Capítulo 521: The Truth Behind
Andrew's sports agency was thriving, with over 200 signed players under its banner, most of whom were still Milwall's star players.
In an industry where every move mattered, tracking the contract statuses of top-tier players was part of their daily routine. Among those, one piece of crucial information emerged: Thierry Henry's agent contract was nearing its expiration. Since their collaboration began after Henry's triumph in the 1996 U-21 European Championship, the two had worked together for four years.
Typically, such contracts lasted two or three years at most. Henry's contract had been renewed every two years, and this year marked yet another renewal period.
This timing didn't just attract Andrew's attention. Agents, both seasoned veterans and ambitious rookies, were eyeing the opportunity to represent Henry. All claimed they were eager to serve him, but in reality, it was all about the money.
Henry's meteoric rise had surpassed even his own expectations, leaving him struggling to adapt. Two consecutive league titles, a Champions League trophy, top scorer accolades, and national team victories in international and continental competitions—this dreamlike success still felt surreal to him.
The only task he needed his agent to handle over the summer was straightforward: renew his contract with Milwall, hopefully securing a better deal.
Henry wasn't greedy; he wanted his £25,000 weekly salary raised to £40,000. That was all.
But his agent messed up.
Not only had the renewal talks failed, but Henry was also now on the verge of becoming Milwall's biggest scapegoat.
So, when his agent called him during his trip to the airport, Henry's curt response was, "Don't call me again." That marked the end of their partnership.
After all, an agent's role—the so-called "10% man"—was to ensure that the player could focus on football while the agent handled everything else. Boosting their client's income was their job, but botching the deal? That questioned their competence and naturally led to dismissal.
From the time Henry received Aldrich's call to when his flight landed in London, less than three hours had passed.
In those three hours, a lot had happened: Millwall had held a press conference, Andrew had met with Aldrich, and plans were swiftly put in motion.
The moment Henry turned on his phone after landing and hopped into a taxi, he received a call from David Trezeguet.
Trezeguet explained the situation and invited Henry to meet Andrew at a café in the city.
Checking the time, Henry realized it was still early, well before the team's usual training hours. Deciding to attend the meeting, he couldn't ignore the significance of an invitation from someone like Andrew.
Sitting in the taxi, Henry was lost in thought. He had heard of Andrew's reputation as an agent. Several of his teammates were Andrew's clients, but they had never discussed such matters directly.
From casual conversations, though, Henry had pieced together an impression of Andrew.
Efficiency was his hallmark.
When Miroslav Klose wanted to buy a new house, everything was sorted within a week, and Klose was beyond satisfied with the purchase. That kind of turnaround clearly showed Andrew's involvement.
Then there were cases like Wesley Sneijder and Pavel Nedvěd pooling resources to invest in a vineyard. They had taken a completely hands-off approach, with Andrew managing every aspect of the process. It was said that they would occasionally visit the French vineyard to sample their wines, a simple three-hour flight from England.
Most importantly, despite their packed commercial schedules, these players never missed a beat in their football careers. Their photoshoots for fashion magazines and group advertisements never interfered with their performance on the pitch.
Suddenly, a thought crossed Henry's mind:
Why didn't Andrew approach me to be my agent when I transferred to Millwall?
The truth was, Andrew had intentionally avoided doing so.
He had taken on players like Sneijder, Klose, and Nedvěd when they were without representation. But when Henry joined Millwall, he already had an agent.
Moreover, considering Henry played for Millwall, Andrew was wary of being accused of exploiting his relationship with Aldrich. It could easily be misconstrued as an authoritarian move—forcing new signings at Millwall to join Andrew's agency as a condition of their transfer. That kind of misunderstanding was the last thing he wanted.
Andrew's chosen meeting spot wasn't exactly inconspicuous, but at least it wasn't one of those celebrity haunts constantly staked out by paparazzi.
As soon as Henry stepped into the café, the waitress recognized him. However, this was London, where stars and public figures were a common sight. Most people were used to it, merely stealing a glance or two unless they happened to be die-hard fans.
This particular café was located in North London, a region under the influence of Tottenham Hotspur. The waitress, a casual football fan but not an enthusiast, showed no particular excitement upon seeing Henry. She neither asked for a photo nor requested an autograph.
Andrew was seated in a corner booth with a clear view of the entrance. When Henry walked in, Andrew rose with a smile and waved to him.
Henry ordered a juice casually before heading to Andrew's table.
Andrew gestured for him to sit, and once the waitress brought the drink, he formally introduced himself. This was their first proper meeting.
Henry's mood was heavy. He couldn't guess what this man—his boss's brother—wanted to discuss. Perhaps he was sent by Aldrich to deliver some message.
If that were the case, it would only add to Henry's sense of despair. The idea that he and Aldrich had reached a point where they couldn't communicate directly was something he couldn't have imagined two months ago.
"Thierry, I have a question for you. Do you still want to play for Millwall?"
Hearing the question, Henry looked up with a bitter expression. After a long pause, he asked, "Did Aldrich send you to ask me this? Why is my loyalty being questioned?"
Andrew shook his head. "No, you misunderstand. I'm not here on behalf of Millwall, nor on behalf of Aldrich. This is a personal conversation. I'm here to help you, to resolve your troubles and free you from this predicament. But for that to happen, I need to know your thoughts. Everything we discuss next depends on your answer to this question."
Henry remained silent for a moment before responding. "Of course, I want to stay with the team. If I were forced to leave, I'd be at a complete loss. I wouldn't know where to go. Anywhere I'd end up seems like a terrible decision. But..."
"But you feel that your desire to stay is stronger than the club's willingness to keep you. Millwall's lack of sincerity makes you feel like you haven't been treated fairly. Is that right?"
Andrew's words caused Henry to hesitate before he finally nodded.
In this era, money symbolized so much.
If Millwall were a small club with a top salary of £40,000 a week, Henry would gladly sign for £30,000 without hesitation.
But Millwall was making significant money. With revenues expected to rise sharply next season, the club's top salary had reached £100,000. Yet Henry earned less than half that. The stark disparity made it impossible for him to feel that he was being treated equitably.
Andrew pulled a piece of paper from his briefcase and calmly slid it across the table toward Henry.
"Take a look at this," he said.
Henry glanced down. The information on the paper was immediately clear.
Nedvěd: £70,000 weekly salary, £100,000 loyalty bonus, £50,000 seasonal bonus cap.
Following him were Larsson and Southgate.
Next was Pirlo: £50,000 weekly salary, £50,000 loyalty bonus, and a £50,000 seasonal bonus cap.
Then came Ronaldinho, who received no loyalty bonus as he had only completed three and a half seasons with the first team.
Schneider, Materazzi, and Zambrotta followed, earning £40,000 per week with £80,000 loyalty bonuses and £50,000 seasonal caps. Their loyalty bonuses were higher than Pirlo's because they joined the club a year earlier.
Further down were the substitutes. The highest earner among them was Gronkjaer with £20,000 weekly, followed by Lampard at £15,000. Gattuso, newly promoted to the starting lineup, was on £30,000.
At the bottom tier were Keller, Villa, Joe Cole, and Ferreira, each earning £10,000 per week.
At the very end of the list, Henry found his name:
Weekly salary: £50,000. Seasonal bonus cap: £50,000. No loyalty bonus.
Henry understood that £50,000 referred to his weekly wage. In total, the club would potentially spend £3 million annually on his salary and bonuses.
Shaking his head, Henry muttered, "I don't understand."
Indeed, he wasn't sure if this data was accurate. Was it Andrew's wishful thinking, or was it something else entirely?
Andrew, unfazed, explained calmly, "You should know that I'm the agent for most players on this list. I personally negotiated their renewal contracts with Millwall over the summer. This data is accurate, and you're free to verify it with your teammates.
The focus here is on you. Millwall prepared a contract for you with a £50,000 weekly salary and a seasonal bonus cap of £500,000 for five years. However, your agent rejected it, demanding £75,000 weekly and a bonus cap exceeding £1 million..."
Before Andrew could finish, Henry interrupted. "No! That's not true! I only asked for £40,000 weekly, but the club offered me £30,000! That's the truth!"
Andrew smirked and said, "The truth? Thierry, think carefully. You're talking about a £10,000 weekly difference—a £500,000 annual gap. Your contract has two years left, and Millwall rejected Juventus' £40 million offer for you. Does that make sense?"
Footballers rarely delve into contract specifics. Their agents handle those details while they focus on playing. Henry had never thought about these matters before, leaving him dumbfounded.
It was simple math.
Would Millwall risk losing £40 million over £1–2 million?
Andrew pressed on: "And when you get a look at the salary structure of Millwall's first team, you'll understand. My brother Aldrich, he's got an ambition like no other, and the kind of boldness that most people could never imagine.
Millwall's results are already on par with the big clubs. They have to start showing up like one too. But have you done the math on the first-team salaries? Over £60 million a year! That's the bare minimum. If Millwall takes home a couple of major trophies this season, their bonus payout will probably add another £10 million or so to that.
Four years ago, Manchester United, the highest-earning club worldwide, made just under £60 million in net income. By this time next year, football analysts will report that Millwall has the highest operational spending in world football! And that's with a private jet purchased for the club's global travel, and the renovations to The Den along with the entire new stadium's surrounding commercial developments.
Thierry, do you know what the club's annual budget is? £157.3 million! And you honestly think they'd have this much trouble over a £10,000 weekly wage, or a £500,000-a-year salary?"
Andrew's words left Henry utterly speechless and in shock.
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