Chereads / The Rise of Millwal / Chapter 559 - Healing Wounds, Building Confidence

Chapter 559 - Healing Wounds, Building Confidence

The victorious team makes no adjustments.

During halftime, Aldrich had nothing to add. The team had opened up the attack, leading by two goals. The opponent wasn't particularly strong. If it had been a tougher team, he might have emphasized the mental aspect. But now, it wasn't necessary. No need to praise the players either.

Facing Albania, a win was expected. If they lost, they'd be ridiculed mercilessly—it was as simple as that.

As the second half was about to begin, Aldrich walked onto the pitch, took a seat in the dugout, sipped some water, and calmly waited for the match to resume.

Two goals down, Albania couldn't justify sitting back any longer. They upped their attacking game slightly, only for it to backfire catastrophically.

It's the sad reality of being the underdog. Once you're behind, it's all or nothing. And don't start with that "losing narrowly is still a win" nonsense. Imagine being one of those players—would you really feel good about parking the bus, doing nothing for 90 minutes, and still losing? Then having to pretend that "losing less" is some kind of achievement?

Who's England's top star?

Beckham, of course.

In the first half, Albania had tightly marked Beckham as part of their defensive strategy.

However, the two English goals in the first half didn't come from Beckham appearing in threatening areas. Instead, Lampard posed a greater threat from the other flank.

This led to Albania relaxing their focus on Beckham in the second half.

In the 52nd minute, with no space ahead of him, Butt passed the ball to Beckham. Beckham played a one-two with Scholes, advancing to the right flank. Before his marker could close in, he delivered a perfect 45-degree cross.

Owen positioned himself in the center of the box, drawing defenders. However, the ball wasn't aimed at him. Beckham had targeted the far post on the left side of the penalty area.

A defensive misjudgment allowed McManaman to charge in from the far post and hammer the ball into the net with his right foot.

"Six or seven minutes into the second half, and England scores again! Beckham with the assist, McManaman with the finish. It's 3-0, game over!"

Aldrich rested his chin on his hand, watching the England players laughing and celebrating wildly on the pitch, his expression unchanged.

As he had mentioned during training, for England to resolve their offensive struggles, they first needed space. As long as they weren't trying to break through compact defensive lines, they had the ability to play fluid attacking football.

Previously, they couldn't manage this, partly due to a lack of variety in their attacking options. As seen in the Euros, shutting down Owen and Shearer was enough to neutralize 70% of England's offense.

Eight minutes later, McManaman shifted to the left wing, receiving the ball and beating a defender. Drawing two more defenders, he cut the ball back to the left side of the penalty area. Scholes, arriving on a late run, passed it back to the center of the box. Without stopping the ball, Owen fired a shot directly into the net.

"A hat-trick! Owen has completed his hat-trick. This goal was a masterpiece from McManaman, Scholes, and Owen. Absolutely brilliant!"

By the 60th minute, it was already 4-0.

Aldrich stood up and called for Gerrard and Heskey to warm up. Walking to the sidelines, he hoped to remind the players not to relax despite the scoreline.

Though he intended to ease up, he wouldn't tolerate complacency from his players.

Just as the substitutes were wrapping up their warm-ups, England scored again!

Owen, being a pure striker, relied on intelligent positioning and skillful movement rather than physical battles. His agility and precise finishing were what elevated him to the level of a world-class forward.

In the 64th minute, England launched a layered attack from midfield. Owen's off-the-ball movement created space. He made a diagonal run from the right side of the penalty area, receiving a short pass from Ashley Cole. Turning sharply, he left a defender lunging behind him and fired a low shot from a tight angle into the net.

"Incredible! Absolutely incredible from Owen! Four goals! And there are still over 25 minutes to play—how many more can he score? How many? He just can't stop!"

Even Owen himself couldn't believe it. He ran to the sideline and, as Ashley Cole sprinted over to celebrate with him, Owen made a rubbing-hands gesture in delight.

The crowd was ecstatic, with Liverpool fans on the verge of losing their minds with joy.

Aldrich, smiling faintly, gave a small round of applause before making the substitutions.

Hohl substituted Heskey for Owen, the standout performer of the match, who had scored an incredible four goals. Wembley erupted with applause as fans stood to honor Owen, a day he would remember for the rest of his life. Scoring four goals in a single match for the national team was a phenomenal achievement. Beckham, who had excelled both offensively and defensively, was also substituted, having made crucial interceptions, initiated attacks, and even provided an assist. Young Gerrard came on in his place.

Aldrich waited at the sideline to greet his two stars. He extended his right hand, only for Owen to give it a hearty slap, leaving Aldrich's palm stinging. Keeping his expression stoic, Aldrich endured the pain.

He expected Beckham to be gentler. But no—Beckham delivered an equally forceful slap.

Aldrich, still maintaining his composure, casually placed both hands behind his back, discreetly rubbing his sore palm with his left hand.

He assumed no one would notice, but the broadcasters at Wembley had installed an incredible number of cameras. On England's home ground, with a star manager like Aldrich, every move in the technical area was under constant watch.

As soon as they caught his subtle action from a rear-side camera, they quickly edited the footage and added it to the live broadcast.

The clip was pieced together with great continuity: Owen and Beckham gave Aldrich two hearty high-fives, and then the camera caught Aldrich in the background, quietly rubbing his sore palms. The crowd at the stadium didn't notice, but fans watching at home erupted in laughter. The pièce de résistance? A perfectly timed close-up of Aldrich's poker face to finish it off.

After standing for two more minutes until the pain subsided, Aldrich returned to the bench. As he sat, he noticed Jensen and Klinsmann wearing peculiar smiles.

"What are you two talking about?" he asked.

Klinsmann leaned closer and whispered, "We were wondering if tomorrow there'll be fresh gossip linking Millwall and Owen."

Aldrich thought for a moment—it wasn't out of the question.

Owen had scored four goals in his first match for the national team under his guidance, and Fleet Street would surely jump on the chance to blow it out of proportion.

Aldrich shook his head and returned his focus to the game. Those things didn't matter to him—Millwall didn't need a striker who only knew how to score goals like Owen.

After all, Owen scored four today against an easy opponent. When it came to playing the best teams, Aldrich wasn't expecting him to replicate that. If Owen could manage even 0.4 goals per game at that level, Aldrich would already be content.

By then, Albania had conceded five goals and had completely lost their spirit. The game was effectively over. England eased up, shifting to a more patient approach rather than relentless attacks.

The strategy remained unchanged, relying on dynamic runs to create opportunities.

As the final whistle blew, the scoreboard displayed an emphatic 6-0 victory.

Lampard managed to notch his first-ever national team goal with a long-range strike in the dying minutes.

This was yet another easy win, and Aldrich didn't see any obvious advantages or disadvantages in starting Lampard and Gerrard together. The opportunity to experiment was limited, and with Beckham always starting, only one of them could play from the outset.

When the match ended, Wembley erupted in thunderous cheers.

Aldrich rose and shook hands with Albania's head coach before clapping in gratitude to the fans as he made his way toward the players' tunnel.

Heading to the locker room, he waited around ten minutes for the players to return.

With the national team players beaming after their comfortable victory, Aldrich smiled and addressed them:

"Good work today, everyone. The international training and match period, which has lasted almost two weeks, is now coming to an end. We've made a solid start, but the road ahead is still tough. No one wants to miss the World Cup, and no one wants to end up in the附加赛. So, we have a long journey ahead to secure qualification. Each match matters, and we need to take it one step at a time. You can leave now and report back to your clubs. We'll meet again next month. I hope you stay healthy and keep your form. There are things I'd prefer not to have to reiterate as the national team coach, because your club coaches will surely drill them into you repeatedly, or even warn you about them. Please understand that my role as a coach is impartial, and everything I say is for your own good. What I want to emphasize is maintaining healthy lifestyle habits and improving your professionalism. This will help you reach the peak of your career and extend its longevity. Alright, the national team is dismissed for now. See you all next month."

Aldrich turned on his heels and began walking out.

"Coach, wait a moment."

Beckham's sudden call made him stop and turn around in surprise. What he saw brought a flicker of confusion to his face—Owen, Beckham, McManaman, and even the usually reserved Scholes were all smiling at him.

"Thank you."

The entire team spoke in unison, their voices not loud but carrying a kind of resonant power that shook the room.

The corners of Aldrich's mouth curved into a subtle smile. He turned back, opened the door, and left.

For this group of national players, today marked the true healing of their wounds from the European Championship and the dispelling of the months-long cloud of gloom.

They had arrived here with expectations, confusion, or even numbness. But in less than half a month, their outlook had undergone a dramatic shift.

Now, they were joyful, excited, and brimming with confidence. The youthful energy brought by the younger players had breathed new life into the squad, dispelling the air of stagnation and despair.

Aldrich's impact was palpable. Coaching a national team demanded immediate results, a stark contrast to managing a club.

At a club, patience was possible—a half-year or even an entire season could be dedicated to adaptation, adjustments, and rebuilding cycles.

But with a national team? A major tournament cycle lasted only two years. As soon as one tournament ended, qualifiers for the next would begin. There was no time or space to rebuild and fine-tune the team slowly.

None at all.

A managerial change had to be like sharpening a blade—instant and decisive.

Aldrich took the reins of the national team at its lowest point.

But this actually worked in his favor, making his ability to transform the team all the more evident, and making it easier to win the players over.

The worst of times, yet with the best of prospects.

Two friendly matches, then a game against Albania—two victories, or at the very least, one over Albania, and Aldrich would get through the initial questioning phase.

Thankfully, Albania was a push-over.

Next month's fixtures were also friendly matches, as England had completed their World Cup European Qualifying group stage for the year. The next match, an away game against Greece, was scheduled for March next year.

This schedule was, in many ways, ideal—an external environment that worked in their favor.

As the qualifiers progressed, England's strength would only grow. Apart from tactical maturity, the development of younger players would further enhance the team's overall capability.