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Translator: uly
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: The Goal is Survival (2)
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Some insiders at Bolton Wanderers weren't too fond of owner Ma Jeong-woo.
The main reason was that he hadn't rushed straight to England after acquiring the club.
Rumors of a quick sale soon followed, leading some to believe the current owner had zero affection for the club...
Local media didn't hold back in reporting the vicious gossip.
[Bolton Wanderers! Owner Ma has no love for the club...!]
[New owner Ma considering a sale right after acquisition...?]
[Great Ma's successor, Jeong-woo Ma, sees the club as just a money pit...!]
The silver lining, if you could call it that.
Most of the staff, excluding a few, showed no reaction to the news.
Repeated defeats had steeped the majority in defeatism.
They'd grown passive as well.
Of course, the current manager, Derek Scott, was aggressively negative.
He downright despised Jeong-woo.
"A punk kid who hasn't even got blood dried on his head...!"
Back in his office, Derek Scott slammed the door with a bang!
He huffed and puffed as he slumped into his executive chair, then snorted derisively.
"Strutting around with his nose in the air, flapping his gums like he owns the place...!"
Just a few weeks ago, his position hadn't been this shaky.
Even as manager of a League Two club, his 3-back tactics had captivated many owners.
Championship and League One sides had been willing to pay release clauses to poach him.
After much deliberation, he'd chosen Bolton Wanderers, then in the Championship.
"The old owner and I got along like a house on fire...!"
The previous owner had been incredibly kind, not to mention pouring in massive investments to secure him.
They'd golfed together, yachted off on trips, and he'd even introduced him to plenty of women along the way.
They'd meshed perfectly on that front.
But this grandson of his was rigid as a board.
"At this rate, it'll be hard to wield more authority than a Manager..."
Scott had taken on the Manager role upon signing with Bolton Wanderers.
But he wasn't just any Manager.
Great Ma had granted him far more leeway than expected.
A good chunk of the current lineup were players he'd personally demanded.
In other words, the previous owner had been the type to approve whatever he asked for, despite the title.
But Ma Jeong-woo was different.
Including this time, they'd met three times, and Scott had repeatedly pushed for signings.
'Right now, Bolton Wanderers is in crisis. Especially with the lowest goals in the 24-team league..., we absolutely need a proven goalscorer...'
'Hold on. Why not try changing tactics? Or give starting spots to underperforming players' alternatives to spark some competition?'
The current owner picked apart every word, offering alternative ideas without hesitation.
Clench—!
"You rotten bastard...!"
The more he thought about it, the tighter his fist clenched.
That smug face kept swimming in his mind.
Truth be told, Scott had been irked from the start that a much younger rookie with barely any soccer experience had become owner.
Still, as Great Ma's grandson, he'd planned to support and follow him to some extent...
"Time to knock some manners into him."
Still fuming, Scott snatched the haphazardly placed phone from his desk.
He planned to leak their recent conversation to a friendly reporter at the Horwich local paper and stir up public opinion.
It was perfect for pinning the team's poor results squarely on the owner.
Plus, it might pressure the owner into pushing through signings.
For a moment, a sinister smile crept across Scott's lips.
'Young punk mouthing off like that. Pathetic. The old owner was too soft on that score. Didn't even realize he was being played. Heh. Anyway...'
Scott's brow furrowed deeply.
'Was planning to snag a yacht before summer hits..., but that brat's thrown a wrench in it.'
* * *
Late evening.
The Horwich local paper dropped a fresh bombshell.
News about Bolton trimming the squad.
Unlike the defeatist insiders, the outside world erupted immediately.
- : Pops up after ghosting for ages just to say you're dumping existing players? You kidding?
- : No way, selling Owen Doyle? For real?
- : Asian guy leaves, another Asian shows up. They're implanting cancer cells in our Bolton!
- : Just sell the damn club! If you can't run the team, sell the club!
- : I'm done with Wanderers. Seriously..., watching this makes me sick.
Ever since Bolton's drop to the Championship, Wanderers fans' discontent had only swelled with time.
Great Ma had stepped in as savior, but when the team fell to League One, protests clogged Bolton Square for days.
Now, squad reduction rumors had the Bolton community sites plastered with vitriol.
"Wow, the official site forum's drowned in curses. What'd it do to deserve that?"
Hee-won, who'd been grinding English studies since setting foot in England, clicked his tongue at the laptop screen.
Fuck stood out in damn near every other comment.
Jeong-woo lounged in the prime spot on the sofa, legs splayed in his signature slouch.
Watching his friend pore over the binder in hand, Hee-won furrowed his brow slightly.
"But isn't the rebuild too aggressive? Not two or three, but six at once? Mid-season, no less..."
It felt excessive.
The news had spread like wildfire through the local press.
Hence the backlash.
[Freak owner's first move: Plans to offload Bolton legends...!]
[New Bolton owner. Previous job: Analyst in some backwater amateur league...?]
It was the leak Derek Scott had fired off.
Jeong-woo knew it.
From the moment it spread so negatively, Scott had popped into his head without needing to grill anyone.
'Guy's got a motormouth, alright.'
But it was bound to leak anyway.
And Jeong-woo was already braced for the hate.
'No need to brace.'
He'd spent most of his life under someone's scorn.
"Especially Owen Doyle."
Hee-won muttered, glancing back at the laptop.
Jeong-woo didn't look up from the binder.
"I know. Nine years of dedication to the club."
Nine years made him a veteran among veterans.
Owen Doyle was practically the team's symbol.
But his wages were outrageous.
"Worst mileage in the game at 5,100 pounds a week—eight million won."
"Even so, benching the captain might stir up some noise, don't you think?"
"It's already noisy."
"Yeah, but."
"He's already catching heat."
"That too, but..."
At thirty-five, Owen Doyle ranked among the top five earners.
Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes slightly at a section in the binder and continued.
"Even hotshots killing it in League One pull about three million won a week. Now, Owen Doyle?"
"Almost three times that."
Jeong-woo nodded faintly and added.
"Plus, just three goals in twenty-six games this season. You think that's acceptable?"
"Dude, that's harsh."
Hee-won flipped his stance at the three-goal stat.
He scrunched his wrinkled face even more and grumbled.
"I could score more than three. Ugh! Three goals—what a joke."
"Nah."
"R-right. No way. Comparing a pro to a normie is stupid anyway. Right?"
Hee-won froze at the instant denial, then quickly conceded.
"Besides Doyle, four others rake in over ten million won weekly."
Jeong-woo tossed the binder onto the table with a thud and grabbed a cup ramen from the Korean mart.
Four minutes later, the noodles were done.
After slurping a mouthful, he said.
"High wages demand high performance. That's Bolton's logic now."
"Since when does Bolton have logic?"
"I made it."
"..."
Doyle and five others were already on the release list.
Now, just wait for offers from other clubs.
Before that,
"Tomorrow, huh."
Jeong-woo murmured over the hot broth.
He'd been too buried in learning about Bolton, planning, and executing to set foot in the stadium yet.
Paperwork overload hadn't helped.
'Fucking swamped.'
Not even time for a smoke.
'Who knew owner was this hectic a gig.'
Of course, he could've taken it easy if he wanted.
By splitting power with the executive director and manager.
But his dive-in personality wouldn't allow it.
And tomorrow.
Bolton faced League One round 27.
Jeong-woo planned to attend in person.
Hee-won leaned back loosely against the sofa.
"Heard another loss drops us to twenty-fourth."
"..."
League One had twenty-four teams.
Lose, and it's dead last.
* * *
Richard Geers was deep in work at his office.
He oversaw and compiled most of the club's operations.
Today too, he was piecing together reports from sales, production, facilities—oddities included—for the owner's final review.
Midway, as he sorted papers, Geers chuckled softly.
"Total opposites."
With final reports under previous ownership, a quick skim earned an OK.
But not the current owner.
He dissected the finals and the process leading to them.
To verify how results were reached.
At first, Geers figured it'd fade.
But observation revealed it was personality—and habit.
That's when.
"Um..."
Geers's bright blue eyes flicked up from the desk papers.
Strategic Planning Manager Charlotte Emma stood there, clutching a binder to her chest.
She hesitated, cheeks flushing faintly, then asked.
"Is the squad reduction plan... something you pushed, Executive Director?"
Richard Geers adjusted his rimless glasses and smiled warmly.
"Why do you ask?"
Charlotte Emma had joined Bolton three years back.
Passionate and skilled, she'd rocketed to manager.
Especially overflowing with love for the club.
'Fifth-generation Bolton supporter, was it.'
She'd proposed the squad-trimming rebuild herself earlier.
Sadly, the old owner had shot it down flat.
Maybe that's why.
Emma opened her mouth, face touched with emotion.
"Thank you... for making it happen!"
Emma was convinced the executive director—not the owner—had driven it.
She was among those wary of the current owner.
Unlike Derek Scott, her beef stemmed mainly from rumors he'd sell the club.
So she figured Geers's influence had sealed this squad move.
'As expected... our Executive Director!'
Geers kept his smiling reply.
"Sorry it took so long to action you and your team's input."
Then added.
"But this is purely the owner's plan."
Have a wonderful day~
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