Chapter 136: How to Make Them Shut Up (First)

The CBF had become a major distraction for the Brazilian trio, while

The Sun

continued to disrupt the team’s momentum with unnecessary rumors—especially those surrounding Ronaldo’s recent collapse. The club needed to manage the situation carefully before it escalated to the FA or even Parliament.

And the target Richard set was clear.

"One week," Richard said firmly to the three people standing before him. "I’m only asking each of you to complete your tasks within one week."

Everyone was caught off guard by the demand, but no one dared to question him—not while he was in this furious state.

They nodded seriously, especially Gordon Barry, who had proposed the idea in the first place. He was thrilled that Richard had finally given him the green light.

The next match was against Darlington.

As usual, O’Neill’s son arrived early at the Maine Road press conference room. He took his seat at the front, his eyes scanning the modest group of reporters scattered throughout the room.

But this time, something felt different. A major national newspaper had suddenly shown up, adding a layer of tension to the atmosphere.

Camera flashes lit up the backdrop as reporters leaned forward, waiting for a statement. O’Neill adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon. Before we get into the usual pre-match questions, I’d like to address the recent speculation surrounding our players and the club."

The room immediately fell silent.

"We’re well aware of the current situation," he continued. "But our focus remains the same. We prepare. We play. We win. And tomorrow, against Darlington, that’s exactly what we plan to do."

It felt like a typical opening—reassuring, composed.

A reporter raised his hand.

"How’s the squad looking ahead of tomorrow’s game? Any injury concerns or unavailable players?"

O’Neill nodded, understanding the question behind the question—it was about Ronaldo’s condition.

"The squad’s looking strong," he said with a confident nod. "Everyone’s fit and ready to go. So yes, they’re all set for the match."

Another reporter quickly followed up.

"How important is this match in the context of reaching the playoffs and—"

O’Neill swiftly shook his head, cutting the question short. "No, no, no," he said, his voice firm. "We still have a chance. We’ve got 14 matches left to catch Birmingham City. The media might say our shot at automatic promotion is gone, but I believe we can pull off a miracle."

His words hung in the air, catching the attention of everyone in the room—especially the reporter from The Sun.

His eyes lit up at this. The chief editor had been given the green light to go after Manchester City, and the reporter was eager to take the opportunity.

As the session neared its end and the usual back-and-forth began to wind down, a hand shot up near the back of the room.

’The Sun

again,’ O’Neill thought, taking a deep breath and bracing himself.

It was the reporter from

The Sun

, standing slowly, a notepad in one hand and today’s front-page headline in the other.

"How confident are you in your team’s ability to secure promotion?"

"Of course, I always believe in my team," O’Neill replied confidently, keeping his composure.

The reporter nodded and scribbled something down before clearing his throat.

"Mr. O’Neill, one more question, if you don’t mind. Considering your player’s recent collapse—and the fact that your club doesn’t even have a proper full-time physio—shouldn’t someone be held accountable? Or are we meant to believe this was just another accident?"

At the far end of the room, where there were fewer people, Ronaldo clenched his fist tightly. Richard, noticing his discomfort, gently patted his shoulder.

"Just listen. Don’t worry," he murmured, offering reassurance.

The question had been anticipated. O’Neill, Richard, and the club’s legal team had already discussed it thoroughly, preparing for this moment.

He took a deep breath before responding, his tone measured but firm.

"Let me address that head-on," he began. "We’re working in collaboration with Wythenshawe Hospital, one of the best facilities in Manchester. It’s renowned and was established by Princess Margaret herself. To suggest that our medical team or the hospital’s care is anything less than top-notch is frankly insulting, and I won’t stand for that accusation."

"..."

The

Sun

reporter’s eyes widened.

Indeed, even before Ronaldo’s collapse, City had entered a partnership with Wythenshawe Hospital. Founded by Princess Margaret in 1993 for its dedicated transplant hospital, it even gained self-governing trust status in 1994 under NHS reforms by the government.

’Damn it,’

the reporter thought, realizing he had just fired a blank.

O’Neill didn’t miss a beat.

"We’ve got a team of medical professionals monitoring our players at the highest level. True, we don’t employ a traditional full-time physio, but we’ve made a deliberate decision to ensure our players receive care from top-tier external specialists. To suggest otherwise isn’t just unfair to our national hospital—it borders on libel."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room.

The press remained silent, and even the reporter from The Sun seemed to hesitate. It was well-known that The Sun was owned by an American, so O’Neill redirected their questioning to focus on the hospital itself.

It was almost as if they were now questioning a hospital supported by the Royal Family. That wasn’t just bad taste—it was bad judgment. The reporter could feel a sense of discomfort settling in. He cursed O’Neill venomously in his mind.

As he glanced around the room, seeing other reporters taking notes, his mouth twitched. He could already see it: instead of City, The Sun would be the headline.

O’Neill’s gaze briefly shifted to Richard and Ronaldo in the back. Noticing Richard’s nod, he felt a sense of resolve—his job was done.

"I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: Even though we don’t have an in-house physio, our medical setup is second to none. Anyone questioning our approach should look at the facts. And if they still have doubts, maybe they should be questioning the standards of Wythenshawe Hospital instead."

"..."

’But that’s not what I meant!’

The reporter wanted to cry.

Was he really about to question a hospital supported by the Royal Family?

Of course not—he was just trying to make a quick buck, as the chief editor had urged him to put City on the target board. But what he didn’t realize was that he had already walked into their trap.

’Done,’

Richard said to himself before turning around.

First, how to make

The Sun

shut up?

Use the Royal Family as a shield. Redirect their accusations away from City and toward Wythenshawe Hospital—shift the spotlight there. After all, the hospital operates under royal patronage. Let’s see how Murdoch handles a clash with them.

Ronaldo, still in a daze, hesitated for a moment before quickly following him.

Richard took a moment to explain everything to Ronaldo. The forward wasn’t exactly well-versed in these matters, so most of it still felt like a blur. But once Richard laid it out, Ronaldo realized just how deep the man’s schemes ran.

"There’s more to come," Richard said, stopping and turning to face him.

"As I said, you’d better focus on football and let me handle the rest." He paused, then smiled. "Including the federation. It won’t take long. As long as you keep performing, they won’t dare touch your spot in the national team."

Which means... next is how he will handle CBF.

Ronaldo doubted Richard’s statement, but he nodded nonetheless, waiting for the promise to be delivered. For him, and other Brazilians, playing in the national team, representing their country was everything. It was an honor they held dear.

With the League and FA Cup behind them, City had to shift their focus back to the Second Division.

They were still in 5th place, and thanks to what Richard had promised after their meeting yesterday, O’Neill suddenly felt incredibly motivated.

"Martin, do you believe in miracles?"

Richard had asked the previous day.

"I know, and I’m sorry about McAllister and Redknapp—they both rejected our offer."

McAllister had decided to stay at Leeds and finish out his contract, while Redknapp chose to remain at Liverpool, waiting for his opportunity after his injury.

"But!"

Richard had said suddenly, his voice rising with emphasis.

"Automatic promotion. If you manage to catch up with Birmingham City, I promise you—next season, every player you want, I’ll bring them in for you. Even if it means burning all of City’s money."

O’Neill’s eyes widened at the bold promise.

A 15-point gap separated City from the top of the table. If the target shifted from securing a playoff spot to chasing automatic promotion, it meant one thing—City would need to win every remaining match.

O’Neill paused, thinking it through, then gave a firm, serious nod.

Soon the match against Darlington.

As the last player jogged into the changing room, O’Neill began his instruction.

"Up front as usual, Solskjær. And behind, Ronaldo." He stopped and looked toward the striker. "You sure you can play?"

Ronaldo nodded.

"Good. Next..."

After giving his final instructions, the first half of the match against Darlington soon began.

From the director’s box, Richard could see O’Neill was furious.

"Run! Hey, run!!!"

"Stay back, don’t push too far!"

"There! Over there, help him out! It’s wide open, get over there!!"

The intensity of O’Neill’s commands echoed across the field, his frustration mounting as he watched his players struggle.

Richard, observing the tension, knew O’Neill’s patience was wearing thin.

By the end of the first half, the score was Darlington 1 – 0 Manchester City.

But O’Neill didn’t worry. He clapped his hands, calling the team to attention.

"Alright, listen up," O’Neill said in the changing room, his voice calm but firm. "We’re making some changes."

Originally, he thought the squad was still reeling from the loss to Manchester United, which is why he had stuck with the counterattack strategy. But now, he realized he had been wrong.

His gaze narrowed as he scanned all the players in the changing room, especially the midfielders—Jamie Pollock, Keith Gillespie, and Graham Fenton—who he stared at a little longer.

A few players exchanged uncertain glances, sensing a shift in his tone.

"We’re abandoning the wings and the counter for now. From here on, we press them in the middle." He paused, scanning everyone in the room before continuing with words that left everyone stunned.

"Now, back to the 4-4-2. William, from now on, you’ll play as a holding midfielder. Ian One, Ian Two, and Tony—you’re in for the second half, replacing Jamie, Keith, and Graham."

Gallas’ eyes widened. Playing as a holding midfielder?

The three players—Ian Ferguson, Ian Taylor, and Tony Grant—were taken aback. Just yesterday, they’d been told they’d be on the bench, and now, they were starting in the second half?

Originally, O’Neill had planned to ease them back into action slowly—after all, the three loan players had only just recovered from injury. But after Richard’s bold promise the day before, he decided to take the risk.

Of course, the veterans Jamie Pollock and Graham Fenton were unhappy with this decision, while Keith Gillespie also followed suit, feeling displeased.

Formation change from 5-4-1 to 4-4-2:

Goalkeeper: Shay Given

Defenders: Cafu, Sol Campbell, Rio Ferdinand, Roberto Carlos

Midfielders: William Gallas, Ian Ferguson, Ian Taylor, and Tony Grant

Strikers: Ronaldo, Solskjær

The first half was a disaster, but the second half was different.

The high pressing 4-4-2 formation allowed City to become more fluid in their play. The pressure in midfield was relentless, with Gallas proving himself as the most versatile player, working in unison with his teammates to win back possession quickly.

City’s players weren’t used to sitting back and defending—they preferred to attack, even if it meant risking everything. They weren’t comfortable being pressured by the opposition.

O’Neill harshly rebuked himself for choosing a counter-attacking strategy against Crystal Palace and Manchester United. If only he had decided to take the risk and go for an all-out attack, perhaps the result would have been different.

"Darlington’s defenders had grown accustomed to facing City, who sat back in the first half. They never anticipated that this time the opponent would suddenly adopt a pressing style," the commentator analyzed, watching the struggles they faced against the relentless duo of Ronaldo and Solskjær up front, with Roberto Carlos and Cafu constantly making overlapping runs.

Finally, in the 60th minute, the floodgates opened—and when the referee blew the final whistle:

Darlington 1 – 3 Manchester City.

"Another hat-trick for Ronaldo! He redeems himself after the setback at Old Trafford with this incredible performance!"