The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 9: Arsene Wenger

Monaco, a principality blessed with picturesque scenery and a temperate climate along the Mediterranean, becomes a bustling tourist destination during the summer months. The streets throng with crowds, and Aldrich, dressed in casual sports attire with his hands tucked in his pockets and sunglasses perched on his nose, steps into a beautifully appointed café.

In a corner booth, a refined gentleman nearing his fifties stares dreamily out the window, lost in thought.

Aldrich approaches and takes a seat across from him, removing his sunglasses to reveal a warm, sunny smile. "Hi, Arsène."

The elegant man looks at Aldrich with a hint of admiration and replies, "It has been four years since we last met. The young boy has certainly grown into a remarkable man. Your unexpected visit to Monaco is quite fortunate; otherwise, I would have had to seek you out in London. Now, tell me, how did you manage to grab my player?"

Feigning ignorance, Aldrich shrugs and replies, "Sir, I have no idea who you're referring to."

"The young Frenchman! Just yesterday, I instructed the club to submit an offer to bring him back from Argentina, only to find out he had already packed his bags and left. Upon further inquiry, I discovered he transferred to Millwall."

The man sitting across from Aldrich is none other than Arsène Wenger, the current head coach of Monaco. Five years prior, Aldrich had witnessed Wenger leading the team to victory in claiming the Ligue 1 championship. Unfortunately, since then, Marseille has dominated with five consecutive titles, making Wenger's current situation quite challenging.

Aldrich knows the player in question is Trezeguet and chuckles, "It can't be helped; I need to carve out my own empire. Opportunity knocks, and I must seize it. As for how I did it—well, it's quite simple. My brother got acquainted with David over a year ago, and I offered him a first-team salary—three thousand pounds a week."

"But he's only seventeen."

Wenger furrows his brow and states in a disapproving tone, seemingly displeased with Aldrich's actions.

Aldrich wittily responds, "Ah, seventeen—such a rebellious age. To forge one's own path, one must first secure a steady income. Earning substantial money not only boosts confidence but also brings pride before family. Haha, Arsène, times are indeed changing. You must think I'm just throwing money around, but do you remember our conversation from six months ago?"

Wenger shows a moment of recollection before exclaiming in surprise, "The Bosman ruling?"

Aldrich nods, casually shrugging his shoulders. "This summer, many pundits will ridicule me as a reckless spender and a fool; that's of little concern, for time will prove everything. Now, onto the matter at hand: I wish to ask for your cooperation in releasing one of your players."

Wenger's demeanor darkens as he retorts with annoyance, "What's this? You've come to poach my players too? Who are you interested in?"

"A bid of five hundred thousand pounds has already been submitted to Monaco for Henry. Honestly, it's practically a gift—Henry's entire investment might not even total ten thousand pounds."

Upon hearing this, Wenger's eyes widen in incredulity. "Absolutely not! He is Monaco's future! Five hundred thousand pounds? Do you think Monaco is a small club unfamiliar with wealth?"

Aldrich simply smiles, saying nothing further.

Wenger continues to frown, saying, "The Times has reported on your activities since taking charge at Millwall; I've kept track of many of your developments. Most of the players you've recently signed are from lower leagues; those smaller clubs, desperate for cash, have no choice but to let their promising stars go. This is simply the reality of the football market, but Monaco is not your Second Bundesliga, Eerste Divisie, or Serie B..."

"Let's not be hasty; let's discuss this further."

"There's nothing to discuss; Henry is not for sale."

"What if I offer one million pounds? Surely Monaco would reconsider then?"

Wenger falls silent, looking at Aldrich with a sense of resignation.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh. "Marseille is taking my players, Paris Saint-Germain too, and now even you, this little rascal, are at it..."

Despite Marseille's successive victories in Ligue 1, Wenger has managed to keep his squad competitive while consistently losing key players, showcasing his coaching abilities. Unfortunately, a skilled chef cannot prepare a meal without ingredients—a predicament that would later mirror his situation during his illustrious tenure at Arsenal.

Feeling a twinge of sympathy for his old friend, Aldrich gently suggests, "Thuram."

Wenger looks puzzled, and Aldrich clarifies, "One and a half million pounds; I no longer want Henry. Please don't obstruct my pursuit of Thuram. Arsène, Thuram will not stay in Monaco. Offering one and a half million pounds for a defender is generous enough. If you don't let him go, are you just waiting for other clubs to come after him? I can provide him with a top-tier salary—eight thousand pounds a week."

Wenger appears somewhat tempted, particularly by Aldrich's remark about waiting for other clubs to make a move.

He has nurtured many talented players at Monaco, only to see them slip away, even those who were genuinely grateful to him, like George Weah.

"My captain—and you think you can simply take him for one and a half million?"

"Very well, I will not delay. What about three million pounds? Is that not sufficient for a defender?"

In this era, three million pounds represents the value of a top player. While it may fall short of a superstar's worth, it's worth noting that merely a decade ago, Maradona's transfer fee was only three hundred thousand pounds. The purchasing power of today has shifted significantly. Just seven years ago, the world record transfer fee for Gullit didn't exceed five hundred thousand pounds, and only two years prior, the transfer fees for elite players in the Premier League hovered around three hundred thousand pounds. Given that attacking players typically command higher fees, Aldrich's offer should be compelling enough for Monaco.

Moreover, he firmly believes that the lucrative contract he is proposing will entice Thuram. During this time, few players could command salaries in the tens of thousands unless they were exceptional talents. How many players can parallel Gascoigne, whose life was followed by a television station in a program with exceptionally high ratings in the UK?

Furthermore, Aldrich's contract includes clauses for salary increases and bonuses.

Wenger merely exhales a deep sigh, begrudgingly conceding to Aldrich's proposal.

As for Henry, while Aldrich desires him, he knows the opportunity has slipped away.

Once Henry rises to prominence in Ligue 1 next season, it's likely that one million pounds will not suffice. By the time the Bosman ruling settles next year, there will be no loopholes left. At that point, his greater concern will be how to retain the players already in his possession.

After an entire day discussing with Wenger in the café, Aldrich heads the next day to the coastal city of Nantes in western France, where he has another crucial transfer to negotiate.

A bid of one million five hundred thousand pounds is submitted to Nantes for Claude Makélélé!

Ultimately, the negotiation price solidifies at ￡2 million.

Aldrich similarly lured Makélélé with an impressive salary, but for these exceptionally skilled players, he also decisively included a clause in their contracts that allows for automatic termination should they fail to achieve promotion next season.

Upon returning to London, Aldrich receives a phone call from Italy.

"Mr. Hall, please forgive my intrusion, but your team is pursuing my son. I am uncertain what this signifies; while your team is in the second tier of English football, I presume the level of competition is likely to surpass that of the Italian C league. I wish for my son to find better training, yet I seek to understand your sincerity and your plans for the club's future."

Listening to the poor English on the other end of the line, Aldrich feels somewhat bewildered but maintains a composed demeanor, asking, "If I may be so bold, who am I speaking with?"

"Oh, I neglected to introduce myself. My name is Giuseppe Materazzi."

Realization dawns on Aldrich, and he responds respectfully, "Good day, sir. I indeed have an interest in signing your son. I harbor high expectations for the next season, the season thereafter, and even for the next five to ten years. I require a multitude of young talents to fulfill this ambition, and your son, Marco, plays a crucial role in my plans. If you have been observing my club, you would know we have recently acquired several capable players."

"Nevertheless, I do not wish for Marco to develop long-term in England."

"However, as you pointed out, if he remains in Italy, he would merely be competing in the C league. By coming to Millwall, he would engage in the English First Division next season, and in a year, he would find himself contending against premier teams like Arsenal, Manchester United, and Liverpool. Surely, that offers a far more substantial opportunity for his development, doesn't it? Forgive my candor, but how many years would it take for Marco to face top teams if he remained in Italy?"

"If Marco goes to England, can you assure me of his starting position?"

"Sir, in the First Division, there are 46 league matches plus two cup competitions each season; conservatively estimating, that amounts to roughly 50 matches. If Marco were to play in all of those matches, he would undoubtedly make remarkable progress."

On the other end of the line, Materazzi ponders deeply for a moment before ultimately stating, "Mr. Hall, I appreciate your sincerity, but I hope to receive one further assurance: if a more competitive Italian team expresses interest in Marco one day, you will not obstruct his departure."

Aldrich quietly sighs. The Giuseppe Materazzi on the other end is not just any player's father; he is a respected coach in Italy. It is only natural for him to contemplate his son's future, and deep down, he certainly harbors reservations about English football, simply wishing for his son to have a more substantial platform to develop. Whatever the case, it must be better than the Italian C league, particularly with a good salary and the experience to be gained from a different environment, allowing Marco Materazzi to accumulate valuable experiences.

However, one can only assume that he should ultimately return to Serie A, the pinnacle of competitive football in the minds of Italians.

"Sir, I assure you that should there come a day when Marco wishes to leave, I will not impede his departure. My management of the club and coaching philosophy revolves around a simple principle: good beginnings foster good endings."

"Oh? Mr. Hall, are you going to personally coach the team?"

"Indeed, I have been preparing and awaiting this day for the past eight years."

"Ha! I wish you the best of fortunes and look forward to witnessing you on the sidelines. I won't keep you any longer; goodbye."

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