Chapter 470: Chapter 470

Naturally, Richard couldn’t just fly to America to handle his personal affairs with TheGlobe.com. That was why having a competent lawyer was essential for a businessman like him.

The simplest solution was to grant Power of Attorney — a common tool for cross-border investors at the time.

Through a document signed in Manchester, Adam Lewis was given full authority to act on Richard’s behalf. From that moment on, every trade, every meeting, and every decision connected to TheGlobe.com would pass through Adam’s hands as he represented Richard in all legal and financial matters in the United States.

It was still Richard’s fortune on paper, but Adam now held the steering wheel. A simple legal document — faxed from Manchester to New York — was all it took to give Adam complete trading authority over Richard’s holdings.

With everything settled, Richard turned his attention back to Manchester City.

Before their upcoming UEFA Cup tie against Chelsea in Monaco, City were first set to face Coventry City at Highfield Road, in Coventry, England.

Standing before the Highfield Road entrance, Richard took a moment to look around. Even if the stadium wasn’t as grand or modern as others across England, he knew it carried history within its walls. Highfield Road had one of the largest playing surfaces in the English leagues and was also the first all-seater stadium in English football.

This ground had seen its share of stories. Richard remembered that the all-seater policy introduced by Jimmy Hill was later abandoned when Leeds United fans tore out several hundred seats after losing 4–0 to Coventry City in 1981, only months after the seats had been installed.

Thanks to that incident, standing areas returned to Highfield Road — but the stadium reverted to all-seater status eleven years later when top-division clubs were required to comply with the Taylor Report, following the Hillsborough disaster of 1989.

Finished reminiscing, Richard stepped through the revolving doors, his bodyguard close behind. He handed his ticket — a crisp VIP pass — to the steward, then walked inside without a word.

The moment he entered, the sound hit him like a wave. Around 45,000 fans had filled the stands, most likely curious to see the recent champions of England and Europe in action.

Looking up at the roaring crowd, Richard couldn’t help but sigh.

Even Coventry, he thought, a lower-table club, has a stadium with a capacity larger than Maine Road.

Maine Road – 32,300Highfield Road – 39,455

However, the size came at a cost. Highfield Road lacked the modern facilities of newer stadiums — one of the key reasons Coventry City would later move to the Ricoh Arena. Not to mention, as Richard had already noticed upon arrival, the parking situation around the stadium was utterly inadequate.

Shaking his head, Richard sank into his seat and watched the match unfold.

O’Neill had already briefed him earlier — the lineup had to be altered after a troubling report from the medical staff.

Ronaldo was ruled out for three months with a knee injury, while Jay-Jay Okocha would be sidelined even longer, at least four months. Losing two of their most creative and technically gifted players was a serious blow, especially so early in the season.

For the away fixture against Coventry City, Manchester City had reverted to a more cautious setup — a 4-4-1-1 formation, sometimes shifting into 4-4-2 depending on the phase of play.

O’Neill’s decision to switch from a 4-4-2 to a 4-4-1-1 wasn’t random — it was born out of tactical necessity.

In the previous matches against Leeds United and Wimbledon, Eto’o was deployed as a winger, but his performances fell below expectations. During the draw against Chelsea, although Eto’o didn’t play, O’Neill noticed something important in training — Eto’o thrived when receiving the ball to his feet, turning quickly, and bulldozing his way forward.

At the same time, Trezeguet was a different kind of striker — a pure finisher who preferred to stay in the box, waiting for service rather than creating chances himself. To balance that difference, O’Neill pushed Eto’o slightly deeper, allowing him to operate between the lines.

From there, Eto’o could drop back when City were under pressure, forming a compact midfield five, and then burst forward on the counter once possession was regained.

The change was subtle on paper, but on the pitch, it transformed the way City moved.

Coventry’s plan was straightforward: defend deep and counterattack. They had stunned Chelsea in their opening game with a surprise win, only to suffer an unlucky defeat to Nottingham Forest the following week.

Now facing a City side that had drawn their last two matches, Coventry approached the game with a blend of confidence and restraint — eager to prove a point but unwilling to take unnecessary risks.

It was a smart strategy, considering City’s weakened attack. With Ronaldo and Okocha both out, and Zidane still regaining full match fitness after a minor injury, the team’s creative spark was clearly diminished.

The midfield pairing of Frank Lampard and Dejan Stanković worked tirelessly — Stanković pushing forward as the deep-lying playmaker, while Lampard shielded the backline. On the flanks, Thierry Henry and Robert Pires tried to stretch the game, feeding David Trezeguet up front and Samuel Eto’o behind as shadow striker.

Despite their technical superiority, City struggled to break through Coventry’s compact defense. Every pass forward seemed to meet a wall of blue shirts, and the rhythm of their attacks kept stalling in the final third.

As the minutes ticked away, frustration grew. Coventry’s goalkeeper made a string of solid saves, and even Henry’s late introduction couldn’t tip the balance.

When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard still read 0–0. A stalemate.

Convetry City 0 - 0 Manchester City

At the end of the day, while the new tactical setup had shown promise on the training ground, the reality on match day was far less convincing. Trialing a new formation and tactical system always came at a price. The players were still adjusting to new roles, new distances, and new passing lanes.

Weak opponents might not expose those flaws — their limited pressure often allowed City to control the ball and mask the underlying issues. But against stronger sides, the cracks would either widen or, in rare cases, be patched temporarily through sheer individual brilliance or motivation.

Richard exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the pitch.

That meant only two wins in their last seven matches.

He frowned slightly, doubt beginning to creep in. For the first time since O’Neill had taken charge, he started to question whether the manager still had control over the team.

Richard didn’t linger long at Highfield Road Stadium. As soon as the final whistle blew, he slipped quietly out of the VIP box There was no need to stay for post-match handshakes or polite conversations — his mind was already back on business.

Moments later, the car was gliding down the damp motorway toward Manchester, headlights cutting through the drizzle. The night was quiet except for the rhythmic hum of the engine.

As was his habit, Richard unfolded a copy of the Evening Standard. He always preferred reading the London papers; they captured the pulse of English football and finance better than any other.

His eyes drifted across the headlines — until one particular story caught his attention.

"Arsenal to Play European Fixtures at Wembley."

The article explained how Arsenal, unable to expand Highbury due to residential zoning restrictions, had reached an agreement to rent Wembley Stadium for their European home matches.

UEFA’s stricter capacity and safety requirements had forced the club’s hand. Highbury, with its elegant old stands and 38,000 capacity, no longer met modern standards for continental competitions.

"What a joke," Richard muttered under his breath.

Most people wouldn’t notice, but he could see it clearly — how David Dein was playing his cards with the FA. Politics in English football had always been subtle, but this move? It was pure calculation.

Highbury, with its modest 38,000-seat capacity, technically met UEFA’s requirements for the Champions League, yet it generated far less revenue than England’s grander arenas. By shifting Arsenal’s European home fixtures to Wembley, the club would double its gate income overnight — and the FA would quietly profit from every rented night under those famous twin towers.

It was a masterstroke: Arsenal gained money and prestige, the FA padded its coffers, and England’s image in European football climbed higher than ever.

Last season had proven just how far they’d come. Arsène Wenger’s side had stunned everyone — edging Manchester United down to third, bringing in crucial UEFA coefficient points for the Premier League. No wonder the FA was happy to accommodate Arsenal’s ambitions; success in Europe meant success for England’s football brand.

Richard folded the newspaper with deliberate care, the ink faintly smudging his fingers. He leaned back against the leather seat, eyes following the city lights streaking past. Outside, the rain came harder now — silver threads racing down the glass as the car sped through the motorway.

Just as Richard was about to drift off in thought, his phone suddenly rang. He glanced down — a message from José Mourinho.

Richard frowned, thumb hovering for a second before opening it.

"Sir Richard, André just sent his CV to Manchester City."

Richard slapped his forehead. ’Of course — how could he forget?’

The moment he arrived at Maine Road, instead of heading straight to the training ground, he had made a quick detour to the Human Resources office to review recent applications.

Manchester City, under Miss Heysen’s management, was expanding rapidly. Recruitment was in full swing — not only for administrative roles like marketing and finance, but also for positions on the football side. Even coaches and scouts from mid-table Premier League and First Division clubs were discreetly submitting their CVs, hoping to jump ship to one of England’s fastest-rising clubs.

And as always, final approval rested with Richard.

He sat down and sifted through the growing stack of resumes until one name caught his eye: André Villas-Boas.

It turned out Villas-Boas had sent his application weeks ago. Apparently, after waiting in silence for a few days, he had reached out to Mourinho for help.

From what Mourinho had told him, André’s journey had begun in a most unusual way. At sixteen, he happened to live in the same apartment building as Bobby Robson, then the manager of Porto.

After a brief conversation, Robson saw something in the boy — curiosity, intelligence, and ambition — and invited him to join Porto’s observation department. That encounter changed his life, and it was also the moment when Mourinho and Villas-Boas first met. Googlᴇ search N0v3l.Fiɾe.net

Under Robson’s guidance, Villas-Boas earned his FA coaching qualification, then his UEFA C Licence in Scotland. By seventeen, he had a B Licence. By nineteen, he’d achieved his A Licence — and not long after, under the mentorship of Jim Fleeting, he secured his UEFA Pro Licence. He even served briefly as technical director of the British Virgin Islands national team before turning twenty-one.

Reading the application, Richard liked Villas-Boas’s profile.

Imagine it — someone who had never played professionally, yet had been immersed in football knowledge since childhood, and managed to become the technical director of a national team at just twenty-one.

Talent and hard work!

This was not luck; it was the result of years of dedication and the deep understanding of football he had built from an early age — the kind of knowledge that opened doors others could only dream of.

Richard pulled Villas-Boas’s résumé from the stack and handed it to the staff. He decided to offer the position to Villas-Boas, closing the recruitment process and notifying all other applicants of the outcome.

Done with Villas-Boas’s application, it would have been careless of Richard not to glance through the other submissions that had arrived at Manchester City. So, he began reviewing another pile — mostly for first-team coach positions.

Page after page, the list seemed routine: seasoned trainers from the lower divisions, academy coaches hoping for a breakthrough, fitness specialists with modest credentials. But then, as he flipped to the next résumé, Richard’s hand froze.

A familiar name leapt off the page — one that would, in time, become renowned across Europe.