Football Dynasty

Chapter 97: First Blood

Maine Road was packed to capacity by 3 PM on August 12th, with City’s anthem echoing through the tight confines of the stadium.

This marked Richard’s first official appearance as Manchester City’s true owner, and he was determined to present a more approachable demeanor with both the fans and media.

Arriving early, he readily engaged with reporters, handling their questions effortlessly. He answered each query with ease, bantering playfully with them.

As for the articles that would follow, he gave them little thought; what he sought was recognition—after all it would reflect positively on City. As long as no defamatory claims led to legal battles, he was indifferent to speculative articles disguised as journalism.

Once he finished with the media, Richard made his way to the director’s box, where John was already waiting.

"How’s the attendance?" he asked.

An expectant crowd of over 29,000—the highest third-tier attendance in over five years—filled the stands, each fan eagerly anticipating the debut of the young Brazilian Richard had personally brought over from South America.

The energy in the stadium was palpable as the minutes counted down to his first appearance on the pitch. Richard, standing in the VIP section, surveyed the scene, knowing this player could be the key to revitalizing the team. The pressure was immense, but the potential was undeniable.

Richard sighed and then turned toward John, shaking his head. "If only Francis Lee had focused on the development of Kippax, we could have expected a jump in attendance—maybe even breaking the 30,000 mark. What a shame."

"Manchester City players," Soon he heard the commentator’s announcement.

His deep voice echoed from a large speaker positioned at the corners of the stands. "Shirt number 1: Shay Given, number 2: Cafu, number 23: Sol Campbell, number 15: Ian Cox, number 3: Roberto Carlos, number 8: Ian Taylor, number 10: Tony Grant, number 7: Steve Lomas, number 22: Paul Lake, number 9: Ronaldo, number 21: Emile Heskey..."

City’s lineup had an average age in their early twenties, featuring players like Ronaldo, Emile Heskey, Roberto Carlos, Cafu, and Shay Given, while Blackpool’s squad was composed of seasoned veterans.

From the outset, Blackpool seized control, launching relentless waves of long balls that put immense pressure on City’s defense.

Sam Allardyce, Blackpool’s current manager, certainly wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to secure three points in the opening match, so his team came out firing on all cylinders from the start.

From the duo of Lee Thorpe and Andy Watson, to midfielders Tony Ellis and Jon Sunderland, and their dependable center-back Mark Bonner, Blackpool showed their experience and determination.

The atmosphere was strangely passive, and John could sense himself growing bored. He leaned toward Richard’s ear and whispered, "Should we give O’Neill a little reminder? This is different from the pre-season, they seem too tense."

The "they" John referred to were the Brazilian lads, who had been dominating every club in the recent pre-season.

Richard’s eyes widened at the sudden suggestion. "What the hell?!" he exclaimed, causing everyone seated around the director’s box to turn and stare at them.

Realizing all eyes were on him, Richard quickly cleared his throat, waved his hand in apology, and leaned closer to John. "What the fuck? What do you mean by reminder? Are Lee the type to meddle on the pitch?"

When Richard first joined Manchester City’s management, he had only ever sat in the director’s box once, during the Swales era, when he first came on board.

After that, as their relationship soured, Richard made it a point never to step foot in the director’s box again. Even more so during the Lee consortium era, he never communicated with them at all.

John, taken aback by Richard’s response, blinked in surprise. "No, no, not at all," he replied, trying to calm the situation. "I just meant maybe a little nudge, you know? Just to make sure they’re staying focused. But I didn’t mean anything more than that."

Seeing John deny it, Richard shook his head.

It’s generally considered bad for an owner to intervene on the pitch or in the day-to-day management of the team. Football clubs operate under a hierarchical structure, with roles clearly defined for the coach, managers, and players.

Owners typically have an overseeing role and should trust the professionals they’ve hired to make decisions related to the team’s performance. Otherwise, it creates unnecessary tension, as public perception suggests that they has no faith in its coaching staff. In some cases, overstepping boundaries could lead to distractions and confusion about who is truly in charge.

Richard had already made up his mind to search for a replacement for John as soon as possible.

This guy... he was dangerous.

Still, he didn’t say a word or even change his expression. Without blinking, he replied, "They haven’t found their rhythm yet. No worries, let them find their own feel for the game. Our defensive line has been surprisingly steady; that’s a good sign—if we can avoid conceding, that’s already a positive outcome."

The combination of Campbell and Cox provided solid aerial defense, and although Cox occasionally surged with overzealousness, Roberto Carlos on the left was there to cover for him. The threats towards the backline remained mere false alarms.

It was just their midfield that was truly lacking. The gaps were evident—too many balls were lost in the middle of the park, and the lack of a creative force left the forwards isolated, struggling to link up effectively. The team’s rhythm was sluggish, and without a central figure to dictate play, it was hard to see any real flow.

Richard knew something had to change there, and soon.

In the 40th minute, with just five minutes remaining before the break, Paul Lake was making a determined run through midfield.

He had just received the ball from Cafu and was looking to control it as he advanced forward, his eyes scanning for options.

He quickly glanced to his right to spot a teammate, but before he could make his move, Blackpool’s Jon Sunderland had already read the play. He was closing in fast, eyes locked onto his every step, anticipating the moment when the ball would be played just ahead of him.

Lake, sensing Sunderland’s approach, decided to take a risk. The past three seasons had been a nightmare for him.

First, a serious knee injury that threatened to derail his career, followed by a bitter dispute with the club owner, Peter Swales, who had accused him of faking the injury to avoid playing and wasting the club’s money.

Thankfully, during that difficult period, Richard Maddox, one of City’s directors, had stepped in and helped speed up his recovery. (Chapter 55: Richard, with his connections, helped Paul Lake recover from his cruciate ligament injury)

The injury had deeply affected his confidence, and under Alan Ball’s management, he found himself sidelined for much of the next two season, leaving him largely forgotten.

’This is my chance to prove myself again, to show everyone what kind of player I am,’ Paul told himself, deciding now was the time to make a statement.

As Sunderland closed in, Lake knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip by. Despite not feeling as sharp as before, he was determined to push through the discomfort and make something happen.

Sunderland lunged forward, eyes locked on the ball, anticipating a tackle.

Lake, seeing this, prepared to strike the ball with his right foot, making it seem like he was about to play it in that direction.

"Now!" Lake shifted his weight slightly to the left in a feint, quickly dragging the ball to the right.

It was a perfect fake kick.

The commentators were in awe, "What a brilliant piece of skill from Paul Lake!" one of them exclaimed. "A masterclass in deception! Sunderland completely buys the feint, and Lake is through!"

The other commentator chimed in, "You can see the confidence returning to him. After all those setbacks, he’s showing his class tonight. This could be the spark he’s needed."

The crowd reacted immediately, a collective gasp as they saw Lake sidestep Sunderland and charge forward.

Sunderland was fooled, and Lake was able to slip past him. His heart raced with adrenaline, and for a brief moment, he was consumed by the excitement of breaking through the defense.

But just as he was about to push the ball forward and leave Sunderland behind, he was reminded that football wasn’t just a one-on-one game—it was 11v11.

Tony Ellis, Sunderland’s partner in Blackpool’s midfield, saw his teammate beaten and decided to abandon his position. He charged in from the other side, extending his boot just as Lake tried to push the ball forward.

Clean but forceful connection.

Ellis’s foot collided with Lake’s right leg just above the ankle with a sharp thud.

The impact was instant, and Lake immediately felt a surge of pain. The familiar sting flooded his senses.

"AAAAAAARRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!"