Chapter 199: Cheers for Dean

Chapter 199: Cheers for Dean The Premier League's 32nd round of matches kicked off at the Den.

Leicester City had secured their place in the league without any worries, and after winning the League Cup in early March, their players were feeling a bit too relaxed. Martin O'Neill didn't want to put too much pressure on his team, especially since they were facing Millwall, the strongest team in the league.Although it was Millwall that Leicester City had knocked out of the League Cup, that match had primarily seen Millwall field a team of young players.

In the past, the atmosphere in the stands was always the loudest in the South Stand, but today was different. Fans were holding up banners all around the stadium.

"Dean, keep going!"

"Forever a Lion: Dean!"

"We're with you!"

The fans were disheartened to learn that Dean Richards was sidelined due to a strange illness. Richards was an impressive player, having helped Millwall rise from the Championship to the Premier League, and with last year's achievements of two trophies and a runner-up place, he had played over fifty matches for the club. Every Millwall fan firmly believed that Richards would be a reliable central defender in the team's future.

From the very first minute of the match, Millwall played with great intensity, their players full of spirit and entirely focused on the game.

Leicester City, looking a bit too relaxed, quickly faced the consequences.

Larsson had become exceptionally elusive with his runs, earning the nickname "the Phantom" from Fleet Street. His ability to exploit the gaps between full-backs and center-backs was now nothing short of remarkable. As soon as there was any space in the defensive line, he would pounce, ready for his instinctive teammates to deliver the ball right to his feet.

In just the ninth minute, it was Larsson's clever positioning that paid off. He made a darting run from the left flank into the heart of Leicester's defense, and Nedved's perfectly timed through ball sliced through the back line.

Everyone expected the prolific forward, who had already scored 31 league goals, to take a shot himself as he faced the advancing goalkeeper. Instead, Larsson chose to square the ball across the area, and Trezeguet was on hand to finish it into the empty net.

After scoring, Trezeguet ran to the sidelines, took off his jersey, and revealed a white undershirt with "Dean. Keep going!" boldly written across the front.

His teammates rushed over to stand beside him, pointing at Trezeguet's message and raising their fists in solidarity.

Since last year, FIFA had imposed a rule against shirt removal which meant Trezeguet received a yellow card for his actions, but he couldn't care less.

Aldrich stood up to applaud the team's performance but quickly took his seat again.

Benitez, ever the academic, was taking notes. Noticing Leicester City showed little determination to win, he turned to Aldrich for a chat.

"I'm interested to know why Trezeguet is such a key player for the team."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because he doesn't seem that special—his technical skills and speed aren't anything to write home about. If you put it next to Toni, I think Toni would outshine him in playmaking because he's physically built to challenge any Premier League center-back in the box."

Aldrich rested his chin on his hand and replied, "He plays at the front, so raw speed isn't everything. Beating the offside trap relies on awareness and explosive acceleration. As for his technical skills, it's true that David has a high error rate with forward passes and doesn't provide those flashy moments like brilliant dribbles leading to goals, but his positioning in front of goal, off-the-ball movements, and ability to create space at crucial moments in the box are top-notch. When he focuses on what he does best, he becomes Millwall's most suitable forward. For example, right now, he wouldn't attempt through balls—those aren't his strength—but his ability to lay off the ball is improving, providing Pavel with more opportunities. Also, I have a statistic at home that might interest you."

"What kind of statistic?"

"Scoring rates and shot accuracy for forwards. You might not believe it, but the scouting reports from our analysts indicate that Trezeguet is one of the most efficient forwards in the Premier League. He may not be the one scoring the most goals, but do you know how many of his ten shots hit the target?"

"..."

"Seven."

"Seventy percent accuracy?"

"Exactly! And do you know how many of those ten shots usually result in goals?"

"Er, maybe two?"

"Double that—four. So if he has three shots in a match, he's likely to score at least once."

Benitez pondered this for a moment and said, "I thought your focus on wing players' scoring might be why he doesn't stand out, but it actually increases his efficiency."

Aldrich replied, "David takes the fewest shots among Premier League forwards, yet he has the highest efficiency. When Millwall struggled in matches, critics would say he was invisible on the field. Those assessments usually come from people who haven't been to a live game; they only watch broadcasts or replays and fail to see the impact he has on Millwall's play. His contributions might not appear on camera, but he constantly works to stretch the opponent's defense and create space for his teammates. When he does appear in front of goal, it's typically in the critical moment where he makes it count. When the threat from the wingers surpasses that of the center forward, defenders shift their focus towards stopping them. This shift allows David to have more opportunity to score; thus, he posts an incredibly high efficiency."

The potency of Millwall's front line comes from how they creatively generate opportunities through varying threats.

As the match reached the 26th minute, the entire crowd rose in solemn silence, applauding continuously for a full minute.

Dean Richards wore the number 26, and the fans spontaneously turned this into a heartfelt prayer and blessing for him.

Aldrich joined the moment, standing to applaud, with other coaches and substitute players following suit.

The camera panned across the stadium as the commentators expressed their awe.

Millwall had produced countless classic matches this season, including double victories over Arsenal, double victories over Liverpool, and a stunning six-goal thrashing of Manchester United away. They had created many unforgettable moments, and today they were crafting yet another emotional Chapter.

Just three minutes after the applause faded, Schneider delivered a pinpoint diagonal pass from the right side into the box, where Larsson timed his leap perfectly to head the ball into the net, extending the score to 2-0.

After scoring, Larsson signaled to his teammates not to block him and ran towards the substitutes' bench, catching the jersey that Materazzi tossed to him and holding it high above his head.

It was the number 26 jersey belonging to Richards.

The applause at the Den erupted once more and showed no signs of stopping.

Fans were deeply moved.

They found it hard to believe just how united their Lions were at this moment.

Having witnessed the disintegration of Blackburn's mercenary squad, they feared that Millwall's players might scatter after achieving success. But seeing their heartwarming actions on the pitch made the fans believe that these players loved their team, cherished their teammates, and would stay and fight together.

While Leicester City didn't seem very motivated, Millwall was fired up for the game. and they also wanted to honor Dean Richards through their performance. This gave them immense drive over the full ninety minutes.

In the second half, Shevchenko scored twice, sealing the score at 4-0.

After the match, Aldrich invited Martin O'Neill to his office for a small gathering.

Aldrich congratulated O'Neill on winning the League Cup, and O'Neill reciprocated with wishes for Millwall to win the Premier League.

"Aldrich, sell me a player next season."

Taken aback by this request, Aldrich replied, "Is Leicester City going public before the summer transfer window? Otherwise, how can you afford to pay a high price for my players?"

It was a time of frenzy as Premier League clubs sought to go public; investors were eager to profit through various means, such as listing their clubs and diluting equity. Many had made tens of millions of pounds in profit within three years, with clubs like Everton, Aston Villa, and Manchester United leading the charge. S~eaʀᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

There were also rumors that Leicester City was preparing to go public, but nothing substantial had come to fruition.

Martin O'Neill shook his head and said, "We obviously can't afford your key players, but I'm interested in one of your substitutes."

"Who are we talking about? Is it Gronkjaer?"

"No, not him. You already said last time that he's not going anywhere, not even on loan. I'm talking about that Italian striker."

"Luca Toni?"

"Yep. I've looked into Millwall's roster, and besides the primary striker Trezeguet, your usual substitute is that Dutch lad. If you don't give that Italian a lot of game time, he'll waste away at Millwall. He needs experience to develop as a striker."

Aldrich sighed slightly.

O'Neill was right; strikers like Toni needed plenty of match experience to improve their ability to compete physically in the box. Otherwise, he could end up being a wasted talent.

"How would you use him?"

"If he joins my squad, I'll build a strategy around him."

They chatted for a while more. O'Neill's coaching philosophy was straightforward: solid defense and quick counterattacks. However, relying solely on this approach wouldn't work—it risked being too monotonous. Besides, as their strength increased, what if they had to defend against teams that were stronger?

Toni's physical strength allowed him to hold his ground in the box and receive the ball with his back to goal, whether they wanted to use direct play or penetrate through the middle; his presence would be significant. Aldrich compared him to Makelele, saying he was a player with definitive characteristics whose role was clear.

"But I don't want to sell him."

Aldrich has been a bit money-conscious lately, especially with the club's hefty debt of around ￡200 million tied to the new stadium and his brother's loans.

O'Neill chuckled, saying, "If you don't sell him, he'll just rot on Millwall's bench, and when you finally want to sell him, you won't be able to."

"Alright, I'll loan him to you for half a season to see how it goes. Honestly, if I sold him outright, he might not even want to join Leicester City."

"You're being crafty. I help you train the player, and in the end, he comes back from the loan, ruining the tactical system I worked so hard to build?"

"This is my plan: let him play for Leicester City for half a season. If he does well and you're satisfied, then we can extend the loan for another half season. Come next summer, if he's willing to move, I'd be sure that sending him to you would be the right decision. Then we can sit down and discuss the transfer."

O'Neill stared at Aldrich for a while before shaking his head with a wry smile. "In the end, you just don't want to lose out. If he performs well on my side, we'll negotiate a transfer next summer. Will the price be the same as this summer?"

Aldrich spoke seriously, "You should think about it this way: if you spend money to bring him in this summer and he doesn't adapt to Leicester City, that's a failed transfer. Starting with a loan at least gives you some reassurance. Even if you have to spend a little more next summer, it would feel right—and the value would be justified. Buying him outright this summer is a bit of a gamble. Can Leicester City afford that?"

O'Neill put down his glass and sighed, "I've gotta say, I'm really impressed with you. You should think about being a salesperson. Here's my offer: this summer, you loan him to me for half a season. You cover the salary, and the loan fee will be 0. How does that sound?"

Aldrich thought it over and replied, "For the sake of our friendship, Millwall can take a little hit."

"Hey, come on, don't be ridiculous, man!"