The Greatest Manager of All time

From the outside, Swansea's Cromwell and James Cook looked like zero-cost players.

They had not cost Swansea anything in transfer fees, and their current wages were not particularly high either.

If a Second Division club wanted to focus on developing them, they would still be willing to offer a fairly valuable contract to tempt them away.

Lynn's expression remained calm as he said to Rona Whelan, "Thank you very much for the information. I'll agree to your request for an exclusive interview, but not now. Let's do it after the season ends. After all, Swansea hasn't won anything yet. There isn't much worth discussing in an exclusive interview at the moment."

Rona Whelan thought about it, then nodded in agreement.

Then she said, "But I want to know the real inside story of how Swansea deals with Second Division clubs trying to poach your players. Whether the transfers happen or not, I want to receive the news first."

Lynn nodded. "No problem."

After ending his meeting with Rona Whelan, Lynn looked weighed down with thoughts on his way back.

He should have been mentally prepared for this long ago.

Swansea were only in the Third Division. Bigger clubs wanting to take Swansea's good players away was completely normal. Even top clubs often had to deal with other teams trying to poach their players.

Fortunately, Swansea were only a Third Division club right now, so they had not yet attracted the attention of top-flight clubs.

Otherwise, with the pull, financial strength, and temptation of playing at the highest level, Swansea's hopes of keeping hold of their talents would have become very slim.

Last summer, he had only just signed or renewed contracts with the players in the squad. Right now, Lynn could only watch how things developed.

He also wanted to see how the players would react when other clubs extended olive branches during the transfer window.

Before the January 6 Third Division match arrived, Lynn welcomed a visitor in his club office.

A man in his forties, dressed in a distinctly British style, stood before Lynn and introduced himself.

"Mr. Lynn, hello. I'm Gavin Ward from SFX. I've accepted a commission to discuss player transfers with Swansea."

Lynn took the business card from him and looked it over.

The other man was not from some small-time outfit. In fact, his agency could be called famous.

SFX, the agency that served Beckham, one of the biggest stars in British and even world football.

Recently, there had been rumors that Beckham and SFX might part ways, but no matter what, SFX's influence in English football could not be underestimated.

They had successfully handled Beckham's career, especially helping him climb out of the low point caused by the negative impact of his red card at the 1998 World Cup.

Not only had Beckham been accepted and recognized by fans again, his career had also become more brilliant than ever.

Of course, that also had much to do with Manchester United's glorious achievements in England and Europe after 1998. The miraculous treble in 1999 had been one of the great peaks of Ferguson's time in charge of the Red Devils.

After shaking hands with Gavin Ward, Lynn sat down and got straight to the point.

"Which club are you representing?"

With a confident air, Gavin Ward said calmly, "In fact, I represent several clubs. We have accepted commissions from three clubs. Port Vale would like to sign Cromwell from Swansea. Stoke City would like to sign Charisteas. Brentford would like to sign James Cook."

Lynn nodded thoughtfully.

Rona Whelan's information had been accurate.

Sure enough, a transfer intermediary had come knocking soon afterward, and the clubs he represented matched Whelan's information exactly.

Lynn asked curiously, "Why don't they send a faxed offer directly to Swansea? Why hire an agency to handle the transfer? That requires an extra fee and increases the cost of the deal."

Gavin Ward smiled and said, "Mr. Lynn, in front of you, I'll be very honest about the truth. Considering what happened to you more than half a year ago—"

"Be specific."

Lynn interrupted him without any politeness.

He did not want to hear someone claim they were being honest, only to speak in vague and evasive terms.

Gavin Ward did not mind. He said lightly, "Very well. Specifically speaking, Stoke City chairman Peter Coates once publicly said, after you went to them looking for work, that he hoped you would go clean the toilets at Stoke City. That made your relationship with them extremely poor. He is worried that if the club approaches directly, this transfer will definitely fail."

"Port Vale chairman Norman Smurthwaite also once made some inappropriate remarks targeting you, remarks with a clear racial undertone. His concerns are the same as Coates's."

"As for Brentford, as far as I know, they have no conflict with you. At least after you applied to them, Brentford merely chose silence and gave no reply. That's normal. In the outside world, when young people send out a hundred job applications, at least ninety receive no response."

"But because Swansea will soon face Brentford in the Football League Trophy semi-final, the competitive relationship between the two clubs will become very sharp in the near future. Brentford chairman Cliff Boya wants to complete the player transfer before the Football League Trophy semi-final to avoid the difficulty of the transfer increasing due to all kinds of resistance after the two sides meet."

"For the sake of efficiency, he hired SFX to act as the negotiating representative."

After listening to Gavin Ward, Lynn fell into thought.

Whether it was Swansea or Lynn himself, they had never really had anything to do with Brentford.

But because they were about to meet in the Football League Trophy, a competitive relationship had now formed between a Third Division club and a Second Division club.

Brentford wanted to complete the transfer before the 15th because they wanted to avoid a rivalry created purely by a domestic cup tie being exaggerated by the media and the match itself, eventually obstructing the deal.

Cliff Boya's concerns were perfectly reasonable.

As for Stoke City chairman Peter Coates, the words he had once used to publicly humiliate Lynn surfaced in Lynn's mind again.

"We're very willing to help disadvantaged groups. For someone mentally disabled like Lynn, Stoke City would be merciful enough to give him a job and fulfill his football dream. The club toilets haven't been looked after recently. It's a simple job. If Lynn can clean Stoke City's toilets until they're spotless, we'll allow him to stand by the training ground and watch our team train. We welcome his arrival!"

A disdainful sneer curled at the corner of Lynn's mouth.

Peter Coates probably still did not know that Lynn's personal wealth was more than ten times his own!

But this kind of humiliation did not have much to do with money. At the time, almost the entire English football world had joined the trend of mocking Lynn.

Everyone treated him like a clown and toyed with him as they pleased.

Port Vale chairman Norman Smurthwaite, meanwhile, had responded to Lynn's job application with a condescending sense of racial superiority. Not only had he insulted Lynn, his words had also carried obvious racism.

"Someone yellow like Lynn should be deported by the British government immediately!"

That actually represented Norman Smurthwaite's attitude toward immigrants. It was just that he had misunderstood Lynn. Strictly speaking, Lynn was not an immigrant. His nationality had never changed from beginning to end.

Gavin Ward looked at Lynn and quietly waited for him to finish thinking.

He knew Lynn needed a little time to digest this.

Once Lynn ended his recollection, he raised his head and looked at Gavin Ward.

"Since you know the problems or conflicts they have with Swansea—no, with me—then why accept this commission?"

Gavin Ward smiled and said, "We enjoy challenging work, Mr. Lynn. Let's negotiate openly. If Swansea will not sell players no matter what, then we can end this meaningless conversation here."

"Of course, I also hope you understand that we will still try to contact the players. Although both the FA and UEFA forbid transfer operations like that, it is an unspoken rule of the transfer market. SFX hopes to build a friendly working relationship with Swansea, so I will make everything clear to avoid a situation where you later misunderstand or misinterpret our sincerity."

Lynn laughed silently.

No matter how he listened to it, Gavin Ward's words sounded grand and respectable on the surface.

If you sell, we do business.

If you don't sell, I'll privately tempt your players. Don't mind it. It's an unspoken rule.

With a faintly mocking smile, Lynn said, "What touching sincerity."

Gavin Ward tilted his head slightly and said, "At least we're doing this openly rather than in secret. That would surely make you very unhappy."

"So now I should be reasonable and consider all of this normal?"

"Even the best clubs in the world sometimes bypass the club and contact players first when handling transfers. The longer you stay in this industry, the more you'll be able to accept situations like this."

Lynn leaned back and remained silent for a long while.

Then he said, "Let me think about it."

Gavin Ward stood and extended his hand to Lynn again.

"Of course. If you have any demands or conditions, please tell us honestly."

After shaking hands with him, Lynn watched Gavin Ward leave.

The reason SFX was being so polite was definitely that they had seen the potential benefits in Swansea. For example, if Villa and Ibrahimović, who were considered the most valuable players by outsiders, entered the market and SFX could get involved in handling their transfers, the intermediary fees they could collect would certainly be very considerable.

So for now, they wanted to establish a good relationship with Lynn and Swansea.

But the work they had to do would still be done.

That very evening, Gavin Ward visited Cromwell.

Jennifer Cromwell's holiday was about to end, so she was cherishing her final bit of time at home by mercilessly bullying her younger brother, Oliver Cromwell.

Gavin Ward's visit had another purpose besides handling transfer matters.

Cromwell sat opposite Ward in the living room at home. After hearing Ward say that Port Vale were interested in signing him, Cromwell racked his brain for a long time before asking in return, "What club is Port Vale?"

There were hundreds of clubs, large and small, in England.

Although Cromwell had excellent football talent, he was not a devout football believer.

Of course he would not know English football inside and out.

Other people might be able to list dozens of football clubs as if reciting treasured family possessions, but aside from Swansea's current opponents, Cromwell only knew those famous giants and traditional strong teams.

Gavin Ward patiently introduced Port Vale to Cromwell. He told him that Port Vale were a Second Division club from Staffordshire in the west of England.

Their performance in the Second Division this season had been stable. Although they no longer seemed likely to challenge for the top three, they had not suffered any major turbulence either.

After listening, Cromwell said, "Sorry, I'm not interested."

Cromwell felt that everything about Swansea was good. He was not the kind of person who would casually change environments. Otherwise, with his archaeologist and geologist parents spending at least ten months a year away from home, he could easily have followed them around the world.

Gavin Ward did not force it. He had only come to test the player's attitude.

He then said, "Don't you at least want to hear what kind of contract Port Vale would offer you?"

Cromwell actually did want to hear it.

But only to hear it.

"Then tell me."

"Compared with your contract at Swansea, your weekly wage would increase by twenty-five percent, and your bonuses would double."

"Oh. All right. I know now. Is there anything else?"

Gavin Ward could not see through this sunny boy at all.

He always felt this child was curious about everything, yet not the type to be easily tempted.

Gavin Ward smiled at him and said, "I heard you don't yet have a professional agent to manage your day-to-day affairs. You're a player with great potential and potential commercial value. A bright future will bring fame and fortune one after another. If you have a professional agent or team helping you handle off-pitch activities, your income will rise significantly. You know Becks, right?"

Becks was Beckham's nickname.

Cromwell nodded.

Gavin Ward said, "He can earn three million pounds a year from one contract, and that only takes him ten working days. SFX has rich experience, mature ability in managing star players, and broad market channels and resources. If you are willing to entrust SFX with handling all of this for you, then I believe you will only need to focus on playing football well. Leave the rest to us. Within ten years, you could be known all over the world."

Cromwell's mouth opened slightly, as if he had been stunned.

Gavin Ward was painting a grand picture for Cromwell. Talking about becoming world-famous to a Third Division player was ridiculous enough, but it could still fool young kids.

And in the eyes of many forty-year-old men, Cromwell was still just a boy who had barely grown up.

Unfortunately, Gavin Ward had underestimated Cromwell's life experience. Having taken care of himself from a very young age, Cromwell stood up directly to see him out.

"Wow, what you said is way too frightening. Earning three million pounds in ten days? That's so enviable! And I could become world-famous too? Sorry, but I'm not Becks's long-lost brother, and I'm not Zidane either. You've got the wrong person. Ahhh, how strange. I'm already sleepy at eight o'clock. You should go back and get some rest too. I won't see you out. Bye-bye!"

Cromwell said he would not see him out, but in the end, he practically pushed Gavin Ward out the door.

Standing outside and looking at the closed door, Gavin Ward did not know whether to laugh or cry.

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