<h4>Chapter 37: A Game of Deception</h4>


    From the start of the match, Aldrich stood on the sidelines, hands in his pockets, watching intently. He needed to demonstrate his seriousness about the game.


    The yers were used to Aldrich''s posture, as if they were being observed by a solemn deity. Anyziness or loss of focus would be caught, requiring them to give their all on the field.


    As the game began, neither Millwall nor Middlesbroughunched into an immediate offensive. The ball mostly moved back and forth in their own halves, and the pace of the game was slow, suggesting it wouldn''t be a particrly thrilling match.


    A few minutes in, Aldrich frowned slightly. Millwall''s few attempts at organizing attacks were all thwarted by Middlesbrough''s defense, which had a clear advantage in both numbers and experience.


    Aldrich pondered: Is Middlesbrough ying so conservatively because they''re aiming for a draw?


    He couldn''t help but put himself in Bryan Robson''s shoes. With the cards he had, facing a team like Millwall, known for their strong attack, getting a draw would be a satisfactory oue, especially with a defense-oriented formation.


    Relying solely on the previous strategy of attacking down the nks seemed difficult against Middlesbrough''s defense. Even if Pires or Schneider managed to break past the full-backs and find an opening on the wing, the opponent''s three central defenders could still lock down Millwall''s two forwards in the box.


    Taking advantage of a throw-in opportunity, Aldrich shouted towards the forwards. Seeing them look back, he gestured with his hands—two fingers pointing forward, followed by a separating motion, and then clenching his fists together.


    The four attackers up front nodded towards Aldrich, signaling that they understood what to do next.


    Bryan Robson, standing on the home team''s bench, had a slightly puzzled expression.


    He had a strange feeling: Aldrich had the air of a cunning strategist.


    After the kickoff, Millwall held a slight advantage, though not by much, as the ball was clearly more often at their feet.


    The two forwards, Larsson and Trezeguet, withdrew deeper into midfield. After abination y with Pires in the center, Larsson and Trezeguet made a run into the nks of the penalty area, prompting Middlesbrough''s central defenders to shadow them closely.


    Seeing this, Bryan Robson''s heart sank.


    It was clear that only one central defender, Nigel Pearson, remained in the center of the penalty area.


    Durie White and Steve Weeks had been drawn out by Larsson and Trezeguet!


    Defensive midfielder Robbie Matos hesitated between blocking Nedved''s run and dropping back, while Pires dribbled inside, forcing Pearson to step forward to block. Pires then passed the ball sideways.


    Middlesbrough''s defense saw an unexpected yer in front of their penalty area: Bernd Schneider!


    The two wingers hadbined in the middle. Pearson turned to block Schneider, who, if he advanced with the ball, would be nearly one-on-one with the goalkeeper.


    Just as Pearson turned to chase, Schneider chipped the ball towards the penalty spot. Pearson, sweating profusely, saw the ball sail over his head and noticed a deep blue figure shing past him.


    F-uck!


    Robert Pires!


    The two wingers had seamlessly outyed Middlesbrough''s defense. After the ball was chipped into the box, Pires had only the Middlesbrough goalkeeper, n Miller, to beat.


    Pires didn''t adjust; he struck the ball directly!


    Aldrich watched the y unfold from the sidelines, already envisioning Pires scoring.


    But Pires flubbed it!


    He swung his leg gracefully, but the ball and his foot didn''t connect perfectly, and instead, his shin struck the ball.


    n Miller, having anticipated the shot, dived to his left, assuming Pires would either shoot with power to the left or right. He chose to dive left, to Pires'' right.


    But no one expected the ball to take such a bizarre trajectory.


    Aldrich clutched his head in disbelief, eyes wide open.


    He couldn''t clearly see what was happening inside the box, especially the goalkeeper''s reaction, but surely even an amateur keeper could save this shot?


    But n Miller had already dived to the right, lying on the goal line, eyes bulging as he slowly raised his head to watch the ball, spinning with a strong backspin, drift feather-light into the goal.


    n Miller tried to reach out for the ball, but his body tilted further backward, eventually rolling over, only to clutch the ball tightly after it had crossed the line.


    n Miller furiously threw the ball away from his chest!


    "The ball''s in! Pires has opened the scoring for Millwall with an incredibly bizarre goal! He was at the penalty spot, with a golden opportunity, no one near him, and in a perfect shooting position, but instead of using his foot, he struck the ball with his shin! The ball, with a significant spin, floated gently into Middlesbrough''s. There''s no denying that luck yed a big part in this goal..."


    Pires, who had fallen to the ground after his failed shot, was heartbroken. He had slipped because he didn''t make solid contact with the ball, but as he sat up, he looked at the ball''s trajectory and then at the goalkeeper, utterly stunned.


    He wanted to ask the goalkeeper: I messed up, but what were you doing?


    n Miller, after tumbling to the ground, looked up in shock, just like Pires.


    Ayresome Park was silent at first, then erupted in cheers from the away stands.


    The ball''s in!


    We''re leading!


    Bryan Robson held his head, at a loss for words, cursing his bad luck, then turned to shout instructions at his yers.


    Aldrich, too, experienced a rollercoaster of emotions, from expectation to disappointment, then to surprise, finally unable to suppress a grin.


    Pires got up, rubbing his backside as he was swarmed by his teammates celebrating his goal.


    "Robert, when did you learn to shoot with your shin?"


    "Teach me sometime!"


    Amidstughter, Millwall''s yers began retreating to their half.


    Calming down on the sidelines, Bryan Robson encouraged his yers while making adjustments on the field.


    He realized now that old man Ferguson''s warning not to underestimate Millwall wasn''t mere talk, and it wasn''t just because of Millwall''s formidable forwards. The young coach on the sidelines, nearly twenty years his junior, was undoubtedly a capable strategist.


    No one had expected Millwall''s wingers to work together in the center. Although Millwall''s previous games had shown the wingers participating in central attacks, it was mostly to create space or support the main attack, which still came from the wings or nks. But they had never connected directly like this before.


    This was Premier League-level football.


    In terms of tactics, Premier League teams didn''t just cross from the wings into the box. They often used wide-ranging, precise long passes or intricatebinations around the box as their main strategies. But in the rough-and-tumble world of the First Division, such y was rare due to the limited skill of the yers.


    With a one-goal lead, Aldrich urged his yers to stayposed. Holding this lead would give them the confidence to manage the game more effectively.


    As the match continued, Aldrich had to reassess Middlesbrough.


    Conceding first didn''t break their spirit. Middlesbrough maintained a steady pace, and their defense adapted quickly to Millwall''s attacking movements. The full-backs and central defenders coordinated well, disrupting Millwall''s attempts to prate the box.


    Middlesbrough''s attack, though simple, wasn''t the typical long-ball game seen in the First Division. However, trying to break through Millwall''s defense with ground passes in outnumbered situations seemed overly ambitious.


    Central midfielders Hit and ckmore, along with forward Kavanagh, kept moving around in the attacking third, but as soon as they received the ball, Millwall''s defensive midfielder Makélélé was on them, with support from the retreating midfielders, leading to turnovers.


    After thirty-five minutes, Middlesbrough hadn''t even managed a single shot!


    Even the TVmentators were getting frustrated.


    "Millwall''s defense is outstanding. They always outnumber Middlesbrough in key areas, easily cutting off their attacks. ckmore and Hit have been repeatedly dispossessed by Millwall''s defenders. Clearly, this strategy isn''t working for Middlesbrough. Bryan Robson should at least try long balls. Although John Hendrie is terrible in the air, the twenty-year-old Kavanagh could be a decent target. It''s worth a shot. Who knows, they might get lucky like Pires..."


    Aldrich remained on the sidelines, hands in his pockets, asionally ncing at Bryan Robson.


    The match''s momentum was clearly against Middlesbrough. How could Robson not see it?


    Then why was he still so calm?


    As the first half neared its end, Middlesbrough organized another attack. Defensive midfielder Mastos passed the ball to ckmore, who settled it down and, without waiting for Lucas to close in, sent a long diagonal ball to the left wing. There, the versatile Hit brought the ball down with a beautiful chest trap.


    Makélélé rushed over from the side, while Thuram blocked his path ahead.


    Aldrich stood on the sidelines, right where he could see the action. Suddenly, a red figure shed by, and Aldrich''s heart sank!


    Who was that?


    Aldrich quickly focused on the yer''s number and name, and a sense of foreboding rose within him.


    Middlesbrough''s 25-year-old full-back Curtis Fleming!


    For the


    first time in the entire half, Fleming had joined the attack, leaving the defensive line unguarded!


    In a quick move, Fleming received Hit''s ball and darted forward, while the Millwall yers were too far to intercept.


    Damn!


    Aldrich immediately shouted toward the center-backs.


    Gareth Southgate had already started running diagonally to cover Fleming. Fleming looked up, seeing that Thuram was closing in on Hit. In a split second, he swung his leg and fired a powerful low shot!


    The ball rocketed towards the far corner of the goal, just inside the post, and was out of Kahn''s reach!


    The ball was in the!


    Ayresome Park erupted!


    Bryan Robson clenched his fist in excitement!


    The goal was purely a tactical one. Hit and ckmore were actually decoys, with the real dangering from the full-backs who suddenly joined the attack!


    Aldrich grimaced. After Middlesbrough scored, he calmly signaled his yers to regroup and reorganize.


    One minuteter, the first half ended with a 1-1 score.