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The Rise of Millwal

"No one likes us, it doesn't matter!" "It doesn't matter if everyone likes us!" Aldridge, possessed by time and space, never imagined that one day he would become the boss of the notorious Millwall in England. The Edwards family gave Ferguson seven years to finally recreate the dynasty of the Busby Boys. After Graham's glory, the arsenal was looking for the next Chapman. The professor who was fired for the first time left for Japan, always waiting for the call from Europe. Liverpool, which has won the Champions League four times in seven years, still lives in the shadow of Manchester United. White Hart Lane is gradually becoming ordinary, Stamford Bridge is dimly blue, Jin Yuan's violent Ben challenges the throne, Keegan trains the gorgeous magpie to soar to the sky! In the summer of 1994, the Millwall Youth Army, led by young coach Aldridge, was about to rewrite the history of a hundred years without a championship. That dark blue of a mad lion is determined to sweep Europe...

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Larsson’s Double Strike

When Larsson's volley sent the ball into the net, the stunning curve of his shot created a visual impact that left the entire crowd in awe, dazzling everyone's eyes! 

After witnessing the goal, Aldrich clasped his head in astonishment and joy, then raised his hands toward the sky, his mouth agape yet speechless.

It was reminiscent of Zidane's unforgettable volley. Setting aside the significance of the match and the setting, witnessing such a goal in the light rain left Aldrich too overwhelmed for words.

Larsson slid on his knees to the sidelines, gliding across the grass with a proud and confident smile, as teammates rushed over, each joining in the knee-slide celebration.

This goal made the crowd forget about the rain and their concerns about the high-stakes match, losing themselves entirely in the celebration.

Wenger maintained a blank expression, yet his heart seemed to plummet endlessly, unable to stop that gnawing fear from surfacing.

Some might later call Larsson's goal a fluke. Indeed, if given ten more chances, he might not score in the same way again.

Even the teams battling relegation in the Premier League manage to score a few stunning, unforgettable goals each season. But those goals don't usually come from well-rehearsed offensive patterns. Most are unpredictable, out-of-nowhere "worldies" that no one sees coming.

For Millwall's well-honed attack system, however, creating spectacular goals is routine. Fans recognize the style and expect the goals; the only difference is whether Larsson scores with a volley or by controlling the ball for a simple shot. To the coach, the process of creating opportunities is what matters; the finishing touch is simply a matter of individual skill.

So, although Wenger wouldn't admit it, he had to face the reality: Millwall's ability to create opportunities is terrifying!

When team synergy reaches a balance with individual ability, Millwall's attacks seem like a relentless flood on the surface but are actually repeatedly threatening. Arsenal may block the first, second, and third attempts, but once their rhythm falters, they risk being torn apart on the counter.

For Wenger, it may have been the most challenging moment since taking over Arsenal, as he racked his brain but couldn't find a way to contain this Millwall.

One simple, effective method would be long balls over the top, avoiding the midfield battle and playing directly behind Millwall's defense. If the forwards were fast enough and passes accurate, this approach could break through, but it requires world-class forwards and passers. Without that, long balls would only cede possession.

Unfortunately, Arsenal lacked these types of players.

Wenger and Aldrich shared similar tactical philosophies, determined to realize their football visions without bowing to reality. Even in adversity, Wenger would not abandon the team's original style, even as he watched Overmars and Pires struggle to unleash their wing counterattacks. For him, certain principles were like dignity and could never be forsaken.

And as for Aldrich, standing on the sidelines, he was wholly merciless!

At this moment, his mind whirled. Arsenal was trailing, and Millwall's usual play could maintain the lead, but that wasn't enough—not nearly enough.

Arsenal wouldn't surrender without a fight; even when cornered, they would resist, bite, and claw.

How might they change things?

While the world marveled at France's first World Cup win and Jacquet's midfield-focused tactics, Wenger's Arsenal won the Premier League by strengthening their wing play.

Aldrich grinned, thinking: "Pires on the left, Overmars on the right."

He extended his hands, closed his eyes, and entered a state of heightened focus.

A raindrop landed on his right hand, prompting him to open his eyes, his grin widening.

He would bet on Overmars.

Aldrich signaled from the sideline, gesturing toward Ronaldinho.

Ronaldinho understood the signal but looked puzzled.

It wasn't that he didn't understand Aldrich's tactical adjustment; he simply wondered, "Why switch back?"

When the game resumed, Arsenal quickened their offense, but as before, the faster they moved, the more errors they made, exposing their anxiety.

Aldrich focused on Overmars, noticing he'd reduced his support for Dixon.

Pires had also lessened his support for Sylvinho. Arsenal had no choice but to attack from the wings, as Vieira and Petit, though versatile, were never central playmakers. They merely connected the middle.

Aldrich made a choice: to target Pires or Overmars. Fate helped him decide.

From this point onward, Millwall concentrated their attacks down Dixon's side. It wasn't just Ronaldinho going one-on-one; Nedvěd and Henry moved over to support him, forcing Arsenal's defensive midfielders and defenders to focus heavily on that side.

Arsenal's formation and defensive setup were completely disrupted, with their right flank under constant threat. Under intense pressure, they were often left with no choice but to clear the ball hurriedly, handing possession straight back to Millwall.

Petit cleared the ball, but not far enough. Makelele stepped in ahead of Bergkamp, flicking it forward, and Nedved passed it back to Ronaldinho.

Only five seconds after Arsenal had just defended on that side, they saw Ronaldinho with the ball again, reflexively rushing over, but this time he didn't dribble. Instead, he took a quick look and hit a mid-height cross.

Pirlo picked up the ball in a large open space, feigning a long shot, prompting Adams to close him down. But he faked and passed behind Adams.

Larsson broke free, giving Sylvinho no chance. After a touch, he went for a simple push shot.

Unlike his first volley, this shot held no power, just a straight line along the grass towards the near post. Seaman dove, brushing his fingers against it, but it clipped the post and went in.

A goal crafted with precision, leaving Seaman frustrated but helpless.

"Larsson with a brace! Millwall scores again as halftime approaches, and Arsenal cannot withstand the relentless attack!"

"Millwall, going up against Arsenal, has managed to sustain an intense offensive drive, putting immense pressure on their opponents. Petit's clearance—maybe it's the wet conditions, or maybe he just lost his composure—who's to say? But Millwall's players have shown impressive calm under pressure. Ronaldinho's cross into the middle, Pirlo's assist to Larsson… this is the mark of world-class players!"

At halftime, Wenger looked slightly pale as he entered the players' tunnel first. Perhaps he found the break too short.

Arsenal down by two as the second half kicks off, and Wenger glances up, taken aback as he notices Millwall's positioning. He throws a quick look over to Aldrich on the sidelines—what's the plan here?

Is Millwall actually shifting into defense mode?

Looks like it! Their defensive line has pulled back a solid fifteen yards. You can see it from how they're set up—no longer pushing for a full-on assault.

Two goals—is that enough to keep 'em safe?

Based on the first half, Arsenal didn't have much of a chance.

With Millwall's upcoming Champions League away match three days later, conserving energy seemed reasonable.

Arsenal had a home Champions League game, and at this point, thoughts of it wouldn't even cross the players' minds!

This is a London derby, perhaps without the venom of the rivalry with Tottenham. Yet, with Arsenal's title two seasons back and Millwall's two championships in the last three seasons, the significance of this fixture has only grown. The attention, the stakes, and the impact on the league standings have all risen considerably.

A loss here is unthinkable for Arsenal's players. They remember last season's last-minute defeat in this same stadium, and to be overpowered again now would imply Millwall's strength is climbing while Arsenal's wanes—a perception they cannot afford to allow. The hit to morale would be too damaging."

Without any sideline prompts from Wenger, Arsenal's players began pressing, pushing up, and fighting hard!

Otherwise, what could they do?

Rely on Ibrahimovic, Bergkamp, Pires, and Overmars to turn the tide?

Alone, they couldn't even breach Millwall's midfield defense.

The double midfielders advanced, the fullbacks pushed forward. This wasn't a weak team, where a numbers disadvantage could still create chances. Against Millwall, Arsenal had to match them at least in numbers up front.

Millwall played at a controlled pace, and whenever Pirlo got the ball, Arsenal's players immediately retreated, wary of Millwall's fast counterattack.

But once they were in position, they noticed Pirlo taking his time, holding the ball without urgency.

After three consecutive transitions, there was still no sign of a threatening pass or an increased push forward from Pirlo. Arsenal's players, noticing this, opted against falling back deeply on defense. Instead, they tried to press higher, directly attempting to win the ball back. Yet, they were visibly out of sync—some players had already fallen back into position, while others stepped forward to intercept.

In the 63rd minute, Aldrich suddenly muttered to himself, "It's time."