coleman cut him off. "Not now, Brian!"

There was no time to criticize or break down errors on the field—not when the priority was stabilizing the team.

Luton had just scored on the break, and now they'd be waiting to hit Coventry again on the counter if they recklessly pushed forward.

Coleman wasn't the kind of manager who took unnecessary risks. If he wanted to go on the offensive, it wouldn't be through a rushed, disorganized assault. He needed halftime to lay out a proper tactical plan.

If Coventry charged forward blindly now, they'd just get punished again by another Luton counterattack.

On the pitch, Coventry's players looked deflated. They had just begun to find a rhythm, only to have cold water poured on their momentum by Luton's goal.

"Stick to the original game plan!" Coleman instructed firmly.

Henderson, who had lost possession in the build-up to the goal, didn't dare question the orders. He nodded repeatedly, then returned to the pitch to relay Coleman's message.

The rest of the first half returned to how it had begun—both sides cagey, testing each other out. Coventry held their shape and didn't commit numbers forward. Luton, sitting on the lead, seemed content to absorb pressure and wait for openings.

The match fell into a lull, and fans watching late into the night in China began to drift off. Without that sudden spark of Luton's counterattack, it's likely the viewership on Guangti would have dropped sharply.

"The match has reverted to its earlier state," said commentator He Hongfa. "Coventry look utterly lifeless at home. While it's understandable that Luton would sit back after scoring, Coventry's lack of urgency is quite simply a lack of fighting spirit."

Luton manager Ethan watched from the dugout with a hint of disdain. No wonder, he thought—Coleman might be a friend of Mourinho, but his coaching career had always been underwhelming. In fact, Ethan wouldn't even know his name if not for this FA Cup clash.

Trailing at home, and still playing it safe? That was hard for Ethan to accept.

If he were in Coleman's position, he wouldn't remain so "calm." Even if not going all-out in attack, he'd at least shift the focus to offense and apply pressure.

Sure, Coleman's approach was steady—but was it also sending the wrong message to the players?

To the Coventry squad, it might feel like an admission of inferiority: If we're still defending when we're down, maybe we're just not good enough to compete...

"This is what we're working with," Ethan muttered. "It's just a shame we've only got one fit striker. Otherwise, I'd really consider pushing forward to kill the game off."

He turned to his analyst, Lin Sen, who was seated beside him. These days, tactical discussions happened more with Lin than with assistant coach John. John had taken on more of a training oversight role, while Lin acted as Ethan's right hand.

That made sense—John had years of experience, but he wasn't a tactical mind. Lin Sen, though, had real potential. Ethan rated him highly. In time, he could become a great head coach himself.

"We'll wait for the second half," Ethan said.

"Think we should try pressing them then?" Lin Sen asked. "Coventry look uninspired right now."

Ethan considered it, then shook his head.

"Coleman won't accept a loss here. Even a draw keeps them alive—they'd still have a chance at the semi-finals. But if they crash out of the FA Cup now, it's over. No promotion, no cup run, and Coleman might be out of a job. He's going to throw everything at us in the second half."

He patted Lin Sen on the shoulder. "We hold. Let's see what he does first—then we strike."

Lin Sen nodded. Sometimes, being the manager meant knowing when to gamble.

As expected, the first half ended without any further goals. The referee blew for halftime, and both teams headed into the dressing rooms with the score unchanged.

The second half began with no substitutions from either side.

That was understandable for Luton, who held the lead. But Coventry's lack of changes surprised Ethan.

What was Coleman playing at?

His answer came less than a minute into the second half.

Eastwood, who had operated in midfield during the first 45, was now pushed higher into the front line. Coventry had switched to a 4-3-3, with an inverted triangle midfield and both full-backs pressing high.

This was clearly an attacking setup.

Ethan sat up straight. Coventry were coming forward—and that meant opportunities would open up.

From the sidelines, he immediately began issuing new instructions.

Soon, the tempo of the game began to pick up. Luton's defense became more aggressive, initiating a coordinated high press in Coventry's half, putting pressure on their backline.

Coventry responded in kind, stepping up their attacking rhythm. They began pushing higher up the pitch, looking to break through Luton's pressing lines.

In the 53rd minute, Luton seized the moment with a swift counterattack after intercepting the ball in midfield.

With just three quick passes, they transitioned from defense to offense, cutting through Coventry's shape. Kevin Keane surged down the right flank and whipped in a low cross into the penalty area. Jamie Vardy timed his run perfectly and met the ball in stride. He aimed a first-time effort at goal, but the strike lacked angle—Coventry's goalkeeper read it well and blocked it with his chest. The danger was momentarily cleared by Cowen.

Gasps erupted from the stands. Some Coventry supporters had already buried their faces in their hands, unable to watch—only to be reassured by their neighbors that no goal had been conceded.

On the touchline, Luton manager Ethan looked satisfied.

The chance may have gone begging, but it proved one thing—Luton's counterattack was dangerous and effective. If they kept creating chances like that, a second goal felt inevitable.

Relaxed, Ethan leaned back on the bench, chatting and laughing with assistant coach John Linsen. For a moment, everything seemed under control.

But that moment didn't last.

Just two minutes later, Coventry's Henderson picked up the ball near the center circle. Spotting a gap and without hesitation, he let fly from nearly 30 yards out.

The shot tore through the air like a rocket. If it had curled even slightly more into the corner, it would've been unstoppable. Luton's keeper, Claude Rondo, reacted just in time—diving full stretch to palm it away. A brilliant save, but the danger wasn't over yet.

Corner kick!

Coventry's tall players gathered in the box. As the ball was swung in, Ethan immediately sensed trouble.

The delivery arced over Luton's central defense. Coventry forward Morrison muscled past Luton's left-back Solo Davis—who, despite doing everything he could, was outmatched in the air. Morrison rose above him and powered a header into the net.

"Damn it!!!"

Ethan leapt from the dugout, furious but unsure who to blame. Davis had given his all, but the mismatch in height and strength had proved decisive.

Frustration quickly gave way to focus.

The score was level now. Ethan knew Luton needed to respond—and fast. The game was far from over.