The Young Lion

In the middle of the night, there were not many customers in Sander's bar. Aldridge, who had occupied the pool table all night, put down their glasses, and sat directly on the pool table, smoking and chatting, talking about a bunch of silly things from childhood, Everyone teased each other so much that tears welled up in their eyes.

How could you be the head coach? Now that your family is so rich, you just need a head coach.

Brady exhaled a puff of smoke, and looked at Aldridge sitting across from him with a half-smile.

Heh, didn't he want to be a head coach since he was a child? What's so strange about that?

Yiwen sat next to Aldrich, his delicate little face was full of rosy color, and his lips curled up, showing a charming naive look.

What's the same? His family couldn't afford a football team when he was a kid.

Fred said naturally.

Aldridge didn’t answer this question. Everyone has their own ambitions. Sometimes he can’t understand other people’s choices. For example, in the football circle, Cantona’s retirement, Beckham’s early departure from the mainstream league, and the degeneration of countless young and famous stars, etc. Wait, is it just money? It is difficult to have a popular explanation to understand all the reasons.

Therefore, Aldridge didn’t intend to explain anything. When he had no money, he wanted to get rich. When he really had money to eat and wear, those illusory ideals and ambitions reverberated in his mind. In the world, Aldrich's retreat is to be a kid from a rich family who eats and waits to die, but before he fails in life, he always has to try.

When the bar was about to close, six or seven middle-aged men suddenly opened the bar door. They walked in and sat directly in front of the bar counter. Sand waved the guys to go away. He personally took out the glasses and came out one by one. Pour them wine.

Aldrich inadvertently saw that the faces of the group sitting in front of the bar were painted, but they didn't care, drinking and talking and laughing, recounting their previous deeds without restraint.

After listening for a while, Aldridge probably understood that after the Millwall game in the afternoon, they blocked a few Derby County fans who were alone in the alley and beat them up.

The man sitting in the middle was obviously their leader. He was dressed in ordinary clothes and was not tall, but his appearance gave off a feminine and ruthless feeling. His eyes stared at him as if he was radiating cold air.

Drinking and smoking, the group was full of interest. They got up and walked towards the pool table. The leader saw Brady and the others and greeted them casually.

It's as casual as the elders meeting the younger ones.

Aldrich jumped off the pool table, took his suit and walked out, followed by the other friends.

When passing by that group of people, Aldridge was suddenly grabbed by the arm, who was the leader of the group.

He looked Aldridge up and down, and Aldridge pulled back his arm violently, and the other party smiled in surprise: Oh, kid, don't get excited. You seem to be Aldrich Hall, right? ?”

Aldrich replied with a cold face: I am Aldrich, if you touch me again, I will smash your hands.

The middle-aged strong man raised his hands exaggeratedly, and teased his friends: Oh, he is too nervous, as if we will rape him, hahaha.

The friends around him didn't expect Aldrich to have such a big reaction, even uttered threatening words.

Hey, Pork, forget it.

Seeing that the atmosphere became tense, Brady, especially Aldrich stared at the man opposite him with a cold face,

If there is any trouble, there will be some unpleasant conflicts, so he stood up and wanted to mediate.

Aldrich reached out to stop Brady, he knew who the man opposite was.

BushWackers organizer, Pocke Greer.

Aldrich doesn't have any affection for football hooligans, or in other words, people with normal and stable lives don't want to have any intersection with hooligans.

Polk lit a cigarette and smiled casually. He said to Aldridge, Hey, boy, I'm glad you took over Millwall. You've done a good job recently. Keep up the good work.

He really looked like an elder encouraging the younger generation. Aldrich was disgusted, sniffed and sneered, If you stop committing crimes outside under the banner of Millwall, I think I will be happier.

Hearing Aldrich's words, Polk looked a little colder, and said lightly: Aldrich, I am not your enemy, we met for the first time, why are you full of hostility towards me? My father is Milwo Seoul fans, I was the same when I was a child, how old are you? But you have taken over the club for three months, so don’t be too self-righteous.”

Aldrich was too lazy to argue with him, and sneered: I tell you, Millwall Club is mine now. I can let it soar into the sky, or I can make it disappear from London, but that's all my will, you What are you? I don't care if you're a fan or not, but if you smear Millwall and cause me a loss of property, not only can I get you out of East London, I can even send you to jail with my own hands, Polk- Greer, who do you think you're talking to? It's easier for the Hall family to crush you than an ant! Not only are we rich, but we used to live here, you can afford street gangsters? Clown !

After saying that, Aldridge put his suit on his shoulders and turned to leave.

Polk-Greyer, who was nearly forty years old, and his companions all had dumbfounded expressions.

Polk grabbed Aldrich's arm reflexively, not intending to let him leave just like that.

But the next second.

Aldridge grabbed the wine bottle on the table next to him, and hit Polk on the head with his backhand!

Fu-ck-You! Are you deaf? Can't you hear what I just said? You scum, don't stain my clothes!

Aldridge not only smashed a wine bottle directly on Polk's head, but also grabbed his neck with one hand, and dragged him in front of him. The distance between the two was less than ten centimeters. Aldrich's handsome His face was completely cold, and he roared aggressively in a low voice.

Pork's head was hit hard by the wine bottle, his thinking was a little confused, and he was stunned for a moment.

And Aldridge was roaring like a majestic beast in front of his eyes.

Pork-greyer! F-ck! Do you fucking have any brains? You have kids, you have a wife, you can be a bum, but you want your wife out of a job? Want the police around the clock Staring at you? Do you think I'm a punk? Do you dare to hit me back? As long as you dare, I will make you bankrupt if you dare to go to court! Or lay a black hand on me? Fu-ck! Hall The family will take revenge on your whole family! Polk Greer, you are finished, your life is finished, but you fucking think about your own family, your own children, don’t let them be poor, don’t let you Your child has become the scum of society just like you! He-mother, listen to me, don’t let me see you again! Get lost as far as you can.”

Aldrich suddenly calmed down after his rant. He gently pushed away the dull-faced Polk, and then slowly tidied up the wrinkled T-shirt for Polk, then turned and walked towards the gate of the bar.

The people behind Polk rushed up, but Polk reached out to block them. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, with a complicated expression on his face.

As Aldrich said, football hooligans like them dare not challenge those rich families.

Not to mention that they only have one pair of fists, rich and powerful people can crucify them as long as they go through formal legal channels.

Brady, Fred, Ivan and the others opened their mouths slightly, staring dumbfounded at Aldrich's display of power just now. They had never seen such a tough side of Aldrich.

Who is Polk?

That's the fierce guy who brought the Bush Wackers hooligans to beat him up!

Aldrich actually smashed a wine bottle on the opponent's head!

When he followed Aldridge out of the bar in a daze, Brady didn't know what was going on in his mind. Was he suspicious that Polk's head was hard enough? Or is the bottle too brittle?

Anyway, the other party's head is not bleeding...

Under the vast moonlight, Aldrich, with his suit collar hooked behind his shoulders in one hand and a cigarette in the other hand, walked toward the eastern suburbs with a heavy heart. Ivan followed behind him with his hands behind his back, his big eyes swept over him from time to time. His back.

Aldridge was very helpless. It is an indisputable fact that English football clubs depend on the community. Wimbledon in the future is a typical example. The team moved away from the original community. A new team: AFC Wimbledon, even if it is a fresh start from the seventh tier league.

Since the mid-1980s, Margaret Thatcher ordered a crackdown on football hooligans to clear up the football environment. In the past ten years, the results have been very obvious.

However, due to Millwall's league level, it gave BushWackers a gap to survive.

Fighting football hooligans is also carried out according to the level of the league, especially after the establishment of the Premier League. This league with a corporate nature will naturally not want football hooligans to ruin the brand value of the Premier League for the sake of commercial interests, but there are only so many British police, and British games are concentrated on weekends, and more than 80% of the games are played at the same time. It is conceivable that on the game day, most of the police force will be sent to maintain the order of the Premier League team.

So the first to be hit hard is the football hooligan organization of the Premier League team, and then it will be the League One.

But London is a place with many teams. In the Premier League alone, there are many London teams, such as Chelsea, Tottenham, Arsenal, West Ham United, Crystal Palace, Queens Park Rangers, and Wimbledon.

The police force in London is very struggling just to maintain these games, and if it is a game with a derby atmosphere, I am afraid that the police force will have to be deployed from other places to support. In this context, Millwall is playing in League One. Even if football hooligans still exist, the London police are more than capable.

He stopped suddenly. Aldrich was a little tired. He sat down by the embankment and thought to himself: I must be promoted to the Premier League next year!

PS: Thanks to Take off your slippers for the reward!