Henry's Burden

Millwall's defense was packed tight as Manchester United's attacks came crashing in like a tidal wave.

In no time, United had several chances to strike, but every shot aimed at the goal frame was met with Butt's incredible saves, stopping them all in their tracks.

In the 37th minute of the first half, Manchester United earned a corner kick from the left side of the pitch. Beckham stepped up to take the corner, delivering a wickedly curved ball that swung toward the far post. Butt chose to come out for it, jumping and extending his hand to make contact with the bottom of the ball, altering its trajectory. The ball then flew out over the byline.

But Butt collided with Stam, and both fell to the ground. The referee blew his whistle and called a foul on Stam for challenging the goalkeeper, as the small box is the goalkeeper's territory.

After Stam got back on his feet, he noticed Butt clutching his arm, the one he had landed on during their collision, with a look of pain on his face. Stam bent down to check on him before gesturing toward the sideline, signaling for help.

No matter what, he had once played for Millwall, and though he and Aldrich were destined to remain strangers, the camaraderie with former teammates, even if faded over time, should still be honored. In moments like this, on the battlefield of football, a certain level of respect and sportsmanship must be maintained.

Maybe this was just Stam's way of showing that he hadn't meant to hurt Butt. That kind of dirty play was never part of his game.

The unexpected injury had Aldrich springing from his seat. He immediately instructed backup goalkeeper Keller to warm up, his eyes fixed anxiously on the scene by the goal.

With the goalkeeper injured, the match had to be paused.

"Millwall's situation just got worse," the commentator exclaimed. "Already trailing on the scoreboard, their star goalkeeper, Butt, is now injured. Judging by his expression as the medical staff carefully try to move his arm, it's clear he's in severe pain. And yes, the substitution signal has been made. Butt will be replaced, leaving Millwall to deal with United's unrelenting attacks without their first-choice keeper."

After some brief words of encouragement, Aldrich sent Keller onto the pitch. Meanwhile, the medical staff escorted Butt off through the player tunnel.

"Initial diagnosis indicates a possible forearm fracture," the team doctor informed Aldrich. "We'll need further tests to confirm."

Aldrich nodded, instructing the doctor to arrange immediate hospital care for Butt.

Moments later, a thunderous cheer erupted across Old Trafford. Aldrich turned to see United players celebrating near the corner flag. Keller, visibly frustrated, retrieved the ball from the net and kicked it angrily downfield.

"Wow! Millwall's substitute keeper Keller—whether from lack of preparation or sheer nerves—made a glaring error on his goal kick. He sent a half-height ball into no-man's land between Materazzi and Schneider. Ryan Giggs, wearing United's iconic red, intercepted it gleefully. A quick through pass found the onrushing Van Nistelrooy, who calmly slotted it past Keller. 2-0! Manchester United have established a commanding position in the first half!"

Such a demoralizing goal could easily sap a team's morale. On the sidelines, Aldrich gestured for his players to calm down and stay focused, urging them not to panic or lose heart over the deficit.

From the backline, Southgate shouted instructions to his teammates, telling Pirlo to slow the tempo in organizing attacks. Rushing to equalize might only lead to more costly mistakes and further destabilize Keller.

Ferguson, his face flushed with excitement, clapped his hands from the sidelines, urging his players to seize the moment and press on.

In this stadium, Millwall had not only been bold and unruly on more than one occasion, but they had also handed Manchester United a humiliating 6-0 defeat. Every time these two teams met, the Red Devils were driven by a desire to avenge that disgrace. Winning was simply the basic goal—what mattered was scoring as many goals as possible. If they could hit 10, there was no reason to stop at 9.

In the final minutes of the first half, Millwall retreated entirely into defense, unable to muster a single effective counterattack.

When the halftime whistle blew, Aldrich shoved one hand into his pocket and walked toward the tunnel. Red Devil fans along the stands jeered and mocked him relentlessly.

Aldrich paid no mind. After all, this wasn't the first time United had led Millwall—and it wouldn't be the last time Millwall fought back.

Today's situation was more complicated and unfavorable than ever before. As Aldrich entered the locker room, he refrained from naming anyone specifically but still scolded the entire team for their performance in the first half.

Millwall's lack of focus today wasn't just a mental issue, but a fundamental one. At least, through Aldrich's scolding and criticism, he hoped to address this problem.

As for the tactical issues, Millwall's setup was being countered by Manchester United, and that needed to be fixed through adjustments in strategy.

However, making changes to an established tactic or one familiar to the players carried significant risks. Given the momentum Manchester United had shown in the first half, Aldrich was cautious about making adjustments too quickly. The last thing he wanted was for any change to backfire, exposing more vulnerabilities to the opposition.

It was crucial for the team to unite and understand how to approach the second half. Brief instructions wouldn't be enough.

Aldrich pulled out the tactical board, quickly sketching a new formation. He marked changes in players' attacking and defensive positions with dashed and solid lines and outlined the new zones of movement. Speaking quickly, he explained the tactical adjustments, then made sure each player understood before boosting their morale and urging them to prepare for the second half.

"Thierry, stay for a moment."

Henry heard Aldrich's words and glanced at his teammates heading out of the locker room, letting out a soft sigh.

He knew he hadn't played well in this match.

It's common for a player's performance to fluctuate. No one can perform at an 8 out of 10 every game. After reaching a certain level, most players fluctuate between 6 and 9. Worse performances are unlikely to be much lower than that. After all, no one can be the best every match, especially for a forward, where it's hard to score in every game.

But today, Henry wasn't playing at his best, and it seemed his failure to make the Ballon d'Or top three was weighing on him.

He sat down, while Aldrich stood by the tactical board, speaking in a calm tone, "Do you want to talk about the Ballon d'Or?"

Henry was troubled, the Ballon d'Or felt like a curse, constantly looming over his thoughts and heart, impossible to shake off.

He shook his head, "Boss, I promise I'll give it everything in the second half."

Aldrich spoke quietly, "It's not that I expect too much from you, but at your level, players usually bounce back after one or two games. But I think we need to discuss the Ballon d'Or. Do you feel it's unfair?"

Henry let out a bitter laugh and replied, "Should I consider it fair?"

Yes, he felt it was unfair, a natural human response.

He didn't even need to compare himself to Figo, Zidane, or Shevchenko. Both he and Shevchenko were forwards, and comparisons could be easily made. No question about it: his goalscoring efficiency and achievements far outshone Shevchenko's.

But Figo and Zidane were a different matter entirely, and Henry couldn't compare himself to them.

Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of injustice. There were plenty of players who were flashier than him, but professional football wasn't street football. What was the point of flashy tricks?

He agreed with Aldrich's belief from years ago: the best players are those who contribute to the team.

Though he didn't score all the goals for Millwall, could they have won the treble without him? That's a hypothetical, but the truth was that he was irreplaceable. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a world-record transfer bid for him that summer.

Aldrich moved in front of him, looking down at Henry, who had an expression that almost seemed childishly stubborn. He spoke softly, "Do you want to hear my thoughts?"

Henry looked up at Aldrich, surprised. "Do you also think I don't deserve the award?"

Aldrich said, "I want you to win, but that doesn't mean winning is a confirmation or rejection. The Ballon d'Or is chosen by people, not machines. Humans are influenced by their subjective views, and there's no way to be completely objective. You need to know, before this, you were nominated for the Ballon d'Or as a winger, but this year, it's as a forward. Your role has changed, and people have seen a brand-new Henry. But you've only played as a center forward for a season, and you're still very young. You lost to Figo and Zidane for a simple reason: their popularity base is much stronger than yours. When you were still a rookie, they were already in the running for the Ballon d'Or and had garnered much more attention and support."

Aldrich's words were half-true. From the result, it really was about popularity, but the objective truth was that there was severe vote splitting within Millwall. If Henry had been the sole hot candidate, his vote percentage would have easily surpassed that of Figo and Zidane combined.

Henry lowered his head again and sighed, "Then I'll never have a chance."

Aldrich raised his chin slightly, speaking in a calm but meaningful way, "If you want the Ballon d'Or, it's not that difficult. Just make the whole football world focus on you. Get everyone to look at you, and when the time comes for the voters to make their choice, your name should be the first they think of. They should feel that if they don't put you at the top, they won't be able to explain it to themselves. And if you can meet those rivals on the field and beat them—well, that would make your case even stronger. When Henrik won the Ballon d'Or, it was because he helped us directly defeat Barcelona, outperformed Ronaldo on the field, and led us to a treble-winning season."

When Larsson won the Ballon d'Or against Ronaldo, it was extremely close. The situation back then was completely different from now. At that time, Millwall relied heavily on Larsson, while Shevchenko and Trezeguet were still emerging stars. Larsson had the most goals in Europe that year, and Millwall's dazzling attacking football shook European football to its core.

Henry closed his eyes, his expression growing colder.

Make all of Europe focus on him?

Yes! That was it!

He should do that—make it impossible for anyone to ignore him. No need to compare him to other players or argue about who is better.

What's there to argue?

If there has to be an argument, then he would be the one to end it.

"Boss, thanks, I get it."

Henry stood up and walked out, while Aldrich patted his shoulder and stepped out of the locker room after him.

Aldrich didn't mind discussing personal honors with players because there was a premise: without an excellent team, personal honors are meaningless. On top of improving the team, personal honors represent a player's ambition, or to put it more diplomatically: their ambition to succeed.

It's this kind of ambition that drives players to perform at their best.