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13.16% The Rise of Millwal / Chapter 69: Whose Theater of Dreams?

章 69: Whose Theater of Dreams?

August 18, 1995.

After noon, the west side of Manchester, once the world's factory, had turned into a bustling hub of traffic and crowds. If one were to look down from above, they would see the direction the throngs were heading: a modern stadium.

Dream Theater: Old Trafford!

A bus emblazoned with a blue lion slowly made its way towards Old Trafford. Unquestionably, it was the bus that brought Millwall to Manchester.

Since the beginning of the new season, Aldrich had signed a contract with the rental company, requiring that all away matches outside of London feature a bus marked with the Millwall crest—making a bold statement that Millwall had arrived!

Relentless promotion was essential for the club to increase its visibility, and the rental company was eager to provide this service. For matches in the Greater Manchester area, they were keen to partner with major clients like Millwall, allowing them to connect with fan groups and boost their brand.

After more than twenty days of summer training camp, Aldrich's team was all set for the new season. The players gradually shifted from a relaxed holiday mindset to a competitive spirit. Before the season began, Millwall had played five friendly matches against English teams—three of which were relegated from the Premier League last year, along with two teams that failed to promote from the EFL League One. All games were away matches, and the outcome was disheartening: four draws and one loss. Media predictions for Millwall's relegation battle were not optimistic due to their poor performance in these warm-ups.

If they couldn't adapt quickly to the challenges of the Premier League, they might find themselves left behind by their relegation rivals.

Aldrich had no strict expectations for the warm-ups. They were merely to help the players get into shape, not to fight for victory.

In each of the five matches, he rotated the entire team between halves, so their disappointing record was understandable.

As the bus approached the outskirts of Old Trafford, Aldrich, like everyone else in the bus, found himself gazing out the window at the grand modern stadium in the distance.

Outside the stadium, crowds thronged everywhere, with fans in red Manchester United jerseys taking photos, chatting, eating, and laughing. They were utterly unconcerned with who their opponent was, exuding a leisurely enjoyment that reflected deep pride in Manchester United, showing disdain for any challengers.

Players like Nedvěd and Southgate looked out at the magnificent stadium with yearning in their eyes.

Is this really Old Trafford?

A legendary home to generations of Red Devils, the Dream Theater!

Aldrich pulled his gaze away. It would be self-deceiving to say he felt no envy. Teams around the world envied Manchester United like no other, and he didn't need to pretend that Millwall's den was better than their gilded nest.

It's alright; everything will come in time.

This was precisely the drive for both the team and himself.

Welcomed by officials from Manchester United, the entire Millwall squad disembarked and headed to the changing rooms.

With some time left before the match, the players would first change into their jerseys for pre-game warm-ups. Aldrich took the opportunity to browse around the club facilities.

When warm-up time ended, the team returned to the changing room. Before the door was even shut, they could hear the passionate roar of fans outside Old Trafford. The sound of the club anthem paled in comparison to the cheers of the supporters.

As silence fell, Aldrich stood in front of the empty tactics board. He never used the board for pre-match tactics; he would only address it if adjustments were needed at halftime.

The starting eleven had changed into their kits, while the substitutes sat quietly in jackets, waiting for Aldrich's final instructions before kickoff.

"Where are we?"

Aldrich asked, slightly raising his chin in contemplation.

The players exchanged glances, and Larson shrugged, "Old Trafford."

"That's right. We are at Old Trafford, and today we will challenge the most watched team in all of England: Manchester United. Perhaps they don't have the trophies of Liverpool, but in England, Manchester United is like a pampered child, receiving the most attention from royalty to fans alike. When you step out onto that pitch, observe the expressions on the faces of the Manchester United players—they're proud, confident, radiating a sense of invincibility, especially here at Old Trafford. I, Aldrich Hall, am coaching my first Premier League match today, and it is also your first Premier League match. So tell me, shout it out loud: when we step onto Old Trafford, into the Dream Theater, with Manchester United as our opponents, are we just here as tourists? Are we mere background players? Will Manchester United regard us as insignificant by tomorrow?"

Aldrich's face bore a grim intensity, his tone grave yet not hysterical, conveying a deep, simmering anger.

"No!" 

The entire team shouted in unison.

Aldrich nodded and said solemnly, "Remember, our opponent is Manchester United. Remember, this is our Dream Theater. Remember, today will be the moment we make our mark on the world! Tell the arrogant Manchester United: Old Trafford, we love it here! Because we will take victory from this place! This is your day, this is my day, a big day in our lives! Let's go out there, crush them, and show no mercy—stomp Manchester United underfoot! Millwall Lions, run!"

With a grand gesture, Aldrich led his spirited team out of the changing room like a pack of ready-to-fight warriors.

Once the team had left, the coaching staff exchanged knowing smiles. They were used to Aldrich's passionate rallying cries, and each experience left them feeling inspired—if they could play, they would give everything for victory!

Old Trafford had undergone several renovations in its nearly hundred-year history, and during Ferguson's era, he left a deep mark on the transformations of this special stadium.

The most significant change was the construction of the players' tunnel at the corner flag, enhancing the home advantage to the fullest. Whether entering or exiting, during halftime, both teams, players, and referees would pass through here. Even the opposing coach had to walk several meters along the sidelines before reaching the tunnel, allowing the Manchester United fans to collectively apply pressure on the players, coaches, and even the referees!

The substitutes and first-team coaches had already stepped outside. Aldrich was the last to exit. The starting players lined up and waited, examining Manchester United's starting lineup. Just like Aldrich described, the Manchester United players stood tall, exuding an aura of confidence and superiority, distinctly different from other opponents.

It was a demeanor forged through years of service at Manchester United—a red devil's spirit cultivated over time, not innate but enough to carry through a lifetime.

Ferguson seemed to take some time in the tunnel, and as the two head coaches met, they made their way around the players before meeting outside the tunnel.

With a smile, Ferguson approached Aldrich and walked alongside him to the technical area.

"Looks like the Millwall lads are quite spirited today."

"Well, they are a relegation team. If they lose their spirit along with their skill, they'll be back in the EFL League One next year," Aldrich replied with a grin.

The fans cheered for Ferguson from the sidelines, but he turned to Aldrich and said, "I think Millwall can finish in the top ten this season; relegation won't be an issue."

"Let's hope so," Aldrich chuckled. 

"How about a drink after the match?"

"Only if Manchester United goes easy on us. Otherwise, I'll be in rough shape; my drinking etiquette is quite poor."

"Ha ha, Aldrich, has anyone ever called you a little fox?"

Aldrich raised an eyebrow with a smile but said nothing further.

Ferguson patted his shoulder, then raised his hands to applaud as he made his way to the home team's bench.

The technical area at Old Trafford was unique; it wasn't set along the sidelines but integrated into the stands.

Aldrich didn't walk over to the away bench; he stood at the sidelines, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyeing the field, waiting for the match to begin.

The southwest and north stands were engulfed in a sea of red, while the away supporters were situated in the east stand—purposefully set up in opposition to the loyal Manchester United fans for safety, keeping their die-hard supporters separated.

The Lion Roar fan group had made the trip to Old Trafford, and over a thousand away supporters adorned in Millwall's deep blue jerseys filled the east stand, creating an intricate yet significant image: a fierce blue lion, the symbol of Millwall!

Near the field on the east stand, two stunning young women sat watching. Melanie held a pair of binoculars, peering toward Aldrich, who stood casually, hands in his pockets. She pouted, "Hmph, trying to look cool!"

Victoria, a bit bored, scanned the surroundings with disinterest, resorting to chatting with Melanie about her relationship with Aldrich.


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