บท 513: Henry’s Future: A Brewing Storm
July 2, 2000
In the Netherlands, France defeated Italy in extra time with Trezeguet's golden goal, claiming the European Championship. This victory followed their 1998 World Cup triumph, solidifying the legacy of Les Bleus.
The French were ecstatic, while the Italians were devastated.
They had been so close to victory. If not for Wiltord's equalizer at the last moment of regular time, there wouldn't have been an extra period, and Italy would already have been celebrating their championship.
For Italy, this European Championship ended in heartbreak. The pain was inevitable.
For several players on the Italian squad, the defeat was particularly bittersweet.
Torment, anguish, and confusion weighed heavily on them.
Pirlo, Gattuso, Materazzi, and Zambrotta were all part of Italy's roster. Of these four, only Zambrotta was a regular starter. Pirlo, the only other player to make the bench, didn't get a single minute of game time throughout the tournament.
Their positions within the national team were precarious at best.
A closer examination of the Italian squad revealed a clear trend: except for these four players from Millwall, every other member of the Italian team came from Serie A clubs.
In this era, Italian players venturing abroad often meant saying goodbye to their national team prospects. Zola, for instance, was a superstar in the Premier League but went unnoticed by the Italian selectors.
Had Millwall not dazzled in European competitions, players like Pirlo wouldn't have even been considered for the national team. Even when they were called up, they weren't trusted with key responsibilities.
To put it bluntly, if Millwall were to recruit an Italian national team regular, the player might refuse for fear of losing their international role.
If Pirlo were playing for an Italian club today, he might hesitate to make the move too.
Fortunately, Millwall signed them when they were unknowns, unsure of whether football could even provide a viable future.
But the harsh reality was now hitting them with unbearable force.
Despite their stellar performances at the club—crushing Serie A giants over the past two years—they could barely secure any playing time for the national team. How could anyone stand that?
As for club honors, they were just one UEFA Cup away from completing a grand slam of trophies. But seriously, who the hell cares about the UEFA Cup?
For Pirlo and his peers, the ultimate dream was achieving success with the national team. Their situation was starkly different from someone like Larsson, whose Swedish side treated international tournaments as mere opportunities to play one match at a time and rely on luck.
Italy, on the other hand, might not always be the favorite to win, but they were always contenders, consistently ranked among the top five or even top three. Serie A was still thriving, teeming with world-class players.
As the European Championship ended, Pirlo and the others went on vacation.
However, before the Italian team disbanded, Pirlo confided his frustrations to his roommate and close friend, Gattuso.
Gattuso, however, wasn't as affected. Nor was Materazzi.
For Gattuso, simply being called up was a blessing, likely a reward for his standout performance in the Champions League final, where he started and contributed significantly to Millwall's triumph.
Materazzi, meanwhile, was more self-aware. Although his accolades matched those of his teammates, he knew he couldn't compare to defenders like Nesta, Ferrara, or Cannavaro. Claiming otherwise would be arrogant.
Pirlo, however, had been a key player in two Champions League-winning campaigns. He firmly believed his abilities were on par with, if not better than, those of players like Albertini or Dino Baggio. The stark disparity in opportunities hit him hardest.
But Pirlo had chosen the wrong confidant. Gattuso wasn't thinking that far ahead. Moving past the sting of Italy's final defeat, he was brimming with anticipation for the new season. With Makelele's departure, Gattuso finally had a chance to secure a starting position, and he was determined not to let it slip away.
Pirlo decided to set aside his frustrations with the national team—for now. The future could wait.
Meanwhile, Aldrich returned to England after his vacation. However, instead of heading back to London with Yvonne, he asked her to find a new apartment while he made his way to Exeter City.
J.K. Rowling, returning to her alma mater for a speech, had invited him to attend.
Aldrich rarely turned down public engagements when he had the time, especially one personally extended by Rowling.
Seated in the front row of the Exeter University auditorium, Aldrich looked up at Rowling as she delivered her address on stage.
Over the past two years, Rowling's literary success had made her a household name. The Harry Potter series had achieved unprecedented acclaim, and as her friend, Aldrich couldn't help but feel happy for her.
"As you all can see, I'm a single mother who has been through some of life's lowest points. But I was fortunate. Today, I want to thank my friend, Aldrich Hall. When I had nothing, he supported me financially and encouraged me to keep writing. He believed in my success even more than I did. Without his help, I might have lost my way. He is the most important and special friend I've ever had."
Perhaps recalling her struggles in those early days, Rowling smiled softly, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked at Aldrich. The audience erupted into applause.
To everyone's surprise, the host then invited Aldrich to say a few words.
Almost everyone in the audience recognized Aldrich. As he walked up to the stage, the applause grew even louder.
But Aldrich's first words stunned the crowd.
"She's lying! Don't believe her! Ms. Rowling has deceived you all—she's a fraud!"
Aldrich's voice was firm, his expression light-hearted.
Gasps filled the room, but Rowling remained calm, smiling at him without the slightest hint of offense at his seemingly outrageous accusation.
The room fell into dead silence, as if everyone was waiting for Aldrich to explain himself.
"Allow me to introduce myself briefly," Aldrich began. "My name is Aldrich Hall, and I'm a football coach. Part of my job is to nurture young players. Before that, my colleagues and I assess their potential. If we believe a player has potential, we invest in their development. If not, we don't waste time. I don't have a magic wand to turn an average person into someone gifted. Ms. Rowling lied when she implied that. She had potential—she had talent for writing. That talent is hers, not mine to give. Without me, she would still have succeeded and be standing here today to share her journey with you."
His words dispelled the tension, much to the audience's relief. Many journalists present had hoped for a dramatic falling-out between the two friends, but Aldrich had skillfully steered the moment back to admiration and respect.
Having faced countless high-pressure situations, Aldrich was unshaken. Even without prior preparation, he had the charisma to win over the crowd.
"Apologies," he continued. "I never attended university, don't have vast knowledge, and haven't been influenced by the arts. But I do know that if you want to succeed, you have to work for it. To become a football coach, I spent eight years. To become a successful one, I've spent fourteen years and am still working hard.
"In my line of work, I see success stories—famous players. But I also see failures. Every May, countless unknown players are released by their clubs. Potential—does it matter? Of course, it does. But everyone's potential is different. When I was ten, I already knew I'd never become a professional player. If I'd stubbornly pursued that path, I'd likely be unemployed now."
He paused, letting the audience absorb his words.
"Confusion, setbacks, laziness, and discouragement—these are the real enemies. Part of my job is to help players overcome these enemies, to stay calm, be patient, adjust their mindset, and develop resilience. These intangible qualities often determine success more than raw talent. And Ms. Rowling is a perfect example of that."
... ...
Aldrich's impromptu speech might not have been particularly inspiring, but under the glow of his star power, it still earned applause from the audience. As he stepped off the stage, several students cheered—clearly, many of them were football fans.
By the end of the event, Aldrich had taken countless photos and signed more autographs than Rowling herself, making him even busier than the main guest of honor.
However, as he left Exeter University, a swarm of reporters descended upon him.
Ever since the Champions League final, Fleet Street's paparazzi had been relentless in tracking Aldrich's every move. Over a month had passed, and at last, the legendary young coach had reappeared!
"Mr. Hall, England has crashed out of the European Championship group stage. What's your take on the national team's performance? Do you think Keegan is still the right man to lead England?"
The questions came thick and fast, all centered on football, as expected.
Aldrich, in good spirits today, answered patiently.
"I think the national team was simply unlucky. We should give Coach Keegan more time—he took over the team on short notice, so it's too early to draw conclusions."
"But do you really believe it's just bad luck? Wasn't Neville's penalty error a critical mistake?"
Aldrich smiled and shook his head. "I've been coaching Millwall for six years now. While managing a club is different from leading a national team, I've never blamed a loss on a single player. It's unfair. Football is a team sport—it's not one player out there on the pitch; it's the entire squad. Four years ago, it was Gareth. Two years ago, it was David. Now it's Phil. You want to know what I think? My answer is the same: none of them is a scapegoat.
"If you can't accept that, then let's look at it another way. If England had secured qualification early, would Phil's mistake in the last match have mattered? Would you still label him a 'villain'? One player can't decide the outcome of the first two games. Phil made a mistake in the final game—that's all. He shouldn't have to carry the weight of the entire team's failure. That's too much for anyone."
It was easy for Aldrich to speak kindly about another team's player—it wasn't his problem. His words didn't matter much in the grand scheme, but they certainly earned him goodwill in the football world.
"Mr. Hall, will Millwall make any big signings this summer? Anelka's agent has claimed it would be an honor for him to play under you."
Chuckling, Aldrich replied, "I can't make guarantees about much, but I can say this: Millwall isn't interested in Anelka. You can quote me on that. He won't be wearing Millwall's colors—we don't need that many strikers."
"But isn't Millwall planning to sell Henry? Surely you'd need a replacement? I know you have Klose, and he's excellent, but what if he can't fill Henry's shoes? Do you have a backup plan?"
Aldrich brushed it off with a smile. "That's nonsense. Why would we sell Henry? He scored 49 goals last season. Forty-nine! Why would we let a striker like that go?"
"But Henry's agent has already announced that he won't renew his contract with Millwall. Real Madrid has offered £23 million plus a player, and Inter and Juventus are both offering £30 million in cash. Would Millwall really force Henry to stay? He only has two years left on his contract!"
The question caught Aldrich slightly off guard.
Even so, he maintained his composure, shaking his head firmly. "He'll stay at Millwall."
With that, Aldrich got into Rowling's car. Once inside, his expression darkened as he pulled out his phone and dialed Adam.
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