Football Dynasty

Chapter 178: Football communities

Two days later, during Manchester City’s ninth fixture of the season, Richard was back in his usual seat in the director’s box at Maine Road.

The match hadn’t even kicked off yet, and tension was already bubbling in the rows around him.

"You heard me," a man nearby said, arms crossed. "That Derby win was a fluke. Your back line’s soft, and your attack’s all hype."

Richard glanced sideways as another City fan shot to his feet.

"You call my team weak? Mate, do you even watch football? We smashed Derby four-nil yesterday! And you think bloody Sunderland has the edge? If City don’t score at least one goal today, I’ll bash my head on the concrete right here!"

He pointed dramatically down at the pitch. "You heard me too! One goal. Minimum. Or I’m going home with a cracked skull."

Richard rubbed his temples. The headache had started before kickoff.

All this shouting — the bravado, the tribal chest-thumping — it was exhausting.

Football clubs in England didn’t just survive on money or tactics — they thrived because of the people. The diehards. The communities. The love. But love like that had a dark side too.

And hooliganism, like a weed, was still rooted deep in the sport — even now, as the Premier League tried to polish its image and sell itself to the world.

Ever since the mid-1980s, when Prime Minister Thatcher ordered a serious crackdown on football hooliganism, things had definitely changed. Over the past decade, the results were obvious — at least at the top levels of the game.

But down in the lower leagues, where Manchester City currently found themselves, it was a different story.

The Premier League, ever since its creation, had become a polished, corporate machine. Big money, big sponsors — and a big desire to keep troublemakers far away from its image.

Hooligans didn’t fit the brand.

But they weren’t going to just vanish overnight.

While the spotlight had moved to glamorous Premier League fixtures, the lower divisions — with fewer cameras, fewer journalists, and less security — gave the old firms just enough space to survive.

That was the thing. The crackdown worked best where the money flowed.

And with most matches across the country happening on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, it didn’t take a genius to see where the police would be — Premier League stadiums.

The rest? They ended up with the leftovers—or sometimes didn’t get anything at all.

Greater Manchester police forces were already stretched thin maintaining order for Manchester United, especially during big matches against teams like Tottenham, Arsenal, and Blackburn.

Under these circumstances, City was competing in the First Division, which meant that down here, away from the glitz and glamour of the Premier League, the resources were scarce and the attention limited.

And hooliganism here—the old ways weren’t quite dead yet, just hiding in plain sight. The Guvnors were a perfect example, always lurking and causing chaos in City’s name.

Richard could’ve gone to the police, forced their hand, and had them sweep in to tear the firm apart. But would that fix anything?

Unlikely.

Get rid of one crew, and another would pop up somewhere else — maybe even worse. The Guvnors weren’t just thugs. They were born out of something older: pride, anger, identity, belonging. Cut them off, and the roots still clung to the concrete of Manchester.

In this city, trouble didn’t need a reason. Sometimes it only took a bad result, a spilled pint, or a sideways glance — and suddenly fists were flying, and no one remembered who kicked the ball first.

That’s why Richard had to be careful. Too careful, maybe.

The future of AFC Wimbledon is a perfect example of how community can be a double-edged sword in football.

Their chairman wanted to move Wimbledon F.C. to Milton Keynes?

Well, that meant the club had to brace itself for what was coming: protests, boycotts, and fierce opposition.

But after the FA announced their decision, the fans had no right of appeal. So what did they do?

They literally fucking created a whole new club from scratch — starting fresh under the banner of AFC Wimbledon.

No backing down, no second chances. Just pure passion and loyalty.

See?

That’s why Richard never wanted to lose supporters like this. They’re wild, sure, but their loyalty is real. So, the Guvnors? Let’s try to start brainwashing them from the lower-level members up.

And for that to happen...

’That’s why,’ Richard thought as he looked toward the pitch, "We’re the first to reach the Premier League. Yeah, next year, we have to make it there!

And that thought was similar to what Martin O’Neill believed too.

Because after wrapping up their eight league fixtures plus one League Cup match, they’d already set a record: nine straight wins, eighteen goals scored, and only three conceded!

Mainstream media was hardly paying attention to the English Football Division One — their cameras were too busy chasing the glitz and glamour of the Premier League. But nine wins in a row? That kind of form was impossible to ignore for long.

Whispers started turning into headlines. Pundits who once dismissed City as just another sleeping giant were now forced to acknowledge something was brewing at Maine Road.

It wasn’t just about the results. It was the way they played — aggressive, sharp, confident. A team with purpose.

People were starting to talk.

And Richard knew: if they kept this up, the noise would only get louder.

Time for promotion!

The best part of preparing for the Premier League?

Building the story.

Because before you conquer the spotlight, you need to own the narrative.

And when it came to storytelling, Richard knew there was one man in the world who understood that better than anyone: Vince McMahon — the mastermind behind the WWE, the king of turning drama into headlines, struggle into spectacle.

So Richard made the call.

"Vince. It’s me, Richard Maddox. I need a minute of your time."

He expected a secretary, maybe a cold redirect. Instead, Vince picked up directly.

"Talk to me."

In the end, the advice he got was simple: quietly feed the press what they love — a comeback narrative.

It was about redemption.

About the underdog clawing their way back. About a forgotten legend rising again when everyone else thought it was over. You didn’t need to flood the media with stats or empty promises. You just needed to give them emotion — give them storylines.

Manchester City, rebuilding from the ground up. A forgotten club, fighting its way back.

Every reporter loves a redemption arc — and Vince advised Richard to give them the perfect lines to run with.

Manchester City vs Sunderland

Sunderland had an impressive win record, nearly matching City’s—only separated by goal difference.

Both teams were locked in a fierce battle, each aiming for promotion to the Premier League, making them direct rivals this season.

Despite City’s strong momentum, Sunderland played cautiously.

O’Neill didn’t underestimate them either. The match was a tense, conservative affair from both sides, ending in a frustrating 0-0 draw after ninety minutes.

After Sunderland, there was no time for the squad to catch their breath. Just four days later, City traveled to face Crystal Palace, hoping for a better result—but once again, they were held to a disappointing 0-0 draw.

With two consecutive draws, Manchester City’s strong start was under threat, causing them to lose their top spot and drop to third—just behind Sunderland and Derby County, who quickly recovered after their losses to City!

Richard accepted the results without complaint—after all, City hadn’t conceded a single goal in five matches since conceding against West Brom in the sixth fixture!

He was genuinely thrilled with the team’s solid defensive performance.

Materazzi and Zambrotta quickly adapted to their new positions and the English weather, while Ferdinand, who had played a bit recklessly last season, began to show he could hold his ground when dealing with loose balls. Gallas played a big role in teaching him these skills.

Heck, even Lehmann, who had struggled during his time at Schalke, was now performing solidly between the posts. He was shedding his earlier doubts and beginning to show a tougher, more ruthless edge.

Upon returning to Manchester, Richard barely had a moment to rest—his focus immediately shifted to the promotion campaign ahead.

O’Neill, his staff, and the squad were also busy.

Although there were no First Division matches midweek, the second preliminary round of the League Cup was just around the corner — and, more importantly, the FA Cup clash against QPR later by the early November!

With a Premier League team waiting for them in the FA Cup, O’Neill sent out a full substitute squad to face Bury in the League Cup first.

The preliminary match ended in a 3-1 win for Manchester City, thanks to a brace from Solskjær and a lucky goal from Robbie Savage, successfully advancing them to the second preliminary round of the League Cup.

In the final third preliminary round, they were set to face Barnet — but first, they had to take on another First Division team. So, over the next two weeks City faced a tough series of matches.

They edged past Ipswich 2–1, then grabbed a tight 1–0 win over Barnet in the final preliminary round.

In the League Cup, clubs from the First, Second, and Third Divisions had to battle through the prelims before entering the main draw. For City, it started with a 4–1 win over Plymouth, then a solid 3–1 against Bury, and finally a gritty 1–0 over Barnet.

After back-to-back draws, they were finally back in the groove with two straight wins!

But on the night the League Cup first-round draw was revealed, Richard went quiet.

Blackburn Rovers.

Now that’s a proper heavyweight.

"Let’s focus on the FA Cup first," Richard said to O’Neill in front of him.

"You’re right," O’Neill replied, agreeing with him.

But first — the media. The questions everyone was itching to ask about the QPR match.