After the first round of the 95-96 English Premier League concluded, Millwall's away match against Manchester United stirred a sensational response. Fleet Street focused unanimously on this game as a headline story. While tabloids had a field day, major newspapers like The Times, Daily Telegraph, Daily Mail, and The Guardian all featured prominent front-page articles about the match.
Among them, the headline coverage in the Daily Mail pleased Aldrich the most. The entire layout showcased two striking photographs: on the left, Aldrich was seen sliding on his knees in celebration, while on the right, Millwall players were exiting the pitch post-match. The robust, athletic players, with Nedved in the center and Southgate, Larsson, Makélélé, Pires, and others flanking him, draped their shirts over their shoulders, proudly displaying their well-defined physiques, leaving almost all female readers infatuated!
It was undeniable that Aldrich's team, led by him, was a squad brimming with handsome players. The ruggedly strong Nedved and Trezeguet, the artistic Frenchman Pires, the dashing Schneider, and the baby-faced Solskjær were all there, not to mention the likes of Pirlo and Shevchenko who didn't even make the squad...
Manchester United had always been in the news spotlight, but after this match, Millwall quickly created a buzz in English football. It seemed like everyone was asking: Is this the notorious thug team, Millwall?
However, fans who watched the match replays were puzzled to find that it was Manchester United who played dirtier! Keane's many rough tactics were more apparent, while Millwall displayed the tenacity of an indomitable warrior, a lion relentlessly pursuing victory.
Especially noticeable was a controversial penalty kick decision favoring Manchester United.
Football analysts shared diverse opinions as they analyzed the match. The BBC's Premier League highlights program, which boasted the highest viewership, dedicated a segment featuring many football legends providing insights and tactical reviews of the game.
After this spectacular debut in the Premier League, Millwall had quickly made an impact throughout England. Though it was merely planting a seed, it was a promising start.
Aldrich expressed immense gratitude to the FA; Millwall's milestone introduction to the Premier League was against a traditional powerhouse like Manchester United.
He aimed for simplicity and speed in building the team, hoping that the attractive style of play would garner attention.
In truth, there was another compelling reason why Aldrich was determined to replicate the miracle of Nottingham Forest in his first season: he needed Millwall's debut in the Premier League to be strikingly impressive!
Playing conservatively with defensive counter-attacks might enhance the chances of competing for the championship, but it wouldn't help Millwall gain notoriety.
During Arsène Wenger's sixteen years at Arsenal, the number of significant titles he won wasn't much more than the eight years of George Graham's reign. Wenger secured one more league title but did not achieve Graham's European Cup Winners' Cup victory. He merely won two more domestic cups than Graham's Arsenal.
Yet, there's no doubt that Wenger's Arsenal was far more successful than Graham's.
Fans often mocked Graham's Arsenal matches as if they were in a library, leaving even their own supporters desperate, while Wenger's Arsenal drew so many fans that Highbury could hardly accommodate the growing numbers. Countless neutral fans eagerly awaited Arsenal matches, and even with the highest ticket prices in the Premier League, attendance at their home games was consistently near full capacity.
Thus, Aldrich wanted his team to play beautifully, but such beauty had to be rooted in practicality and efficiency, as he firmly believed that the two could coexist.
Now, neutral fans were beginning to pay attention to Millwall, and supporters in East London could proudly lift their heads. Club jersey sales were thriving, and all signs indicated that Millwall was rapidly ascending in English football.
The day after the match, the team had a light practice session in the afternoon following a morning off. Aldrich exited his apartment at noon, preparing to walk to the training ground, which was just under a fifteen-minute walk.
However, as soon as he stepped outside, he found three people blocking his way.
Brady, Fred, and Yvonne stood at his doorstep, dressed casually yet with serious expressions on their faces. Aldrich was startled and asked, "What's going on? Why do you look like you're here for a grudge match?"
"Aldrich, why hasn't the club responded? Please, honestly tell us, whatever it is, we'll keep it to ourselves. We won't betray a friend we've known since childhood," Brady said slowly, word by word.
Yvonne handed him a newspaper, biting his lip. Aldrich took it and glanced at it; it was a tabloid from Manchester, although he wasn't sure how they got it.
Besides reporting on the clash between Manchester United and Millwall, a significant headline read: Manchester United is preparing a package deal for Larsson and Trezeguet! Millwall's stars are set to conquer Old Trafford!
Aldrich couldn't help but chuckle; the news had spread quickly!
This did align with the British media's knack for being omnipresent and prescient. Yet, the report was somewhat inaccurate.
Ferguson had only mentioned Larsson or Trezeguet; he knew it was impossible to take both at once since he couldn't start both of them. One of them might make it into the lineup, potentially partnering Cantona while the other would have to sit out.
"There's nothing to discuss; nothing has been finalized yet."
"Aldrich quickly passed the newspaper back to Yvonne and observed that she seemed somewhat preoccupied, her bright eyes glancing slyly behind him. Aldrich thought it strange: What is there to see in my apartment?"
"Aldrich, is that your final answer? Do you think we're reporters? What do you mean by 'nothing has been finalized'? Does that imply you're considering selling the club's hope?" Fred exclaimed, agitation clear in his voice. Although he was an immigrant, he had lived in East London since he was young, much like Brady and the others, growing up watching Millwall play. Finally seeing Millwall back in the top tier and with a promising future was thrilling, yet history seemed to be repeating itself, much like when they lost Sheringham and others.
Aldrich felt irritated by the unwarranted accusations. He frowned and said, "Can you stop jumping to conclusions? Yes, I control whether to accept Manchester United's offer, but I don't want to sell players. If they are adamant about leaving, what's the point of forcibly keeping them? Should I bench them in future matches or let them stay and sulk? When I say nothing has been finalized, I truly mean it. I'm not the stereotypical 'club puppet' you think. To be honest, if Larsson or Trezeguet wanted to join Manchester United, I wouldn't stop them—on what grounds? If I were them, and Manchester United was offering me a chance, what reason does Millwall have to keep me here? All we can offer players is money and trust. If Manchester United offers them the same, comparing other factors, how can Millwall compete with Manchester United?"
The three looked down, defeated. They desperately hoped the players would show loyalty to the club, but "loyalty" in football can quickly lose its value amid overflowing desire. How many could resist the allure of wealth and fame? It's not just the ordinary stars; even the greats rarely manage to stay loyal until the end.
"Sorry."
Brady lowered his head, realizing he had overreacted upon hearing the news, especially since Manchester United had indeed made an official offer that morning for both players.
£7 million for Larsson, £5 million for Trezeguet.
As for who would negotiate successfully, that was another matter. If Millwall agreed, and Manchester United's negotiating team could reach a consensus with the players, Ferguson wouldn't mind taking both, especially with Trezeguet still young.
From their reactions, Aldrich could see they were just pure fans, supporting Millwall and closely following every move of the club. Any negative news about the club would leave them anxious and flustered.
He addressed the three, "Alright, just let things unfold naturally. If you think of me as a profit-driven club owner, then why bother coming to me? By the way, don't you have school today?"
Yvonne raised her wrist to check her beautiful watch, pouting slightly as she whispered, "It's too late now; forget it, I'll skip class."
"Oh my, the obedient girl from our childhood has gone astray! No, don't! Wait, Brady, you drive my car and take Yvonne to school, then you two can decide whether or not to go yourself."
As Aldrich spoke, he went to open the garage door and tossed the BMW keys to Brady.
The guy instantly perked up as he eyed the white BMW, grinning, "If I take it away, I won't bring it back!"
Aldrich shrugged and replied, "Whatever."
That car was initially acquired by Arthur a few years ago when the Hall family struck it rich; it wasn't high-end and cost less than £40,000 back then. Now, the value was likely around £20,000 or so.
He rarely drove it unless he was taking Melanié out on a date or going to movies, or driving to areas outside West London.
Before departing, Yvonne hesitated for a moment, turned back, and softly asked, "Are you used to living here alone?"
Aldrich replied casually, "Yeah, I've been living alone for the past few years."
"Oh, that's good."
Yvonne seemed to breathe easier, and Aldrich found it odd but didn't press further.
Once they drove off, Aldrich strolled leisurely toward the training ground.
Neighbors in this new community were mostly fans, team management staff, or the families of players. As he passed by, everyone greeted him warmly. Near the edge of the community, he spotted a young boy juggling a football while counting aloud to himself.
"136, 137, 138..."
"David!"
"Hmm?"
The 14-year-old, clutching the ball, turned to Aldrich with a face full of excitement and jogged over, still speaking in Spanish, "Sir, I watched the match; Millwall was amazing, even better than Real Madrid or Barcelona!"
Aldrich playfully tapped the boy's head, smiling, "Call me boss, not sir."
David rubbed his head with a smile, "Boss."
"What are you doing here?"
"The coach said we should take a nap, but I couldn't sleep, so I'm playing here."
"You should catch some sleep; otherwise, you might struggle in the afternoon training. Well, it's almost time, so come with me, and tell me about your impressions of London these days."
"Sure, I train during the day and learn English with a tutor at night. My parents are really happy with life here..."
The tall and short duo, akin to an older brother walking with a younger brother, strolled out of the community toward the Millwall training grounds.