On the first day of the New Year, the club was supposed to be on holiday, yet Aldrich arrived at the meeting room before dawn. He sat at the head of the table with one leg crossed, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the table, as if weaving a dissonant melody.
The British paparazzi are notorious, not just for the intensity of the scandals they expose, but also for being more intrusive than their counterparts in other countries. When it comes to tracking down scoops after news breaks, they excel, leaving German journalists far behind, who lack the same degree of sensitivity and awareness.
Having dealt with the media for over three years, Aldrich had weathered many storms and knew what kind of situation awaited him today.
So, he had slipped away from his home to the club.
This way, the journalists gathering outside his front door would undoubtedly be disappointed.
The door of the meeting room swung open, and a disheveled Nagy walked in. He had canceled his flight back to Hungary and was supposed to be boarding shortly, but instead, he rushed back to the club.
"I've heard about the situation. How should we handle it?"
Nagy looked worried; he had never encountered anything like this before.
In truth, it was Aldrich's first time dealing with such matters too. Typically, as long as players weren't deliberately slacking off, a coach wouldn't make a big deal out of issues related to club management. Especially with three exemplary captains in the first team, the other players dared not act out during training.
But when it came to personal lives outside the pitch, could a coach really intervene?
Perhaps not.
However, when a player's private life tarnishes the club's image, Aldrich felt it was his responsibility as both owner and head coach to intervene.
Nagy sat down, not taking a sip of water, his forehead creased with concern.
"They were all energetic young men, and it seemed normal to look for women. But why did they have to look for call girls? Even Joe Cole was involved - well, he..."
Nagy genuinely feared the players might ruin themselves with their chaotic personal lives and expressed a string of anxious thoughts.
Aldrich felt nothing but anger and disappointment. But seeing Nagy's distraught expression made him empathize with his colleague, which in turn heightened his anger towards the players' actions.
"Look how much effort your coach puts into you, how he constantly thinks about nurturing your talent and helping you succeed, and what are you all doing?!"
"I've already called their agents. The news has already broken; I told them to inform the players that I'm waiting for them at the club."
Aldrich reassured Nagy and then closed his eyes for a moment.
Handling such matters was embarrassing for him.
Fortunately, it was Christmas time, and the foreign players on the youth and reserve squads had been given a break to return home for the holidays. Ronaldinho had flown back to Brazil, De Rossi had gone back to Rome, and the others had too. Otherwise, who knows how many players would have been drawn into this scandal.
Legally speaking, the players were not breaking any laws; seeking out call girls was legal. Money is exchanged and the intention is mutual.
But morally, it was utterly disgraceful!
Most men, if given the chance, would fantasize about such indulgences, perhaps even a wild party with attractive call girl, but what lurks in their minds is one thing—having it out in the open is another entirely.
"Ugh, managing English players is a nightmare, damn it!"
Aldrich was growing impatient, figuring that the main culprits at the center of the storm were still fast asleep after a night of debauchery.
Nagy nodded and sighed, "Yeah, foreign players, especially the younger ones, come here and follow the rules. Some even dread social interactions. I once thought it was bad for them, but letting them try to blend in as locals might not be the answer either."
Aldrich shook his head, resigned.
Foreigners often seemed shy in this strange environment; they couldn't exactly feel at ease and were afraid of stepping out of line.
Local players were different. They were intimately familiar with their surroundings, unafraid of being bullied, with extensive social networks and plenty of friends. If they wanted to have fun with their money, they had no shortage of acquaintances to join them.
Aldrich took a more personalized and lenient approach to player management.
His style had nothing to do with an iron fist; he preferred to communicate patiently with players rather than imposing a long list of "disciplinary" rules for them to follow, punishing anyone who violated them without giving any room for appeal.
Rafa Benitez disagreed with this approach, believing teams should be managed like military units.
Aldrich constantly tried to guide Benitez, encouraging him to consider the players' perspectives.
If Aldrich remembered correctly, there was a historical event involving Benitez at Liverpool where he had a falling out with Xabi Alonso, primarily due to Benitez's lack of empathy.
When Alonso wanted to return home to take care of his sick daughter, Benitez coldly replied, "Go ahead, but don't bother coming back."
Alonso returned, only to depart again, saying a permanent goodbye to Anfield.
It's normal to have discipline within a team, but management shouldn't be overly rigid.
For instance, Trezeguet had a phase where he took a lot of sick leave, using childish excuses to get time off—one time claiming someone was ill or there was an emergency. He even fabricated a friendly match involving the French U21 team to justify his absence.
Aldrich searched every match of the French youth teams and could never find any record of the games he claimed to be missing for.
Rather than scolding him, Aldrich showed Trezeguet his performance ratings and training reports, encouraging him to see for himself the downturn in his skills and how his training quality had shifted. Then, Aldrich let Trezeguet ponder whether he wanted to keep taking leave for dates or would prefer to play honestly and achieve his childhood dreams, thus realizing his life's value.
Under this management style, Trezeguet turned his life around. He apologized to Aldrich, came clean about everything, and no longer took time off, quickly regaining his form.
Aldrich really didn't want to pry into the players' private lives; he felt it would turn him into a nagging parent or a babysitter.
With players like Lampard who were known for their flirtations, Aldrich simply turned a blind eye.
If he loved to switch girlfriends, that was his business. As long as it didn't affect training and dating didn't become a distraction, Aldrich had no interest in how often he changed partners; after all, romance is a natural part of life.
Seeing players as individuals, as long as personal behavior didn't impact their primary responsibilities—playing football—there was no need for the club's management to impose excessive restrictions.
Years later, Giggs's "sister-in-law scandal" would shock the football world.
But from a coach's perspective, Giggs's actions were personal; he hadn't disrupted his teammates or become a liability on the pitch. Objectively speaking, while he was morally questionable, he remained a role model on the field that other players would still have to learn from—just not about his personal life.
Conversely, what happened with Liverpool's notorious players was entirely different. Their individual behaviors combined to create collective issues, directly affecting Liverpool's performance and tarnishing the club's image. In that era, Liverpool missed out on championships and faced ridicule from the outside, with many thinking they had it coming.
You enjoyed partying and womanizing, living it up better than anyone else, and yet expected to hoist the trophy at the season's end to adoring fans? There's no such luck!
So, while Lampard's new girlfriend might appear in tabloid headlines, Aldrich chose to ignore it; what he didn't see couldn't hurt him.
But the party from last night? That was inexcusable.
If this unhealthy trend were allowed to continue unchecked, who knows how many players would be influenced?
Especially with so many promising youngsters in Millwall's youth team.
After noon, some players finally walked into the meeting room.
Joe Cole, dressed casually, entered trembling, glancing nervously at Aldrich's expressionless face and Nagy's worried one.
"Boss, Coach Nagy, I—I left early yesterday! I really did!"
Joe Cole had never seen Aldrich look so cold; given that Aldrich was older and had always taken time to encourage him during youth training, he was taken aback.
Just a month ago, when Joe Cole turned sixteen, the club had offered him a generous professional contract. He had been riding high lately, never expecting a night out with the older players would lead to such a predicament!
"Tell me what happened last night."
Joe Cole steadied himself, barely able to sit down, but Nagy kindly motioned for him to take a seat, and he began recounting the events.
After having dinner with his family on Christmas Day, he was basically bored and received a text message from Ferdinand. The curious young man felt like an adult and decided to check out the nightlife, so he went to a club with some friends.
However, by midnight, he felt sleepy. Just then, Ferdinand shocked them all by introducing over thirty call girl. Joe Cole was nearly scared to death.
While he wasn't exactly a model citizen, he was only sixteen and felt utterly shy under the spotlight, so he hurriedly left the club with his friends. He had no idea what happened next—he swore he was telling the truth.
In contrast, a year older, Ashley Cole was much more relaxed; when Joe left, Ashley was already happily chatting up two older women.
Aldrich was simply curious about the whole night; he had a plan in mind regarding punishment, but it didn't involve gauging anyone's actions with women or the quantity involved.
The two coaches and the anxious Joe Cole continued waiting in the meeting room for the rest of the notified players to arrive one by one.
Each time someone entered, Aldrich would ask them about last night's events. Some shared detailed accounts, leading Aldrich to tell them to hush, while others were too embarrassed to speak, suddenly pretending to be innocent.
By evening, the three main figures of last night finally showed up, reportedly the ones who financed the party.
Mills, Ferdinand, and Lampard.
When they arrived, the atmosphere instantly shifted to one of palpable tension.
Aldrich, sitting at the head of the table with his chin raised, glared at the trio; they shifted awkwardly in their seats, quickly bowing their heads in shame.
The aftermath of last night's exploits made the news even bigger than yesterday's loss by the defending champions. It seemed that Millwall players throwing a wild party had an explosive impact on headlines.
Yes, any outcome from the Millwall versus Manchester United match would be news, but the players' party felt like a bombshell explosion.
Once scornful of Liverpool's notorious players, Aldrich found his own disciples now repeating those same mistakes. Could it get any more explosive?
Ah, but it wasn't explosive enough.
Why weren't there any bigger names involved?
If only Pirlo, Schneider, Southgate, Trezeguet, Nedved, or Larsson could have joined the fun—how wonderful that would have been!