Football Dynasty-Chapter 63: City Internal Turmoil

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Chapter 63 - City Internal Turmoil

There weren't many notable transfers during the 1992/1993 season, but before Richard closed his book, another transfer occurred in the final moments: Zidane moved from Cannes to Bordeaux. Richard personally went to France to facilitate the transfer.

Not only that, the new Premier League sponsorship deals offered by Bass Breweries and Ford Motor Company were rejected, leading Richard to place a £10 million bid, making Maddox Capital the first sponsor of the league

After returning from France, Richard soon read through the details of the new Premier League clubs but found his attention drawn to one team—Manchester United.

Cantona left Leeds for Manchester United for £1 million. Another interesting aspect was the presence of Gary Neville, 17-year-old defender, David Beckham, and 17-year-old Nicky Butt in the United squad.

The day that was eagerly awaited has arrived finally.

The new FA Premier League began.

The first goal was scored by Sheffield United striker Brian Deane in the fifth minute of a 2–1 home win over Manchester United.

Alan Shearer began his Blackburn Rovers career with two goals against Crystal Palace in a 3–3 draw at Selhurst Park.

Sky Sports broadcast their first live Premier League game, where Teddy Sheringham scored the only goal as Nottingham Forest beat Liverpool at the City Ground.

In Division One, Bristol City and Portsmouth drew 3–3 in a thrilling match at Ashton Gate, with Andy Cole scoring for Bristol City.

By the time September came around, Alan Shearer scored his tenth Premier League goal for Blackburn Rovers in his tenth appearance in a 2–0 defeat of Oldham Athletic at Ewood Park.

Manchester City, however, was full of misery during this time.

Let's not even discuss their performance on the pitch. In the previous season, Paul Lake suffered a severe knee injury, which turned out to be a torn ligament.

Richard personally visited him to offer encouragement as both of them had come to a halt due to injury.

Lake made a last-ditch attempt to save his career with a trip to LA to see the number one expert on cruciate ligament repairs. However, his efforts didn't receive a positive response from the current City chairman, Peter Swales.

Richard knew about this because Lake had reached out to him, aware of his personal retirement due to an injury, just like him. With this information, Richard formulated a plan, knowing that his numerous connections would come in handy.

Soon, everyone could see it in the newspapers and on various media outlets.

The Official Magazine of Manchester City wrote in their "City" column: "City is unwilling to spend a single penny on the player's treatment."

Mirror Sport wrote, "Swales saw Paul Lake's injury as both an irritant and an embarrassment. He gave the distinct impression that his own player was the failure, and that my ongoing knee problem was somehow his fault and nobody else's."

The Sun, even more radical in writing the news, brought in a former City specialist doctor, now acting as their whistleblower.

Paul Lake then appeared for an interview and said, "Chairman Swales wasn't exactly cock-a-hoop about the trip, loath to foot the bill, and reluctant to admit any culpability for my predicament... Even Withington and Wythenshawe Hospital admitted they could not treat me."

On the eve of the trip to LA, Lake, without Richard's instruction, stoked the fires further in an interview published in The Sunday People. He claimed the club was treating him like a piece of meat left to hang in an abattoir.

BANG!

The chair of Chairman Peter Swales went sprawling to the ground as he gasped.

In front of him stood Vice Chairman Sydney Rose, the NHS consultant surgeon from Withington and Wythenshawe Hospital, who crumpled the newspaper. "Who dares to drag my hospital into this?!!"

He then rushed forward and grabbed Swales by the collar. "How could you let this happen..?!!"

That very same night, Richard received a phone call from Miss Heysen, the senior secretary at Manchester City, whom he had first met when he came to Maine Road.

"You mean they really fought?"

"Yes, I heard it myself..." she replied.

After listening to her explanation, Richard thanked her and thought for a moment before grabbing his Porsche keys and deciding to drive to Withington and Wythenshawe Hospital himself.

When he arrived, he found himself at a loss for words.

A bruised face. Swollen eyes. Cuts. The man sitting before him was barely recognizable as Manchester City's vice chairman, Sidney Rose.

Sidney glanced up, recognizing Richard immediately. With a tired wave of his hand, he muttered, "Take it. Give me your best price."

He exhaled heavily, adjusting himself and trying to cover his battered face. "Let me tell you—another consortium is still in the bid for Manchester City. So if you want it, you better offer something good."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Which consortium?"

Sidney grumbled with a shrug, as if resigned to the situation. "Francis Lee's consortium."

"Francis Lee?" Richard was taken aback.

The name was far from unfamiliar. Francis Lee had once been a director of Manchester City, but more importantly, he had played for the club between 1967 and 1974, winning multiple major trophies, including the 1969 FA Cup, the 1970 League Cup, and the 1970 Cup Winners' Cup.

"Where did he get his money from? Do you know who he's been in contact with?" Richard asked, keeping his voice neutral.

"His paper and horse racing business has been successful. You better move fast if you want to take control," Sidney muttered before pausing for a moment and giving a hint. "If I knew all of this, then probably all the members have already been contacted. They're only waiting for you now to offer a better price."

"What about Swales? How's the situation inside the club? It's been a while since I was last there," Richard asked.

At the mention of Swales' name, Sidney—already bruised and swollen—somehow managed to look even worse. His expression twisted with anger and resentment, making him seem even less human.

"That bastard," Sidney gritted his teeth before sighing and looking toward Richard. "I can't give you the details, but one thing's for sure—the club can't be saved."

'Meaning it's really bad,' Richard thought, nodding before finalizing the transaction.

Sidney Rose 43 shares (2.09%) → Richard Maddox

Richard's next meeting was with John Humphreys, the Vice President and Managing Director of the family-owned sportswear manufacturer, Umbro.

As he drove his Porsche through the dimly lit streets, the radio crackled with news reports:

"A week ago, the UK's leading telecommunications manufacturer, GEC, announced 750 job cuts, citing redundancies. This brings the total job losses across the UK this month to over 4,000 as the nation's recession deepens."

"The Bank of Credit and Commerce International has officially gone into liquidation."

"Hopes for an economic recovery have been dashed as government figures reveal a 0.3% decline in GDP for the final quarter—marking six consecutive quarters of contraction. While there are slight signs of growth, they remain too weak to declare the recession over."

SCREEECH!

The sharp sound of tires skidding against the asphalt cut through the night as Richard arrived in Cheadle, Greater Manchester. It was already late, but thanks to his earlier call, the building's lights were still on, casting a dim glow over the quiet surroundings.

After a brief conversation with the night security guard, Richard was escorted to the meeting room, where John Humphreys was already waiting for him.

When Richard came over, a bleak smile appeared on John's face. "Richard, what a good move!"

Using the recession and the city's turmoil to buy up shares—given the current situation, he had no choice. Heck, he even suspected that the conflict between Swales and Rose had been orchestrated by Richard himself!

"How is the company now?" Richard asked instead.

Hearing this, John thought Richard was teasing him, but seeing no expression on his face, he could only smile wryly. He shook his head, unwilling to talk about it.

"Fine then, sell me your shares," Richard said directly.

"Haha!" Vince laughed out loud and said, "That will depend on your performance!"

Richard didn't have much cash on hand right now.

Originally, he had £229 million, plus a £71 million loan from Barclays and Lloyds, bringing his total liquid capital to £300 million.

Philip Harris from Lloyds had already informed him that the Grade I listed Midland Grand Hotel would be priced between £140 and £180 million—though that figure only accounted for the hotel itself, with additional costs still unclear. However, Richard had already planned that if he acquired the hotel, he would rename it the St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel London.

Next on the list was the Exmouth Market Wilmington Square Garden apartments, consisting of three buildings in the west, east, and north. Each was priced at £20 million, totaling £60 million. This is the place where he planned to build a home for his family, as well as some swanky apartments. Time to play landlord.

Finally, in Mayfair, Richard had two assets: the Britannia Inter-Continental London and unused land in Blackburne's Mews.

The Britannia Inter-Continental London had been involved in a scandal when an agent was poisoned to death in the hotel bar. Richard planned to demolish the entire building and construct a new one, which would cost at least £100 million. He had already decided on a new name for the hotel: The Biltmore Mayfair.

As for the unused land in Blackburne's Mews, hmm, perhaps Maddox Capital's new office would be the perfect addition here.

"But for Mayfair, it can be postponed," Richard made a quick judgment. There was no need to rush.

He had a clear reason for acquiring these expensive properties. He wanted to capitalize on the recession while the property market was at its lowest. Once the economy rebounded, he was confident their values would soar.

'Not to mention, George Soros is set to break the Bank of England this year—I just don't know exactly when.'

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When Soros breaks the Bank of England, the pound will automatically plummet. If the government doesn't intervene, the UK could face an immediate financial crisis or even bankruptcy. In such a situation, the government will desperately need cash.

And where will they get it? By selling off assets.

This is why he is confident they will sell the Grade I listed Midland Grand Hotel. In fact, he firmly believes he can slash the price. However, this still won't leave him with much cash in hand, so he needs to be careful.

Other than property, his other top priority was the dot-com boom of the 1990s—a period when tech companies skyrocketed in value, only for many to crash in the early 2000s.

It was a goldmine, a time when countless companies rose to prominence overnight, only to collapse just as quickly. And he knew he could make a fortune from it.

Back to the negotiation scene.

Richard didn't rush to make an offer. Instead, he started with a question. "I heard Umbro partnered with Eric's Sports Shop this year?"

John frowned but didn't deny it—after all, it was public knowledge. To combat the recession, he had teamed up with Eric Alexander's sports shop. "That's right. Why do you ask?"

Richard leaned in slightly. "You currently hold about 46 shares, worth roughly £180,000, correct?" He let the number hang in the air before continuing, "If you can convince Eric to sell his shares to me as well, I promise to offer you a price beyond your expectations. You know how much I made from the last World Cup, don't you?"

John Humphreys was immediately tempted. Umbro was in serious need of cash, and Richard's words had struck the right chord.

"Wait here. I'll make a call," he said, standing up without hesitation and leaving Richard alone with his warm tea.

Eric Alexander could be considered a legendary figure at Manchester City.

In the year his father passed away and he became the club's chairman, he thought managing the team would be an easy task—after all, he was a former football player himself. So, he spent his money buying a sports shop in Rusholme and an advertising firm in Manchester.

Never did he think that the one to betray him wouldn't be the club or football itself, but his beloved country. The recession, the struggling economy, and poor sales—Eric cursed the current government for it all.

Eric, upon hearing Richard's proposal, finally made an appearance. He hurriedly got out of bed and rushed straight to Cheadle, where Umbro's headquarters were located.

When Richard saw him, he was taken aback. The man looked rough—his hair was a mess, his shirt was half-tucked, and the dark circles under his eyes could rival the depths of the Mariana Trench.

'Why does everyone look like they've just survived a war? Just how bad is the situation to leave them like this?' Richard wondered.

Eric didn't say a word. The moment he arrived, he immediately grabbed the warm tea in front of him and downed it like a man stranded in the desert who had just found an oasis.

"Aaah," he sighed in relief, placing the cup back on the table. Then, finally, he turned to John Humphreys with an exasperated look.

"John, seriously? You too? With something this big happening, how could you not notify me sooner? Look at how late you finally decided to tell me!"

"Hmm," Richard fell into deep thought.

The Eric Alexander standing before him... How to put it? He seemed... more mature?

In the past, Eric had poured almost all his money into Manchester City without a second thought, as if the club were his lifeblood. But now? He no longer seemed like someone willing to throw everything into the club's pot.

Just the fact that he was willing to come here without properly dressing already showed that he was open to listening to any offer.

Only after some small talk did Eric turn toward Richard. "So," he said, rubbing his face tiredly, "what's this about?"