บท 494: Unbroken Resolve
The Bernabéu faithful were holding their breath, praying for a miracle. Five minutes—just five minutes, including stoppage time—to salvage the game and their pride.
Taking full advantage of their numerical superiority, Real Madrid unleashed relentless pressure, pinning Millwall deep into their half. Even Helguera, the defensive stalwart, pushed forward to join the attack.
Before Aldrich sent Neil into the fray, he delivered clear, concise instructions:
"Stay sharp and assess the situation."
Neil's role would shift based on the circumstances—if Madrid controlled possession outside the box, he was to play as a defensive midfielder. If they pushed into the penalty area, he needed to fall back and act as a sweeper.
Neil executed Aldrich's tactical demands flawlessly. Under immense pressure, a defense needs adaptability. Players who've been grinding for nearly 90 minutes often rely on instinct and routine, sticking to their roles. But in moments like this, the team needs someone willing to think and act dynamically.
A gasp rippled through the stadium as Morientes unleashed a shot from inside the box—only for it to fly agonizingly wide. Millwall's players felt their hearts skip a beat as they dodged a bullet.
Standing at the edge of the six-yard box, Butt carefully placed the ball and took a moment to assess. The Madrid players were pressing high, their man-marking leaving him with no easy options.
With no clear target in sight, he dithers, seconds ticking by, before finally launching the ball deep into the Madrid half.
The crowd is on edge. The clock ticks into the dying moments of added time. Can Madrid find a miracle?
Aldrich stood on the sidelines, his expression grave. There were no guarantees they could hold Madrid off, especially with their relentless offensive surges into Millwall's box. A straight-on attack was manageable; chaos in the fast pace of the game was the real threat.
On the flank, Roberto Carlos whipped in a cross, but it was subpar—perhaps a result of his exhaustion and the mounting pressure. Materazzi positioned himself perfectly, rose high, and headed the ball clear with all his strength, determined to get it as far from the penalty area as possible.
A clearance from Millwall's box was met by Nedvěd, who rose high to redirect the ball with a deft header toward the midfield.
Henry was ready. He read the play, claimed the ball, and, with a sharp turn, took off like a sprinter out of the blocks.
It was a one-on-two situation, with Karanka and Campo desperately trying to hold the line.
Henry pressed on, his focus unwavering. With no teammates close enough for a pass and Madrid's forwards failing to track back, he had no choice but to go for it alone.
If Millwall could summon just one or two players to surge forward and support, this counter could become deadly.
But neither Nedvěd nor the tireless Klose moved. In an 11 vs. 11 situation, they might have surged ahead. However, seeing that none of Madrid's players were retreating, they dared not risk losing their defensive positions. One mistake leading to a counterattack could seal their fate, and there would be no time to recover.
Karanka and Campo played their roles perfectly in the two-on-one defense. The open spaces in Madrid's backfield looked inviting, but Henry had no support—he was on his own.
Karanka pressed close, disrupting Henry's rhythm, while Campo stayed deeper, ready to cover. Their positioning ensured that even if Karanka was beaten, Campo would be there to neutralize the danger.
Henry could only sigh inwardly. His stamina was almost gone, with just enough left for one more short burst. If his opponents had overcommitted or stood side by side, it might have opened a path for him to exploit.
But they didn't. Instead, Karanka slowed him down and forced him off course, veering away from the goal.
Henry took a deep breath and made his decision. With a final push, he used every bit of strength left in his legs and burst forward in a last-ditch attempt.
Karanka and Campo immediately understood what Henry was up to as he dribbled toward the corner flag.
With Henry now in the corner area, the two defenders decided to act decisively, closing him down together.
Henry noticed their approach and stopped the ball at the edge of the pitch. Turning to face them, he saw Karanka charging forward. Henry feigned a breakthrough, leaning forward and gently lifting the ball.
Karanka collided with it, sending it out of bounds.
Breaking through wasn't Henry's real goal. He'd only pretended to force Karanka into conceding a set piece and draining precious seconds from the clock.
In the last minute of injury time, Millwall earned a corner kick. What followed was bizarre—no one stepped up to take it immediately! Oh, it turned out to be Klose jogging from the center circle to the corner flag. Real Madrid's players, visibly frustrated, complained to the referee about time-wasting. The referee approached Klose and issued him a yellow card. Unperturbed, Klose argued with the official, drawing out more precious seconds.
When Klose finally lined up to take the corner with a yellow card hanging over him, only 15 seconds remained.
Henry walked out from the penalty box to the corner area, standing right in front of Klose. Behind him, Salgado rushed forward. Henry raised a hand, signaling Klose to hold off, and then gestured toward the referee to indicate Salgado's encroachment.
By the time Klose passed the ball to Henry, the injury time had already expired.
Henry turned with the ball at the edge of the pitch, shielding it near the byline. Salgado and Karanka converged to challenge him, but Henry deftly dragged the ball back, then abruptly stopped. Salgado's desperate attempt to steal the ball only nudged it out for another corner kick to Millwall.
Before the corner could be taken, the referee blew the final whistle.
A chorus of boos echoed throughout the Bernabéu. It was hard to tell whether they were directed at Millwall's time-wasting antics or Real Madrid's failure to secure a win at home in such a critical clash. Perhaps it was both.
"After 90 minutes of intense action, the first leg of the Champions League quarterfinals came to a close at the Santiago Bernabéu, with Real Madrid suffering a 3-4 defeat at home to Millwall.
This result is a remarkable one for Millwall. They've never lost a European match in London and, in fact, have only been defeated once in Europe over the past four years, a narrow 1-0 loss.
For Real Madrid, the task is daunting. Even if they win the second leg in London, they must score at least three goals to overturn the deficit, as Millwall hold the advantage in away goals. However, it's not impossible—Real Madrid recently overcame Manchester United with a 3-2 win on the road to progress. They will need to replicate that same resilience when they head to The Den."
On the pitch, Millwall players pumped their fists in celebration. The result had significantly boosted their chances of reaching the Champions League final.
In contrast, Real Madrid's players wore grim expressions. The scoreline was brutal, and the road ahead was steep. While hope remained, logic dictated their chances were slim.
As soon as the final whistle sounded, Aldrich strode over to shake hands with Vicente del Bosque before swiftly heading into the tunnel, ignoring the cameras and reporters tailing him.
It seemed everyone was eager to capture the young coach's triumphant demeanor at the Bernabéu—a stage set for audacious celebrations.
But for Aldrich, the game wasn't over.
In the grand scheme of 180 minutes, this was just the first half.
This wasn't a group-stage match; it was a Champions League semi-final. Overconfidence and complacency would only sow the seeds of downfall.
In the dressing room, Aldrich exchanged a few words with Makelele, who had calmed down by then. When the team returned, Makelele stood up and apologized to everyone.
No one took it to heart. The team had won, and that was all that mattered. Winning forgave all, especially personal errors.
At the post-match press conference, Aldrich faced a barrage of hostile questions from journalists from Marca and AS.
Spanish football media was divided into two camps—pro-Barça and pro-Madrid. Unlike the outright pro-Madrid AS, Marca tried to maintain some neutrality while leaning slightly toward Real Madrid. Given the circumstances, their bias against Millwall was expected.
"Millwall, considered Europe's most attacking team, played defensively at the Bernabéu. Is that Millwall's style?"
"Real Madrid scored three goals, one from a penalty. Millwall scored four—all from open play. The score is 3-4."
"But your goals came from counterattacks. You didn't dare take on Real Madrid directly."
"The score is 3-4."
"Is that really Millwall's style?"
"If victory—winning—can be called a style, then I proudly say: yes, victory is Millwall's style!"
"Mr. Hall, I was referring to your footballing philosophy..."
"And my answer, which you fail to grasp, is this: tactics that don't lead to victory are wrong and irrelevant. Any tactical system must aim to win. That is our style."
Aldrich left the Spanish journalists speechless. Rarely did he resort to silence to counter their provocations; instead, he wielded words like a blade, forcing his opponents into verbal corners. While Spanish media might lambast him in tomorrow's headlines, the rest of Europe would likely celebrate his sharp wit and mock the Spanish reporters. On the European stage, Aldrich wasn't just a coach—he was a superstar.
"Was Makelele's red card a fair decision by the referee?"
This question came from a journalist from AS. Unlike the more overtly antagonistic questions earlier, this one was subtle and insidious, wrapped in apparent neutrality.
Aldrich saw through it immediately.
The journalist was likely baiting him into criticizing the referee, hoping to provoke an investigation by UEFA. Such an outcome could result in a touchline ban for Aldrich.
"My opinion doesn't matter anymore," Aldrich began, his tone steady but sharp. "The spectators in the stadium, the millions watching this match on television, and the media present here will undoubtedly dissect this decision in the days to come. They'll analyze whether Makelele's handball warranted punishment, whether the foul occurred inside or outside the box, and whether it should've been a penalty. Experts in the footballing world will offer their perspectives. Millwall will appeal to UEFA to rescind Makelele's red card."
"He slammed the ball into the ground and almost hit the referee. Surely, that deserved a red card?"
"That's only part of the story," Aldrich countered, his gaze unwavering. "If tomorrow, when you report on this, you merely mention that Makelele angrily threw the ball and got sent off, that would be unprofessional and a dereliction of your journalistic duty. It would mislead your readers by distorting the facts. When an ordinary person faces injustice in life, their reaction is often scrutinized, while the root cause of the injustice is conveniently ignored. And that root cause is what truly matters."
"So, at the end of the day, you believe the referee made a serious mistake in his decision-making?"
"That's your interpretation, not mine."
When the verbal sparring with the Spanish journalists finally subsided, reporters from Fleet Street shifted the focus to the upcoming second leg.
Aldrich acknowledged Millwall's favorable result but emphasized the need to forget the scoreline and approach the next match with a calm and focused mindset.
"The key to reaching the final," he stated firmly, "lies in our mentality. At this moment, the only opponent standing in Millwall's way is ourselves."
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