章 79: Laconia
Millwall's squad had already set off on their journey back to London, including the coaching staff, players, medical team, and management. The only one left behind was the head coach.
Ferguson's office wasn't large, but it had a distinctly cozy atmosphere. In the center, there was a transparent coffee table surrounded by three walls lined with leather sofas. The walls above the sofas were adorned with photos and meaningful artwork.
Aldrich was a guest in this space, and while Ferguson poured himself a drink, Aldrich stood by the wall, admiring a particular photograph titled "The Ascent of Humanity."
This photograph was captured in 1932 during the construction of the Rockefeller Building in New York.
In the image, eleven construction workers were seen sitting atop steel beams high above the ground, with the bustling skyline of New York stretching hundreds of meters below them.
In a way, this mirrored the position of eleven players on a football field: a dangerous profession requiring courage, professionalism, and communication with teammates. If you could accomplish all this, you could look down from great heights and build a monumental establishment like the Rockefeller Center, embodying the American spirit. This image encapsulated the essence of the Red Devils.
"Aldrich, you nearly gave me a heart attack today," Ferguson remarked.
Aldrich turned to see Ferguson seated on the opposite end of the coffee table. Holding a glass of red wine, he indicated the drink he had poured for Aldrich waiting on the table.
Sitting across from Ferguson, Aldrich took a sip from his glass. He thought for a moment but felt there wasn't much to say about the taste.
"What's wrong? Don't you like it?" Ferguson said with a light smile. The big match was over, and now the two coaches, one old and one young, could sit down and share a laugh. This was one of the joys of life in the football world.
Aldrich shook his head and replied honestly, "To be honest, my father was a street tough in his youth, and my older brother was a glassworker when he turned eighteen. So, my family doesn't really have refined tastes when it comes to red wine. Sometimes we drink it to toast, but for me, it's pretty much the same as beer. I can't say I dislike it, but it doesn't bring me joy. If Millwall had won today, I would have taken you out for barbecue and beer—unlimited."
Ferguson burst out laughing upon hearing this. He raised his glass of wine and said, "This is Port wine from Portugal. It carries a sense of occasion here in the UK. I didn't know your preferences, so I thought this red wine, enjoyed by students, soldiers, and nobility alike, would suit you. It seems I was wrong. So tell me, what's the best red wine you've ever had?"
After a moment of contemplation, Aldrich replied, "The '82 Lafite. It's not exactly the best, though. I'm just a regular guy enjoying the scene. Drinking red wine is more about joining the fun."
In Europe, Lafite isn't considered the top-tier wine, but in Aldrich's previous life in China, it was a hot commodity, merely a product of nouveau riche trying to appear cultured. Thus, when he found himself with money, he bought a bottle of '82 Lafite that was affordable back in the 90s, but after drinking it, he felt it wasn't worth the hype.
Ferguson nodded in agreement. "Indeed, '82 is one of the best from recent decades. The grape harvest that year was exceptional."
"Is it all about the grapes?" Aldrich asked.
"Absolutely. Grapes are the main ingredient for wine. Good wine relies not only on production techniques but also on luck. If the weather is good, the grapes from '82 will be of the highest quality. But if luck isn't on your side, even the best grapes won't produce great wine. It's similar to football; classic matches are often the result of chance, not meticulously planned scenarios."
Aldrich nodded seriously. Ferguson took a sip and curiously asked, "Aldrich, can you share your secret to success? Despite not playing football, your understanding of tactics is impressive. The performance of Millwall's players today was top-notch, but it all comes down to their training. While games aren't merely about repeating training tactics, executing flowing football in an unpredictable match is closely tied to the coach's influence. Many Millwall players caught the eye of Manchester United scouts, showcasing star potential. How did you identify these players? Where do you gather all this information?"
Aldrich agreed with Ferguson's points.
Football is inherently unpredictable, unlike basketball or American football, where coaches meticulously plan every player's movement on a tactics board.
"I left London when I was not yet thirteen and traveled to various places around the world—well, mostly just in Europe: Spain, Italy, the Netherlands, France, Germany, Portugal, and even a few trips to Northern and Eastern Europe. Since then, I have been observing the different football cultures across the continent and putting them into my mind. To be frank, I am not a tactical enthusiast. I don't spend all my time studying how to get players to execute complex movements on a tactics board. Have you heard of Laconia thinking?"
Ferguson shook his head seriously. Despite being a refined wine connoisseur and a successful football coach, his knowledge was pretty much on par with the average person. This was likely one reason for his rivalry with Wenger, who always exuded a scholarly air, while Ferguson would sometimes reflect on his working-class Glaswegian background in comparison.
"The thinking approach of Laconia is to simplify the thought process. Simplicity is the true richness because specific details are limited. Only the simplest ideas can foster the broadest development and imaginative space. In training, I encourage players to pass simply and quickly, instilling a sense of movement and teamwork. As these concepts mature, they naturally bring that fluidity onto the pitch. Defending is no different; I teach them simple principles, and from there, it's up to them to showcase their skills."
Aldrich spoke openly.
"Why are you so candid? Don't you have any confidentiality concerns?" Ferguson pondered for a moment and then asked out of curiosity.
Aldrich chuckled, "Confidentiality? There are no secrets in football. Every tactical framework is simple, while the effectiveness of its execution depends on player abilities. Every Premier League team knows Manchester United is going to play with wing play, yet they still get exploited on the flanks. That's largely due to player abilities rather than how well the tactics counter an opponent or their mysterious nature. The strength of player-to-player matchups directly influences the flow of the game; even if you use numbers to compensate for flank defense, there will always be vulnerabilities elsewhere. For example, even if Manchester United returns to the primitive long-ball tactics, it doesn't mean their performance would plummet because your long passes are more precise, and you have the resources to buy top-notch strikers to convert those chances. The same tactics yield different results depending on the team that employs them. True tactical revolutions in football have happened fewer than ten times in the past century; with modern broadcasts, there are hardly any tactical secrets left—only the matching of players to tactics."
Ferguson sighed in agreement, "You're right; the key is whether the players' characteristics align with the tactics. Positioning the right players correctly brings out the best results, while mismatches spell disaster."
This principle guided Aldrich as he built his team. He needed a powerful striker, and Trezeguet was a perfect fit. While Solskjaer was outstanding, he couldn't replace the younger Trezeguet. He also needed a midfield maestro; players like Ballack, Nedved, and Vieira could all do the job, but none would surpass Pirlo. The English defenders required aerial dominance, making someone like Stam an ideal candidate.
However, the tactical counterrelationships were most visible in matches between top teams; in games where the strength disparities were wide, even the best tactics from weaker teams rarely caused upsets.
Ferguson stood up to refill Aldrich's glass, asking, "So, where do you discover these players?"
Aldrich chuckled, "Didn't I just say? I've been to so many countries and set a routine to watch one game each week. I have a notebook filled with names of players, not to mention my older brother runs an agency where he hires scouts all over the world."
Ferguson nodded in realization. After a moment of silence, he looked up seriously, "Seven million pounds for Larson, sold to Manchester United. Or five million for that young Frenchman, Trezeguet."
Aldrich's cheerful demeanor faded in an instant. The old fox was finally making a move!
He felt nervous; this wasn't the first time Ferguson had inquired about players. He'd abandoned it three months ago, yet after today's match, he had obviously made up his mind.
Since he had spoken up, money wouldn't be an issue.
Moreover, Trezeguet and Larson's exceptional performances today bolstered their worth, making high salaries at Manchester United seem justifiable.
The transfer fees were also reasonable; seven million pounds was a solid offer.
That was fifty thousand more than the fee for Andy Cole earlier this spring, yet fifty thousand less than Bergkamp's transfer to Arsenal. It marked the second-highest transfer record in English football, the latest being set by Bergkamp.
Trezeguet's five million pounds can also be deemed quite an offer.
Aldrich set down his glass and replied calmly, "I'll need to think it over."
"Whether the deal goes through or not, Aldrich, the next time you visit Manchester United, I'll open a bottle of '82 Lafite for you."
Ferguson stood and shook Aldrich's hand firmly. Aldrich mustered a smile and turned to leave.
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