After gently closing the locker room door behind him, David clapped his hands sharply, drawing the attention of every player inside. His tone was calm, yet tinged with a sadness that cut deep.
"Maybe you should thank Low," he began, his voice carrying through the tense room. "He's given you a chance in the second half to show who you really are. Instead of swapping you out, he's helping you redeem yourselves—to prove that you belong here. Otherwise, you'd be heading back to England with your heads bowed in shame."
Inside the locker room sat the starters who had just endured a trying first half. Juve's dominance and their own timid performance were etched into every face. Meanwhile, the substitutes continued warming up on the sidelines, oblivious to the weight in the room.
"Juventus is powerful—there's no denying that. They're one of the world's top clubs, even without Zidane. But maybe some of you have convinced yourselves that losing to a team like Juventus is fine. That it's normal for a third-division English team like Notts County to falter against a Serie A giant."
David scanned the room, making eye contact with several players. His tone now sharpened as he leaned forward.
"If you think that way—if you're truly content with mediocrity—well, just let me know. I'll send you to any club you want, for free."
His words landed like a stone. The players shifted uncomfortably under the chairmen's piercing gaze.
"Notts County is technically a third-division team, yes," David continued. "But I've never thought of us that way—not once. In my mind, this is a club destined for the Premier League, destined for Champions League nights. That is the stage we belong on—and all we're doing now is climbing the ladder to get there."
"You might not realize this yet, but I have unwavering faith in you. More faith in you than you do in yourselves right now. I look at this room and I see the foundation of a team that will define this era of football. You will be the cornerstone of Notts County's rise to greatness."
David's voice softened, yet his words became more powerful.
"Fear has no place here. No team—no matter how strong—should make you feel powerless. Even if they're better than us today, that's no excuse to cower."
"What I want to see is fight. Unyielding spirit. Even if you know you're going to lose, I want to see you give everything you've got. Anything less—anything like what we saw in the first half—is unacceptable."
David stepped back, glancing at each player again. "So, from now on, I want you to think of yourselves as superstars. Play like superstars. Because one day, that's exactly what you'll be."
Though his speech was over, there was no applause. A heavy silence hung in the room, but David could tell from the determined expressions on their faces that his words had struck a chord.
Satisfied, David returned to the box just as the second half began.
Low made no tactical adjustments at halftime, keeping faith in the starting eleven. Juventus, however, rotated players, with Lippi eager to test his squad. After all, this was still a preseason warm-up match.
David, seated in the box, felt his anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. He believed in the young talent assembled on the pitch, but these players were still raw, unproven. Could they truly rise to the occasion?
As the second half began, Juventus continued to control the tempo, their players keeping possession with ease. To them, it was business as usual—a subdued pace to wear down their opponents.
But they hadn't expected what came next.
Where Notts County had buckled under pressure in the first half, something had shifted during the break. Gone were the signs of trepidation—the delicate touches, the hesitation. In their place was something new: aggression.
The players pressed higher, closing down Juventus' attack with vigor and intensity, throwing the Italian giants off balance.
Juventus, too relaxed and self-assured, found themselves forced into mistakes.
In one pivotal moment, Nedved looked to thread the ball through to Trezeguet for a piercing run, but it was intercepted by Meireles. Calm under pressure, Meireles quickly laid the ball off to Alonso, who had already scanned the field for an opportunity.
Alonso, a player Low trusted as the team's heartbeat, lofted a picture-perfect long ball out to the right flank. Kuyt, receiving the pass under pressure from Zambrotta, controlled it deftly and surged forward.
With a shimmy and a feint, Kuyt shifted Zambrotta's weight and cut inside before sliding the ball diagonally to Misimović in the half-space.
Misimović, aware of the returning defenders, did not hesitate. With a quick shift of his body, he unleashed a powerful shot. Buffon, Juventus' world-class goalkeeper, dove sharply to his left, pulling off a stunning save.
But the danger wasn't over.
As the ball spilled from Buffon's gloves, Hübner ghosted into position, pouncing on the rebound with predatory instinct. While everyone else stood frozen, the veteran striker poked the ball into the net with ease.
For a moment, there was silence—a collective shock rippling through the stadium.
The silence broke into life as Notts County's players erupted in celebration. The underdog had landed a stunning counterattack against one of football's most iconic teams.
In the box, David nearly jumped off the sofa in sheer joy. He had believed in this team, but seeing their resilience manifest in such a tangible way made his heart race with pride.
"This… this is what I've been waiting for," he muttered to himself, fists clenched in satisfaction.
On the field, the players crowded around each other, jubilant. The goal wasn't just about the scoreline—it was about belief. For the first time all match, they felt like they could compete.
Juventus, of course, composed themselves quickly. The players knew better than to underestimate their opponents again. Piero, Nedved, and Del Piero gathered near the halfway line, speaking calmly amidst the chaos.
"It's a warm-up," David reminded himself as he watched from above. "But for us, this is about more than fitness—it's about proving who we are."
And with that goal, the counterattack had started—not just in the game, but for Notts County's ambitions.