章節 466: A Bold Gamble on Attack
A head coach might explain his tactical approach to the players during training, instilling a philosophy of play. However, when it comes to an actual match, it's almost impossible for the coach to explain in detail why and how they should play in order to improve their chances of winning.
Because the game changes in an instant, the pre-match plans may need to be adjusted—once, twice, or even more. The coach simply doesn't have the time to explain the reasons behind the adjustments. What he needs is the execution of the players on the field—more precisely, their tactical intelligence.
No matter whether they win or lose, the coach always bears the greatest responsibility. This is why he must possess such authority.
Ferguson certainly held that authority at Manchester United. He was the ruler of Old Trafford.
He understood well that coming to Millwall's home ground, playing defensively would mean both defeat and a loss of pride. Losing isn't what matters; it's the loss of respect that stings. For Manchester United, pride meant never "parking the bus" under any circumstances. This wasn't about conservative tactics, but about United's identity. While conservatism is a strategy, "parking the bus" means abandoning all offense entirely—a line United would never cross.
But what about counter-attacking?
Arsenal's collapse was the perfect example of failure, and it must not be replicated.
Manchester United must attack—boldly, recklessly, and with a do-or-die mentality, regardless of conceding goals!
Only by putting pressure on the attack and stretching the game could they hope to match Millwall's intensity.
However, maybe it was the two-goal lead after just 10 minutes that led Manchester United's players to feel uneasy in their hearts.
Players aren't puppets on a string, nor are they just data points in a video game, mindlessly following commands. When the flow of the game hits them hard, their instincts—sharpened by years on the field—drive them to make the moves they feel are right.
When Ferguson noticed this, he immediately ran out to shout at the players, urging them to keep attacking, not to be afraid of conceding goals!
The more you fear something, the more it will happen!
"Sir Ferguson noticed something was wrong on the field, and he reminded the players. But it took a while for the players to understand. Millwall's goal proved Sir Ferguson's insight into the game, but it couldn't help Manchester United avoid conceding."
Standing at the sidelines, Ferguson commanded the team with the authority of a general, while Aldrich remained calm and composed, quietly standing at the edge of the field with his usual expression.
This was quite fitting for the life stance each of them should have at their respective ages.
After Manchester United conceded, the players seemed to wake up, and though they still led, Ferguson's roar reminded them of the pre-match tactical instructions.
Attack, attack like mad—no matter the score, unless Ferguson waved his flag to change tactics, they were not to make any changes!
The game became wide open.
It seemed that both teams had given up on midfield, with almost no passing through the center. Every pass was aimed forward after just three touches.
It looked like the midfield wasn't guarded, but it wasn't unguarded at all.
Instead, both teams had entered a state of counterattack. Manchester United's two forwards and two wide midfielders pressed against Millwall's defense, while Scholes and the advancing Keane held off Nedved and Gattuso. Pirlo, who had a noticeable speed disadvantage, couldn't push up and down as quickly, so he was kept in the central and defensive areas.
In this back-and-forth attacking game, the attacking threats came only from the counterattacks after the opponent's attack failed. To play quickly, they had to break through the midfield swiftly. This made it seem like neither team had any defensive presence in the midfield unless they resorted to tactical fouls.
In this exciting back-and-forth, Millwall actually seemed to be less threatening than Manchester United.
Aldrich observed for another ten minutes, then finally made up his mind to adjust.
Today, Pirlo's defensive issues were exposed for all to see. Meanwhile, Millwall wasn't as reckless as Manchester United, with Larsson and Ronaldinho tracking back, and the counterattacks starting from their defensive area. As they pushed forward, Manchester United had clearly prepared for such counterattacks with fewer numbers. They either slowed the pace or used fouls to disrupt the attack and buy time for the midfield and forwards to fall back.
In the midst of a stoppage in play, Aldrich seized the chance to pull Ronaldinho close.
Ronaldinho looked serious, fully expecting Aldrich to give him a secret mission, maybe even make him the surprise weapon of the team!
But what Aldrich said made him think he must have misheard.
"From now on, you don't need to track back on defense. Stay up in the midfield. Pass the same message to Henrik and Thierry."
Ronaldinho stared at him, bewildered, thinking he'd caught the words wrong.
"Uh, Boss, could you say that again?"
"You, Henry, and Larsson stay up front—don't worry about defending."
"What the—! Boss! You're finally going soft on us at a time like this?" Ronaldinho's mouth hung open in disbelief.
To be honest, with the skills he, Henry, and Larsson had, they enjoyed some special privileges on most teams, one of which was being excused from defensive duties. Back on the Brazilian national team, Ronaldinho wasn't tasked with much defense either.
But at Millwall, defense was non-negotiable. Attackers didn't have to score perfect marks on defense, but they were expected to at least earn a passable grade of 60%. Midfielders started at 80%, and defenders, of course, were expected to be at 100%.
So, hearing this, Ronaldinho was shocked.
Aldrich gave him a deadpan look and gave his head a firm shove. Ronaldinho stumbled back a step, but then turned and grinned at Aldrich, who impatiently shouted, "Get going!"
Ronaldinho gave a thumbs-up before sprinting back to relay the message to Henry and Larsson. Both looked skeptical, thinking Ronaldinho had to be joking.
"This is insane!"
With United's relentless attack, how could Aldrich possibly tell them not to defend?
"Ronaldinho, Now's not the time for jokes!"
Henry and Larsson didn't believe him until they glanced to the sidelines and saw Aldrich nod in confirmation.
A few seconds later, Aldrich sent Nedvěd instructions, just one simple line: "Switch positions with Pirlo."
Nedvěd didn't question it. In fact, he wholeheartedly welcomed Aldrich's adjustment.
Defense was all about marking. If Pirlo, positioned there, got caught in one-on-one situations or left a gap in coverage, it was a liability. His teammates would constantly be questioning whether to cover for him. That hesitation disrupted focus.
This situation was rare, as most teams wouldn't take such an aggressive man-marking strategy against Millwall. Even if they tried, few had the strength to make it work. But United was different; their front line ranked among Europe's best, and with Keane pushing up from midfield, leaving Pirlo in that defensive role was a risk. It was better to free him up and let Nedvěd handle it.
This adjustment also allowed Pirlo to maximize his playmaking potential on the counterattack.
As Scholes and Keane both advanced, Pirlo was left behind, without anyone in charge of him. When Millwall made their push, Pirlo's positioning was perfect—he had all the space in the world to receive the ball. With no one to block him, the chances of him being restricted were dramatically reduced.
From her seat in the VIP box, Yvonne turned to Puskás with a smile, "Look, Aldrich is making adjustments on the fly. Millwall will score soon."
Puskás smiled. "Football, anything is possible. Adjustments don't always guarantee good results."
"How about a bet, then? I'm certain Millwall will score the next goal, and the score will be equalized."
"A bet? What's at stake, little one?"
"Hmm, let me think… Dinner, a signed photo."
"Oh, if I win, you'll treat me to dinner?"
"Yes, and Elizabeth too."
"So, if you win, I just need to sign an autograph for you?"
"That's right."
"Seems a bit unfair, doesn't it? I'm getting the better end of this deal."
"No, I'm the one taking advantage, heh heh."
"Alright then, the bet is on."
"Watch closely, I'm going to win for sure!"
Yvonne raised her fist in the air, a grin spreading across her face like she'd already won, but just then, the whole stadium fell into a hushed silence.
She looked back at the field to see United players racing toward the corner flag in celebration.
Puskás turned to Yvonne, who sat there dumbstruck, and said with a smile, "Well, that was an easy win for me."
"How is that possible…?"
Yvonne mumbled, as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Unfortunately, The Den didn't have a big screen, so there was no replay to watch.
If she had been watching from home, she'd have heard Martin Tyler's excited yell:
"Scholes! Scholes! Scholes has bagged a second, and Manchester United are now leading 3-1 against Millwall! With only a minute left in injury time, Millwall are staring down the possibility of going into the break two goals behind—this could be the end of their winning streak!"
In the replay, Scholes took a long-range shot from forty yards out. It didn't seem to pose much danger at first, but Gattuso, just three yards away, blocked it with his body. The ball ricocheted off his calf and looped unexpectedly into the top corner of the goal. Butt, who was sitting on the goal line, had no words, just staring at the ball in disbelief.
Since the start of the new season, he had been guarding the net. Not only had he never conceded three goals in a match, but on average, he only allowed 0.3 goals per game!
Millwall's forwards exchanged glances, and Henry scratched his head. He walked up to Larsson and quietly asked, "Is this really okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"The boss told us not to get involved in defense, but we've conceded again."
"That's not something we should be worrying about."
Larsson remained calm, having seen it all after years of playing for Millwall. Before the restart, he said to Henry, "If you get the chance, go watch all the games we've played against Manchester United."
The passionate, explosive matches between Millwall and Manchester United were no surprise—this was directly tied to the playing styles and strengths of the two teams.
Millwall's very first Premier League match was against Manchester United, and the 5-5 draw was still fresh in Larsson's memory. If they had let themselves become anxious or doubtful after falling two goals behind, Millwall wouldn't have made it this far.
When the halftime whistle blew, Ferguson's face was glowing, while Aldrich, with his hands in his coat pockets, walked down the tunnel with a calm demeanor.
The third goal had nothing to do with tactics. Using a word he never liked but had to use today: luck.
If long-range shots from 40 yards out guaranteed goals, Manchester United would have rewritten the rules of football.
That goal wouldn't affect his thinking. The scoreline had changed, but the tactical battle between the teams and the coaches remained unchanged.
Millwall might score a few goals like that over the season, but they never truly relied on shots from such distances. Scoring from that range was one thing, but making it a reliable scoring method was another. Most of the time, long-range shots were either tactical plays or last-ditch efforts when no other opportunities for a pass or break-through were available.
Manchester United had extended their lead by two goals, and with Ferguson's earlier roar still echoing, it seemed that, at least in the second half, United's players wouldn't be making any self-adjustments.
Aldrich looked forward to the second half.
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