CHAPTER 339: THE SHOCKING NEWS

Manchester City finally broke through in the third round of the league, delivering an emphatic six-goal victory. After the match, Richard O’Neill praised his team’s performance with evident satisfaction.

As the final whistle blew and the celebrations died down, Richard’s attention began shifting away from the pitch—towards the club’s operations. His mind drifted toward a familiar concern: money.

Last season, City earned approximately £6 million from television broadcast revenue, thanks in large part to their League Cup victory. About 70% of that came from the Premier League alone.

This season’s revenue was expected to surpass that by a considerable margin. At first glance, five or six million pounds might not seem exceptional, but according to the Premier League’s broadcasting deal at the time, the average club earned around £3 million.

In other words, City was already punching well above average.

The revenue-sharing model wasn’t entirely equal. Favored big clubs with commercial power. While a portion was distributed equally, other parts were tied to factors such as final league position and number of televised matches.

Manchester City benefited from both their strong league finish and frequent TV coverage. Their broadcasting earnings ranked just behind the top six Premier League clubs—**with the exception of Arsenal.

Arsenal, despite finishing high in the table, had fewer televised matches. Their style of play still hadn’t shaken off its reputation for being dull. Fans often struggled to stay awake in the stands—let alone while watching at home.

This season, the Premier League’s new broadcasting contract would bring in even greater returns. Based on projections and last year’s trends, City was expected to easily surpass £5 million from Premier League broadcasts alone.

Combined with Champions League and domestic cup revenue, they could be looking at well over £15 million—and that was still less than half of the club’s total income, excluding merchandise, sponsorship, and other commercial streams. Of course, compared to Manchester United, City’s revenue was like a drop in the ocean.

With this financial outlook, Richard was already planning ahead. He intended to offer contract extensions and salary increases to key players next summer. While he might not be able to match the Premier League’s highest wage packages, he had no intention of underpaying players who had earned their worth.

"Hmm..." Richard mused, wondering whether injecting more capital into the club might accelerate growth.

The only issue, of course, was that the FA would eventually conduct an audit. When that day came, everything would need to be perfectly accounted for. It might be safe for now—but what about the future?

Transparency needed real income sources.

Relying on actual income kept the business model credible. That meant clubs had to survive on what they earned—sustainable management was the only long-term path. Richard was determined to avoid the path of Manchester City under Sheikh Mansour.

Clubs that grow through hard work and smart business are often more respected by fans than those built on "easy money."

"Debt financing?" Richard murmured, then shook his head. "Nah." He immediately rejected the idea.

Manchester City simply couldn’t operate like Manchester United, relying on debt financing—regardless of the fact that such decisions were ultimately the Glazer family’s responsibility.

After all, taking on over a billion pounds of debt—like Chelsea would a decade later, or Arsenal’s £400 million, or Liverpool’s £200 million—was far beyond what City could realistically sustain. Some of these clubs could absorb the financial pressure due to their size, global appeal, or savvy commercial strategies, while others were simply skilled at spending money recklessly.

It was becoming increasingly clear that City needed to aggressively pursue commercialization and global expansion if they were to compete at the highest level.

In terms of building a team, he had no intention of following other clubs by constantly creating short-term one- or two-year plans and splurging on veteran stars. Instead, he wanted to nurture a self-sufficient club built on solid foundations—something that would undoubtedly come with its own set of challenges.

Richard let out a sigh as the thought crossed his mind. Just as he was about to refocus on the issue at hand, there was a sudden knock on his office door.

He glanced up and was taken aback to see the new City U-17 coach, Steve Walford, who had recently replaced Domenec Torrent after his move to Barcelona. Walford’s face looked completely exhausted.

"What happened?" Richard asked.

For the next fifteen minutes, it was basically Walford rambling while Richard sat quietly, rubbing his temples.

"Alright, Steve," Richard finally said, trying to regain control of the conversation, "no matter what you’re about to say, let’s calm down first and talk it through. I’ll listen to everything—you just need to tell me the core of the issue."

Walford let out a deep sigh, his face clouded with concern.

"It’s that Brazilian kid you brought in," he said.

Richard was taken aback.

’Brazilian? The recent signing? Don’t tell me...’

"Ronaldinho? What’s wrong with him?"

Who else but Ronaldinho, the young Brazilian prodigy Richard had just recruited for Manchester City’s U-17 team?

"He’s too talented," Walford said flatly. "I can’t coach him."

"What?" Richard was stunned. "What do you mean? He doesn’t listen to you?"

Richard was surprised. Based on everything he knew about Ronaldinho, there was no history of him being rebellious. If there were ever any issues with him, they had more to do with partying—not disobedience. From his perspective, players who resist instruction were always difficult to deal with—no matter how talented they were, especially not someone as young as Ronaldinho.

But Walford waved a hand, dismissing the thought. "No, no, it’s not his fault. It’s mine. As a youth coach, my job is to instill team mentality and a collective football philosophy. He’s learning that well, and he’s doing everything we ask. But the thing is—he can do so much more."

He paused, clearly wrestling with how to express it.

"You’ve seen him, right? The way he dribbles, the insight, the creativity—it’s incredible. But when he starts taking on defenders, we don’t have anyone on our coaching team who can actually teach him that. We can’t guide him on the angles to take, how to dribble effectively in different situations, how to string skill moves together in a way that still serves the team."

"And this doesn’t go against our tactical philosophy," he continued. "Football isn’t just about passing and positioning. Dribbling is a fundamental skill—one that will never disappear from the game."

Richard furrowed his brow, trying to fully grasp the weight of Walford’s words. "So what’s the issue? Isn’t it a good thing if we have someone that talented?"

Walford forced a pained smile. "When I first took over the youth team, the players were... well, what you’d expect. Then Ronaldinho arrived, and it completely caught me off guard. His extraordinary talent made me suddenly realize the gap in our coaching structure. As you know, I came from club where the focus isn’t on developing individual skills—it’s about tactics and refining what’s already there. But after reviewing some training footage of our first-team players, I noticed something that might not sit well with our main squad."

"Which is it? What’s going on? Wait." Richard stopped Walford before he could continue. "Let’s hear it now. If there are hidden issues in our team’s development, keeping them to yourself is pointless. Let’s bring in Call Martin and José as well. I’d rather face the problems early than wait until they become painfully obvious."

After O’Neill and Mourinho joined the discussion, it quickly became a three-way conversation.

"Take Georgi Kinkladze, for example," Walford began. "When he played for City, his physical attributes improved, his awareness of team play developed, and his passing and positioning became more mature. But technically—especially in terms of dribbling—he’s barely progressed. His only move was using the inside of his foot to accelerate past defenders—"

"Wait, wait, wait. You’re missing the point—it’s not just about the players, it’s about the culture of training in English football."

In the end, it was Mourinho who finally voiced what he had been holding in.

Mourinho’s concept of dribbling skills isn’t just about a player’s ability to carry the ball and beat defenders; it’s a broader philosophy that includes a player’s feel for the ball, their technical finesse, and their ability to control it under pressure.

It’s easy to understand: players with excellent dribbling ability can use their technique to escape tight spaces, maintain control in crowded areas, and create more options on the ball. They don’t always need to take on defenders directly. With strong dribbling skills, players become more unpredictable and deceptive—giving them a clear edge in one-on-one situations.

However, just as he had experienced during his time at Barcelona, Mourinho found that clubs in England—especially Manchester City after he joined unexpectedly—generally did not provide specific training focused on dribbling. In practice sessions, dribbling is often left to free play: if a player succeeds, it’s celebrated; if they fail, it’s chalked up to a lack of natural talent. Most teams don’t systematically teach dribbling techniques, considering it a waste of time. First, few players are actually given the freedom to dribble in matches, and second, most coaches aren’t willing to spend time evaluating whether a player has potential in that area.

Traditionally, dribbling has not been viewed as a skill that can be developed through structured training. Instead, it’s seen as something largely innate—dependent on natural talent and physical attributes. Players like Garrincha, with his crooked legs, or the short but explosive Maradona, are often cited to show how shorter players tend to possess more agility than taller ones. It’s often accepted as a matter of natural conditions.

Take "Little Flying Man" Overmars, for example. He loves to get to the byline and cross the ball. Once he dribbles past defenders, he can draw the entire backline back, disrupting the opponents’ defensive rhythm.

But when Mourinho emphasizes the importance of dribbling, he isn’t talking about flair for flair’s sake. For him, it’s about unlocking each player’s unique potential—tailoring technical development to enhance their individual qualities, not forcing them into a rigid mold.

Just as the three were deep in conversation, the door to Richard’s office was suddenly knocked hard, and Miss Heysen burst in, gasping for breath.

"Something’s happened!" she said, breathlessly.

The three were definitely taken aback, and before they could ask anything, Miss Heysen dropped the bomb.

"The Princess of Wales has been in an accident!"