In Europe, beyond dostic rivalries—derbies, feuds, and partnerships—there exists a web of intricate relationships among the elite clubs. Millwall, as a rising powerhouse, is keen to avoid unnecessary enmities. Alienating influential giants, akin to G14 challenging UEFA, would be self-defeating. Harmony and collaboration pave the way for broader opportunities, particularly for securing world-class players when self-sufficiency falters.
Juventus, for instance, wields imnse influence in Serie A but has shown little respect for Millwall, leaving no foundation for constructive dialogue. Conversely, figures like Adriano Galliani, the affable AC Milan executive, have cultivated mutual respect and cooperation with Aldrich over the years. While Galliani hasn't exactly gone above and beyond for Millwall, his support has strengthened trust and reinforced ties.
Millwall owes its G14 mbership in part to AC Milan's efforts. Although this stemd from Galliani's pursuit of Millwall players, the collaboration was mutually beneficial, fostering goodwill without harming either side. Aldrich appreciates such balanced dealings and sees them as a model for future partnerships.
He doesn't expect Millwall to emulate the half-century-long camaraderie between Manchester United and Real Madrid, exemplified by monts like Bernabéu's support during United's darkest days or his gracious words after a defeat to United. Such storied intersections belong to the past. Millwall now aims to forge its own legacy, creating tales that fans will recount fifty or a hundred years from now.
It was with this vision that Aldrich invited the last reigning dynasty, AC Milan, to inaugurate Millwall's new stadium. Galliani readily accepted, reflecting the enduring friendship between the two clubs. A grand opening demanded a worthy opponent, and few could rival AC Milan's historical stature and influence.
After a pleasant conversation with Galliani, Aldrich entered a bustling VIP suite. His arrival montarily silenced the room before Arthur broke into laughter, rushing forward to embrace him.
"Congratulations, son," Arthur said solemnly, gripping Aldrich's hand. "You've beco the greatest figure in Millwall's history—a hero to every fan."
Aldrich grinned and wrapped an arm around Arthur's neck. "And aren't you a hero too, Mr. Chairman?"
Arthur laughed. "? I'm just riding your coattails. Everyone knows I'm the club's lucky charm—a re mascot."
"A mascot, huh? Keeping the demons away? Ha!"
After parting from Arthur, Aldrich hugged Barnett, his elder brother, and exchanged a few words with his nephew, Bowen. The suite was packed with family, friends, and even Aldrich's old companion, Carter.
In a corner, lanie stood by a comfortable seat where Bert and Earl, their one-year-old twins, gazed curiously out at the stadium. Next to them sat another young boy, around the sa age. Behind him, a fashionable couple smiled warmly at Aldrich—the parents of Brooklyn Beckham.
"Mr. Hall, congratulations. Today is a monuntal day for you and Millwall," David Beckham said, extending a hand.
"Thank you, David," Aldrich replied, shaking it firmly.
Beckham had been dragged along by Victoria, likely as company for lanie. Aldrich turned to the two won and smiled. "Congratulations on your new album—it's doing incredibly well."
Victoria's sharp wit cut through. "Oh? Did you buy it?"
Caught off guard, Aldrich stamred, "Uh, well, work's been hectic... but with the new season starting, I'll make sure every player gets a copy as a gift."
Victoria bead and turned to lanie. "See? n always talk big but rarely act. When called out, they scramble to make ands."
lanie chuckled softly but said nothing.
Victoria gave Beckham a subtle look. He imdiately picked up Brooklyn, and the two made their way to the other side of the VIP suite, ordering so food and sitting down to enjoy it.
Aldrich crouched down in front of Bert and Earl, his two sons. What happened next left him stunned.
"Daddy!"
Aldrich stared at them in disbelief, then turned to lanie. "They can talk already?"
Seeing his startled expression, lanie couldn't stop laughing, covering her mouth as if trying to hold back.
When she finally managed to stop, and after Aldrich had showered his sons with enough kisses, lanie explained with a sigh, "They've started recognizing people. One day, when you were away in Liverpool, they kept touching the TV screen while it showed you attending a press conference in Asia. I took one of your photos and taught them to call you 'Daddy.' It worked well—at least they're not calling other people that by mistake."
Aldrich gently held the tiny, innocent hands of his sons, a pang of guilt welling up inside him.
He had initially planned to visit Liverpool during this trip back to London, but Rooney's incident made him cancel. He didn't want the dia frenzy to disrupt his sons' and lanie's parents' lives.
Checking the ti, Aldrich realized he needed to head out to the field for the match. Reluctantly, he kissed his sons' foreheads one last ti, stood up, and approached lanie.
"Can they stay in London for a couple of days?" he asked softly.
lanie locked eyes with him and countered, "Why don't you just let stay here too?"
Aldrich averted his gaze and shook his head. "We've already discussed this. It's over."
Though he had moved on, he and lanie hadn't turned into enemies. As the father of Bert and Earl, and with lanie as their mother, their connection ensured they could never beco strangers.
If Aldrich wanted his sons to stay in London a bit longer, it had to be with lanie's approval.
After a mont of thoughtful silence, lanie's expression softened. She nodded. "Three days. I'll co to pick them up then."
Aldrich smiled, nodded in agreent, and bade farewell to everyone in the suite before heading to the pitch. On his way, he muttered to himself, "I asked for two days, and you gave three. What are you really thinking..."
As soon as Aldrich stepped onto the pitch and entered the crowd's view, the entire stadium erupted in thunderous cheers. The roar only grew louder with each passing second.
Millwall's fan groups had taken their places across the stands, their banners stretching proudly along the edges of the upper tier.
One banner caught everyone's attention—a list of the trophies won over the past six years. The 1994-95 First Division title glead, but the years before 1994 were sumd up in one haunting word: Waiting...
Waiting for what?
The answer seed clear: for the arrival of Aldrich, the King they had long awaited.
The South Stand belonged to the Roaring Lions fans, their voices echoing like a battle cry as they dominated the scene.
Above the crowd, a breathtaking banner captured everyone's attention. It showed Aldrich, hand-drawn in striking detail, pointing decisively toward the field as if commanding victory.
The lion from Millwall's crest lood in the background, alongside the bold proclamation: King of Europe!
Other stands featured banners from various fan groups: Nedvěd portrayed as an indomitable iron warrior with the title "War God," Ronaldinho depicted mid-dribble as "The Elf," and Henry and Larsson roaring with clenched fists under the label "Kings of Killers."
These banners, created by fans, were approved by the club as long as they carried positive ssages and t stadium requirents. Even if players transferred in the future, banners related to them would only be removed after discussions between the club and fan groups.
Before the match began, Aldrich shook hands with AC Milan's head coach, Zaccheroni, thanking him for bringing his team for this montous friendly and expressing his apologies for the slight delay.
The reason for the delay? Millwall's team photo for the new season was scheduled to be taken during the stadium's opening ceremony.
This year, it wasn't just Millwall's staff capturing the mont; countless Fleet Street reporters clamored for angles to record this historic day.
The first-team squad, decked out in their new season kits, stepped onto the pitch, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.
As staff arranged benches on the field, Aldrich, all smiles, gathered his coaching staff for a little fun.
"Villas, your tie is crooked!" Aldrich shouted.
Villas-Boas imdiately looked down, trying to straighten his tie and even asking Klinsmann for help. Klinsmann laughed and said, "He's ssing with you!"
The first-team coaching staff sat on the bench with smiles on their faces. Aldrich sat in the center, wearing a calm grin, while the first-team players stood behind them.
The photographer, clearly frustrated, looked up with a wry smile and said, "Aldrich, can you please control your players?"
Aldrich, still holding his pose, noticed the delay and asked curiously, "What's the matter?"
"Take a look at who's behind you."
Turning around, Aldrich caught sight of Ronaldinho standing upright, hands clasped behind his back, sporting a hilariously serious expression. Without needing further explanation, Aldrich knew exactly what had happened. He playfully scolded, "Cut it out! Do you want to deal with you today?"
The team burst into laughter. Monts earlier, Ronaldinho had been gesturing mischievously above Aldrich's head.
After the photographer gave a thumbs-up, the official team photo for Millwall's new season was finally completed.
Aldrich gestured toward the sideline, calling Nagy over with the youth coaches and players to join them on the field.
This year marked a milestone for the club—a year of positive influence at every level. Aldrich wanted the youth players to share in the mont.
The group shot, now consisting of over 100 people, was far less formal. Aldrich wrapped an arm around Nagy's neck as they stood in the middle, surrounded by players.
Suddenly, a head popped into Aldrich's line of sight. Looking down, he saw Cristiano Ronaldo staring back at him, full of righteous indignation.
"Boss, why am I not in the first-team squad? I swear I'm ready for the Premier League!" Ronaldo declared confidently.
Without hesitation, Aldrich pushed Ronaldo's face back toward the crowd and laughed. "If I send you to the Premier League now, you'll be crippled before adulthood. Be patient! Next sumr, bring the Youth League and FA Youth Cup trophies, and then we'll talk."
"So if I win those trophies, I can play in the Premier League?" Ronaldo pressed, as if negotiating a deal.
Aldrich, still holding his pose, pushed Ronaldo's head back toward the cara and retorted, "Bring those trophies first, you little brat!"
"I'm almost an adult!" Ronaldo shot back.
"You're not even 16 yet. Don't exaggerate! Focus on the cara."
Getting over 100 people to face forward proved to be a challenge, but the final result was decent. The clearest figure in the photo? Lionel ssi, standing in the front row—a natural outco given his height.
Millwall 2000–2001 First-Team Squad
Goalkeepers: Butt, Keller, Chris Kirkland.
Defenders: Schneider, Ferreira, Materazzi, Southgate, Barzagli, tzelder, Neill, Zambrotta, Ashley Cole.
Midfielders: Gattuso, Pirlo, Nedvěd, Pedretti, Lampard, Alonso, Larmore, Joe Cole.
Forwards: Larsson, Henry, Ronaldinho, Gronkjaer, Klose, Villa.
Total: 26 players.
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