"Are you sure you donât want to stay longer? I can host you right now. Think of it as a way to celebrate our cooperation," Richard offered.
Lennart Johansson, a member of UEFAâs Legal & Disciplinary Committee, had already agreed to meet at Main Road after Richard promised to finally show him the original evidence from the Francis Lee bribery scandal.
"Iâm here with a mask and hood, trying to keep a low profile. What makes you think Iâd want to go out to eat with you?" Johansson replied, rejecting the invitation.
Richard didnât push the matter further, understanding the delicate nature of the situation.
"By the way, howâs the Martin case going? Do you know any updates?" Richard asked just before Johansson got into his car.
"Donât worry, Graham Kelly has already been warned, and he knows what to do!" Johansson replied quickly, then hurriedly drove off, making sure no one noticed him.
Richard was satisfied with the answer. He turned back and returned to the office.
A week had passed since then, and finally, OâNeillâs verdict had come.
After the two-year ban decision, the FA finally softened their stance and announced that he would be banned from the touchline for two months following a red card during a match against Rotherham United.
As a result, for the first 13 matches of the season, he would have to manage from the stands, unable to give direct instructions to his players from the sideline. Despite this, his coaching license remained intact, and he could still be actively involved, communicating with his assistants and trying to influence the game from a distance. The ÂŁ750,000 fine remained in place, which City promptly paid.
"This is the best result," Richard said to OâNeill, who was already haggard after waiting so long for the final verdict.
"I know..." OâNeill said, shaking his head. "I need to get some sleep first."
"Then go take care of yourself," Richard replied helplessly.
After notifying OâNeill about the finalized decision from the FA, Richard got into his Porsche and immediately set off for Brick Community Stadium, home of the Wigan Warriorsâan English professional rugby league club based in Wigan, Greater Manchester.
His purpose?
To recruit one of the godfathers of British sports medicine: Dave Fevre.
Fate has a strange way of coming full circle.
Who wouldâve guessed that the man who had treated Paul Lakeâs cruciate ever since he sustained it during the match against Sunderland (Chapter 97: First Blood) was none other than Dave Fevre himself?
Or to be precise, it was thanks to Paul Lakeâs referral from Wythenshawe Hospital to St Helens. It was only during his last visit to check on him that he found out.
Other than St Helens, Fevre was currently serving as a physio for Wigan Rugby Leagueâa club often regarded as the Manchester United of their sport.
"No problem, Iâll sit and wait," Fevre said over the phone from the other side.
"No, Iâve already arrived at the stadium. Letâs meet at the restaurant."
Then, without realizing it, they bumped into each other before reaching the restaurant, both surprised and chuckling. After a brief laugh, Richard pointed toward the foyer.
"How are you today?"
"Iâm good, Mr. Maddox."
To be honest, Fevre was hoping for a pay rise, but when he heard Richard say, "Youâd better read the letter," he was taken aback.
Fevre opened the letter Richard had given him without any explanation. When he saw the contents, he couldnât believe it. Richard wasnât kiddingâhe was seriously offering him the role, as head physio no less.
"Head Physio? Manchester City?" His head was practically spinning.
"No, I canât. Iâm sorry, Mr. Maddox," Fevre adamantly shook his head, rejecting Richardâs offer.
"Why?"
Fevre handed the letter back to Richard. "Both my kids have type-one diabetes, and theyâre only three years old. This is the most important thing in my life now, gaffer. I need to do everything I can for them."
If it were a normal physiotherapy job, he could manage it part-time or balance it like his current job at Wigan, but head physio?
That required full dedication.
Richard nodded. From his personal perspective, he understood that Dave needed to be around for his family.
"You see, Dave, City is now partnering with Wythenshawe Hospital. I donât mind getting you district nurses to help sort it out, and you can adapt your hours to make it work for you."
"..."
"All that for free. The club will cover everything. Plus, youâll receive a salary of ÂŁ1,000 a month, with annual contract renewals, and housing provided by the clubâ"
"Iâm in!"
He thought, â
Iâm going to have to make some quick decisions here.â
Fevre finally couldnât resist the temptation of Richardâs offer. At the moment, even working in St. Helens and Wigan, he could barely scrape together ÂŁ1,000 a month. Now Richard was offering him a stable salary along with all these perksâso who wouldnât be interested?
"Good. Now, what do you need for your physio department?"
"I need a support team. One physio, a masseur, and a doctorâor even a part-time doctor would be okay."
"Just like your team in Wigan?"
Fevre nodded.
"To be honest with you, the current City medical facilities are still not up to standard. Thatâs why weâre collaborating with Wythenshawe Hospital. Also, I donât know much about the medical side, so Iâll give you the freedom to choose your own staff. Is that enough?" Richard said.
After about 20 minutes of discussing how to set up the concept for Cityâs physio department, Richard had officially secured the first member of Cityâs High Performance Team.
For now, Fevre would lead Cityâs physio unit in collaboration with Wythenshawe Hospital.
Two Weeks Later
During this time, Richard focused on gathering information and maintaining contact with several clubs from England, Spain, and Italyâmost of them small and relatively unknown.
He devised and followed a rather simplistic method: reviewing player information from youth squads around the world, including photos. For those he considered worthy of attention, he would fax the club and inquire about their availability.
The first player on Richardâs list was a young centre-back named Marco Materazzi, who played for FC Trapani 1905, an Italian club competing in Serie D, the highest level of semi-professional football in Italy.
Richard made an offer of ÂŁ500,000, which translated to 25 million Italian Lireâa substantial sum for a club in Serie D. The offer was accepted, and now itâs just the personal negotiations left with the player.
The second fax landed at an Italian club, Como, which had just been relegated from Serie B to Serie C1. Richard inquired about the availability of their current "striker", Gianluca Zambrotta, who had only played one match all season. The offer was also the sameâ25 million Italian lireâand the deal was soon reached with Como.
"This guy, youâre right! Heâs a perfect fit to play as a wide midfielder!" OâNeill, who was reviewing Zambrottaâs data and match footage, suddenly exclaimed.
After Richard bought the match footage from an unknown scout, he immediately asked for the tape to be sent and reviewed it with OâNeill.
"What do you think? You happy with what youâve seen?"
OâNeill gave a quick nod. "Yeah, theyâre young, loads of room to grow. And the way they play fits this First Divisionâmore about grit and strength than just fancy footwork."
"When you meet with them later, promise them playing time," Richard advised. "Even if itâs just as a rotational player, be specificâgive them the exact numbers. Tell them how many minutes they can expect. Thereâs a reason he chose Como over the two Milan giants nearby."
Zambrottaâs decision to join a lower-league side, where he was more likely to see regular action and build his reputation, turned out to be a smart move. That bet paid offâhe would later rise to become one of Italyâs greatest attacking full-backs or wing-backs.
"Do you think theyâll accept our offer?"
"Iâm not sure," Richard said, shaking his head.
This is why he chose OâNeill to persuade them. After all, OâNeill was the manager. Players often responded better to their direct manager, especially when it came to discussing something as important as their future on the pitch. To convince the Italians, who werenât motivated by money but by playing time, it would be better for him to take charge.
"So, we heading to Italy to talk to them now?"
Richard nodded, his mind already running through the details ahead. He turned to OâNeill, ensuring every aspect was covered.
"If there are any language barriers," Richard said, "the club will provide a translator for each of them to make sure nothing gets lost in translation. Make sure to make them feel important. We want them to understand how crucial they are to the plan we have here. They need to feel like theyâre a big part of our project."
That settles it.
The next destination: Italy.
OâNeill will go to the Province of Trapani and then to Como to negotiate with the players, while Richard will visit Lazio and Juventus to recruit the head of Cityâs High Performance Team.