Football Dynasty

Chapter 105: As the Legend Watches, Another Is Born

Four days later, City’s bus stopped at the designated spot.

When O’Neill and his coaching staff led the players out, they were surprised to see that the crowd surrounding them was filled with City fans—wearing blue jerseys.

Despite only being allocated around two thousand tickets for the match, they had shown up in force to support their team. All around them, chants rang out: "We’re not really here! We’re not really here!"

The chant symbolized Manchester City’s struggle in the lower leagues over the past six years—and it continued to echo even now. O’Neill had already come to understand its deeper meaning.

"We’re Not Really Here"—a chant loosely based on the spiritual We Shall Not Be Moved, which was famously used during the Civil Rights Movement in America—had become a unique anthem for City fans.

It had likely gained traction due to the club’s ongoing struggles in the lower leagues, becoming a symbol of hope and resilience.

City fans, who could hardly believe their club had fallen so far, adopted the chant in typical ironic, self-deprecating fashion.

There’s also another school of thought—that the lyrics were inspired by a City fan’s death during a trip to Amsterdam. A branch of supporters began singing about their late friend, and the chant eventually evolved into the wider anthem it is today.

O’Neill found it ironic, but still gratifying. At least City had loyal fans who were willing to support their team no matter what.

Today’s match marked City’s first true heavyweight challenge, and their first FA Cup match of the season—a real test, as they were set to face Nottingham Forest, a club freshly promoted to the Premier League after last season’s success.

Under the leadership of Frank Clark, who had succeeded Brian Clough, Forest had impressed. They were currently sitting in second place in the Premier League—a position that had surprised many.

In fact, Forest had launched an unexpected and serious title challenge, competing with heavyweights like Manchester United, Blackburn Rovers, Leeds United, Arsenal, and Liverpool.

It had been decades since a newly promoted club reached such heights—since Kevin Keegan’s Newcastle—and for Forest fans, this moment marked the beginning of a thrilling new Chapter, with their first European campaign on the horizon since the post-Heysel era.

The atmosphere in City’s locker room was electric—so much so that even Robertson, the assistant manager, hesitated to remind the players it was time to head out.

The squad was brimming with young talent, many of whom had never faced a Premier League giant before. Looking at the players’ faces—trembling with excitement, fire in their eyes—he thought it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. With a sigh, he joined O’Neill and the other coaches.

When O’Neill looked at Forest’s starting lineup, he was confused. Glancing up, he asked, "Are you serious?"

No Stan Collymore—their number 10. No Des Lyttle—their defensive anchor. Even Scott Gemmill and Lars Bohinen, two of their key midfielders, were left on the bench. In fact, the only player in the Nottingham Forest squad he recognized was their captain, Stuart Pearce.

That could only mean one thing: this was their second string.

McClaren, who had just returned from the official pre-match meeting with the referee and opposing coaching staff, sighed. "It can’t be helped," he said, shaking his head. "Three days from now, Forest face Leeds—probably the game they’re really focused on."

O’Neill nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. "That means no excuses for us either," he muttered. "They think they can take us lightly. Let’s make them regret that. Ronaldo! Roberto!" he called, his face hardening.

The moment both Ronaldo and Roberto Carlos heard their names, their eyes instantly lit up. "Yes, boss!" they responded eagerly in broken English, anticipation sparking in their voices.

O’Neill studied them for a moment, searching their faces for any sign of remorse or guilt. What he saw instead were hopeful expressions that made his heart soften just a little. Yeah, they’re still young after all, he thought.

Taking a step closer, O’Neill’s tone turned serious. "Do you understand what you did wrong?"

Their eyes briefly dropped, then they nodded. "Yes, boss. No more parties."

O’Neill let out a deep sigh, crossing his arms. "You know the rules. You were given a chance—and you blew it. Parties are fine when you’re focused and professional, but this... this is the third time." He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle. "So, as much as I don’t want to do this, it’s time for some punishment."

Their faces fell, the playful glint in their eyes fading as reality set in. O’Neill knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but discipline was necessary. "You’ll both be doing extra fitness training for the next week. No skipping. And you’ll apologize to the rest of the squad."

They nodded again, shoulders slumping in acceptance. "Understood, boss. We won’t let you down."

O’Neill gave a firm nod. "Good. Let this be a reminder—not just to you two, but to everyone on this team. Focus and discipline come first. Now, go get ready. The manager said you’re both in the starting lineup! We’ve got a match to win."

They turned to leave but paused and looked back at him. It hit them—they were actually in the starting lineup.

"Emile, swap with Ronaldo for the starting lineup. Nick for Roberto!" O’Neill announced.

Emile Heskey’s face fell. Being swapped out just before kick-off never felt good. But after a brief pause, he composed himself.

’Yeah, he’ll probably be out partying again after this, just like before,’ he thought quickly.

In fact, Ronaldo had tried to get him to join a few times, but he had always turned him down. His mouth twitched at the memory.

Three straight weeks of partying—every weekend, even staying out late before training. No wonder they had been dropped from the starting lineup. Emile figured it wouldn’t be long before they got into trouble again, so he wasn’t too concerned.

O’Neill, thinking Emile was upset, patted him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry, you’re still young. You’ve started the last three matches. You’ve got plenty of time to learn."

"I’m good, boss," Emile replied calmly.

With that, O’Neill clapped his hands sharply to get everyone’s attention.

"Lift your heads, all of you—lift your heads!" His voice cut through the room like a spark. "We haven’t even played yet, and they’re already underestimating us. Don’t let those Garibaldis think we’re scared of them. Understand? Now let’s go out there and play our game! Now go—go show them!"

With a roar, the players instinctively straightened up, heads held high. They walked out of the locker room, chests puffed out, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

For the first time in six matches, Manchester City was finally fielding their strongest lineup—Ronaldo and Roberto Carlos were both back in the starting eleven after being sidelined due to disciplinary issues.

While the team was still preparing, in the VIP box of City Ground sat a legendary figure—Brian Clough.

To most people, the name might have seemed unfamiliar. But to the world of English football, it was nothing short of iconic, legendary. He was the kind of man who could reprimand players and managers alike, regardless of their status. Even Sir Alex Ferguson wouldn’t dare talk back if Clough decided to scold him.

Ever since he stepped into the world of football, his name had appeared countless times, always accompanied by miraculous achievements.

As a player, he set the record for the fastest to score 200 goals. He scored 251 league goals in 274 matches for Middlesbrough and 54 goals in 61 appearances for Sunderland. It was an extraordinarily impressive scoring rate.

However, what truly made his name renowned worldwide and earned him the title of "the godfather of football" for an entire generation was his managerial career.

Brian Clough’s Generation. Just hearing the name evokes memories of how spectacular Derby County was during that time. Clough needed only two years to transform the struggling Second Division team into champions, and the following season, they won the First Division title. They then reached the semifinals of the European Cup later, though they were ultimately defeated by Juventus.

After resigning from Derby County, Clough joined Nottingham Forest, where he created an entirely new Forest Dynasty. There was no need for further illustration; anyone with even a basic knowledge of football in the 70s and 80s would know that the dominant color of English and European football during that era was red. That’s because the two teams that ruled European football at the time both wore red jerseys—Liverpool and Nottingham Forest.

The sun at 3 p.m. streamed through the large glass window, casting its golden light across the table. The golden rim inlaid on the ceramic cup sparkled in the sunlight. Black tea with sugar, a warm afternoon, and two people—a man and a woman—chatting, created the perfect scene for a traditional English high tea.

Mrs. Clough had finished the preparations and was now sitting beside her husband. She smiled as she listened to him reminisce about his glory days. Last year, when he decided to retire from Nottingham Forest, she feared that her husband had lost both hope and the will to live. So, seeing him so energetic again was a true pleasure for her.

Frank Clark, Clough’s successor and the current Forest manager, reassured him, "You’ll hear us score one goal after another."

This filled Clough with anticipation. After all, it could be said that Forest was now a team left behind by him. Even Derby County, a year after he left, managed to win the title once before eventually being relegated. Surely, he could expect the same from the current Nottingham Forest, right?

But as the match began, Clough watched, stunned, as goal after goal was scored. However, they weren’t by Nottingham Forest—they were by the away team, Manchester City. Just half an hour into the match, his legacy team had already conceded a goal.

And that wasn’t the end.

"Ronaldo! Ronaldo shoots and scores! What a beautiful attack! He gains possession outside the penalty area, dribbles past three players, and puts Manchester City 2–0 ahead of Nottingham Forest!"

Clough sat, dumbfounded in his chair, unable to believe what he had just seen.