Chapter 284: An Unspeakable Disgrace

Chapter 284: An Unspeakable Disgrace The three main characters didn't dare look Aldrich in the eye. The heavy silence in the meeting room was unbearable for many young players, who bowed their heads and closed their eyes, as if awaiting their fate like prisoners on death row.

"You've given me a Christmas gift I'll never forget!" Aldrich said coldly.

Ferdinand raised his head, still avoiding Aldrich's glare, and stammered, "Boss, the truth isn't what the papers say. It wasn't my idea; it was my friends."

At least the initial intention of hitting the nightclub didn't stem from throwing a wild party.

These players had received new contracts six months earlier with substantial pay raises—young and rich.

Christmas was a time when everyone had the chance to go out and have fun, so they gathered to hit the clubs. It started with drinks, dancing, and singing, but as the group grew, they realized there were no women around. The "good girls" they knew weren't attractive, so they opted to hire some pretty call girls, which was a decision made by Ferdinand's friends without his input.

Ferdinand, still young and wanting to save face, didn't speak up.

Men are sensitive when it comes to socializing with women. Rejecting an invitation can often lead to ridicule or misunderstandings.

Aldrich's cold laughter echoed in response to Ferdinand's attempts at an explanation.

"Friends? Sure. Which superstar has ever gone down without the influence of their buddies? There's always a crowd around them."

"What a pathetic excuse. Gascoigne had plenty of friends too."

It's worth noting that at this point, Gascoigne was perhaps the most typical living example of such a situation.

When Gascoigne became a national sensation and moved to Italy, the BBC actually sent a film crew to follow him around 24/7, capturing snippets of his life to air back in Britain, which garnered decent ratings. This alone demonstrated his fame and influence.

Wherever Gascoigne went, there was always a crowd of friends—speeding in cars, drinking, and partying to excess, even handcuffing himself to a chair and spending a night in a hotel like a convict.

Players with lifestyles like this—how do they even manage to rest properly?

Even if you're blessed with divine talent, it can all be squandered bit by bit, can't it?

In 1996, Gascoigne scored one of the most spectacular goals in European Championship history, but just a year later, during the summer, he came to London with Glasgow Rangers to play a friendly against Millwall. It was just a friendly, yet it ignited the city's excitement.

Unfortunately, Gascoigne's performance in that match was unimpressive. The Millwall players genuinely wanted to compete against him, but at thirty, Gascoigne felt more like forty. Many thirty-year-old veterans in the Premier League seemed more threatening, not to mention Cantona, who was leading Manchester United to victory at thirty.

The players were all disappointed after that match, regardless of their age.

The audience sighed in unison: Gascoigne was finished.

This was the pain felt by England fans—an emotional scar they didn't wish to peel open.

Aldrich's indifferent eyes fixed on Ferdinand as he spoke in a low voice, "Rio, if Henrik sat in your seat today, I'd be deeply saddened because he has stopped progressing after reaching the pinnacle of individual honors. I would feel regret for him. However, today it's you, Frank, and Danny; I feel nothing but anger and disappointment. The anger weighs heavier because you've not only failed to set an example but have also led others astray. The disappointment comes from realizing that you could have reached Henrik's level, yet you seem lacking in confidence and unwilling to strive for it. I don't expect every player to become a saint, but you must understand that your life and profession are interconnected and mutually influential. If your personal life is a mess, it will undoubtedly affect your work."

"Boss, I—"

Ferdinand quickly interjected, his feelings mirrored by Lamps and Mills. They were all terrified of Aldrich's cold demeanor, which made it feel like they were complete strangers.

"Let me finish! We're all men here. There's no need for pretense; it's normal to like women. But I don't endorse treating women as mere sources of amusement, especially when you decide to invite teammates along. This not only damages your own image but also severely tarnishes the club's reputation. I won't tolerate this! The damage has been done; your lives are your own. If this ever happens again, be ready to strip off the Millwall jersey. As for today's punishment, all three of you will face a two-week fine, along with a month demotion to the reserves. If the reserves coach reports that your performance isn't satisfactory after a month, you'll stay there."

Turning his gaze to the youth players, Aldrich continued, "Your penalties will be determined by Coach Nagy. Just a piece of advice: if you don't learn from this, when ten years or twenty years pass and you see some of your former teammates becoming superstars and legends, don't be envious."

With that, Aldrich stood up to leave, and Nagy followed with the other youth players.

As for the four first-team players, Richard Wright, the third-choice goalkeeper, was already a marginal figure, as it's very difficult for keepers to move up. His sense of crisis wasn't as strong as that of Lamps, Ferdinand, or Mills.

The three were utterly dejected.

After a night of debauchery, it was time to report to the reserves.

Previously, they couldn't make the first-team list, so they had participated in reserve matches to maintain their form and improve. Now, they were a fixed part of the reserve team's roster.

Aldrich not only fined them but also made them ineligible to play for the first team for a month, which indirectly led to a reduction in their income—a double blow.

As for their personal outings, Aldrich had never bothered to intervene. Even if someone wanted to indulge in a wild night out, as long as it remained personal behavior, Aldrich was only concerned with how they performed on the pitch.

But the collective actions of several players would directly bring the club into the spotlight.

At the pre-match press conference before Millwall's visit to Highbury, no reporters asked about the upcoming match; all attention was focused on the Christmas party incident.

The call girls later sold their firsthand accounts to the tabloids, flooding the media with negative stories about Millwall.

Detailed reports about which players preferred particular positions or had bizarre fetishes surfaced, with some players being generous and others being stingy enough not to leave tips. seaʀᴄh thё Nôvel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Aldrich appeared calm during the press conference, but was inwardly pressed by the sharp questions from reporters, feeling exposed and humiliated.

One player chasing after women isn't too big of a deal.

When a whole group gets involved, however, it clearly points to managerial negligence on Aldrich's part.

How could Aldrich, who was named Best Manager for three consecutive years in the same division, find himself in such an embarrassing situation?

Last season, he won a treble, and this season, his team marched through the Champions League with a perfect record and produced a Ballon d'Or winner. How grand it all seemed!

Yet less than a week later, he found himself on stage, grilled by reporters with sensational questions.

What an absolute disgrace!

When one reporter asked, "Mr. Hall, your age is similar to the players'—why didn't you intervene immediately? Were you hesitating whether to join in on that party? After all, your girlfriend's in the States; you must feel lonely, right?"

Aldrich's face flushed with anger.

Forcing himself to suppress the urge to walk out was humiliating!

Feeling slightly despondent, he could only maintain a serious tone as he said, "I will not allow events like this to occur under my management, as it is detrimental to the players' professional development. The internal penalties have been issued: Ferdinand, Mills, and Lampard are demoted to the reserves, and their return to the first team will depend on their performance while there."

The reporters in attendance remained unfazed, with one pressing further, "What if something similar happens again? Will they still be sent to the reserves? Perhaps some players are just tired and want a break; they could use this as a reason to relax in the reserves."

Aldrich scoffed quietly, then raised his head sharply, stating, "If something like this happens again, I don't care who the player is—whether it's the first or second offense—Millwall will permanently part ways with that player."

"Oh, well that simplifies things. Any player wanting to transfer only has to throw a party and invite the press to achieve that, and they won't even be seen as traitors, but instead as players discarded by the club, huh?"

Aldrich found himself at a loss for words as he exited the press conference. Once in the corridor, he turned to Yvonne, who had been following him, and asked, "Where did those reporters come from?"

"Most were from the tabloids."

"Permanently revoke their access to Millwall press conferences. Remember my words: permanently!"

Aldrich had never felt so publicly humiliated.

Today's press conference was livelier than usual, but the prominent reporters from respected outlets like The Times or Daily Mail didn't ask a single question.

They know the tabloids will step in like clowns to give them the scoop on the news. They prefer to let the tabloids do the dirty work and distance themselves from the Millwall clashes, understanding that Aldridge is likely to be at the club for a long time and is best served without making enemies.

Several tabloids were placed on Millwall's permanent blacklist, losing their press privileges indefinitely.

The first-team players learned from the news about the events that transpired during Christmas.

They felt no sympathy for Lampard, Ferdinand, and Mills being sent to the reserves.

Especially after seeing Aldrich attacked and ridiculed by those tabloid reporters, their anger toward the instigators was palpable.

Aldrich, who had brought them glory with his trophies, was now shamed by their foolish actions. Even Southgate couldn't defend his fellow countrymen in the locker room; he was too upset to say anything, particularly as he felt anger toward his compatriots' behavior.

In ordinary times, they had many leisurely outlets, such as golf or snooker, where players like Southgate, Larsson, Shevchenko, and Nedved would enjoy each other's company.

And even if they felt unable to escape the lure of women, couldn't they be like Makélélé?

Marry a beautiful wife and keep her at home, without the need to seek pleasure elsewhere?

Under the negative impact of this scandalous party, Aldrich led his depleted Millwall team to Highbury to face Arsenal, who were four points ahead in the standings.

Wenger was eagerly awaiting this London derby, looking forward to a battle between the Gunners and The Lions. This clash between their two eras—the Wenger era and Aldrich's—was officially set to unfold.