Chapter 301: A Much Needed Break

Newcastle United—and English football as a whole—were rocked by perhaps the biggest shock in their recent history: Kevin Keegan resigned as manager.

During his five years at St James’ Park, Keegan had overseen a dramatic transformation of the club’s fortunes. When he was appointed in February 1992, Newcastle were second from bottom in the old Second Division and looked destined for relegation. But Keegan kept them up, and in the 1992–93 season, they became one of the founding members of the new Division One.

A remarkable run of form saw them top the division for most of the season, and they earned promotion to the Premier League as champions.

What followed were third- and sixth-place finishes, before Newcastle famously led the Premiership for most of the 1995–96 season—only to be overtaken by Manchester United in the final weeks.

"I feel I have taken this club as far as I can,"

was the only statement he offered to the press upon his resignation.

The media immediately linked Keegan’s sudden departure to Newcastle’s humiliating 7–0 defeat at the hands of Manchester City. But in the following match, City boss Martin O’Neill quickly dismissed such speculation.

"Keegan is a good manager, and being defeated by Manchester City is hardly the reason he’d quit. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard," O’Neill said with a shrug. "A man of his experience wouldn’t just walk away because of one bad result."

Despite his denial, the press continued to draw connections between Keegan’s resignation and the heavy defeat.

"They’ll never understand the pressure of being a manager," Richard muttered as he skimmed through the headlines.

Newspapers and broadcasts painted the loss as the final straw—a psychological blow that finally broke Keegan’s resolve.

There was some truth behind the speculation. Keegan had taken Newcastle from a struggling second-tier side to Premier League title contenders in just a few years. But sustaining success at that level, under constant scrutiny and media pressure, took a heavy toll—emotionally and mentally.

Following the iconic 1995–96 season, where Newcastle scored 82 goals and held a 12-point lead at one stage, only to lose the title to Manchester United, doubts began to surface. Could Keegan really deliver silverware under such intense pressure?

Now the question was answered.

Still, no one expected Keegan to walk out on Newcastle just as they looked well placed to challenge for the league title.

Richard shook his head as he put the newspaper down. The media had always loved to sensationalize, crafting eye-catching headlines.

Following Manchester City’s advancement to the League Cup semi-finals, Ferguson’s generation of Red Devils arrived at Maine Road once again. Memories of the dramatic 5–4 scoreline from half a season ago were still fresh in everyone’s minds.

This time, City and United delivered yet another thrilling spectacle for the fans.

Final score: 2–2.

Unlike their previous league encounter, Manchester City conceded first in this match but managed to equalize twice in the final twenty minutes, having trailed for most of the game. Ferguson was seen cursing on the sidelines in frustration.

Richard’s expression was somewhat grim at full time.

Of the goals conceded, aside from Andy Cole’s stunning long-range strike, one was arguably due to Lehmann’s error.

Of course, Lehmann was a top-class goalkeeper; however, he sometimes lost his cool when the opposition employed tactics designed to provoke him emotionally

After the draw, Manchester City suffered only their second league defeat of the season—a 1–0 loss to Wimbledon gang, who continued to defy expectations by not only extending their stay in the top flight but also reaching the semi-finals of both domestic cup competitions.

Richard left Selhurst Park quietly after the match.

Major newspapers mocked them relentlessly. But Richard, O’Neill, and Robertson paid little attention to the headlines. Instead, they focused on conducting a thorough post-match analysis.

"Rotation will be key," Robertson said. "We can’t push this same eleven every game. They’ll burn out."

O’Neill agreed. "We need to build trust in the second unit. Give them minutes in controlled matches."

That meant evaluating backup players like Steve Finnan, Lampard, Akata, Zagorakis, and even Trezeguet.

"Also, Jens’s performances have dipped lately—what are you planning to do about it?" Richard asked.

Robertson nodded in agreement. "We’ve discussed it. We’re planning to use Buffon for the next few matches. To be honest, right now what we need most is stability—especially in the league and the League Cup."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Richard didn’t press further on the issue—both Fevre and Schlumberger had already arrived with detailed reports outlining the medical reasons behind the first team’s recent dip in performance.

Schlumberger then reported that the players were not suffering from significant physical fatigue. However, psychological assessments revealed growing mental weariness.

At this point in the season, the intensity and weight of expectations were beginning to take their toll. The squad featured several non-English players—new signings like Zanetti, Capdevila, Pirlo, and Okocha—many of whom were unaccustomed to playing through the winter without a break and were starting to feel the strain of the demanding schedule.

The pressure of performing after going through the traditional holiday period—especially around Christmas—caused noticeable fluctuations in mental sharpness, and now the consequences were beginning to show.

"Don’t worry about that—they’ll start getting used to it. In fact, now is the perfect time to toughen them up," Dave fevre said with a calm but resolute tone. "Because if we qualify for European competition next season, this kind of schedule will become the norm. They’ll need to be ready to perform consistently—through packed fixtures, foreign travel, and high expectations. Better they adapt now, rather than get overwhelmed later."

Richard couldn’t help but agree with him.

Everyone faces moments when they feel the urge to pause or escape under pressure. Professional footballers can’t go on strike, but their focus and adrenaline on the pitch can’t always remain at peak levels.

Richard understood that this wasn’t a problem that could be fixed by training or pep talks alone. A dual approach was needed: the players would have to adapt, and the coaching staff needed to manage the schedule more effectively. Sir Alex Ferguson, for example, was known for giving core players a rest in January to help them mentally and physically reset.

So he intended to do the same. He planned to give the squad a three-day break after the upcoming midweek FA Cup match.

The FA Cup fixture was set for Tuesday night, and the next league game wouldn’t be until the following Monday, giving them a five-day window.

The Cup match was against a weaker opponent—Wigan—and would be played at home. Still, O’Neill wasn’t about to take it lightly. Given the team’s recent inconsistency, he remained wary of a potential upset, even against a seemingly harmless side.

But after their defeat to Wimbledon the previous weekend and the barrage of criticism that followed, the players’ fighting spirit reignited. With their physical condition waning, how could City realistically expect to win against a Wimbledon side that seemed to come with one clear intention—to rough them up and wear them down?

Rather than risk further injuries, City opted for a cautious approach.

The first-team regulars led the charge, delivering a resounding 2–0 victory over Wigan at home to advance to the next round of the FA Cup.

The next Premier League match saw Manchester City face George Graham’s Leeds United. Unlike Robertson, this time O’Neill had no intention of engaging in a war of words—he remained fully focused on his own squad. His aim was to increase rotation throughout the season, laying the groundwork for a strong second half.

Leeds United, who had finished fifth in the past two seasons, were now struggling. This season, they had slipped into mid-table, barely keeping distance from the relegation zone.

City took full advantage, with goals from the returning Larsson and Ronaldo sealing a comfortable 2–0 victory.

After the post-match interviews, Richard had already informed O’Neill and Robertson about his plan.

"Holiday?" O’Neill was taken aback.

Richard cleared his throat. "Refreshing. Just a bit of refreshing."

"What kind of refreshing?"

"Hmm—" Just as Richard was about to explain, his phone buzzed.

He pulled it out of his coat pocket and noticed a message from his brother, Harry. Raising a hand to O’Neill in a silent "one moment" gesture, he stepped aside to return the call.

"Richard, do you have any free time coming up?" Harry asked as soon as he picked up.

"Depends. Why?"

"A friend of mine in the States invited me to the Super Bowl. I’m not that into American football, but I thought maybe you’d be interested?"

"The Super Bowl? When is it?"

"This Saturday."

"Saturday..." Richard paused. "I’ll get back to you. By the way, can you get more tickets?"

"For who?"

"For all my players. Help me get around 60 tickets."

"...."Harry was speechless on the other end of the line.

"Not sure yet," he finally said. "I’ll ask around. If you’re coming, I’ll arrange a private box for us."

After hanging up, Richard stood in thought for a few seconds. Then he turned back to O’Neill and Robertson.

"Harry invited me to the Super Bowl in the States," he said. "I think this might be the perfect chance for everyone to unwind a little.

First and foremost, they were human beings before they were professional players—there’s no denying that. If the squad had been made up entirely of English players, Richard wouldn’t have offered them such leniency. In fact, he likely would’ve harshly criticized their poor performances.

English players, having grown up immersed in the local football culture, were well accustomed to the demanding schedule from a young age. They knew exactly what it meant to play for an English club—especially during the winter period.

When the influx of international players began, it wasn’t the homegrown talent who complained about the fixture congestion—it was the foreign players and their coaches who found the relentless pace most difficult to adjust to.