Chapitre 464: Ferguson's Gambit
As October approached, Millwall had secured eight straight wins, then nine. The British media began clamoring, wondering who could possibly stop this relentless team.
Football experts warned that October was likely to bring Millwall's toughest test yet. Not only would they face a relentless run of Premier League giants, but they would also go toe-to-toe with AC Milan, the reigning champions of Serie A, in consecutive European fixtures.
But Arsenal, Chelsea, Leeds, and even AC Milan all fell to Millwall's unstoppable attack. By the time they reached the 17th round of the Premier League, fans and pundits alike had turned their eyes to Manchester United, hoping they might be the ones to break Millwall's winning streak.
Yet now, public sentiment had shifted from hopeful anticipation to resigned admiration. Millwall had won over even the harshest critics, with nearly everyone finally acknowledging their dominance.
"Manchester United? Haha. It's their turn now," was the sentiment echoed. The firepower of Millwall, unmatched and unyielding, was now set to be aimed at United.
The public heaped praise on Millwall, showering them with admiration. "What's Manchester United to us?" fans scoffed.
This was a historic moment for all to witness—a moment that could set a record in Europe's top five leagues, one that might remain unbroken for decades. Achieving consecutive wins in a modern era of football, where competition in every major league has intensified, was like scaling an impossible peak. And for Millwall, the opponent now was not just United, but the very limits of football history.
As of the 16th round, Manchester United held a record of 11 wins, 3 draws, and 2 losses, ranking second in the league with 36 points. Millwall, however, stood unbeaten with 16 victories and a solid 48 points, a 12-point gap ahead of their nearest competitor.
This vast gap seemed to bring a strange calm to the Manchester United camp. Even Sir Alex Ferguson himself approached this crucial match with an eerie tranquility. No pre-match trash talk, no change in their stance—it was as if this was just another regular game. At the pre-match press conference, Ferguson's expressionless responses were filled with diplomatic clichés.
Aldrich, too, kept his calm as he prepared his team. Millwall had no need for taunts or mind games. He knew that underestimating their opponent could lead to a careless slip-up, while appearing overly humble could dampen his team's confidence. The team Aldrich had built was strong enough not to bother with anyone else's opinion. Their calm approach to the match spoke volumes.
On the weekend, Red Devils fans traveled from afar to fill The Den. Millwall's fans paid them little mind, proudly holding their heads high as they filled the stadium in orderly anticipation of the game.
The day was gloomy and overcast, thick clouds hanging overhead but refusing to release a single drop of rain, adding a sense of heaviness to the atmosphere.
When Aldrich entered the field, he didn't approach Ferguson. Instead, he went straight to his place, wearing a blank expression, much like his opponent.
"The 17th round of the Premier League has arrived, with defending champions Millwall hosting Manchester United in this highly anticipated clash," began commentator Martin Tyler. "This is a top-of-the-table match, but with a 12-point lead over second-place United, Millwall could put an early end to any remaining suspense in the title race with a win today. If they claim victory, United would be left with almost no chance of catching up. So, as someone who's commentated on many Millwall matches in recent years, I can only hope that United will make the title race a bit more interesting. A United win could bring the points gap back to single digits, and with 21 rounds remaining, we'd still have a thrilling title chase to witness."
"Martin, why even bother?" responded his co-commentator. "I enjoy Millwall as much as you do, and I'd rather not see the title decided before Christmas, but this match could very well be historic. If Millwall wins, they'll extend their winning streak to 21 games across seasons. If United draws or wins, they'll not only end Millwall's streak but also cut down their momentum and keep the points gap from growing. So let's just sit back and enjoy. Let's hope neither team plays too defensively."
Standing on the sidelines, Aldrich watched United's players enter the field, his expression unwavering.
曼联的首发门将不是他们最近签下的博斯尼奇,他的技术和态度都让球迷失望.老将范德高虽然不是特别出色,但却是稳定的替补——不是长期的首发解决方案.
At the back, Denis Irwin was replaced by Champions League-winning veteran Ronny Johnsen, who returned from injury, while Silvestre took the left-back position. The attacking line remained unchanged.
Millwall took the field with only Makelele out due to injury, replaced by Gattuso, while the rest of their main lineup started.
Aldrich thought to himself, Manchester United still hasn't solved their defensive issues.
He felt confident about the match. Facing Manchester United was a great motivator for his players—a game against a mid-level team could actually lower morale. In their last match against Newcastle United, he'd deliberately held back the team's energy, yet their fighting spirit waned, especially after gaining a two-goal lead. Without his tactical adjustment, they might have relaxed too much, potentially giving Newcastle a chance to turn things around.
As the referee's whistle signaled the kickoff, the stadium roared with cheers. Millwall fans seemed like they were on something; their beloved team was making history and drawing attention from all over Europe—who wouldn't be excited?
United started with a slow build-up, passing sideways to get comfortable. But as Millwall's players pressed forward, Aldrich noticed something unusual. Just as he began piecing it together, United's pace suddenly skyrocketed!
Neville's straight pass found Beckham in the forward line. Beckham controlled the ball, not rushing his move. Ronaldinho was closing in from behind and would reach him in seconds, while Zambrotta blocked him in front. Without hesitation, Beckham made a short pass.
Scholes received it and swiftly laid it off to Yorke. Before Gattuso could close in, Yorke struck a clever, angled pass in a three-man combination play.
Southgate marked Cole, and a recovered Materazzi teamed up with Schneider to block Giggs's inside run. But right between the two defenders, one figure burst forward, picking up Yorke's pass and slicing through Millwall's defense!
A one-on-one!
He chose to shoot, unleashing a powerful drive from close range. Butt had no chance—just stood and watched the ball rocket into the net.
"Just 30 seconds in, and United has struck! Roy Keane, the captain, charging forward out of nowhere to score! Andy, you were spot on; this is a landmark game for Millwall—it's the fastest goal they've ever conceded in Premier League history!"
After scoring, Keane rushed to the away fans, pounding his chest and pointing at United's crest with a fierce look.
"Lions, don't you dare dream! Setting a record on us—do you even know who the Red Devils are?!"
Millwall's players were stunned by the goal. The most regretful was Nedved, who had hesitated on his last chance to track back. In that opening play, as Keane surged forward, Nedved had shadowed him closely. He'd grown accustomed to marking Keane's movements in recent seasons. When Keane momentarily stopped, seemingly expecting a pass from Scholes, Nedved also steadied himself to break up the pass. But instead of passing to the well-positioned Keane, Scholes daringly found Yorke. Keane's delayed burst caught Nedved off-guard—at such a short range, a second's hesitation meant a gap of five or six meters!
Yet, Millwall's players quickly regained their focus. Southgate led the team in rallying each other, pushing them to forget the early goal. They'd nearly forgotten what conceding felt like this season—this was no big deal.
Aldrich turned to glance at Ferguson. While the United manager celebrated the goal, he looked visibly tense, more excited than he usually did.
Millwall's relentless rise had given the Scottish manager flashbacks to his early days at United, when he faced the constant pressure of winning. Ferguson couldn't relax now; he had to keep working tirelessly, pushing Manchester United to become stronger. For a match like this, his preparations were likely even more intense than for a Champions League final.
Back in '96, when Ferguson claimed his third Premier League trophy in four seasons, he had thought that once he won a Champions League title and crowned his team as Europe's best, it'd be time to step aside and embrace retirement. But after lifting that cup in '99, any thoughts of retirement faded away.
Retirement?
Not a chance. Ferguson wouldn't dream of calling it quits without first stamping Millwall and Aldrich firmly into the ground. To retire without doing that would feel like surrender.
After applauding Keane's goal, Ferguson adjusted his glasses, casting a casual glance at Aldrich, who was already looking back at him. Ferguson flashed a smirk—a taunt that conveyed, Aldrich, our war is only just beginning! You've pulled me back into the game, right when I was contemplating retirement.
That "kid," someone he had pegged as rebellious and bound to be shut out by mainstream football, had grown year after year into a formidable, nearly unrivaled presence.
Aldrich noticed Ferguson's grin and returned it with a simple smile.
He turned his gaze back to the pitch.
Today's United was not the same as last season's, nor even the team Millwall had faced in the Charity Shield. At least tactically, they had brought something unexpected.
The adjustment that had Aldrich frowning at the start was precisely rooted in Keane's role—or more accurately, in United's defensive midfield and backline system.
Ferguson clearly knew that conventional play had been thoroughly analyzed by Aldrich. The usual routine—Giggs breaking down the flanks, Beckham crossing, Scholes surging forward—was too well-known throughout the Premier League to be a surprise, let alone enough to unsettle a Millwall team riding an incredible winning streak.
So today, United's attack pattern had a hidden dimension. While their front line remained the same, Keane had become the key factor for breaking through Millwall's defenses.
As a defensive midfielder, Keane had made a rare foray all the way into the box to score, expanding his range far beyond his usual area.
But then, who would defend?
This was what had surprised Aldrich: Johnson, the Norwegian center-back, was known as one of Europe's top defenders over the past two years. If not for injuries, he and Stam would've been able to keep United's defense secure for the next five years. Today, returning from injury, Johnson had instinctively moved up to cover Keane's defensive duties, sliding into the holding midfield role when Keane pushed forward. In case of a counterattack, he'd be the first barrier before the defensive line, effectively shifting United's formation to a back three.
The process leading to that first goal had, at least, allowed Aldrich to grasp the tactical setup Ferguson had devised for the day.
Ferguson had been the picture of calm before the game, but in truth, he was throwing everything into this match, risking it all!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone