The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 127: historic day

Before the national team news broke, it was Aldrich who unexpectedly became the headline on Fleet Street during the FIFA match day. His whirlwind day made the front pages of major newspapers.

Though his "community service" seemed like a publicity stunt, no one could criticize him for it. The environmental slogan scrawled on his sports jacket even earned praise from the Mayor of London, as Britain has long been an advocate for environmental protection.

That evening, during a promotional event for the Spice Girls' new album, Melanie wore an outfit emblazoned with the same slogan. Aldrich had not discussed it with her beforehand; she must have picked up the news during the day and decided to add a spontaneous touch of synergy that benefited both of them.

Some TV stations even edited together footage of Aldrich's day and aired it that night as a special feature titled "Special Volunteer." Over the following days, Aldrich's fame reached new heights, increasing his influence further.

The Times published an article on Friday where a reporter pointed out that while experts debated the value of Millwall players, who had ever calculated Aldrich-Hall's worth? In the opinion of the writer, Millwall's star player was neither Larson, nor Nedved, nor any other names, but Hall himself. If Hall were to leave Millwall, more than 80% of the fans would reevaluate their view on the club, downgrading Millwall's competitiveness by at least one tier. Hall, this young coach, has charisma rivaling that of any top stars and coaches in the Premier League. Of course, he needed trophies to validate himself, but let's hypothetically assume he could prove himself with a championship; how much would his value rise then?

In those days, Aldrich worked as a janitor, visited nursing homes, orphanages, and accompanied several players to hospitals. This behavior was encouraged by their agent Andrew, as it helped them establish a positive public image, all while carrying the colors of Millwall Football Club.

Even the fierce rivals, West Ham United and Chelsea, couldn't accuse Aldrich of seeking fame through his philanthropic actions during this period.

One undeniable truth was that the celebrity effect was indeed significant. When an ordinary person urges kindness towards the young and old, it lacks the impact compared to when the same words come from a celebrity's mouth.

Aldrich was effectively doing free public service announcements, which society needed and the public genuinely appreciated, hoping for more such initiatives.

Now, not only did Millwall fans admire Aldrich, but an increasing number of neutral fans were turning into his supporters. This support would reflect back on Millwall FC, evident in the sales of jerseys and memorabilia.

His off-field charity work and volunteer efforts were not the primary focus of Aldrich's job, so despite the media frenzy, the majority of his time remained dedicated to his core responsibilities.

After the FIFA match day, Millwall maintained their momentum, delivering a resounding win that pushed Southampton deeper into the relegation zone. However, the atmosphere at Millwall FC became tense as they were poised for a historic moment.

The mood during training shifted strangely. While the players usually trained hard under their coach's supervision, occasionally sharing jokes to lighten the mood, they had grown oddly quiet as the League Cup final approached, burying themselves in their drills.

It felt like the calm before a storm.

Aldrich hadn't been in the profession long enough to possess a wealth of experience. Never mind him—this was Millwall FC's first cup final in its 110-year history.

He wasn't panicking; instead, he was taking it all in stride, relieving his stress by assuring himself that even if they lost, it wouldn't matter because there would be more days ahead.

However, he knew he had to find a way to win—that was his job.

He was at a loss, unsure whether to ease the players' tension or push them to focus more seriously.

The first choice risked making the players underestimate their opponents. The second choice had its own drawbacks; he worried that too much seriousness might inhibit their performance.

Caught in a dilemma, Aldrich decided to convene the entire coaching staff for a meeting.

His fellow coaches acknowledged the situation, and when Aldrich sought their advice, they all exchanged bewildered glances, having no solutions to offer.

After all, they were all in the same boat—this was their first time navigating this scenario.

While Aldrich had some experience working at Ajax, he was not included in the first team, which meant he couldn't access the locker room and was uncertain about how to navigate the preparations for the upcoming match.

After much deliberation, Aldrich concluded that he would prefer to err on the side of caution; rather than risk the players producing a lackluster performance by relaxing too much, he would rather let them enter the final stage with high enthusiasm for battle.

In the locker room after training, Aldrich would play a well-known piece of music while the players rested.

"Blanca's Song"—rumored to have once been the anthem of the Nazi army during World War II, it was later transformed into the classic "The Mass" by the famous musical group Era.

This was an undeniably stirring piece of music, capable of igniting a man's fighting spirit.

The upcoming weekend's final was meaningful for most of the players; it could be their first trophy as professionals and Aldrich's first as a coach.

This weighed heavily on every Millwall fan's mind.

After 110 years of waiting, would the long championship drought finally end on the last Sunday of February 1996?

After training on Saturday, Aldrich returned to his parents' villa in the eastern suburbs and spent the night there.

The next day, sharply dressed in a suit, he was kissed on the forehead by his mother and embraced by his father before heading out.

Aldrich walked out of the villa, maintaining a calm demeanor as he drove to the club.

Meanwhile, Arthur and his wife remained at home. Amelia asked Arthur, "Will we be in the same box as Ellis this afternoon?"

Arthur scoffed, "No way. I don't want to conflict with some old man with cancer."

"Aren't you two good friends?"

"Please. He just uses me to make Bates jealous. The way he looks at me is like I'm some lackey. Bah! Just because he has money, big deal. In a few years, our family will be wealthier than he is."

The Ellis they were referring to was Doug Ellis, the owner of Aston Villa, a wealthy tycoon whose businesses spanned nearly twenty different fields. However, he was quite stingy with investments in Aston Villa, opting instead for a model that aimed for self-sustainability.

Approaching seventy, Doug Ellis was suffering from prostate cancer and loved to show off his affluence. He often cruised around in a flashy red Rolls-Royce and had, six months prior, invited Chelsea owner Bates to vacation on his yacht, only for Bates to rudely comment about the yacht's poor food in front of him, which deeply offended Ellis, prompting a rift between them.

He then sought out Arthur, who had been in an argument with Bates during a roundtable meeting. Although Arthur had a rough background, he was cunning enough to navigate Ellis with a semblance of friendliness, partly as a way to get back at Bates, seeing it as mere amusement.

But today was the day Millwall and Aston Villa were fighting for the League Cup title, and Arthur knew he couldn't keep messing around with Ellis anymore. If they ended up in the same box together, Arthur felt sure something would go wrong. If Aston Villa won, Arthur might just smash up the private box. If Millwall won, he'd probably get too carried away celebrating, and Ellis wouldn't be able to take it.

Arthur had already planned that during this exceptionally special day, he wanted to stand in the stands alongside his old mates, just as their fathers had cheered for the team back at the Den.

The rest of his family could go to the box, but he wouldn't.

For the last one hundred ten years, since Arthur could remember, his grandfather, father, and father had repeated a single refrain countless times:

"Millwall has no trophies."

Who would believe him if he said he didn't care?

The first trophy had been too long in coming; it felt as if eons had passed, with a sea changing to mulberry, while countless youthful dreams faded into the grave...

Today, Arthur felt immense pride; his son would surely end the club's long drought of triumph. He was confident beyond measure.

And this was a day that he, along with many brothers long gone, carried the hopes of their ancestors into the grave, a day they had to witness shoulder to shoulder.

Shortly after noon, traffic began to clog along the northbound routes from East London to North London.

The reason? The Millwall supporters began to flow toward Wembley Stadium in north-west London. The venue, which could hold over sixty thousand fans, was destined to be sold out; tickets allocated to both teams had disappeared, and even ticket scalpers weren't dampening the fervor of Millwall supporters eager to gain entry.

As for Aston Villa, they had once basked in glory, reaching the pinnacle of Europe fourteen years ago, but that seemed to be their last hurrah, having not touched a top-flight league trophy since then. However, they did possess the League Cup, champions in '94, marking this as their second final in three years.

Unlike Millwall, which faced relatively weaker opponents on their way to the final, Aston Villa had taken down several strong contenders, suggesting a more substantial worth to their ticket to the final.

Their remarkable success had set the stage for heightened expectations heading into the final.

Now, Millwall, currently ranking third in the Premier League, faced off against Aston Villa, in fifth place; it was undoubtedly a clash of titans, even if the names might not ring as loudly.

As the team buses entered Wembley, Aldrich gazed out the window to see a blue sea of fans. Even those without tickets had come to support their team from the closest possible distance.

Aldrich told himself, "Maybe I could afford to lose for myself, but for them, losing is absolutely not an option!"

With a soft hiss, the bus came to a stop, and the doors swung open.

Aldrich stood up first, turning away and firmly saying, "Millwall."

The players instinctively shouted back, "Charge!"

"Get off the bus."

Aldrich stepped off the bus first.

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