NOVPUB
Chapter 168: City August-September Fixture Review
Henrik Larsson’s debut for Manchester City was nothing short of spectacular!
He scored in his first match—finding the net even before the game reached the 11th minute. That means it took him less than ten minutes to break through Brentford’s defense!
Ronaldo, as always, was exceptional. Alongside his fellow countrymen Roberto Carlos and Cafu—now the new team captain—he put in a performance that certainly didn’t disappoint.
The new signings—Van Bommel, Materazzi, and Zambrotta—also brought a fresh energy to City’s play. Their presence added excitement, with fans cheering even during their physical altercations with opponents.
Materazzi, in particular, stood out for his aggressive style, tight marking, and hard tackles—hallmarks of his no-nonsense defending.
Brentford seemed to be looking for consolation goal, but every time they tried to deliver the ball to their forwards—whether from the back or down the flanks—their strikers were physically blocked by the towering presence of Materazzi. And whenever there was a loose ball, they quickly realized it had already been swept away by a speedy figure darting in from the side.
William Gallas!
Because of Richard’s provocation and the intense energy of the opening fixture—plus a brief skirmish with Richard before kickoff—Griffin Park erupted the moment the final whistle blew.
The entire stadium exploded in cheers.
The crowd roared in celebration with Richard, with fans in the nearest stands surging forward, desperate to flood the pitch and surround the players in a wave of admiration.
Fortunately, it was an away match with only a modest number of Cityzens in attendance, so the security barriers managed to keep them all in check.
After the match, Richard—true to his promise—opened his wallet and treated the City fans in attendance, grateful to those who had already done him a favor by chanting the lyrics he had written, crafted as a jab at Brentford vice chairman.
"Where’s that Mark guy?" he asked suddenly, scanning the crowd.
The young man who had thrown a cola at him earlier was nowhere to be seen. He wanted to thank him—for that unexpected save during the embarassment.
The man Richard had grabbed earlier in the stands glanced around before muttering, "Looks like the fight’s already started."
"...What?"
Richard froze.
’The fuck did he mean by, ’the fight’s already started’?’
Wait a minute... the City firm! Hooliganism!
Only then did Richard remember, and a wave of anxiety hit him. After all, this involved the club—and hooliganism was still a highly sensitive issue in the eyes of the English authorities.
Richard then felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around.
"Mr. Richard," the man said, noticing the worry on his face.
He continued, "Even though I don’t support things like this, sometimes it’s just... inevitable." He shook his head. "The government’s been trying to stamp it out for years, but they’ve failed. What could you possibly do to stop it?"
"..."
He had a point—and that only made Richard feel even more helpless.
"What about the CCTV?"
CCTV was installed in English football stadiums during the 1990s to tackle hooliganism, fan violence, and crowd control issues that had plagued the sport throughout the 1970s and 1980s—especially in the wake of major disasters and growing public pressure for reform. It was all done for the sake of safety and to modernize the sport’s infrastructure. 𝚗𝚘v𝚙𝚞b.𝚌𝚘m
"That’s what I was trying to say," the man said, his eyes drifting toward a narrow alley. Richard followed his gaze.
"Times have changed. Ever since the police installed CCTV in every stadium, they don’t just fight randomly like they used to. Instead of the mass brawls of the past, many firms now coordinate their fights in advance. They plan ahead and meet up far from the stadiums—sometimes even when there’s no match taking place."
Richard’s mouth twitched upon hearing this.
"So you’re saying, right now they...?"
"Most likely gearing up for a fight. That’s probably why that Mark Morran kid’s gone off the radar."
"..."
Richard naturally wasn’t interested in such a conflict. As long as it didn’t get out of hand or cause trouble, he didn’t care. After all, hooliganism was part of the culture.
So, he bid farewell to the man after paying for the hot dogs and chips, planning to return to Maine Road. However, before he could reach the parking lot, something caught the corner of his eye.
’That damn bastard!’
His eyes lit up as he strode toward them. After whispering and getting a nod from his bodyguards, Richard made his move.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, his voice unintentionally soaring seven octaves.
With a touch of feigned ignorance, he then turned to his bodyguard. "Did you see that? City just wiped the floor with them! Hahaha!"
The bodyguard, fully briefed, smoothly played along. "Of course! City is simply unbeatable—especially our new guy, Larsson. His ability to seize opportunities is incredible. Even though he’s not from the Premier League, he scored a goal so quickly."
Jeff Coff, the vice-chairman of Brentford, overheard this. It felt like a sharp jab to an open wound, and his face immediately darkened. He was just about to take a step forward when his phone rang.
Martin Lange — Chairman.
Jeff’s expression immediately changed. This transfer window, full authority over player movement had been delegated to him, as Lange was preoccupied with overseeing the club’s stadium expansion. The call could only mean one thing: business.
With a sharp snort in Richard’s direction—half annoyance, half resignation—he turned on his heel and walked away, phone pressed to his ear.
Richard, watching the whole thing unfold, couldn’t help but smile. He turned away with theatrical flair, grinning ear to ear, barely able to contain his laughter.
Thankfully, the media presence was still relatively limited in those early days, so only a handful of fans witnessed the conflict.
After securing a successful opening fixture, Richard refrained from mentioning that bastard’s name again. In his mind, Brentford was merely a stepping stone for Manchester City.
By the end of the first round, City had unexpectedly claimed the top spot in the league table, closely followed by Sheffield United, Millwall, Burnley, and other strong teams with promotion potential.
Upon arriving at Maine Road, Richard immediately got to work. When the first-team bus finally arrived, he summoned O’Neill to his office to discuss the plans for the upcoming month.
He began by outlining the competitions City would be participating in over the next few weeks.
Richard pointed to the folder in O’Neill’s hands. "Before the FIFA break in mid-September, we’ve got seven League One matches—against Barnsley, Stoke City, Bolton, Reading, West Brom, Burnley, and Watford. Two of those are midweek fixtures, meaning the players will have to handle two games in a single week. On top of that, we have the first round of the League Cup next week. If we get through, the second round will fall in the final week of September."
O’Neill studied the first-team schedule in the folder, falling into deep thought.
The weekend match against Barnsley shouldn’t be too difficult—after all, the Tykes were still in the same shape as last season and expected to battle in the relegation zone. Still, he knew better than to underestimate any opponent.
Especially Stoke City, West Brom, and Burnley—those would be the real tests for City. These teams were consistently in the top half of the First Division every year, all strong contenders for back-to-back promotion.
As the FIFA break approached, Richard emphasized to O’Neill the importance of maintaining a balanced mindset within the team. It was no easy feat to avoid the dangers of arrogance after a victory or the weight of discouragement following a defeat.
Such mental resilience required more than just the head coach’s guidance—it demanded a comprehensive approach, one that went beyond words and into the heart of their training.
The next thing he discussed was a growth and development plan for the young players.
"David will turn 18 this October, which means, systematically, he will no longer be able to join our U17 team for the youth competition. But I will make an exception for him this year, so please also take a look at the U17 team and identify potential players who could be promoted next season."
"David? You mean David Trezeguet? The lad who joined late with Craig Bellamy?"
Richard nodded at O’Neil’s question.
Next season, if City were promoted, the first obstacle they would face is probably the Premier League top dogs, along with La Liga or even Serie A, who would likely be knocking on their doors and making inquiries about their players’ availability. He needed to prepare for the worst.
O’Neil instantly understood what Richard meant. He thought for a moment before saying, "Let’s test him in the League Cup then, as a backup. The season is long, so we need to manage the main squad, ensuring they only play one match a week. Not to mention the Cup, even though we have mostly young players in the squad, so we must keep the match load reasonable."
Richard agreed with this.
"How about the next matches? What about the target?"
"As for the next matches, my goal remains the same: no losses, and to minimize conceding goals. Even if we draw one or two, I’d be okay with that."
"Okay then, do your best."
"Thank you."
After rising from his seat, O’Neil then bid farewell and left Richard’s office.
The next day, the media reaction was immediate and intense after Manchester City thrashed Brentford in a dominant performance—especially after City humbly stated their focus was "to survive in the league," deliberately avoiding any talk of a rivalry with Brentford.
The Guardian:
"CITY CRUSH THE BEES – BUT SAY ’NO BAD BLOOD’"
[...While fans might remember the tension from last season, City made it clear there’s no grudge—just goals. ’They came for points, not revenge,’ one insider told us...]
Daily Mirror:
"NO GRUDGE, JUST GOALS: CITY DESTROY BRENTFORD BUT DOWNPLAY RIVALRY"
[...The young squad could have played into the headlines, but instead they delivered a performance of cold, clinical efficiency—then walked away from the noise. Brentford fans may feel the sting, but City made it about the future, not the past...]
Even The ’bitch’ Sun, known for its dramatic flair, had no choice but to stay neutral. With City dominating Brentford from the very first minute, they were left with little to sensationalize.
Richard let out a quiet snort as he glanced through the newspaper Miss Heysen had brought in—especially when he saw The Sun trying to downplay their convincing win.
With work wrapped up for the day, Richard left the office earlier than usual. He had another engagement on his schedule: the grand opening of his latest hotel venture—The Biltmore Mayfair!
Previously known as the Britannia Inter-Continental London, Richard had decided it was time to rebrand his hotel chain under a new identity—The Biltmore Mayfair.
Moving forward, all hotels and resorts under Maddox Property would open under the Biltmore brand, marking a bold new Chapter in his hospitality empire.
So, while the previous opening, St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel, emphasized rich history and classic architecture, Biltmore would take a different approach, focusing on modern luxury and aiming to cater to a new generation of travelers who craved cutting-edge design and the latest in guest-centered technology.
Upon arriving at The Biltmore Mayfair Hotel, the first person Richard met was Miss Heysen.
She had already prepared his speech for the evening—one that would not only mark his presence at The Biltmore Mayfair Gala but also lead into the night’s second and most important agenda: the official announcement of the founding of the Maddox Group!
This announcement would serve to publicly introduce the group’s formation, outlining both the parent company and its newly established subsidiaries.
It was a moment intended to make a strong statement—not just about expansion, but about structure, vision, and the long-term ambitions of the Maddox Group as it stepped onto the global stage.
