Chapter 469: Chapter 469

No one could have imagined that a football club takeover issue would reach the floor of the British Parliament and trigger reactions across legal, academic, and political circles.

The controversy surrounding Rupert Murdoch’s attempted acquisition of Manchester United drew attention from many city law firms, an economics professor at Birkbeck College, and ten other economists, who together helped the Manchester United Independent Supporters’ Association (MUISA) draft a formal submission to the Office of Fair Trading (OFT).

In their submission, it warned that Murdoch’s proposed takeover would be against the public interest. That reference marked the moment when Murdoch’s grand strategy began to unravel. Suddenly, his ambition to become overnight the dominant force in British — if not European — football rested in the hands of a five-member Monopolies and Mergers Commission (MMC) panel made up of independent and respected figures. Unlike Murdoch’s usual network of political allies, this panel was entirely beyond his influence.

As the MMC began taking public evidence from football authorities, rival broadcasters, politicians, and supporters’ groups, BSkyB’s confidence began to evaporate.

Perhaps the most decisive intervention came from the Independent Television Commission (ITC), which declared that it would be impossible to enforce safeguards preventing a sports broadcaster that also owned a football club from abusing its dominant position.

At the same time, Labour MPs hailed the regulatory scrutiny as a safeguard for "the future of the national game," protecting it from the destructive divide between super-rich clubs and the rest.

For football fans, the deal was even more alarming. Rumours spread that club chairman Martin Edwards had not even consulted Alex Ferguson, United’s current manager. Across Britain, fans concluded that a Murdoch-owned Manchester United would be disastrous — further polarising wealth within the game and giving BSkyB excessive power over televised football.

Their fears were confirmed in the MMC’s 254-page report, published that Friday.

The Commission concluded that no practical safeguards could prevent anti-competitive effects. It ruled that Murdoch’s ownership of United would harm British football, deepening inequality and giving BSkyB undue control over broadcasting rights.

With those findings, the government had no choice but to show Murdoch the red card.

Even Prime Minister Tony Blair, despite Murdoch’s political proximity, was powerless in the face of public and institutional opposition. Significantly, the final decision to block the takeover was made without reference to Downing Street, marking a rare and decisive rebuke to one of the most powerful media moguls of the era.

"That’s all," said Adam Lewis, Richard’s current lawyer from Maddox Capital, as he finished briefing him on everything that had unfolded.

Whether this decision would ultimately lead to a divorce between Murdoch and Blair remained to be seen. But one thing was certain: the media tycoon would be incandescent after being thwarted in a British takeover bid for the first time in his career.

The key question lingered: would he blame New Labour?

"More likely, however, Murdoch’s fury would be directed at his own people — at BSkyB’s executives, and at Peter Booth" Richard said.

The ill-judged interview had become a PR disaster. How could you hope to acquire a football club when you don’t even know the players? Murdoch’s inner circle could already sense the storm coming.

"The worst possible outcome for BSkyB, some feared, would be if regulators went further — if the MMC not only blocked the takeover but also ruled that the Premier League could no longer sell broadcasting rights en bloc, potentially declaring BSkyB’s existing £743 million, four-year contract illegal." Thought Adam Lewis.

"But that scenario seems unlikely, right?" Richard asked quietly.

If clubs were suddenly free to sell their own broadcast rights, chaos would follow — a television rights free-for-all that could send costs spiraling out of control. Screening a single crucial Manchester United match could cost £10 million, instead of the current £250,000.

"Whatever it is, the MMC’s ruling was a welcome relief," he finally said.

Rupert Murdoch was not new to Richard. He was the man who owned The Sun, and in the early days of Richard’s involvement with Manchester City, he had repeatedly clashed with the press. The papers had often belittled City, portraying the club as small and insignificant. Then came the "gold digger" scandal, a tabloid storm that many believed had been directed at Richard personally.

Richard wasn’t sure whether Murdoch himself had ever targeted him deliberately, but there was no denying the shift in attention. His recent Champions League triumph had changed everything — suddenly, the media mogul seemed to have turned his gaze toward Manchester United.

"Is there anything else?" Richard then asked.

Since the deal had been blocked by the government, everything seemed to fall into place as it should — aligning perfectly with what he already knew. Everything was as it should be — for the moment.

But then, Lewis’s tone suddenly changed — sharper, heavier than when they had been talking about Murdoch and Manchester United.

The shift made Richard instinctively straighten his back.

Adam Lewis didn’t say a word. He simply reached into his suitcase, pulled out a file, and slid it across the table. The rustle of paper filled the brief silence.

"Read this," Adam said quietly. "You’ll understand what it’s all about." Follow current novels on noⅴelfire.net

Richard took the document, scanning the first page.

Within seconds, his expression changed — his eyes widened in disbelief.

Everyone knew that by the late 1990s, Wall Street had caught a full-blown case of Internet fever. Investors were eager—almost desperate—to throw money at anything ending with ".com," often with little regard for whether those companies had real revenue or even a sustainable business model. And Richard was among the early pioneers who joined that wild, exhilarating ride.

WebGenesis, now known as TheGlobe.com.

’If anyone ever asked which company had the craziest IPO of the dot-com era, most would point to WebGenesis — now known as theGlobe.com.’

’But I never knew they would go this far,’ he said, speechless.

Founded in 1995 by two Cornell students, Stephan Paternot and Todd Krizelman, it was one of the first social networking platforms, a precursor to what Facebook would later become. The pair had parlayed its explosive online popularity — and the frenzy surrounding the new Internet economy — into massive investment deals.

Richard remembered it well: he had provided $200,000 in exchange for a 10% stake in their fledgling company. For two undergraduate students, that kind of money was enormous — life-changing.

No one could have imagined that WebGenesis would achieve such meteoric success barely a year after launching. Even Paternot and Krizelman, once ordinary students juggling classes and code, were now drawing salaries exceeding $100,000 each, along with $500,000 in earnings from preferred share sales.

Of course, Richard’s shares had multiplied many times over. In fact, just a year after the company officially launched as a professional business, Paternot and Krizelman brought so many new ideas that they quickly sought another $15 million in financing through Dancing Bear Investments.

Increased by 7,400% in just one year!

When Richard heard the news, another idea struck him. Without hesitation, he moved through Maddox Capital to acquire another 10% stake in WebGenesis, boosting his total ownership to 20% — paying $20 million and outbidding Dancing Bear Investments in the process!

The market’s mood at the time was electric. The prevailing belief was that the Internet would change everything overnight — that any company bold enough to plant its flag online would eventually strike gold.

By then, Richard held a solid 20% share of the company.

By last year, as the company prepared to go public, both founders felt that the name WebGenesis sounded too old-fashioned and not tech-enthusiastic enough. So, they decided to rename it TheGlobe.com, with "TGLO" as its ticker symbol on NASDAQ.

Richard, being one of the largest shareholders, naturally agreed — and the move proved brilliant. When TheGlobe.com debuted on the NASDAQ, underwritten by Bear Stearns, the shares were priced at $9.

What happened next was one of the wildest single-day stock runs in history.

When trading opened, TheGlobe.com’s stock immediately shot up to $87. Within hours, it touched $97, before closing the day at $63.50. That was a 606% increase from its offering price — the largest first-day gain for any IPO ever, a record that still stands decades later.

In a single day, TheGlobe.com’s market capitalization rocketed to $840 million, despite the company having only about $5 million in total revenue. On paper, both Krizelman and Paternot became multimillionaires, each worth over $100 million at just 24 and 25 years old.

And Richard, who had put in $20 million the year before, briefly saw his stake valued at nearly $168 million.

The frenzy was so intense that TheGlobe.com still holds the record for the largest first-day gain of any IPO in history.

For a brief window after the IPO, Stephan Paternot and Todd Krizelman were celebrated as the faces of the "new economy." They were young, ambitious, and suddenly worth tens of millions of dollars on paper.

"But that spotlight will turn harsh—especially for Paternot, right?" Richard said, his eyes still fixed on the document Alan Lewis had brought.

Just days ago, he’d been certain that TheGlobe.com would become one of the true pioneers of the Internet era, a symbol of the coming millennium. But now, with this document in front of him, that confidence began to waver.

’Early downfall,’ he thought grimly.

He looked up at Alan. "Where did you get this?" Richard finally asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

"I’ve got connections—one of them works with a CNN reporter. I was lucky enough to buy a copy draft before it goes live."

Richard nodded, accepting the explanation, then turned his eyes back to the document.

It was only a few sheets of paper, but on them were several printed images—clearly taken from a video clip. Below each image were lines of text that Richard guessed were transcripts of the conversations captured in the footage.

The scene described was unmistakable.

Cameras had followed Paternot into a Manhattan nightclub, where he was filmed dancing on a table in shiny vinyl pants beside his girlfriend, model Jennifer Medley. Looking straight into the camera, he proclaimed: "Got the girl. Got the money. Now I’m ready to live a disgusting, frivolous life."

Richard could already imagine what would come next.

"Stupid asshole," he muttered under his breath.

He knew exactly what this meant. As the fortunes of many young Internet entrepreneurs exploded overnight, both the public and the media had begun to turn their attention toward these so-called "new economy wunderkinds.

And now, with CNN preparing to air this clip, Richard could already see how it would spread—on television, across the Internet, and all over the rising scene of Silicon Alley.

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

Not only could this hurt TheGlobe.com, but it might also shake confidence in the entire tech sector. Investors, analysts, and the public would start to question the fundamentals of Internet companies. Stories of lavish parties, sky-high burn rates, and reckless spending would soon dominate headlines, eroding what little faith remained in the dot-com boom.

After all, when people invest, they rarely know how their money is actually being used. Who would guess that something could happen—especially with someone like Paternot?

’This will mark the change in the momentum of the dot-com boom,’ Richard thought grimly.

"Adam..." Richard called quietly.

Adam looked up. "What’s wrong?"

"Help me with something."

"Sure. What is it? Are you ready to cash out your stocks?"

Richard shook his head. "Not just that. Help me prepare all my holdings. I need to review everything — every share I own."

Adam frowned, sensing the tension in Richard’s voice. "You think something’s coming?"

Richard exhaled slowly, eyes distant. "Yeah. It’s time to curate everything I have before the crash hits."

Thankfully, it was just the two of them in the room.

Adam Lewis, who had once served as Richard’s early legal advisor before becoming the lawyer of Maddox Capital, had long learned never to underestimate Richard’s instincts.

After all, he had joined the ride too!

When Richard invested, he invested as well. When Richard went all in, so did he.

Now, with Richard preparing to pull out of some of his holdings, the question hung unspoken in the air — would he dare to keep holding his own?

No chance. This was tied directly to his own fortune, his own future. Adam understood the weight immediately.

He straightened, eyes sharp.

"Leave it to me," he said firmly.

The air between them grew still — two men who had once ridden the wave of the dot-com dream, now quietly preparing to get out before the crash.