In Aldridge's mind, the overall concept of building a team was comparable to the act of eating.
The first approach was like attending a buffet. You could take whatever you liked—sign a dominant winger if you wanted to stretch play wide, or bring in a quick forward if your aim was to play on the counter. Everything depended on personal taste and imagination in design.
The second approach, however, was more like preparing a tailored meal. You worked with the cards you were dealt, selecting the style of play that best maximized the strengths of the players at your disposal. This method involved simpler tactics. You placed each player into the role that best suited their natural attributes and tendencies. Once they were all in place, the tactical framework would take shape almost automatically. But the limitations were obvious—what you gained in cohesion, you lost in flexibility.
Middlesbrough's tactical setup clearly fell into the second category.
In the tenth round of the First Division, Aldridge's Millwall would travel to Middlesbrough in North Yorkshire to take on the league's second-place team.
Aldridge took the pre-match preparation meeting extremely seriously. The entire coaching staff shared his view: out of all 46 rounds in the league season, this might be the most important.
This year, Middlesbrough had undergone a major internal shift. The club chairman and head coach were both replaced, mirroring the situation at Millwall. The man now in charge of Middlesbrough was former Manchester United captain Brian Robson, who had taken on a dual role as player-manager.
With Robson's reputation and leadership, combined with the arrival of Clayton Blackmore—who followed him from Manchester United—Middlesbrough experienced a remarkably smooth transition during what could have been a chaotic summer. There had been no adjustment period. From day one, Middlesbrough had looked like title contenders.
After nine rounds, Millwall had recorded six wins, two draws, and one loss, putting them on 20 points.
Middlesbrough matched that tally exactly—six wins, two draws, one loss—but trailed slightly in goal difference, placing them just behind Millwall in second.
From the media's perspective, the story was clear. Millwall may have been top of the table, but their youth made them a volatile force. Middlesbrough, on the other hand, were mature and stable. Their average age hovered around 25. Their oldest players—striker John Hendrie and defender Nigel Pearson—were 30, with Clayton Blackmore at 29 not far behind. That gave them a seasoned spine, something crucial for sustaining consistent form across a long campaign.
Another reason why Middlesbrough were widely considered favourites came down to their tactical structure.
They lined up in a defensive 5-3-2—a formation currently employed by none other than George Graham's Arsenal in the top flight. It was a passive, pragmatic setup rooted in sheer utilitarianism. Matches involving such systems could easily become dreary and lifeless, but they ground out results.
Aldridge saw things plainly. Millwall were the barefoot challengers. Middlesbrough were wearing shoes. But there was no reason to be intimidated by that.
Even so, the outcome of this match would carry weight for his young side.
If they lost, the barefoot would begin to fear the man in shoes.
And fear had no place in the minds of his players.
That was why Aldridge approached the tactical planning with extra caution.
"Even though their John Hendrie is thirty," he told the squad, "he's a pure finisher. He might disappear for 90 minutes, but then show up for one chance—and that's all he needs to change the game. Don't lose track of him."
He moved a marker on the board to represent the second striker.
"His partner, Graham Kavanagh, is twenty years old. Very different profile. He plays more like a defensive forward—pressing our back line with constant running and disrupting rhythm. Watch his headers; he's excellent in the air. And don't underestimate his creativity when he has possession. Your job is to cut off all passing lanes between him and Hendrie. Shut down that link."
This was the tone of the pre-departure tactical meeting. Aldridge stood at the board, laying out the team's defensive shape and walking the players through their individual assignments.
Each man paid close attention. Everyone understood what this game meant.
It wasn't just another fixture—it was the season's first true clash at the top.
The next day, Aldridge led his team to North Yorkshire. Before the match later that afternoon, he attended a press conference in Middlesbrough.
Because this was a top-of-the-table clash, the match had been scheduled for the evening—prime time for television ratings.
Seated in the press conference hall, Aldridge smiled as he looked out at the crowd of over twenty reporters. Several familiar faces stood out among them.
It was a marked contrast from the press environment just two months earlier, before the start of the First Division season.
Among the crowd, two young reporters from The Sun and The Daily Mail looked particularly excited to see him.
Before any questions were asked, Aldridge greeted them with a smile.
"Thomson, Richard—still interns?"
Thomson, representing The Sun, looked a little embarrassed. He smiled awkwardly and shook his head.
Clearly, he had since been promoted.
Despite the new role, his face still bore a youthful softness. After his first interview with Aldridge two months ago, Thomson had submitted his draft to the editors at his paper. What came out in print, however, was drastically rewritten. The article portrayed Aldridge not as the determined young manager Thomson had met, but as a spoiled boy using Millwall as his personal toy.
To his credit, Thomson, who still held onto his journalistic ethics, had felt ashamed of the distortion. Fortunately, it seemed Aldridge bore no grudge.
Richard, looking more confident and experienced, grinned and spoke up.
"Thanks to you, I've been hired full-time at the Daily Mail, haha."
Aldridge tilted his head with mild curiosity. "Oh? What's that got to do with me?"
Richard beamed with pride. "Everything. I've been covering Millwall these past two months, and you lot keep surprising everyone. Mr. Hall, I figured if I kept following your team, I couldn't possibly lose my job."
As he spoke, Richard gave a smug glance to his colleagues, prompting visible eye-rolls from the representatives of The Times and The Guardian.
Though still new to the profession, Richard wasn't afraid to play the role of bold upstart. Others sneered at his enthusiasm, brushing it off with condescending glances.
But now that Millwall's strong run was drawing wider media attention, those same seasoned journalists had been sent to cover the story. Richard, sensing he had gotten ahead of the pack, took great pride in his early commitment.
Seeing the number of media present, Aldridge said, "All right then—since we've got so many friends from the press here today, let's keep it to one question per person. Make it short and relevant to the game. I won't be answering anything outside of that. Let's begin. Richard, go ahead."
Aldridge sat up straighter, maintaining his usual warm and relaxed expression.
Richard did the same and asked loudly, "Mr. Hall, before the season began, you said Millwall's goal was simply to avoid relegation from the First Division. But now, nine rounds in, your team is sitting at the top of the table. The performances have been exceptional. In fact, your starting lineup hasn't conceded a single goal in eight of those matches. Millwall has only allowed two goals total. So, I have to ask—has your team's objective changed?"
The question caught the interest of every reporter in the room. On paper, Millwall wasn't considered particularly strong. Many players were unknowns or making their debuts at this level. Whether the team could maintain its current form remained to be seen.
And with this string of results, some wondered—was the young manager starting to believe the hype?
Aldridge scratched his head and offered a wry smile. "This doesn't have much to do with the next match, does it? Well… Millwall's objective this season is still the same. It's about developing the players. I haven't changed my stance from pre-season. This is a young squad with limitless potential. I'm not focused on short-term wins or obsessed with the league table. As long as my team improves with every game, I'll be satisfied. Now, if I say our goal is still to avoid relegation, you're probably all thinking I'm being disingenuous."
Laughter spread across the room.
With 20 points already secured from nine matches, and 50 points generally considered the survival threshold over 46 rounds, Aldridge's comments were hard to take at face value. Even if Millwall parked the bus for the rest of the season, they'd likely survive.
Aldridge lifted his hands in mock surrender and continued, "Because the First Division has reduced the number of teams this season, we all know that automatic promotion requires winning the title. There's also the play-off route. Either way, the competition will be fiercer than ever. So talking about league objectives right now is premature. I care only about the next game. Take things one match at a time—and in the end, the results will speak for themselves."
The journalists couldn't help but feel a little let down. They had hoped Aldridge might give them something bolder—something worth a headline. But his cautious, level-headed response offered little to sensationalize.
Still, he wasn't wrong. In a league this tight, a couple of bad results could send even the top team tumbling down to mid-table.
Thomson raised his hand and asked, "Mr. Hall, at a previous press conference, Middlesbrough manager Brian Robson was asked for his opinion of you. He said that, as a coach, you've had a brilliant start, and that Millwall under your leadership has entered a new era. He expressed his respect for you and said Middlesbrough would not underestimate your team. He also said First Division clubs should start taking Millwall seriously. What are your thoughts on that? And what's your opinion of Mr. Robson?"
Aldridge lowered his gaze and gave the question some thought. On the surface, Robson's words seemed respectful. But Aldridge could sense the psychological ploy beneath. It was a classic mind game—subtly shifting pressure by painting Millwall as a rising threat. A move right out of Ferguson's playbook.
In truth, both Aldridge and Robson had started their managerial careers at the same time. Robson was now a player-manager for the first time this season.
"I'll just say this," Aldridge replied, "Mr. Robson clearly studied Millwall very closely. Honestly, I'd prefer if every team in the league underestimated us. Ideally, they'd bench their best players against us. Haha."
The room erupted in laughter.
Underestimate Millwall?
The teams that had done so had been punished. Millwall's efficient defensive setup and sharp counterattacks had dismantled several overconfident opponents. Only pragmatic sides like Bolton and Reading had managed to take points off them.
Aldridge continued, "Mr. Brian Robson is a man worthy of respect, and it's not my place to evaluate his coaching ability. Middlesbrough's record over the past two months speaks for itself. They're widely considered the favourites to win the league and secure promotion to the Premier League. Naturally, we'll be hoping to beat such a direct rival."
He wasn't just being diplomatic. Robson had been England's captain in the '80s and exuded leadership. That same presence now energized his squad and gave them cohesion.
But Aldridge also understood that managing from the touchline required more than charisma or past glory. The limits of a head coach's success weren't determined by spirit alone.
He had no interest in starting a feud with Robson. It was enough to emphasize that Middlesbrough were clear title favourites. Let the rest of the league focus their attention there. If anyone was going to apply pressure, let it be on Robson's side—not his.
Aldridge spoke freely, cracking the occasional joke, keeping the atmosphere light and engaging.
The press conference ended in good spirits.
...
...
In England, supporting your team at away matches is considered the true measure of a fan's loyalty. It is both a yardstick and a benchmark. Compared to football hooligans—who care little for the sport itself and instead use it as an excuse to unleash violence—true supporter groups organize structured, committed away travel to cheer on their beloved clubs.
Although the "Roar" supporters' group had not been established for long, Brady managed to organize a travelling party of over 200 fans to make the trip to North Yorkshire. Since Millwall's home win over Luton, "Roar Roar" had attracted even more fans to join. As the leader of the group, Brady quickly built a reputation among the fanbase. He also established rules for the group's behavior—at the very least, fighting and alcohol abuse were strictly prohibited.
Following the release of the Taylor Report, Middlesbrough began construction on a new stadium. That project, however, was not due to be completed until the following summer—the Riverside Stadium.
Thus, the 1994–1995 season would mark Middlesbrough's final year playing at Ayresome Park. After it was converted to an all-seater venue, the capacity was reduced to just 20,000. Still, the stadium held deep historical meaning. During the World Cup, Ayresome Park—alongside Sunderland's Roker Park—was one of the designated host venues for the Northeast region.
Brady and the group of over two hundred Millwall supporters arrived at Ayresome Park wearing their club's dark blue shirts. They entered through the designated away entrance and filed into the stands in orderly fashion. None of them sat down. As was customary, home and away supporters were seated in separate sections. The Middlesbrough fans sitting nearest the away end looked on with unease.
The Millwall lot had arrived.
Last season, Millwall supporters hadn't exactly left a good impression here. There had been shouting, provocation, and even debris thrown between the stands during the match.
There are few clubs in England that welcome the arrival of Millwall's travelling fans.
It was no surprise, then, that the home supporters braced themselves—ready to retaliate at the slightest sign of provocation.
But what they witnessed today left them stunned.
These young Millwall fans stood together, heads held high, and suddenly burst into a team anthem with a pulsing rock rhythm—loud, confident, and perfectly in sync.
"No matter where you go, we will follow you to death!"
"No one likes us, we don't care!"
...
English stadiums, especially the older ones, were never particularly large. As a result, the voices of more than two hundred singing Millwall fans easily carried across the stands of Ayresome Park.
Most Middlesbrough supporters felt a sense of relief.
Let them sing, they thought—as long as they don't cause any trouble, the match can go on.
Soon after, the home crowd responded in kind, and long before the match kicked off, the battle in the stands had already begun, waged through competing chants and club songs.
As the two teams prepared to enter the pitch, Aldridge stood on the touchline and could clearly hear the voices of Millwall's travelling support.
Their anthem, "No one likes us, we don't care," rang out defiantly. As a song, its rhythm and tone were undeniably catchy—but the message carried a combative spirit, an edge of stubborn defiance. It stood in stark contrast to Millwall's fierce rivals, West Ham United, whose supporters were known for singing about blowing bubbles—an optimistic and whimsical refrain.
Perhaps this contrast was part of football's deeper cultural charm.
Since the Second World War, East London had faced economic decline. Compared to the affluence of West London and the thriving communities to the north, the people of Southeast London had come to embody two key traits: unyielding resilience or an unshakable sense of hope.
Middlesbrough's head coach emerged from the tunnel shortly after. Brian Robson appeared in no mood for light-hearted football. Dressed sharply and walking with composure, he made his way straight to the away team's technical area.
It was not uncommon for home managers to greet their visiting counterparts before kickoff—a small show of respect and sportsmanship, particularly between colleagues who shared mutual history.
In this case, with nothing but a standard league fixture between the two clubs, the exchange was purely courteous.
"Mr. Hall, the old man Ferguson told me to keep an eye on you," Robson said with a smile as he extended his hand.
Aldridge smiled back, shook the veteran's hand firmly, and replied in a low voice, "Is that old fox eyeing one of my players again?"
He couldn't imagine Ferguson taking such an interest in Millwall without reason. It was true that Beckham and Neville were on loan from Manchester United, but neither had cracked the starting eleven yet. In fact, with England's strict limit of three substitutes per match, neither had even made the bench in recent games.
Moreover, Manchester United's own form that season had been erratic. Aldridge, who kept tabs on the Premier League, knew the club was going through a transition. If Ferguson had mentioned Millwall to Robson, it was most likely to gather insight on a few emerging talents.
Robson seemed mildly surprised by Aldridge's guess, but he nodded with a grin. "Yes, actually. The old man's been watching Henrik Larsson."
Aldridge raised an eyebrow. The pieces immediately clicked. Manchester United's current strike partnership featured Cantona and Mark Hughes, but the latter was now over 30 and clearly past his prime in terms of finishing. Ferguson needed a new striker. That much was public knowledge.
"What happened to Andy Cole? I thought Ferguson was set on him. Now he's turning to my squad?"
Robson sighed with a resigned expression. "Newcastle's asking price is outrageous. Keegan's not making things easy."
Aldridge nodded. The tension between Kevin Keegan and Alex Ferguson was well known throughout the country. With Keegan's Liverpool roots, it was no surprise he was unwilling to make life easier for United.
Larsson had been outstanding since joining Millwall. His goal return was remarkable, and his performances had even exceeded expectations—despite his significant transfer fee.
Aldridge gave Robson a cheeky wink and lowered his voice. "Well, who knows? By the end of the season, Larsson might be a free agent."
Robson's eyes widened in shock. "What, really? After spending that much on him?"
Aldridge just smiled.
Robson didn't press the matter further. After exchanging one last knowing glance, he returned to the home dugout.
Aldridge remained grinning. If Manchester United wanted to poach players, he couldn't stop them—but he could certainly make things difficult. That included negotiating higher salaries.
If Millwall secured promotion, Larsson's weekly wage would soar into five figures. Aldridge planned to renegotiate contracts across the board next summer. After all, the Bosman ruling was set to take effect at the end of the following year. He needed long-term deals to keep his players under club control.
Meanwhile, Manchester United, now a public company, had tighter salary restrictions. Their financial model was built for corporate shareholders, not runaway payrolls. It was even rumored that Cantona's eventual retirement had something to do with contract disputes over pay.
Tonight's match was the headline event in the First Division. With top spot on the line, and a nationwide television broadcast, the attention was unprecedented.
As the players walked onto the pitch, the match commentator began the team announcements with his usual blend of energy and precision.
"Welcome to Ayresome Park, where tonight's top-of-the-table clash in the First Division sees two of the season's biggest surprises go head-to-head. Last year, Middlesbrough finished ninth, but under the leadership of new manager Brian Robson, they've put together an impressive run—six wins, two draws, and just one defeat through nine rounds. But perhaps the biggest shock has been Millwall. Written off by many pundits before the season began, they were widely tipped for relegation. Yet here they are, level on points with Middlesbrough at the top of the table. Like their opponents, they've lost just once and drawn twice. Offensively, they've been second only to the free-scoring Wolverhampton Wanderers, and defensively they've been rock solid—just two goals conceded in nine matches. It's remarkable. Eighteen-year-old manager Aldridge Hall has guided his team to the summit—what kind of history might he make this season? That's the question on everyone's lips. And tonight's match may give us a few answers."
Aldridge examined Middlesbrough's starting eleven. It was exactly what he had expected during his tactical preparations.
This was the limitation of a manager who built around what was available. Brian Robson didn't have the flexibility to overhaul his side—he simply had to field the strongest, most stable lineup at his disposal.
Middlesbrough lacked high-quality midfielders, but they had plenty of capable defenders. Robson's solution had been to use a five-man back line, pushing his full-backs into advanced positions when possible. This created additional space for midfielders to operate higher up the pitch with fewer restrictions.
It was a pragmatic solution—not ideal, but logical given the personnel. Aldridge had to admit that, in the same situation, he might not have found a better alternative. At this stage in their careers, most of these players were too set in their ways to adapt to new systems or unfamiliar roles.
"Middlesbrough, playing at home tonight in their traditional red shirts, line up with Alan Miller in goal. Their defense features Curtis Fleming, Derek Whyte, Nigel Pearson, Steve Vickers, and Neil Cox. In midfield, it's Clayton Blackmore, Robbie Mustoe, and Craig Hignett. Up front, the strike partnership is John Hendrie and the twenty-year-old Graham Kavanagh."
The camera panned to Millwall, warming up in dark blue.
"Millwall's starting eleven, whose average age is nearly four years younger than their opponents, includes Kasey Keller between the posts. Their back four consists of Lilian Thuram, Gareth Southgate, Jaap Stam, and Lucas Neill. In midfield, they field Bernd Schneider, Claude Makelele, Pavel Nedved, and Robert Pirès. Up front, Henrik Larsson and David Trezeguet lead the line. And it's worth noting—Larsson and Trezeguet are currently the highest-scoring duo in the First Division. Both players are still young, but their chemistry is undeniable. Let's see how they fare against Middlesbrough's disciplined defense. And now, dear viewers, the clash between the league's top two sides is about to begin. Millwall will kick off."
With the sound of the referee's whistle, Trezeguet gently nudged the ball forward, and Larsson rolled it back toward the defense.
The tenth round of the First Division was underway—and so was the battle at the top.