<h4>Chapter 220: More Champion Moments</h4>


    When Aldrich returned home, it was already past midnight. He stepped inside and casually set his suitcase aside before slowly trudging upstairs, peeling off his clothes along the way.With a satisfied grin on his face, Aldrich sank into therge bed, his mind reying the championship moments time and again, especially the sight of Southgate tearing up with joy as he lifted the trophy.


    This past season has been very difficult for him.The pressure of being scapegoated by English fans had taken a toll, leaving him feeling crushed. His exposure in the media had plummeted as he instinctively shielded himself from public scrutiny, fearing that he would again be questioned about his penalty miss in the 1996 European Championship.


    This season, the steady performance of Southgate had made him a cornerstone of Millwall''s defense. Unlike Stam''s fierce aggression, Southgate exuded amanding presence—He wasn''t merely a workhorse defender; he approached ball-handling with calmness and had an intentional awareness of the bigger picture that suited Millwall''s tactical setup perfectly.


    The young yers clutched their trophies tightly, giddy as if they were children who never wanted to let go...


    Just as Aldrich''s eyes began to grow heavy, the ringing of thendline phone on the nightstand jolted him awake.


    Reluctantly, he reached for the phone and put it to his ear.


    What he heard made him both amused and exasperated.


    "Boss, I can''t sleep..."


    Aldrich nearly yelled into the phone, "Do you have any idea I was just about to fall asleep when you called?"


    "Andrey, let''s chat then. Don''t you have a girlfriend?"


    "No."


    ...


    By noon the next day, Aldrich stilly sprawled across his bed, with his phone right beside him. If he leaned in close enough, he could hear the repeated beeping of the line being disconnected.


    Downstairs, the door swung open, and Mnie, dressed in a breezy summer dress, rushed in. When she found that Aldrich was nowhere on the first floor, she quickly ran upstairs, checking the gym and study before finally pushing open the bedroom door. Her expression shifted to one of bemusement upon seeing him sprawled out on the bed.


    Climbing onto the bed slowly, Mnie straddled him. As she leaned down, Aldrich woke up, still groggy. Mnie nted a kiss on his lips and gleefully eximed, "Congrattions! Champion coach!"


    She hadn''t been able to make it to the Nethends to cheer him on during the match because of a performance, but Aldrich didn''t mind—time had been tight for Millwall.


    Rubbing his eyes, Aldrich noticed Mnie wrinkle her nose at the alcohol smell lingering on him. "Did you really sleep without showering? It''s disgusting. Go wash up!"


    Still feeling out of sorts, Aldrich sat up as Mnie collected clothes from the floor. Turning back to him, she asked, "I tried calling youst night. Your mobile was off, the home phone was busy— I called three times. Were you intentionally ignoring your phone?"


    "Oh no, it wasn''t like that. A yer couldn''t sleep after winning the championship, so he called me to chat. I didn''t even realize we talked for so long."


    "Who was it?"


    "Shevchenko."


    "Oh, you two are quite close. What did you talk about?"


    "Uh, I can''t remember..."


    Aldrich headed into the bathroom, realizing he had long since forgotten what they had discussed. Most likely, it had been mundane topics, probably along the lines of counting sheep to help Shevchenko calm down.


    After his shower, Aldrich came downstairs in just his shorts. Mnie was in the kitchen whipping up some simple food for him. He turned on the TV to check the news.


    "I''m not just emphasizing that Millwall has be the strongest team in Europe; I care more about the team spirit. Look at Shankly and Paisley''s Liverpool. Millwall now shows a united front, passionate yet joyous. When they returned to Londonst night, the yers cheered like kids ying a game. Do you think theye off as arrogant? I don''t think so at all. They are enjoying football and relishing the joy of the game! What do we see from Aldrich Hall? His calmness during the game? That''s just part of it. We should also notice his reaction at the moment his team achieved the extraordinary feat of winning the championship in their first European campaign—he turned to shake hands with Sir Robson. Hall is wild yet graceful, redefining Millwall''s spirit, earning him respect in the coachingmunity."


    The voice of former Liverpool yer n Hansen filled the room, reminiscing about how he had imed the previous season that Manchester United couldn''t win anything with a bunch of kids, hoping Millwall wouldn''t embarrass themselves in front of the bigger teams.


    Aldrich didn''t dislike him because he held his own opinions, not swayed by poprity. He often offered insights that diverged from the mainstream narrative.


    Aldrich watched for a while as the football show continued to praise Millwall''s triumph.


    Mnie appeared with a te of food, handing it to Aldrich before cing several newspapers on the coffee table.


    As he ate, Aldrich looked down at the papers, marveling at the glowing headlines celebrating Millwall''s victory. Many of the covers featured images of the team lifting the trophy, including a shot of Aldrich being hoisted into the air by the yers.


    Mnie sat across from him, grinning widely, which made Aldrich feel her gaze was unusual and made him uneasy.


    "Have you seen enough?"


    "Not enough!"


    "Have I changed a lot in these few days?"


    "No! So I haven''t seen enough."


    "Don''t you have to work today?"


    "I have three days off."


    "Will you workout with meter?"


    Mnie nodded, a smirk ying on her face, seemingly amused.


    After having dinner, Aldrich took a little time to rest, while Mnie took a quick shower in the bathroom. With her hair cut short, she looked more refreshed. When she opened the bedroom door in her ck bikini and didn''t find Aldrich, she felt a little odd.


    When she saw Aldridge jogging in the gym, she pouted, "Is this the workout you''re talking about?"


    Aldrich turned to look at her, couldn''t help but grinned and said, "Yeah, it''s just for exercise!"


    "Why didn''t you make it clear? I even took a shower for this!"


    "What part was confusing? Didn''t you say you had three days off? We''ll save the fun for tonight."


    "Can I hit you?"


    "Then go ahead and try."


    The gym, spacious enough, became a yground for Aldrich and Mnie as they donned their gloves and engaged in their usual workout of boxing.


    ...


    Later that evening, Aldrich drove Mnie back to her parents'' vi in East End for dinner.


    He was still driving the BMW that Arthur had given him, and Mnie looked somewhat displeased.


    "Do you dislike the car I got you?"


    "Not at all; I love it! It''s just too shy. It''s fine for a casual cruise, but I don''t need it for work or short trips, and parking it''s inconvenient too."


    Aldrich spoke truthfully, prompting Mnie to rx.


    Yet, Aldrich''s thoughts lingered deeper; his and Mnie''s rtionship felt like that Lamborghini—an indulgence for rxation, but their time apart had kept them in a perpetual "dating" phase, never progressing further.


    Arriving at his parents'' vi, his mother Amelia and sister-inw were busy preparing dinner. A lengthy table was already set with a hearty spread.


    Andrew hade alone, cradling his three-year-old nephew Bowen as they watched cartoons.


    As soon as Aldrich entered, Andrew held Bowen up, smiling, "Uncle Aldrich, congrattions!"


    Aldrich approached, cing a hand on Andrew''s head, "Thanks!"


    He bent down, cing a kiss on Bowen''s forehead as his nephew tugged at his sleeve, "Can I get a signature from Larsson?"


    Aldrich chuckled, nodding in agreement.


    "Where''s Arthur?"


    "He''s still asleep in his room; I''ll go wake him up!"


    Amelia took a steak out of the oven and ced it on the table before heading upstairs.


    "What happened? Did Arthur party too hard again?"


    Aldrich asked Andrew.


    Andrew shrugged, "Yeah, he barely made it onto the ne this morning. When those old brutes brought him back, he thought he was still in a hotel in Rotterdam, and he gave me twenty pounds as a tip."


    "Haha, funny enough, I didn''t get to see him in the Nethends either."


    Millwall had arrived in Rotterdam early. As the club''s staff, Arthur and the CEO Adam didn''t arrive until match day. They basically acted as spectators, heading straight to the VIP box at the stadium. Aldrich hadn''t even greeted his father before they rushed to leave post-game.


    "Hehe, yesterday he was in a box with Nú?ez from Barcelona. ording to those old-timers, they were living it up in Rotterdam, and Arthur kept hurling insults at Nú?ez, calling him an annoying idiot. Barcelona was clueless; Nú?ez thought that Arthur had the power to influence yer transfers, so he kept probing Arthur about bringing in Larsson. Arthur wasn''t in the mood to chat, but he couldn''t shake off the pestering..."


    Aldrichughed, "So he''s clearly not fond of watching matches from the box."


    At the Lions'' Den Stadium, Arthur was no longer watching the match from the box but sitting in the stands with Puskás and Yvonne. However, since it was the European final, he had to go back to the box as a representative of the club, considering how it affected the club''s image.


    If it were other Premier League club owners or executives, Arthur could easily banter and argue with them for two hours in the box. After all, even if they were caught on camera outside, no one would know what they were really saying.After all, Premier League owners and executives meet every three months, and most of the time they end up shing over interests at the league''s roundtable meetings. They may smile in public, but behind the scenes, they''re not all saints.


    In Europeanpetitions, when Arthur faces executives or owners of clubs outside Ennd, this seemingly reckless guy tries to avoid conflict. In Ennd, there is amon set of unspoken rules that prevent public conflict, but for club owners or executives elsewhere, who knows if they are little firecrackers ready to explode at the slightest push?


    As thrilling as the final had been, Arthur, for those two hours, sat uneasy, tired of Nú?ez''s relentless banter.


    After realizing he had forgotten something important yesterday, Aldrich''s expression changed.


    "Why do you look puzzled?"


    Andrew asked, perplexed.


    "I think I missed something yesterday."


    "C''mon, was it the post-match press conference? UEFA sent a warning, but since Millwall has another final tomorrow, they''ve epted your absence this time. But they expect an advance notice next time. What kind of nonsense is it to leave reporters hanging while you fly off?"


    Aldrich pped his forehead, sighing, "You''re right, I lost track of everything with my excitement."


    "Oh, Aldrich,e over here and let me kiss you!"


    Arthur, dressed in pajamas, came down halfway and, seeing Aldrich, rushed toward him with his messy hair.


    But before he could get too far, he tripped and fell onto the living room carpet.


    "Grandpa!"


    "Oh my God!"


    Bowen and Amelia eximed in unison.


    Aldrich and Andrew hurried over to help him up.


    Whether it was the cushioning effect of Arthur''s chubby belly or the soft carpet, he sprang up as if nothing had happened, hugging Aldrich tightly and nting a kiss on his cheek,ughing heartily, "Long live Millwall! We''re European champions! No regrets!"


    "I''d say if you died right now, that''d be the biggest regret!"


    Aldrich smiled as he replied.


    Arthur paused, confused, and asked, "Why?"


    "Because you''d miss out on more championship moments with Millwall."


    "Oh, haha! You''re right! Son, I''m not going anywhere. I n to live to be two hundred years old to see Millwall lift twenty, thirty, a hundred more trophies!"