Capítulo 89: One Hundred Million Debt
Millwall's first Premier League London derby concluded with a resounding three-goal victory over the traditional powerhouse Arsenal, as David Dein and Wenger watched the entire match from the luxury box.
David Dein was struggling to suppress the anger boiling inside him, putting on a facade of calmness while he was actually close to exploding.
Each time Millwall scored, Arthur would be ecstatic. After Larsson netted the third goal, this old rogue even opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for David Dein, treating him not as a rival Arsenal supporter, but more like a Millwall fan.
David Dein forced a smile to politely refuse Arthur's goodwill, while Wenger, being on a business trip, naturally refrained from any drinking.
If the television cameras caught Dein and Arthur raising their glasses together in the suite, this Arsenal vice-chairman would likely have to resign voluntarily when he got back to Highbury.
Dein had made up his mind to invite Wenger again when the J-League season ended at the end of the year. After all, Wenger couldn't leave Japan due to contractual obligations, and out of courtesy, he couldn't just walk away from Nagoya Grampus after coaching for less than a year.
What surprised Dein was that Arsenal's dismal defeat at the Den seemed to awaken them. Since that match, Rioch's Arsenal had been performing increasingly better, truly demonstrating a determination to improve. This left Dein unable to convince the board to dismiss Rioch during the winter and to seek out Wenger instead.
After the match, the Millwall players, as per tradition, thanked the home fans. Aldrich walked back to the players' tunnel and gave an interview in the mixed zone. He humbly stated that winning this derby would boost the confidence of the boys, without commenting on Arsenal's performance.
In the past, he always praised his opponents, showing great sportsmanship regardless of whether Millwall won or lost. However, if he were to praise Arsenal now, it would only label him as a hypocrite.
Fans across England knew that Arsenal was now on the downturn with no signs of revival.
Moreover, the media should be focused on Bruce Rioch.
Losing to a promoted team with a three-goal margin, and—most importantly—seeing Arsenal's performance was disheartening, as it provided no hope for a revival.
None of this was Aldrich's concern, though; that evening, he took the Spice Girls to dine at the Ritz Hotel, a prestigious establishment with nearly a hundred years of history in London.
Everyone at the table was having a lively conversation, especially Hallie, who was quite curious about Aldrich. She relentlessly bombarded him with questions, eager to get answers.
Having finished his meal, Aldrich wiped his mouth with a napkin and shrugged, "No, you've got it all wrong, completely wrong. At least in the Premier League, coaches don't earn as much as players. There might be one or two exceptions, like Ferguson, but I doubt his salary exceeds Cantona's. As a head coach, I can save the club some expenses, that's true, but Millwall is actually operating at a loss. I'm carrying a debt of thirty-five million pounds, and every day contractors are pressuring us because we still have a new stadium contract to fulfill, and I expect the investment in the new stadium to exceed sixty million pounds. So, don't be fooled by Millwall's current glory; in reality, I'm buried under over a hundred million pounds of debt."
The five Spice Girls were taken aback.
They couldn't imagine what a hundred million pounds actually meant.
Geri hesitated and asked, "I heard the Hall family has assets exceeding three hundred million pounds. Even if you are facing a debt collection, it shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Aldrich's handsome face broke into a smile as he shook his head, saying, "Let's assume the rumors are true, but the Hall family wouldn't have £300 million in liquid cash. By the time my debt issues reach a critical breaking point, if the Hall family were to step in to pay my debts, my assets would take a significant hit. Business competitors would know we are eager to sell, and an asset valued at £10 million could be forced down to £8 million when sold. But all of this won't come to pass, because I am who I am, and my brother is my brother; we are independent of one another."
"What are you going to do then? I mean, since the club is your only asset, how do you plan to earn a hundred million pounds? Are you planning to go public? Other clubs are doing this and seem to be making a lot of money."
The 90s saw a frenzy of clubs going public, but by the early 2000s, the football bubble began to burst.
Aldrich shook his head again, saying, "No, the football bubble is too large. In reality, all publicly traded football clubs are worthless stocks—it's just a deceptive way to funnel fans' hard-earned money into the pockets of club shareholders. This system is even worse than the member-based model employed by Spanish clubs, where members willingly pay dues to support the club purely for the love of football. Once a club goes public, the motives become far less straightforward. Millwall will make money; we've already started to turn a profit this season, having signed several sponsorship deals, which is a great start."
The Spice Girls exchanged glances, initially thinking Aldrich was a wealthy young handsome guy, but they realized he was burdened with debt.
Melanie took Aldrich's hand and quietly said, "When I make money, I can invest in Millwall."
Aldrich laughed heartily, "But I won't accept it; Millwall is mine alone."
"You know what I mean."
"I understand, and that's why I refuse."
"Oh come on, don't be all mushy, Aldrich. There are plenty of girls who like you. In fact, just now at the stadium, I saw many girls holding signs professing their love for you. What do you think about that?"
Geri asked with a mischievous smile.
Aldrich tilted his head and pondered for a few seconds before saying, "That's a serious topic. I want to be an excellent head coach, so my private life shouldn't be the focus, especially not having negative press. It could have very detrimental effects."
Geri beamed and continued with mischief, "In this week's Sun newspaper, there's a model who professed her love for you. She said she admires you, and it would be a blessing to be friends with you. Oh, her name is Katie Price, stage name Jordan."
Aldrich raised an eyebrow slightly. The name Jordan echoed loudly, not only as the basketball legend in America, but in the future, there would also be a Jordan who became famous in English football—Unfortunately, that pair was fake.
"Happiness? Certainly, if she becomes my friend, she will be happy because I can bring her exposure and fame, which will help her career leap forward rapidly, maintaining a high profile with revealing outfits. Many men would be eager to see the flirtatious side of women connected to Aldrich, and hostile fans would unbuckle their belts, fantasizing about a night with an Aldrich-labeled woman, splattering their fluids on the nude images of page three girls in The Sun. But for me, this is a disaster; my private life needs to be low-key, and I would only serve as a stepping stone for these women's careers. When I can't meet their needs for public exposure, or when I silence their tabloid gossip, they will leave me to seek the next man who can help them shine in their careers. You have to admit that football is the most watched sport in the UK and a fixed source of entertainment for fans, so star players become targets for page three girls. As a head coach, what would it be like if one day my players or the opposing team's players end up dating women I previously dated? It would be a disaster! I won't stoop to the vulgar level that saturates tabloid covers; it's shameful."
Aldrich's words were quite blunt, but he spoke the truth. With over forty years of experience, he took every decision seriously.
He wouldn't be attracted to women who gained attention by revealing their bodies; occasional glances were fine, but dating was out of the question! Because that could lead to negative impacts on his reputation, family name, and career.
Emma seemed to find it hard to accept Aldrich's words. She said stiffly, "Aldrich, this is your bias."
"Oh, Emma, stop being so naive and mature a little. You're almost thirty. This is a world where men are thieves and women are prostitutes. There are ruthless men, and there are shameless women. Just because you don't see taking off your clothes to shoot nude photos as a career doesn't mean others won't. Aldrich is right; if he weren't the club's head coach, if he weren't the owner, and if his last name weren't Hall, do you really think Jordan would openly profess his love?"
Geri, the oldest among the Spice Girls, was clearly more open-minded and casually commented.
Melanie watched with a smile as her sisters chatted with Aldrich, enjoying his sharp and cutting remarks as he didn't get flustered like a typical young boy.
As they were getting ready to leave, a stranger approached Aldrich. He was elegantly dressed, polite, wearing a wonderful smile. Even though he looked over fifty with a head full of white hair, he still appeared vibrant and youthful.
"Excuse me for interrupting. Are you Mr. Hall?"
Aldrich noticed the three Spice Girls sitting across from him widening their eyes in disbelief as they looked at the newcomer next to him.
Curious, Aldrich turned to observe the person and briefed him—you could tell he did not recognize him.
"Yes, I am Mr. Hall, but I'm Aldrich Hall, just not sure if you've mistaken me for someone else."
Aldrich thought the person was likely looking for his oldest brother Barnett Hall or his second brother Andrew Hall.
The man smiled and extended his hand to introduce himself: "George Armani. It seems I didn't mistake the person; may I take a seat? I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner with these lovely ladies."
Aldrich was stunned for a second; he still didn't recognize the person, but based on the Spice Girls' expressions and the name, he guessed the man's identity.
The renowned Armani, the famous designer who defined the fashion industry during the '80s as the "Armani Era."
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