Late at night, there were not many customers in Sander's bar. Aldrich, who had occupied the pool table all night, also put down their glasses, sat directly on the pool table, smoked and chatted, talking about a lot of silly things from their childhood.
Everyone laughed at each other so much that tears welled up in their eyes.
"How can you become a head coach? Now that your family is so rich, why don't you just hire a head coach?"
Brady blew out a puff of smoke and looked at Aldridge sitting opposite him with a half-smile.
"Oh, hasn't he always wanted to be a head coach since he was a kid? Isn't that strange?"
Yiwen sat next to Aldrich, her pretty little face was rosy, and her lips were curled up in a charming and naive manner.
"How is that the same? His family couldn't afford to buy a team when he was a kid."
Fred said matter-of-factly.
Aldridge did not answer this question. Everyone has his own ambitions. He sometimes cannot understand other people's choices, such as in football circles, Cantona's retirement, Beckham's early departure from mainstream leagues, and the fall of countless young and famous stars.
Wait, is it just money? It's hard to have a simple explanation to understand all the reasons.
Therefore, Aldrich is not going to explain anything. When he has no money, he wants to get rich. When he really has money and has enough food and clothing, those illusory ideals and ambitions will echo in his mind. If you are poor, you can be alone, and if you are rich, you can be both.
In the world, Aldrich's retreat is to be a rich kid waiting to die, but before he fails in life, he always has to try.
When the bar was about to close, six or seven middle-aged men suddenly opened the bar door. After they walked in, they sat directly in front of the bar. Sander waved the guys away, and he personally took out the cups and held them one by one.
Pour them drinks.
Aldrich accidentally saw the group of people sitting in front of the bar, all of whom had angry faces, but they didn't care, drinking, talking and laughing, and recounting their previous deeds without restraint.
After listening for a while, Aldridge probably understood. After the Millwall game in the afternoon, they blocked a few lone Derby County fans in an alley and beat them up.
The man sitting in the middle is obviously their leader. He is dressed in ordinary clothes and not tall, but his appearance gives people a feminine and ruthless look. His eyes stare at people as if they are cold.
After drinking and smoking, the group was in high spirits. They got up and walked towards the pool table. The leader saw Brady and the others and said hello casually.
It's as casual as an elder meeting a junior.
Aldrich jumped off the pool table, picked up his suit and walked out, followed by the other friends.
As he passed by the group, Aldrich was suddenly grabbed by the arm. It was the leader of the group.
He looked at Aldrich up and down, and Aldrich pulled his arm away. The other party smiled in surprise: "Oh, boy, don't get excited. You seem to be Aldrich Hall, right?"
?”
Aldrich replied coldly: "I am Aldrich. If you touch me again, I will smash your hands."
The middle-aged strong man raised his hands in an exaggerated manner and laughed at his friend beside him: "Oh, he is so nervous, as if we are going to rape him, hahaha."
None of the friends around him expected Aldrich to have such a big reaction, and even made threatening remarks.
"Hey, Pork, forget it."
Brady saw that the atmosphere had become tense, especially Aldrich's cold face and his unkind eyes staring at the man opposite him. It seemed that there might be some unpleasant conflict, so he stood up and wanted to mediate.
Aldridge stretched out his hand to stop Brady. He knew who the man across from him was.
Organizer of the BushWackers, Poker-Graer.
Aldrich doesn't have any favorable impressions of football hooligans, or in other words, no one with a normal and stable life wants to have anything to do with hooligans.
Porker lit a cigarette and smiled casually, and said to Aldridge: "Hey, boy, I'm glad you took over Millwall. You've done a good job recently, keep up the good work."
He really looked like an elder encouraging the younger ones. Aldrich felt disgusted and sneered: "If you would stop committing crimes outside under the banner of Millwall, I think I would be happier."
Hearing Aldrich's words, Pock's face turned cold and said lightly: "Aldrich, I am not your enemy. Why are you so hostile to me when we first met? My father is Milvo
I am a football fan since I was a kid. How old are you? But after taking over the club for three months, don’t be too self-righteous."
Aldridge was too lazy to argue with him and sneered: "I tell you, Millwall Club is mine now. I can make it soar into the sky or disappear from London, but that is all my wish. You
?Who do you think you are? I don’t care if you are a fan or not, but if you slander Millwall and cause my property to suffer losses, I will not only get you out of East London, I can even send you to jail with my own hands, Pork-
Greer, who do you think you are talking to? It would be easier for the Hall family to crush you to death than to crush an ant! Not only are we rich, but we have lived here before. Can you afford to be a street gangster? Clown
!”
After speaking, Aldrich put the suit on his shoulders and turned to leave.
Poker-Grell, who was nearly forty years old, and his companions all had dumbfounded expressions.
Pork reflexively grabbed Aldrich's arm, not intending to let him leave just like that.
But the next second.
Aldrich grabbed the wine bottle on the table next to him and hit Poke on the head with his backhand!
"Fu-ck-You! Are you deaf? Can't you hear what I just said? You scumbag, don't dirty my clothes!"
Aldrich not only smashed a wine bottle directly on Pock's head, but also grabbed his neck with one hand and pulled him in front of him. The two were less than ten centimeters apart. Aldrich's handsome
His face was completely cold, and he roared in an aggressive tone.
Poke was hit hard on the head by the bottle, his thinking was a little confused, and he was stunned for a moment.
And Aldrich was roaring like a majestic beast right in front of him.
"Pork-Grel! Fu-ck! Do you have any fucking brain? You have children, you have a wife, you can be a vagrant, but do you want your wife to be unemployed? Do you want the police to work day and night?
Are you staring at me? Do you think I'm a gangster? Do you dare to hit me back? As long as you dare, I will make you bankrupt if you go to court! Or do you want to do something dirty to me? Fu-ck! Hall
The family will retaliate against your whole family! Pork-Grel, you are finished, your life is finished, but you, your mother, think about your family and your children, don't let them be poor, don't let you
Your child will become the scum of society just like you! Listen to me, don’t let me see you again! Get as far away from me as you can.”
After Aldrich finished his rant, his expression suddenly calmed down. He gently let go of Pork, who had a dull look on his face, and then slowly and slowly straightened Poker's wrinkled T-shirt, then turned and walked towards the door of the bar.
The people behind Pok came up, but Pok stretched out his hands to block them. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, with a complicated look on his face.
As Aldrich said, football hooligans like them would not dare to challenge those wealthy families.
Not to mention that they only have one pair of fists, rich and powerful people can crucify them through formal legal channels.
Brady, Fred, Ivan and others opened their mouths slightly and stared at Aldrich's display of power just now. They had never seen Aldrich so powerful.
Who is Poke?
That was a tough guy who led the BushWackers gang to beat him up!
Aldrich actually hit the opponent on the head with a wine bottle!
When Brady followed Aldridge out of the bar in a daze, he didn't know what was going on in his mind. Was he wondering whether Poke's head was strong enough? Or was the bottle too fragile?
Anyway, the opponent’s head didn’t bleed…
Under the dim moonlight, Aldrich hooked his suit collar behind his back with one hand and put it on his shoulder, holding a cigarette in the other hand. He walked toward the eastern suburbs with a heavy heart. Yiwen followed him with his hands behind his back, and his big eyes glanced at him from time to time.
His back.
Aldridge felt very helpless. It is an indisputable fact that English football clubs rely on communities. The future Wimbledon is a typical example. The team moved out of the original community, and the fans did not follow them to death, but instead established
Found a new team: AFC Wimbledon, even if it starts again from the seventh tier.
Since the mid-1980s, Mrs. Thatcher ordered a crackdown on football hooligans to clean up the football environment. In the past ten years, the results have been very obvious.
However, due to the league level Millwall is in, the BushWackers have a chance to survive.
The crackdown on football hooligans is also carried out based on the league level, especially after the establishment of the Premier League. For the sake of commercial interests, this corporate league naturally does not want football hooligans to destroy the brand value of the Premier League. However, there are only so many police in the UK, and
Matches in the UK are concentrated on weekends, and more than 80% of the matches are played during the same time period. It is conceivable that on match days, most police forces will be dispatched to maintain the order of Premier League team matches.
Therefore, the first ones to be severely punished are the football hooligan organizations of the Premier League teams, followed by those in the English League One.
But London is a place with many teams. In the Premier League alone, there are many London teams, including Chelsea, Tottenham, Arsenal, West Ham United, Crystal Palace, Queens Park Rangers, and Wimbledon.
London's police force is struggling just to maintain these games, and if there is a game with a derby atmosphere, police forces may have to be deployed from other places to support it. Against this background, Millwall is playing in the English League One.
Even though football hooligans still exist, the London police are unable to do enough.
Suddenly stopped, Aldridge was a little tired. He came to the river embankment and sat down, thinking to himself: He must be promoted to the Premier League next year!
PS: Thanks to "Take off your slippers" for the tip!
