Chapter 40: A Hard-Fought Draw

Chapter 40: A Hard-Fought Draw The Ayasofya Park Stadium fell into a hushed silence; the jubilant cheers of the Middlesbrough fans abruptly ended, replaced by the wild roars of the Millwall Lions supporters.

No one expected Nedvěd to appear at the edge of the penalty area—no one!

In the first nine rounds of the league, Nedvěd had played in eight matches, and he had always stuck close to the center circle, primarily retreating to defend rather than making any daring forward runs.

Even Brian Robson, who studied Millwall's tactics, hadn't listed Nedvěd as a potential match-winner.

But when Nedvěd scored that brilliant equalizer, Brian Robson gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

He could clearly hear Aldrich's ecstatic scream from not far away, the roar of that fierce face beneath the wild golden hair was not just a release of energy; it was a declaration of victory!

In his heart, Brian Robson silently thought: "Boss, you were wrong. This isn't a Millwall team to underestimate; this is a Millwall team that will challenge the English football scene in the future!"

In the twenty minutes after Middlesbrough regained the lead, Brian Robson watched a calm and commanding Millwall team take control of the match.

They not only accelerated the pace of the game, tiring Middlesbrough's defense, but they also achieved a tactical victory!

This kind of aggressive and purposeful pressure, along with the execution of their tactics, was something that Brian Robson had only seen from top teams during his twenty-year career in football. S~eaʀᴄh the Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

After Nedvěd's goal, teammates rushed towards him from all directions, but he tore at his jersey and roared in excitement while sprinting towards the away team's bench.

His focus was on Aldrich, who was kneeling on the sidelines, raising his arms and screaming towards the sky. Although Aldrich was soon engulfed by his coaching staff in a tidal wave of joy, Nedvěd still charged towards him.

Flashes of his brief moments with Aldrich filled Nedvěd's mind.

Less than two years ago, while at Sparta Prague, the team's coach had told him he was a player with no future, that he was just lucky to sit on the bench at Sparta Prague.

Those words were etched in Nedvěd's heart, driving him to train diligently every day, yet he was still just a substitute at Sparta.

In the summer of '94, when clubs were willing to spend over a million pounds—a "ridiculous" sum on him—he had thought they were joking.

After arriving in London, Aldrich had a heart-to-heart discussion with Nedvěd.

Nedvěd had never encountered a coach so young and so serious about his work as Aldrich.

Aldrich not only analyzed Nedvěd's strengths and weaknesses but also presented a meticulous training plan, explicitly stating that if Nedvěd worked hard, the rewards would be extraordinary.

He wasn't just a foot soldier; he had immense talent and skill. Although he played in midfield, he could become the key player who would decide matches.

Nedvěd patiently waited, doing whatever Aldrich asked of him, holding back his desire to participate in attacks unless Aldrich allowed it. Deep down, he understood that everything Aldrich did was for his benefit.

Just moments after they conceded the goal, Aldrich's tactical instructions were clear. The equalizer had to come not from the left flank or the right, but from an unexpected source: him, Pavel Nedvěd!

When Nedvěd finally achieved that, everything else faded away.

He sprinted from Middlesbrough's penalty area to Aldrich, grabbing Aldrich's suit and excitedly shouting, "Boss, did you see that? Did you see? We did it! We did it!"

Aldrich hugged him tightly, repeatedly saying, "Well done! Well done!"

Other Millwall players also rushed over, surrounding the embracing pair of Nedvěd and Aldrich.

Their celebration only came to an end when the referee came over to issue a warning.

Aldrich shouted to the returning players, "Let's go! Let's get another one!"

Brian Robson, hearing this nearby, was left dumbfounded.

The scoreboard showed 91 minutes; the fourth official finally raised the sign for four additional minutes.

With less than three minutes left, did Aldrich really want to take a victory back from this away match?

However, when Robson looked at his players, he found them all dejected, their morale had plummeted.

Victory had slipped through their fingers, and the psychological toll was apparent.

Millwall had equalized, and now they were energized, seeming to forget their fatigue, playing like eleven roaring lions!

Robson shook his head; he definitely did not want to see a collapse that would lead to defeat.

Substituting three defensive players, Middlesbrough kicked off but simply kept knocking the ball around at the back to run down the clock.

The referee blew the final whistle.

The showdown in the tenth round of League One: Middlesbrough vs. Millwall ended in a 2-2 draw, both teams sharing the points.

While both teams gained a point in the league, in terms of spirit, Millwall's players gained much more from this match than Middlesbrough.

Brian Robson walked over to Aldrich, and after shaking hands, they leaned in for a quiet conversation.

"Mr. Hall, today's match has given me a new respect for you and Millwall. Your team has an enviable future."

"Brian, I learned a lot today from you. Thank you. I'll be waiting for you at The Den next year, and we can sit down for a drink."

"It's a deal."

"Good luck."

The two coaches exchanged smiles as they parted ways, though Robson's smile held a hint of bitterness.

Aldrich couldn't say he was feeling triumphant; rather, he had just experienced a rollercoaster of emotions and achieved the results he desired, feeling a refreshing sense of relief.

As he passed through the interview area, the usual post-match press conference awaited Aldrich.

Despite Millwall being at the top of League One before the match, many believed Millwall would face defeat during this away trip, similar to their visit to Tranmere. However, after ninety minutes of battling, Millwall fought back to secure a draw, maintaining their position at the top of League One. Though the gap with the teams trailing them had narrowed, it was clear that Millwall was currently the most formidable team in League One.

"Mr. Hall, after securing a draw at Ayasofya Park Stadium, what are your thoughts? Could you evaluate the performances of both Middlesbrough and Millwall?"

Aldrich smiled and shook his head, "Unbelievable, just unbelievable. Millwall's performance today was impeccable. We played a great match; perhaps it's just League One, but it's important to remember that Millwall is still very young. As for Middlesbrough? They played excellently, showcasing the character of a strong team at home. They rarely made mistakes during the match and controlled the pace well. Aside from conceding two goals to Millwall, they were commendable. They are still the best team in League One; I'm confident that this season, Middlesbrough will remain the biggest favorites for the championship."

Aldrich nearly forgot to praise his own team. Remembering his approach with the media—generously praising the opponent was, in fact, a way to better praise oneself.

"Schneider's own goal put the team behind for a moment. What do you have to say about that?"

"That was just an ordinary mistake; nothing else matters. Without a doubt, Schneider was one of the standout players on the pitch today. He assisted his teammates for goals in both halves, and his performance at the end was deserving of the whole team's applause."

After a brief interview, Aldrich returned to the away team's dressing room. The players had already changed and were ready to head back. Seeing their happy faces, Aldrich called out before leaving, "Hey, your performance today deserves praise! Just like today, play with confidence and determination to win, and continue like this!"

"Okay, boss!"

The group responded with laughter and followed Aldrich as they left Ayasofya Park Stadium.

On the way back, Aldrich wore headphones and listened to music, feeling quite good.

Reflecting on the team's performance in the match, although it was just one game, Millwall's fighting spirit and resilience in adversity were truly commendable. Aldrich truly wanted to keep a player like Nedvěd for a lifetime. Undoubtedly, among the current Millwall players, Nedvěd could become the king of the lions!

Yet on this wonderful day, Aldrich was disturbed by a phone call that night.

"Aldrich, congratulations on achieving a draw away today. I watched the match tape, and Millwall was impressive."

Aldrich reclined on the couch, holding the home phone.

"The guy with the Scottish accent on the other end annoyed him, but he found it hard to be truly angry."

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Alex, just come out with it; which player's transfer possibility do you want to inquire about?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

"Brian heard that Larsson might be entering the transfer market."

"You want Larsson?"

"Manchester United needs a new forward."

"How much time can you give him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Larsson has only played in League One; previously, he was in the Netherlands. Adjusting to the Premier League, to Manchester United, takes time, doesn't it? How much of an adjustment period can you offer him?"

Silence fell again on the line.

Aldrich didn't outright refuse Ferguson; instead, he took a step back, trying to coax Ferguson to dismiss the idea himself.

Manchester United needed strikers, and they absolutely required proven strikers. Blackburn was on fire this season, and Shearer continued his divine form from last season.

"Are you rejecting me?"

Aldrich looked at the ceiling with a silent, bitter smile.

"If Manchester United digs up five million pounds and offers Larsson a contract over twenty thousand a week, what's the use of my refusal? Forcing him to stay will only create problems within the team, won't it?"

"Five million? You really dare to quote that!"

"Why not? I spent 1 million pounds on it, but I can only sell it for two or three million?"

"Forget it, for 5 million, I'd rather be ripped off by that bastard Keegan."

"That's right. Andy Cole has proven himself in the Premier League. Manchester United should not hesitate to recruit him."

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