Chapter 482: Piers Morgan and Media Industry

In Milan, just before the Champions League press conference officially began, Richard sat in the back row as usual with Marina Granovskaia. They were about to follow the normal interview routine when, suddenly, a young man slipped into the empty seat beside Richard.

At first, Richard didn’t think much of it. Probably just another journalist trying to get a better spot. But then the young man turned to him and said quietly, "Sir, hello."

Richard was caught off guard, and Marina immediately frowned. She was about to scold the young man for interrupting the press conference, but Richard lifted a hand, stopping her just in time.

He finally got a proper look at the stranger.

Piers Morgan.

But a younger version—sharp eyes, a crisp business shirt, dark blazer; the classic late-90s media-editor look.

Richard glanced down at the man’s name tag.

Daily Mirror.

’I see,’

Richard thought.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with Piers. The man loved splashy, sensational headlines and was known for his pushy, confrontational editorial style—the same aggressiveness that would later explode in that famous Cristiano Ronaldo interview years down the line.

Richard sighed inwardly. ’

Of course it’s him’

Still, he shook the young Piers Morgan’s hand and responded politely to his introduction. After a brief exchange, the young editor leaned forward slightly.

"Sir," he said, "may I personally interview you?"

Richard blinked and pointed at himself. "Me?"

Piers nodded with complete confidence. "Yes. You."

Richard leaned back, studying the ambitious young journalist before giving a small shrug.

He didn’t decline. "Sure."

Marina stiffened beside him. A Daily Mirror interview could be dangerous—unpredictable, even explosive. Richard understood that. He weighed the risks, the potential headlines, and the trouble that might follow. Still, he followed Piers Morgan to a lounge after O’Neill finished his interview.

They sat down.

"Was the last league match a major blow to you?" Piers asked immediately.

"..."The opening question left Richard momentarily speechless.

’No wonder he wanted to interview me,’

Richard thought.

He’s aiming straight for the jugular.

But if he backed out now, he’d be called petty—or worse. So he answered carefully.

"Not exactly. But sometimes, these things happen in football. Some errors are genuine mistakes; others are... calculated."

Piers frowned. "Are you suggesting the referee deliberately hindered Manchester City’s chances of winning?"

"I’m not sure," Richard replied. "But anyone who watched the match can judge for themselves. I genuinely admire Uriah, I really do. As a referee, he disallowed two of our goals and overlooked a penalty. Ha—if any other referee made even one of those mistakes, they’d lose sleep for weeks. Yet he can withstand public pressure. His inner fortitude is something I respect. I’m not being sarcastic. I mean it."

Richard’s tone held sincerity. Some people were simply pawns used by others... but being an effective pawn wasn’t easy.

Piers nodded as he jotted down notes. "I heard the Referee Committee has suspended Uriah from Premier League matches until the investigation is over. Without new opportunities, he likely won’t officiate in the league or major cup games again."

"Probably." Richard shook his head but didn’t comment further. Normally, once Uriah lost his usefulness, he’d be thrown away like garbage—but what if Wiseman still saw value in him?

Piers suddenly asked, "Have you heard Wiseman’s statement regarding the FA?"

"Which one? About the fine and the ban Manchester City received?"

Piers nodded.

"Yes, I heard. It’s nothing serious. We still have our chance to make an appeal, so there’s no need to panic."

"Don’t you know Wiseman personally? Will City really appeal?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say we’re close friends," Richard answered. "Our relationship has always been good. But work is work, and friendships are friendships. Probably, since the FA has been struggling financially, they’re looking for ways to generate more revenue."

"..." Piers Morgan paused—stunned—before his expression shifted to excitement. ’

This is what I was waiting for.’

But at that moment, another realization struck him: Richard’s words carried deeper implications.

FA’s financial troubles.

Ever since the Premier League broke away from the FA, their revenue had plummeted. Once supported by the lower leagues, the FA found itself abandoned after the restructuring. Their financial stability had collapsed, replaced by hardship. People in English football knew this, of course, but Richard bringing it up publicly—especially during a power struggle—felt like exposing Wiseman’s vulnerabilities.

Morgan considered it. Rumor had it that Richard owned a small share in Sky Sports. What if he knew insider information? Maybe that explained his bluntness. Otherwise, such a sensitive topic shouldn’t be spoken of so casually.

"Sir, are you saying—" Piers began.

Richard smiled and cut him off gently. "I don’t know. Do you have any other question?"

Which means... don’t ask any further. Next question. The sharp-minded Piers Morgan immediately understood what Richard was implying.

Here, it felt like after Richard had given him some face, Piers also felt the need to prioritize his questions that he want. He adjusted his approach, then smoothly shifted the conversation toward the upcoming Champions League match.

"As the defending champions, what’s your goal for the first group stage match?"

Without hesitation, Ricahrd replied, "Of course, to win! We have wonderful memories in Italy. Inter Milan is incredibly strong; they boast some of the world’s best squad, not to mention geniuses like Baggio, Zamorano and Djorkaeff."

Piers Morgan nodded, asked a few more questions, and once he was satisfied, he smoothly changed the subject to the new stadium.

"There won’t be any major changes at Maine Road for now," Richard replied, "especially since we’re aiming to move into a new stadium in 2000."

Soon after, Richard noticed several journalists leaving the press conference room—O’Neill’s session was clearly wrapping up. He stood, bid farewell to Piers Morgan, and returned to the VIP box. Today’s interview with Piers had been surprisingly satisfying, especially considering the extra time he spent chatting afterward.

"Hmmm..."

Richard began reflecting on recent events—the importance of the media, how crucial it was for him to express his opinions, and how necessary it was to make his voice heard.

"Media..." he muttered.

Just like how Murdoch had planted his influence deep into British politics and business through the power of his media empire. Money was no longer a problem for Richard. The only question now was:

which

media asset should he acquire?

And then he noticed something else—Piers Morgan was watching all of this with a serious, almost calculating expression. Well... hadn’t he just found the perfect person to become his insider?

Richard tapped his fingers lightly against his armrest. ’

Yes... this could work.’

When Richard returned to the press conference area, he saw reporters surrounding O’Neill, bombarding him with questions.

However, despite Manchester City’s severe Premier League penalties, almost no one cared about that here. What everyone was truly interested in was tomorrow’s match—Manchester City facing Inter Milan.

The number one sports newspaper in Europe,

La Gazzetta dello Sport

, had sent one of its senior reporters, who had been following the Premier League closely this season. Naturally, he was thrilled to see Manchester City come to Italy once again for a Champions League clash. Many Italian journalists were present, and when they heard O’Neill’s earlier comments, they immediately labeled him arrogant.

O’Neill’s basic response was simple:

"We thrive on formidable opponents; defeating them brings a unique satisfaction."

Manchester City were the defending champions, but comparing the two squads honestly, Inter Milan had equal—if not superior—starting strength and squad depth.

If Richard had heard that, he would’ve gladly given those Italian reporters a middle finger.

Keep your so-called Italian superiority to yourselves.

Let’s see what happens a few years from now when scandal after scandal starts exploding in your own backyard.

The

Gazzetta

reporter smiled lightly. He was already very familiar with these kinds of mind games.

"Is this your psychological warfare?" he asked. "Do you want Inter Milan to hear your confidence and attack more aggressively at the Meazza, allowing your team to exploit speed and counterattack for an easy win?"

In Italy, the homeland of tactical football, journalists were indeed sharper and more knowledgeable. It wasn’t that reporters from other countries hadn’t considered this angle—but none could pinpoint it so quickly. Even so, O’Neill maintained a calm, indifferent smile.

"Psychological warfare?" he chuckled. "On the contrary, doesn’t Inter

have

to play aggressively at the Meazza? Knowing they’re facing us—Manchester City, the dark horse—do you think they’ll play conservatively? Mr. Reporter, I’m merely stating facts. And I can’t say Manchester City would be satisfied with just a draw away from home. We are the defending champions."

The reporter nodded and continued with another question, still smiling.

"Even with Manchester City’s squad affected, you firmly insist your team must win tomorrow?"

"I rarely give ultimatums or demand absolute victory," O’Neill replied. "My expectations for players vary. Some can reach 90 percent in training but only perform 60 percent in a match. Even if we win, I wouldn’t be satisfied. So for tomorrow, I’m only asking the players to perform slightly above their normal level. If they do that, I believe the result will naturally fall in our favor."

O’Neill spoke with confidence and ease, making Richard nod in approval. But then a question came that made O’Neill feel completely helpless.

"There are rumors that Luigi Simoni is under pressure from Juventus supporters, and another rumor claims Manchester City owner Richard Maddox told Moratti to invite Roy Hodgson back to coach Inter, leading to Simoni’s dismissal. Is this true?"

O’Neill sighed internally. He felt innocent—he truly had nothing to do with this. He didn’t even feel obligated to answer, but what choice did he have?

Before the match, Richard had already warned him this topic might appear. After all, Richard and Moratti shaking hands and being photographed together had already fueled speculation.

Richard had explained: Moratti had invested heavily for years yet still failed to secure the Serie A title. Even though Luigi Simoni led Inter to win the UEFA Cup last season, Moratti remained unsatisfied. Meanwhile, Manchester City had risen to the top of Europe, and for reasons unknown, Moratti increasingly believed English coaches were more reliable.

That was why he began thinking of Roy Hodgson, who had previously coached Inter. To be fair, when Hodgson first took over Inter, he had fewer resources than the club has now—yet he still led them to a third-place league finish and a UEFA Cup final, only losing on penalties. With that track record, Moratti believed that if Hodgson returned to coach the current squad, he would surpass Simoni’s achievements.

Hence, the media had already begun speculating wildly, claiming that Moratti had contacted Richard for his opinion.

As for the person they questioned, O’Neill was utterly speechless. How could Richard’s prediction have been

that

accurate?

He found the whole thing baffling. Why were they even asking him? He obviously couldn’t go out and say Hodgson wasn’t suitable. All he could do was vaguely align himself with whatever Moratti supposedly thought.

"The choice of coach for Inter Milan has nothing to do with me," O’Neill said.

In front of the media, he had no choice but to be evasive. Speak less, reveal less, keep everything simple. That was the safest path.