章 150: The Cost of Ambition
After the game, the players in the locker room didn't bother to shower or change; even the injured Pires and Trezeguet sat in front of their lockers, their heads downcast, the atmosphere so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Everyone knew they had let the match slip away, and in doing so, they had bid farewell to their hopes of winning the league championship.
Trailing Newcastle United by five points, with only two rounds left, even if they managed to beat Newcastle in their next match, it hardly seemed significant; it would only extend the inevitable to the final round.
The players felt utterly dejected. When Aldrich entered the locker room, there was no reaction from anyone.
His expression mirrored theirs, heavy with pain. He walked a circle in the locker room and then stopped in the center, his voice grave as he said, "I'm sorry. I've let you down. My ambition for the league title clouded my judgment. I should have let you rest more to maintain your form and helped you face the matches with more rationality. This is all my fault; my series of victories has made me arrogant, and no opponent can be taken lightly. I should have realized that. Your performance this season deserves the league title, but I haven't been able to bring the trophy to you."
Aldrich's words were laden with remorse, his self-blame apparent.
As he finished speaking, all the players lifted their heads to look at him, expressions of shock on their faces.
It wasn't until they fell from the title race that they truly awakened.
They stared at Aldrich, their eyes shimmering with complex emotions: guilt, regret, sadness...
Thoughts naturally drifted to the rotation strategy Aldrich had implemented since the start of the season, which had ceased by the end of March.
Was it the coach's failure to rotate the squad, or was it the players' reluctance to be rotated?
Deep down, they knew the answer better than anyone else.
As Newcastle began to falter in the second half of the season, and as the points gap narrowed, a spark of ambition for the championship ignited within them.
They wanted the title, so they naturally wanted to field their strongest lineup for every match. Several players even approached Aldrich in the past month, insisting on continuing to play without breaks.
Aldrich agreed to their requests.
But they had overestimated their own bodies; trying to manage cup matches while fully committing to the league took its toll. By the eighth match of an intense April schedule, fatigue finally showed its face.
In this game, they painfully realized their desire to fight but found themselves lacking the strength to do so. Sprinting felt arduous; by halftime, many players were already gasping for breath.
At that moment, countless memories flooded their minds. Aldrich occasionally looked worried on the training ground, while his voice echoed in their ears, emphasizing during each pre-match briefing the need for calm and composure...
Who let whom down?
The usually perceptive coach had taken all the responsibility on himself.
He resembled a father who indulges his misbehaving child; instead of scolding him harshly when the child wants freedom, the father shows patience and allows the child to run wild, only to bandage the child's wounds when they inevitably fall and get hurt.
Aldrich could choose to scream at them in frustration, but that would only incite rebellion, creating an irreparable rift between them.
Tears shimmered in Schneider's eyes as he stood up and approached Aldrich, softly saying, "Boss, I'm sorry."
It was their failings that had cost them the championship, not Aldrich's arrogance.
Was he arrogant?
Perhaps, but he had never shown it; his seriousness towards every match had never wavered based on the strength of the opponents.
Aldrich smiled and said, "Bernd, you don't need to apologize..."
"Boss, I'm sorry."
"Sorry."
...
The players rose on their own accord to surround Aldrich, their heads bowed in acknowledgment of their mistakes. Even if some were not well-educated, they understood the fundamental emotions of human relationships.
If Aldrich had been yelling at them to win back the championship title, in the face of what was now a seemingly vanished hope, they would indeed hold resentment.
After all, someone had to take responsibility.
But that wasn't Aldrich's style; he preferred to lift spirits after establishing the tone of a match rather than relying on hope alone to vanquish their foes.
However, in the past month, the entire team seemed to have gone "mad," making Aldrich's "clarity" feel fragile and powerless.
It was like last year when Aldrich could yell at Beckham, not simply because Beckham was an "outsider," but because the other teammates were following the coach's tactical arrangements, while Beckham had shown defiance, inciting Aldrich's anger along with the team's collective wrath.
But recently, it was the players who collectively "rebelled," and no matter whom Aldrich scolded, they wouldn't comply; winning was reason enough to rebut any criticism.
Today, if they had followed Aldrich's pre-match instructions from the start, there's no telling how things would have turned out, instead of relying on a penalty to equalize at the last moment.
Only after falling from the clouds to the abyss did the players earnestly reflect on themselves, feeling a deep warmth and gratitude for Aldrich's leniency.
Aldrich smiled as he patted each player on the shoulder, saying, "Don't blame yourselves. It's not your fault. This is my first time experiencing such a situation; I lack some experience, but I will learn from this lesson, and it will only make us stronger in the future, right? What you need to do now is forget about this match. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, don't read the newspapers. Spend time with your families, go shopping, watch a movie with your girlfriends, or enjoy a nice meal. I can recommend some good restaurants for you. Alright, I have interviews to attend to, so lift your heads. Remember, you are resilient warriors, and you will not be defeated. Keep your heads up; everything will be fine!"
With that, Aldrich turned and walked out of the locker room.
The players perked up, showering, grabbing snacks, chatting with teammates; Schneider put on a soothing pop song, and soon the locker room buzzed with life once again.
They didn't need to dwell on the match, but they all understood one truth after the halt of their crazy winning streak this past month: obeying the head coach was of the utmost importance.
Meanwhile, Aldrich was in the mixed zone, where BBC reporters began their barrage of questions.
"After unexpectedly dropping two points at home today, has Millwall's league campaign come to an end? I mean, you're certainly going to earn a ticket to European competition, but in the last two matches, even if you defeat Newcastle, you'll still trail them by two points."
Aldrich spoke calmly, "If the result of this match is viewed as an accident, then that would be disrespectful to Leeds United. They are fighting for survival at this stage, but their strength is undeniable; they were league champions just four years ago, although their performance has not been ideal this season. Millwall has won six out of their last seven matches, and I believe the team has been performing well. The league is not over, regardless of whether we can win the championship; today is not the end. Otherwise, should mid-table teams be able to take a vacation?"
"How do you rate Millwall's performance today?"
"The players were very fatigued, yet they persevered, especially in securing the equalizer in adversity. That's a rare quality on the pitch, reflecting their fighting spirit."
"Why didn't you give the players some time to rest?"
Aldrich paused for a moment before saying, "When you have the chance to win the league, you naturally want to field all your strongest players. I made a mistake; I should have let the players rest. I think this is the lesson I need to summarize. Regardless, there are two more rounds in the league, and we also have an FA Cup final coming up; we won't make the same mistake again."
...
Openly admitting one's mistakes can be risky for a head coach, as it might invite criticism from outsiders and doubts within the team.
But Aldrich took all the responsibility upon himself, not to gain sympathy from the players, but to protect them from being blamed. If Aldrich remained silent at this moment or shifted the blame onto the players, revealing the truth—that it was the players themselves who insisted on continuing to play—then it would undoubtedly lead to disastrous consequences.
The players would become the target of public scorn, and it would expose his potential loss of control over the team. A crisis both internally and externally could lead to the team's collapse.
In the evening, Aldrich returned home, took off his suit and loosened his tie, and sat alone on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Benitez went to watch the Arsenal match today and is likely to return very late.
Aldrich had no idea how long Benitez planned to stay; he also didn't have the time to consider why Benitez wasn't in Spain scouting the next second division team he would be managing next season.
Just as he was lost in thought, the doorbell rang.
Aldrich tiredly got up to open the door, finding his visitor was Nagy, who was carrying two dozen beers in each hand.
Once they were seated in the living room, Nagy promptly opened a beer and handed it to Aldrich.
"It's been tough lately, hasn't it? Are you feeling frustrated? Having to force a smile on the outside while defending players who have clearly made mistakes, watching the championship hopes slip away... Aldrich, you're the one suffering the most, yet you still have to soothe the players."
Aldrich took a sip of beer and lit a cigarette, giving a bittersweet smile.
"Sounds a bit melodramatic, doesn't it? The world never goes as we wish."
The events of a season were intricate and couldn't be summed up simply.
Aldrich wanted the championship, but he needed a balance. If he achieved nothing this season, he wouldn't be able to keep the players; to push for cup success, sacrifices in the league were necessary. But it was also to ensure that younger players could grow quickly; otherwise, even if he won the league with the main squad, what about next season? They would still face a lack of depth. If there were severe injuries to key players, the results would plummet.
A head coach cannot afford to have a short-sighted view, focusing solely on one season. However, by the end of March, when Aldrich realized that Millwall had a chance to win the league title, he naturally began his planning. Squad rotation became essential due to the dense schedule, and maintaining player mental stability was also crucial for optimal performance. Nevertheless, when the latter became the primary concern, Aldrich found that his plans were fundamentally impossible to implement.
The fact that they could make it to the penultimate round before their championship hopes collapsed was already a stroke of luck.
Millwall's sprint had reached its limit at Stamford Bridge.
Aldrich's concession stemmed from his understanding that his plan might not yield the league title as confidently as he hoped. To prevent himself from appearing disconnected from the players, he had to choose compromise.
Aldrich clinked his beer bottle against Nagy's and smiled, saying, "Let's not talk about football today; let's just drink."
They consumed bottle after bottle, not in a way that suggested drowning his sorrows, but rather sharing humorous anecdotes from the past, laughing at their previously naive actions, discussing curious events around them, reminiscing about the past, and reflecting on the illness of their mentor, Puskás... at times joyful, at times somber...
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