The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 248: One Superstar a Year

In a match that felt more like a warm-up for the Community Shield, both the Red Devils and The Lions were not looking to engage in heavy physical confrontations. Although they approached the game seriously, Keane's tackle was excessive.

What had started as a match without a single yellow card changed quickly when Keane injured Lampard and simultaneously hurt himself. Before he could be taken off on a stretcher, the referee showed him a red card.

Ferguson's face darkened, and he swiftly substituted key players, abandoning any hope for the match.

Aldrich decided to use two more substitutions, bringing on Materazzi and Ferdinand to replace Southgate and Lampard, while Elguera pushed forward to see what he could do.

As Manchester United started to retreat with one man down, Millwall's attacking play became less aggressive and fierce.

The two new wingers struggled as the defense closed in on them, and their performances weren't as effortless as during their counterattacks.

Duff was playing with one leg; his right foot technique was frustratingly poor, almost incapable of trapping the ball while running.

Van der Meyde dribbled, dribbled, dribbled until he found himself cornered and with no choice but to eke out a shot...

Aldrich watched from the sidelines, scratching his head in disbelief.

Though these two had made it to the first team this season, they still needed more time to adapt. Their playing habits and awareness needed improvement, and their personal skills required honing.

Van der Meyde was overly attached to the ball, while Duff's right foot seemed useless.

In the last few minutes of the game, even though The Lions' fans were thrilled about their first-ever Community Shield victory—after missing out last year against Manchester United—they couldn't help but feel that Duff and Van der Meyde's performance in those crucial moments felt like watching two completely different players.

No team at Manchester United's level, even with substitutes, could easily let inexperienced youngsters have their way.

Regardless, when the match ended, Millwall's players were thrilled to have another trophy in their cabinet.

The Community Shield was a continuation of last season's competitions, thus allowing Millwall to include this trophy in their list of accolades from the 96-97 season.

Fans unfurled banners from the stands featuring four trophies, boldly declaring: "Four-Time Champions."

Aldrich walked over to shake hands with Ferguson and then stood by the field to speak with reporters.

When discussing the match, Aldrich delivered some clichéd remarks. After all, it was just a warm-up; winning didn't need to be overly celebrated, and losing didn't warrant an angry reaction. He hadn't felt any regret after losing this match last year.

Following the awards ceremony, the players didn't celebrate extravagantly. Captain Southgate led the team to leave Wembley quickly, as they needed to rest for the upcoming opening match of the Premier League a few days later.

On August 7th, after lunch, Aldrich arrived early at the club, where the staff presented the preseason family photos. He placed the framed picture on his desk before walking into his office.

His office had a simple layout with a desk against the floor-to-ceiling window, a sofa with a coffee table in the middle, and a bookshelf filled with football-related books as well as non-football reading material for moments of relaxation.

On the other wall hung three frames displaying team family photos from the 94-95, 95-96, and 96-97 seasons.

As for the trophies the team had won, they were displayed in the club's honor room, while Aldrich kept his personal awards at home.

Carrying the newly framed family photo into the room, Aldrich suddenly froze in place.

His gaze drifted back and forth among the three photos.

After some time, a knock on the door broke his focus. The office door was open, and Yvonne stood by the entrance, having watched Aldrich for a minute.

Aldrich snapped back to reality, and Yvonne walked beside him, looking up at the photos on the wall. "If they make you feel sad, why not just put them away? I think it's better to showcase the photos of the team winning trophies; at least they'll bring some joy to those who see them."

Aldrich looked down with a wry smile. "What's the difference? Don't those photos also feature players who have left?"

Yvonne shrugged helplessly. She had always been a die-hard supporter of Millwall, the team's most loyal fan.

Sometimes, thinking of the players who had left made her feel downhearted.

They had once been so passionate about the team, yet they couldn't stick around.

Aldrich retrieved a small toolbox from the bottom drawer of his desk and nailed a hook to the wall, hanging the newly framed family photo.

With the fourth season about to begin, he took satisfaction in admiring the four photos, realizing that while the new one featured missing faces, many familiar ones remained.

Time had certainly marked the faces in those images.

The players were growing, and the team was becoming stronger alongside them.

"I need to talk to you about something important."

Yvonne sat down on the sofa and poured herself a glass of water.

Aldrich leaned back against his desk. "Go ahead. Need me to close the door?"

Yvonne thought for a moment before responding, "No, I'm responsible for the club's publicity. Given our recruitment policy and long-term building philosophy, since we can't create a sensation in the transfer market, we need to be capable of promoting a world-class player on our own. You can't deny that, can you?"

Without hesitation, Aldrich nodded in agreement.

It wasn't just about whether Millwall had the funds to attract stars; it was that stars simply weren't inclined to come here unless they were washed-up players—all hype, with skills that had long faded.

"So, in terms of publicity, even though our club's mission is to avoid highlighting individuals and prevent players from becoming arrogant and overshadowing their teammates, to enhance the club's influence and reputation, we need to focus on promoting one player each year."

Yvonne's suggestion left Aldrich puzzled, causing him to furrow his brow. "Can you elaborate on that?"

Yvonne patiently clarified, "Last season, when the team won so many trophies, who were the heroes?"

Aldrich naturally replied, "The entire team deserves credit; there's no distinction between starters and substitutes. While contributions may vary, we needed everyone."

Yvonne continued, "Who was the standout player?"

"That would be the main players. They played more matches and had more key moments; naturally, they shone the brightest."

"So the issue arises here: in the public's eyes, many fans admire Larsson, others appreciate Nedved, and fans of Trezeguet, Shevchenko, Pirlo, Schneider, and so on—there's a prevailing notion that although Millwall doesn't have a top-tier star, these first-team players collectively make us a top team."

"While this idea has its flaws, it's not entirely off the mark either."

"However, if we want the club's influence to reach new heights, we must have players with greater recognition. So I believe we can implement a 'one superstar a year' strategy in our publicity!"

"One superstar a year?"

Aldrich looked up at the ceiling with a bewildered expression.

This strategy sounded familiar.

But he knew it wasn't the same as Real Madrid's superstar policy.

Yvonne detailed her proposal.

"The criteria for a superstar include not only team accolades but also top individual honors like the Ballon d'Or and the World Player of the Year. While these aren't hard metrics, most players who win the Ballon d'Or or are named World Player of the Year are recognized as superstars. Millwall's players may not ultimately achieve these honors, but they should at least aim to rank high in the competition; even coming in second or third place is better than not making the top three."

Aldrich nodded in agreement.

What defines a superstar?

It's not just the accolades but also the influence.

George Best was a superstar in his time this lad not only commanded a legion of fans during matches but also influenced various realms, such as fashion, making him a true icon.

Many who are called "top players" and have excellent skills might not achieve the level of influence that qualifies them as superstars.

Of course, it's similar to how the term "genius" has been overused; in the future, with the commercialization of football and its global dissemination, the term "superstar" will also be diluted, with anyone achieving a bit of success being labeled as a superstar—a blatant exaggeration.

Over the next twenty years, David Beckham stands out as the most successful football superstar.

When it comes to pure skills, he had his unique talent, even if he wasn't the team's soul. However, when considering his cross-industry influence stemming from commercialization, Beckham undoubtedly fits the bill of a superstar. You could ask a hundred non-football fans, "Do you know who Beckham is?"

Many would know Beckham, while only a few would recognize names like Zidane or Figo, despite their superior on-pitch talents.

"Your idea of publicity is quite complicated. Let's put it this way: some players don't want to be in the spotlight, dislike showboating, and prefer their private lives mostly kept out of the limelight, which inevitably lowers their visibility..."

"I know, I understand. My intention isn't to force players to change; you certainly wouldn't agree to that. What I mean is that we can focus our efforts on promoting one player each year, allowing him to achieve higher commendations in personal honor selections. Last season, Millwall was outstanding, but have you ever considered how many players from our team would be nominated for the Ballon d'Or?"

Yvonne's words plunged Aldrich back into thought.

"At least three, right? Defensive players often go unrecognized; even if nominees arise, it's for balance's sake. In the final selections, few voters would cast their votes for defensive players. Pirlo is still too young; while the most professional football critics sing his praises, he likely won't attract much attention in popular evaluations. Among Nedved, Larsson, Trezeguet, and Shevchenko, ah, I might be overly optimistic—two would be a good outcome: Larsson and Nedved."

Aldrich sighed.

Yvonne continued, "Assuming Larsson and Nedved both get nominated, who do you think has a better chance of winning?"

Aldrich hesitated to answer, knowing it would not sit well with him.

"Larsson."

"But many voters might admire Nedved and vote for him."

"Oh, I get what you mean now."

Aldrich rubbed his forehead, reflecting on the future Ballon d'Or voting scenarios.

The Spanish national team, boasting three major tournament championships in four years and centered around the Barcelona system—a champion team—didn't have a single Ballon d'Or winner.

And with Barcelona, powered by stars like Xavi and Iniesta, dominating Europe during those years and the national team achieving unprecedented glory, how was it possible that not a single player received the Ballon d'Or?

Were the voters blind?

Not entirely...

Firstly, one cannot deny that in those years, Messi was simply outstanding, with plenty of favor among the voters.

However, both Xavi and Iniesta demonstrated their worth at both the club and national levels. Their combined brilliance may have split the vote among those who appreciated them, preventing either from securing the coveted award.

This posed a dilemma: voters favoring Xavi would vote for Xavi, and those favoring Iniesta would vote for him. Both players shared equal honors at their club and national team level. In the context of Barcelona's dream team, they were inseparable. Voters felt justified in their choices, yet this left the Spanish team, with such remarkable achievements, without a single Ballon d'Or winner.

"So how am I supposed to discuss this with my players? I can't exactly tell Pavel, 'Hey, Henrik performed excellently last season; he's a contender for the Ballon d'Or, and the club will do everything to support him—just take it like a champ, alright?'"

Aldrich understood the reasoning but felt uneasy about it all.

Then again, having multiple standout players within a club can create competition for individual accolades, which often leads to internal conflict. Rather than letting others benefit from that, it's better to lift one's own.

"Don't worry about it. The club will handle the publicity. Some efforts will be visible, while others might be more discreet. No need to alert the players and complicate their focus."

"And what do you mean by discreet efforts?"

"Publicity strategies—we can privately connect with specific media outlets, sharing an abundance of our goal highlights. We'll liaise with certain television programs, arranging to feature interviews focusing on Larsson's performances. We can even recruit some publications to praise him in writing... You don't need to approach this from Millwall's angle to promote the players."

Aldrich widened his eyes in surprise, gazing at Yvonne, who wore a charming smile. "So you're the clever one!"