"This really is a nice place, don't you think, Peter?" Edwards stood at the entrance of the hotel. Although the scorching sun blazed overhead, he was still in excellent spirits.
Having lived in a city like Manchester for so long, arriving in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, naturally felt like a breath of fresh air.
But Edwards clearly was not here just to enjoy the climate. He had other plans as well.
"This is a holiday resort!" Kenyon nodded with a smile.
Edwards laughed heartily, patted Kenyon on the shoulder, and walked out of the hotel. Several armed police officers immediately followed, providing protection.
"You don't need to follow me. Beckham and Roy Keane are inside. They're the ones who need your protection, not me. I'm just going for a walk. Who would want to kidnap me?"
After saying that, Edwards continued forward, with Kenyon following closely behind.
"Peter, besides not having Manchester's year-round rain, there also aren't any annoying Manchester reporters here. Now that I'm here, I can finally breathe the air of freedom!" Edwards seemed to be in a very good mood.
The two walked one after the other through the garden at the hotel entrance. Two reporters were already waiting there, fully prepared. As soon as they saw Edwards, they immediately hurried after him.
When Kenyon saw the reporters' posture, he quickly took a few steps forward and blocked them from getting to Edwards.
"Peter, it's fine. Don't be so nervous. He's my friend!" Edwards smiled, pulled Kenyon aside, and went toward the middle-aged reporter who had arrived first, giving him a hug. "It's good to see you here, Fisher!"
While Kenyon was not paying attention, the reporter named Fisher slipped a note into the pocket of Edwards' suit and lightly patted it. "Me too, Mr. Edwards!"
"Alright, Fisher. Since you've chased me all the way here, I know you won't leave without getting some news. Go ahead!" Edwards pushed up the glasses on his nose and said with a smile.
Hearing this, Fisher immediately signaled to his assistant, who quickly set up the camera and adjusted the angle. Edwards straightened his suit, carrying himself like a refined gentleman.
"Mr. Edwards, first, I would like to ask, why would Manchester United risk offending the FA and travel all the way to Brazil to participate in the Club World Cup? Is it really because FIFA promised that if Manchester United took part, they would support England's bid for the 2006 World Cup?"
Edwards smiled and shook his head. "First, I must clarify that the World Cup bid has nothing to do with the Club World Cup. It's just that when we consulted with the FA, we all agreed that Manchester United's participation in the Club World Cup would help establish England's image in international football, which will obviously be very beneficial to England's bid for the 2006 World Cup."
"So, there really is no tacit understanding between Manchester United, the FA, and FIFA?"
"Absolutely not!" Edwards answered with a smile, but his expression seemed rather ambiguous, which greatly reduced the credibility of his words.
"Then what is Manchester United's goal for this trip to Brazil?"
"Of course, it's the championship, Fisher. You don't doubt that we, as the European Treble winners, have the strength to win, do you?"
"Oh, no. Manchester United are the biggest favourites for this Club World Cup, followed by Real Madrid. However, because of the long journey, time zone differences, and climate changes, Sir Ferguson believes the matches won't be easy."
"That's him being overly cautious!" Edwards said bluntly. "I believe we came to Brazil for the championship. Anything else would be a failure. Only by winning the championship can we better highlight the image of English football!"
After all that, he was still subtly implying that Manchester United had come for England's World Cup bid. Was there really any need to beat around the bush so much?
Fisher felt a little frustrated, but he quickly decided to stop circling around and get straight to the point.
"What about Sir Ferguson's previous claim to the media that many board members invited him to join the board, but you vetoed it? What is your view on this?"
Edwards' smile stiffened, and he paused for a moment, but he soon smiled again. "I don't think there's anything to say about that. I am the chairman of the publicly listed Manchester United company. Every decision I make must be responsible to the company. Board members have the right to invite anyone to join the board, but as chairman, I must consider the company's interests and make decisions."
"So, you believe Sir Ferguson joining the Manchester United board would be detrimental to the club?" Fisher set a trap.
Edwards smiled. "He is the club's manager, and he is doing a good job in that position. I hope he can continue until the day he wants to retire!"
Seeing that Edwards had not fallen for it, Fisher was a little disappointed, but he quickly adjusted his approach and threw out another question.
"Have you heard of the club called New Manchester United? I heard they..." Fisher asked again.
Edwards immediately interrupted him. "Hey, in this world, there is only one Manchester United. I have never heard of any New Manchester United, and I will never acknowledge that fans in this world would run off and establish a brand-new club while still claiming it was out of love for the original club. Everyone knows that's nonsense!"
"So, you don't acknowledge that New Manchester United is a club founded by Manchester United fans?"
"They are not Manchester United fans at all, and they don't deserve to be Manchester United fans. If every Manchester United fan showed their love for the club by running off to build a so-called New Manchester United, then I really have to worry. How many clubs can a city the size of Manchester accommodate?" Edwards sneered with disdain.
"But this club defeated Arsenal in the FA Cup the day before yesterday!"
"Don't forget, we also defeated Arsenal in the league this season. Compared to the league, how much do you think Arsenal value the FA Cup?" Edwards still looked disdainful.
"Then, if New Manchester United draw Manchester United in the fourth round of the FA Cup, what will the Manchester United players and fans' reaction be when New Manchester United visit Old Trafford?"
"No reaction," Edwards answered without thinking. "They're just a team from an amateur league, that's all. We might show mercy after scoring six or seven goals against them, and then perhaps they'll go around bragging to everyone for a long time, saying, 'Ah, we once scored a goal against Manchester United at Old Trafford.' That's typical nouveau riche thinking!"
"But they want to defeat Manchester United at Old Trafford to represent the spirit they inherited from the Newton Heath Green and Gold Army!"
"On what grounds? Does the noble Manchester United spirit need to be represented by an amateur league team?"
"But they are very likely to win promotion to League Two this year!" Fisher seemed to be offering a kind reminder, but in reality, he was fanning the flames.
"But that is only the lowest level of professional football, while Manchester United are the European champions and last year's Treble winners. On what grounds do they represent Manchester United? Just because of someone who isn't even a Manchester United fan?"
Kenyon, standing to the side, knew Edwards' personality well. With the cameras present, he did not dare stop him directly and could only keep signaling with his eyes. However, Edwards, already blinded by the note in his pocket, clearly did not notice.
"Alright, Mr. Edwards, before the fourth-round draw of the FA Cup, do you have anything else to say?"
Edwards thought for a moment. "I don't have much to say. I think if I could choose, I would hope the FA arranges for us to face New Manchester United. I would be very happy to see the team that truly represents the Red Devils' spirit crush those clueless nouveau riche!"
Fisher cheered inwardly. He had gotten what he wanted. This statement alone was enough for his colleagues in England to hype it up extensively.
After all, before the fourth-round draw of the FA Cup, whether Manchester United would meet New Manchester United was definitely the hottest topic being discussed. He firmly believed that once this interview was published, it would take the hype to another level.
"Finally, Mr. Edwards, I would like to ask on behalf of Manchester United fans. I heard that you recently proposed to the Manchester United board that ticket prices at Old Trafford be increased starting next season. Is this true?"
Edwards nodded. "That's right. After we won the Treble last year, we did not raise ticket prices, all for the sake of the fans. But this year, the situation is a bit different. First, Keane received a significant pay rise. To provide better football for the fans to enjoy, and also for the club to achieve further glory, we are in the process of bringing in some big-name stars, such as Rivaldo from Barça and PSV Eindhoven's star striker from the Netherlands, Van Nistelrooy."
"With the club's performances getting better and better, and with more and more stars in the squad, we believe the seats at Old Trafford will also become more valuable. So we are indeed considering raising ticket prices to offset the club's spending on wage increases and new signings."
"But the stands at Old Trafford will be expanded at the end of the season, increasing the capacity to 67,000. Many fans believe the ticket revenue from the additional seats should be enough to cover these expenses. Besides, the club has been profitable for the past few years."
"That is exactly why we need to continue being profitable. We are a publicly listed company. In the stock market, people will never look only at your performances on the pitch. They care more about your profitability. Only by maintaining a stable, or even rising, share price in the stock market can the club better serve the fans, right?"
Fisher smiled after hearing this. He really wanted to say no, because he knew Edwards had been secretly planning to sell his shares in Manchester United, and the almost-sale to Murdoch was proof of that.
However, as someone who often dealt with Edwards, Fisher knew that if he asked that question, it would inevitably anger this Manchester United heavyweight, so he wisely chose to keep smiling.
"Alright, Fisher, I need to go back and get some rest to adjust to the jet lag!" Edwards gave Fisher an ambiguous look, and the latter immediately understood, signaling to his assistant to pack up the equipment.
(To be continued.)