Football Dynasty-Chapter 580: Before the Tours and Alex Ferguson Knighthood

The season is over, but how did all the excitement end so quickly when the most prestigious league was basically won by an English team?

They were the first English club to win Europe's premier club football tournament since Liverpool in 1984 and also the first English club to reach a Champions League final since the Heysel Stadium disaster which led to the banning of English clubs from all UEFA competitions between 1985 and 1990.

After finishing the previous season without winning any trophies, the way they prevented Bayern Munich from achieving the feat themselves can be described as magical. They won the trophy without losing a single match, despite competing in a group with Bayern Munich, Barcelona, and Brøndby, plus facing two highly rated Italian clubs in the knockout stages!

Across Britain, the conversation was the same everywhere—on television panels, in newspaper columns, in crowded pubs, and on late-night radio shows. From London to Liverpool, from Glasgow to Manchester, supporters and analysts repeated the same sentiment. In the Sky Sports studio, the room fell silent for a moment as the replay of the decisive goal played again on the monitors.

"United were brilliant this season, but finals are cruel. City turned up when it mattered most."

Another pundit nodded slowly.

"Indeed… their treble dream ends here. They conquered the Premier League, they conquered Europe in the UEFA Champions League… but at Wembley, Manchester City denied Manchester United the final piece."

The monitor then switched to the previous season's recap.

Premier League: Manchester United

Worthington Cup (League Cup): Manchester United

FA Cup: Manchester City

UEFA Champions League: Manchester United

UEFA Cup: Parma

Many Red Devils supporters looked at this with pained expressions. If only they could have completed the treble. Unfortunately, in reality, there are no "ifs."

With the season finally over, every club had already begun preparing for the next one. For many clubs, the summer break was not truly a break at all—it was the beginning of the next battle.

Pre-season tours were arranged, young academy players were called up to prove themselves, and coaching staff finalized their preparations for the long campaign to come. In football, the end of one season simply meant the quiet beginning of another.

Manchester Airport, 1999.

The chilly English morning brushed against the terminal windows. Flights were being called overhead, luggage trolleys clattered on polished floors, and passengers bustled past cafés and check-in desks.

David Silva, Sergio Busquets, Scott Carson, James Milner, and Aaron Lennon leaned casually against their carry-ons near Gate 12, their eyes scanning the printed flight schedule. They whispered quietly, pointing at destinations and comparing notes about their trip to Italy.

Their destination?

Northern Italy — Val Pusteria.

It was the place requested by the club's head fitness coach, Antonio Pintus, where players from the senior squad down to the juniors would begin their pre-season training before the club's pre-season tours. As for why Richard was with them, it was because among all the players at the club, they were basically the only ones who were still under the age of fifteen.

Most of them were between twelve and thirteen years old. Since David Silva and Sergio Busquets were not yet fluent in English, he needed to connect them with teammates their own age so they could adapt more quickly.

The plan was for the team to depart from Manchester Airport early in the morning. After a short flight to Innsbruck, they would continue the journey by coach, winding through the narrow Alpine roads before finally reaching Val Pusteria several hours later. All the staff and coaches would also travel with the group. As for Richard's group, of course they would be flying by private jet—after all, what was the point of buying one if it was never used?

The boys were basically busy with themselves. A few steps ahead, Richard leaned slightly over his mobile phone, speaking in hushed tones.

He was currently in conversation with a towering figure in European football, the UEFA president, Lennart Johansson—a former enemy of his who had now become a good acquaintance. (Note: Richard faced him and the FA head in court around Chapter 80.)

Richarld grinned and teased, "I must say, your decision to replace the European Cup with the UEFA Champions League was bold. I guess your position is pretty solid now?"

"Don't give your bloody excuses," Johansson only sighed, adjusting his cufflinks as if preparing for a delicate negotiation in his office. "Hey, now don't pretend to me. Is this the Premier League letter to the UEFA Congress from you? If it is, I'll see if I can find a way to get it approved."

Richard was taken aback by this. "What are you talking about?"

"The letter, about the Champions League qualification. Is it really from you?"

Richard frowned. "Tell me more about it."

After getting the explanation about it, Richard finally understood the gist of the letter. It was basically about the qualification of Premier League teams for the UEFA Champions League.

Basically, only three English teams could qualify for the next season's Champions League. However for the next season, because Manchester United won the Champions League and also finished first in the league, there was genuine hope that they would automatically qualify, which could have allowed a fourth English team to enter. In short, the Premier League and English clubs were asking UEFA to increase the number of places to four for the next season.

"And what were UEFA's considerations?"

"What else? the 'title-holder' scenario was already covered. Only if a team wins the Champions League but finishes outside the top three can that country get four teams. To be honest, I myself considered this arrangement flexible enough."

Richard nodded.

The problem is that each league is allocated spots based on UEFA's coefficient rankings, and currently England only had three. Giving an extra spot to just one league would have been unfair to the others. UEFA has clear regulations, and they definitely didn't want to change the rules suddenly.

"To be honest," Richard muttered, "even if you gave in to them, it wouldn't matter much. The Premier League is strong, yes, but the extra spot… it won't change the real balance of power."

Johansson raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

'Because the fourth spot, if it goes to an English club, will likely end up with Chelsea.'

And Chelsea, as long as it's still Ken Bates, not his Russian friend Abramovich… well, let's just say nothing fundamentally changes. Of course, Richard wouldn't tell him that outright. So he could only giving him and advice.

"I cannot give you direct advice, because that wouldn't be fair. But it's time to make a tougher change. You are the current president, and many people are waiting and looking to you. You need to—"

Change isn't about pleasing everyone. It's about steering the game in the right direction—even if it makes some people uncomfortable. After giving his input, Richard then ended the call. Then, as he remembered something, he paused for a moment, lost in thought, before picking up his phone again.

The phone clicked, and a tentative voice answered.

"Hello?"

Richard allowed a small, teasing smile. "Is this… Alex Ferguson? Or may I say it properly… Sir Alex Ferguson?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Silence stretched for a few seconds.

"Who is it?" the voice finally asked, cautious.

Richard's smile widened. "It's me, Richard Maddox."

"Oh… Mr. Richard Maddox?" His voice carried a note of surprise.

Richard smiled, even though Ferguson couldn't see him. "I got your number from Martin Edward. And, by the way, congratulations. Well deserved. You've really done your clubs and English football proud."

He receives a knighthood just over two weeks after guiding Manchester United to the "incomplete treble" basically. The two spoke for a moment, exchanging a few final words before it seemed like the conversation would end.

"Then, Sir… take care—" Richard was about to end the call immediately. After all, he didn't know Sir Alex very well; they had only met occasionally when he was with Martin Edwards.

"Wait, Mr. Richard!"

Unexpectedly, the one who had called first wasn't Richard but sir Alex. Richard was caught off guard.

'What is it? He wants to jump ship? Buying our players like Ole?'

No way!

Richard had already prepared to reject any such move—even if Ferguson was now Sir Alex.

"Mr. Richard, what do you think about BSkyB's recent bid on Manchester United?"

"…"

That was a very unexpected question, to be honest. Richard rubbed his forehead.

'This goddamn Murdoch. Why won't he ever give up?'

Early in the season, the club had already been subjected to a takeover bid of £500 million, which had been blocked. Rules limiting outside media ownership of clubs, along with the Football League regulations, had prevented the takeover even if Martin Edwards had wanted to accept it. But he had never imagined that, even while in Spain, it would escalate again.

"How much did they bid this time?"

"More than £600 million. Martin has already accepted the offer," the voice admitted.

Richard paused for a moment, weighing his words carefully.

"Sir…" Richard coughed lightly, buying himself a second to think. "To be honest, I don't know all the details, but what I can say is this: He will never gain control of Manchester United. Not by the FA, not by the Premier League, and certainly not under the scrutiny of the Monopolies and Mergers Commission. Even if the board accepted, the regulatory bodies would block it."

'And trust me—Murdoch won't succeed here. Even if they all accept it, I will not allow him to become the owner of Manchester United!'

Never!

It was a vow Richard made to himself. That man was extremely dangerous—practically a poison, perhaps comparable to someone like Epstein. Because of that, Richard swore he would sabotage any plan Murdoch had for English football. Sky Sports was already enough.

"You sure?"

"A hundred percent. The Monopolies and Mergers Commission will not allow it."

A pause followed. On the other end, Sir Alex remained silent for a moment, absorbing the news. Relief soon followed, and he let out a quiet chuckle.

"So even Murdoch has his limits, eh?"

Richard allowed himself a small smile. "Apparently so, Sir. Apparently so."

-----

Sorry for the long hiatus. The weather has been really terrible lately—sometimes it rains, and sometimes it gets extremely hot. I haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks, but I will try to consistently continue Football Dynasty.

Thank you for your patience, and thank you as well to all the readers of Football Dynasty.