The Greatest Manager of All time

Kevin Keegan's arrival at Manchester City gave the Blue Moon supporters a shot of confidence.

Whether in terms of his prestige from his playing days or his résumé as a manager, Keegan taking charge of Manchester City carried a certain sense of a big name lowering himself to take on a lesser job. Precisely because of that, the Manchester City board handed him a very generous transfer budget to strengthen the squad.

After his brief spell of glory at Newcastle United ended in a fall from the heights, Keegan's time with the England national team had been a complete failure. After that Waterloo, Manchester City became the springboard for his comeback, so he treated this job with absolute seriousness.

By the end of May, he was already working intensely inside the club, planning his transfer business.

Keegan was a manager who worshipped attacking football. During the season when Newcastle United had come closest to winning the Premier League title, he had lost to Ferguson—or rather, Newcastle had ultimately fallen short—mainly because their defense had collapsed at crucial moments. Fleet Street had used that to mock Keegan ever since: his teams didn't know how to defend!

That flaw could not be fixed overnight. After taking office, the first thing Keegan wanted to rebuild was Manchester City's attack.

So he was searching for good forwards.

Inside his office, he was going through the player profiles on the club's transfer list. At the moment, the two strikers the club had the best chance of signing were Berkovic from Blackburn and Macken from Preston.

Then the phone rang. Keegan picked it up.

"Kevin, someone is here to see you. He says his name is Gavin Ward, and he represents SFX."

Keegan thought for a moment, then said, "Let him in."

He had no real impression of Gavin Ward, but SFX was different. As a manager who had coached the England national team, there was no way he wouldn't know them. They were the agency representing England's biggest star, Beckham, so naturally they had dealings with the national team.

A minute later, Gavin Ward, dressed in a sharp suit, knocked on the door and entered. After shaking Keegan's hand, he sat down and went straight to the point.

"Kevin, I know you're looking for strikers, so I'm here to recommend the players you want."

Kevin Keegan smiled. "Every agent who walks into my office says that. The problem is, there aren't many truly good strikers in the world. It's not easy to find the next Shearer or Andy Cole."

Gavin Ward carried himself with absolute confidence. He took a videotape out of his briefcase and said, "Once you've watched this, you'll know that the next SAS strike partnership you're looking for is right here."

Kevin Keegan only smiled as he took the tape. He said nothing more. Rising from his seat, he put the tape in and stood in front of the television with his arms crossed.

The footage showed Swansea's strikers in the Third Division and cup competitions, focusing mainly on Villa and Ibrahimović.

After only ten seconds, Kevin Keegan could no longer look away.

There was no denying that the edit itself was excellent. Goal after goal flashed across the screen—ordinary goals, strange goals, brilliant goals, almost magical goals!

Villa and Ibrahimović scored in every possible way. They were scoring like machines.

After Keegan finished watching the full hour-long tape, he fell into a long silence.

As someone who had once won Footballer of the Year during his playing career, Keegan could perhaps understand better than most what certain technical actions on the pitch represented.

Of course, he could also see that the opponents these two players faced were not particularly strong. Even so, considering their youth, their futures were clearly limitless.

Not just anyone could score more than thirty goals in a season, even in the Third Division. Yet Villa and Ibrahimović had both done it!

And Villa's total had reached fifty goals for the season!

That had attracted the attention of many stronger clubs, but everyone was still reluctant to write the cheque. In the end, it was the Third Division, not the Premier League. If they had done this in the First Division, even the Premier League giants might have taken the gamble.

But Manchester City were not in the Premier League.

Next season, Manchester City would be playing in the First Division!

Because of that, Kevin Keegan's desire for talent was instantly stirred. He turned to Gavin Ward and said, "I want both of them! Even if getting both is impossible, either one will do!"

"That can be arranged. Manchester City can handle the club-to-club work, and we'll find someone to handle the players' side. Once it's done, SFX will only take a five percent transfer commission."

Gavin Ward said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Kevin Keegan had seen enough of the game to treat such things as ordinary. He nodded. "No problem!"

Gavin Ward left Manchester City satisfied.

After getting into his car, he took out his phone.

"You can make contact with Villa and Ibrahimović now. Do everything possible to convince them to join Manchester City!"

After hanging up, Gavin Ward's face filled with a broad smile. It was as if he could already see Lynn thrown into chaos, and Villa and Ibrahimović carrying their luggage out of the Liberty Stadium while Lynn stood there heartbroken.

"Lynn, Swansea... just wait to be carved apart!"

Gavin Ward continuously recommended Swansea's players to other clubs. Although he did not represent any Swansea players, he could still earn a middleman's fee by connecting the parties. Of course, all of that depended on the deals going through smoothly.

Villa had returned to Spain, but his parents remained in Swansea because their small supermarket was still running. His parents did not want to close the shop. One less day of business meant one less day of income.

One evening, someone from SFX came to Villa's home.

Villa was not there, but the representative sat down for a long conversation with his parents.

First, he laid out Manchester City's offer.

If Villa transferred to Manchester City, his salary would increase by 150 percent. On top of that, Villa would play under Kevin Keegan and compete in the First Division. Barring any surprises, they had a strong chance of returning to the Premier League after one year and playing top-flight football.

When Villa's parents heard this, they were immediately interested. Afterward, they called Villa at once and urged him to join Manchester City!

But after hearing them out, Villa instead said, "Kevin Keegan was a successful player. He's an idol to many people. But his managerial career hasn't been especially successful. I don't want to go to Manchester City. The Second Division and First Division are only one level apart. In a year, Swansea will also be in the First Division! Manchester City? I'm not going."

His father tried hard to persuade him, but Villa did not waver. In the end, his father could only sigh alone in his room.

Ibrahimović had returned to Malmö, his hometown in Sweden.

When an SFX agent came to visit his family and told him Manchester City were interested in signing him, Ibrahimović fell into thought.

He did not have the awareness of someone who would live and die for Swansea. He had grown up in the slums. He had been a thief and fought on the streets. He understood the rules of survival better than most.

As for something like loyalty, that was not very practical.

After considering Manchester City's offer and the club's overall competitiveness, he needed Kevin Keegan's promise!

One day later, Kevin Keegan personally called Ibrahimović and clearly guaranteed him a starting position in the team. Ibrahimović then agreed without hesitation that he would request a transfer from the club.

Since the offseason began, Swansea had been receiving transfer offers from most clubs in the Second Division, and the club rejected them all without exception. Most of the time, the staff only needed to glance at the fax before refusing.

If a club asked about a player's price, Swansea would reply: Sorry, not for sale.

But if the fax contained a direct offer, anything under £2 million did not even need consideration. It was rejected on the spot.

Then, on June 1, the day marking Lynn's first anniversary since taking over Swansea, a faxed offer from First Division side Manchester City shook the club.

£5 million for Ibrahimović!

Lynn was inside the club, reading scouting reports. When he saw Manchester City's offer, he was just about to tell Tony Benn to reject it when his phone rang.

Lynn saw the caller ID. It was Ibrahimović.

At once, Lynn sensed something was wrong.

Ibrahimović's call and Manchester City's faxed offer had come too close together. When something was this unusual, there had to be a reason.

Lynn pressed the answer button with an uneasy heart and smiled as he said, "Zlatan, how's your holiday? Where are you having fun?"

"Boss, I'm back home. There's something I want to talk to you about."

Lynn was holding Manchester City's faxed offer in his hand. His expression had already turned cold, but his tone remained gentle.

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"Boss, I want to transfer. Manchester City are very sincere about me. Kevin Keegan will give me a starting position, and I'll be playing in the First Division. I want to go to a bigger stage. I don't think the Second Division will be any challenge for me."

The hand Lynn used to hold the phone slowly tightened. He forced down the negative emotions and said calmly, "Zlatan, you're still very young. More polishing now will be good for your future. I don't deny that Manchester City are a bigger club than Swansea, but that's only true right now.

"If you believe in me, I'll let you see Swansea reach the Premier League at the fastest possible speed. Our stage in the future will be bigger than any club's. You should stay at Swansea. You're a star here. You know this place, and you'll become stronger here.

"Kevin Keegan? He'll only ruin you. During the most important period of your growth, you need a more stable environment. Swansea has people who support you, fans who support you. Everyone here likes you. Your challenge is on the pitch. You don't need to face any other difficulties!"

After Lynn finished speaking, the other end of the line remained silent.

Only after almost two minutes did a voice finally come through.

Ibrahimović's deep, rough voice made Lynn's scalp tighten.

"Boss, it looks like you don't understand me. I don't need to play house at Swansea, surrounded by some cozy atmosphere where everyone is nice to each other, and then call that satisfaction.

"I am Zlatan Ibrahimović.

"I should be standing on the biggest stage. Yes, maybe Swansea will go up to the First Division next year, but maybe next summer I'll transfer again. I'll go to a championship team. I'll play in the Champions League! Why would that be impossible? I believe I have unlimited possibilities.

"I don't want comfortable satisfaction to kill those unlimited possibilities inside me!

"Sorry, Boss. I insist on leaving."

When Lynn heard Ibrahimović's words, he almost wanted to smash the phone against the wall.

But he still suppressed his anger and said, "Zlatan, you have no idea how much I've invested in you. Do you think your rapid improvement this season was all because of yourself? Don't ignore the effort of the people who developed you! Don't disappoint everyone's expectations!"

"Boss, we live in the real world. When you took me from Malmö, why didn't you tell me to consider everything Malmö had done to develop me? I spent five years at Malmö!"

"Because Malmö saw the money and opened their hands! They were the ones who sold you first. Manchester City have offered £5 million now! In my eyes, that price can't even buy one of your legs!"

"So, in that case, it's just that the price isn't right, isn't it? Boss, please let me go. I want to go to a big club."

Lynn laughed in anger.

"Heh... a big club? Manchester City is a fucking big club? Fine. Compared to Swansea, Manchester City really is a big club. Zlatan, pack your bags and get the hell out!"

Beep, beep, beep...

The line went dead.

Bang!

This time, Lynn truly threw the phone. It smashed against the wall and shattered into pieces.

He lowered his head and stared at Manchester City's faxed offer, his eyes burning with fury.

No one knew how much effort he had poured into Ibrahimović.

When he thought of how, at the very beginning, he had poured his best cards into Ibrahimović all at once—cards earned at the cost of the whole team's victories—and had chosen Ibrahimović first so he could grow rapidly, only to receive such heartless betrayal in return...

Lynn could not accept it!

He was so angry he wanted to destroy everything!

"Boss."

Tony Benn had listened to Lynn's entire side of the phone call. Judging from Lynn's words and reaction, he could guess how determined Ibrahimović was to leave.

It made him sigh inwardly.

Back when he had been Swansea's CEO, he knew just how powerless and helpless small clubs could be when bigger clubs came to steal their players.

But no player being lured away from under his watch had ever cut as deeply as this.

Ibrahimović—the striker worshipped by countless Swansea fans.

Was he really leaving?

After Lynn calmed down, he sat in his chair and took several deep breaths. Then he looked up at Tony Benn and said coldly, "Let him go! Swansea can lose anyone and still keep moving forward. We'll only get better and better, because I'm still here! Make Manchester City bleed a little more!"

Tony Benn nodded and immediately went to begin negotiations with Manchester City.

Lynn sat in his seat, staring coldly at the faxed offer. Then he picked up the desk phone and called Walter Raleigh.

Walter Raleigh of the South Wales Argus had just answered Lynn's call when he laughed and said, "Lynn, who are Swansea's transfer targets? Give me a hint."

"Walter, Swansea's transfer business is confidential. But Swansea are about to complete a major deal."

"Hm? What is it?" Raleigh's voice immediately turned serious.

"Ibrahimović will transfer to Manchester City."

"Why?"

"Because he wants to leave. He wants a bigger stage! That's why I called you. I don't want you to smear him, but I need the fans to know this wasn't the club seeing money and selling out. It was the player himself who insisted on leaving!"

"Alright, I understand. Lynn, do you want to come out for a drink tonight? Something like this must feel awful."

"Fine. Tonight, then. EK Bar by the River Tawe."

After hanging up, Lynn suddenly gave a bitter laugh.

Even a journalist could tell his mood must be terrible and show him some concern.

But Ibrahimović, who had spent every day with him, was leaving just like that!

After that bitter laugh, Lynn suddenly kicked the desk and roared, "FUCK!"

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