Red Rebels: The New Manchester United

Ethan had always treated the club's wage structure as one of the most important parts of New Manchester United's financial management.

English tax rates meant that headline salaries rarely told the whole story. Top earners could lose a substantial proportion of their income to tax, so the club's commercial and financial advisers worked closely with players and their representatives to structure contracts, image-rights income and other legitimate earnings as efficiently as possible.

Beckham, like many leading players, operated some of his commercial income through companies established for that purpose.

New Manchester United also employed specialist advisers to make sure players understood how their football wages, bonuses, sponsorship income and image rights fitted together.

As a result, the club's published salary figures could sometimes look modest beside those of its rivals, while the players themselves remained extremely well compensated.

That expertise was one reason the commercial department's senior specialists were paid so highly.

Manchester City faced a very different situation.

Backed by Abu Dhabi money and determined to establish themselves as a major force as quickly as possible, they were far less concerned with maintaining a conservative wage structure.

Their priority was influence.

Attention.

Players capable of changing how the rest of Europe viewed them.

And they had just made their most dramatic move yet.

Manchester City had offered £100 million for David Beckham.

The proposed contract was equally astonishing.

£150,000 a week after tax.

Depending on how the agreement was structured, the gross cost to the club could approach £250,000 a week, equivalent to roughly £13 million a year before tax.

It would make Beckham the highest-paid footballer in the world.

The transfer fee itself would destroy the existing record.

Zidane's move to Real Madrid had once seemed almost impossible to surpass.

Manchester City were proposing to go far beyond it.

For days, the British press had been full of stories claiming City wanted Beckham and several other New Manchester United players.

The £100 million figure had already appeared in multiple newspapers.

Ethan had no doubt the information had been leaked deliberately.

Manchester City wanted pressure.

The newspapers wanted headlines.

The arrangement suited both sides perfectly.

Ethan glanced at the fax once.

Then, in front of a stunned Andy Walsh and several other executives, he tore it in half.

Then in half again.

The pieces went straight into the bin.

"Next time, you don't need to wait for me," Ethan said.

His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

"We are not a club that survives by selling its best players."

He looked at Walsh.

"And financially, we're not exactly helpless ourselves."

Walsh gave a slightly embarrassed nod.

He had to admit that the number had unsettled him.

£100 million.

Almost anyone in football would have hesitated when confronted with a figure like that.

It was difficult even to comprehend.

Manchester City had not chosen Beckham by accident.

He was the biggest name in the sport, the reigning Ballon d'Or winner and FIFA World Player of the Year.

His commercial value alone could recover a meaningful proportion of the investment.

And if City could take him directly from their most successful local rival, the symbolic impact would be enormous.

Arnesen's strategy was obvious.

It echoed the Galáctico logic Florentino Pérez had used at Real Madrid.

Buy the star.

Buy the attention.

Buy the global audience.

But New Manchester United were not Barcelona in 2000.

And Ethan had no intention of playing along.

He rejected most of the remaining bids almost as quickly.

Real Madrid, AC Milan and the other elite clubs with whom he maintained genuine working relationships rarely operated this way anyway. If one of them seriously wanted a New Manchester United player, senior figures usually spoke to Ethan directly before allowing formal paperwork to circulate.

Only one case made him stop.

Walsh noticed.

"That one is different."

Ethan looked up.

"Yaya?"

Walsh nodded.

"Two days before Manchester City's Beckham offer arrived, Yaya Touré submitted a formal transfer request."

Ethan frowned slightly.

"He wants guarantees about his role. If he can't establish himself as a regular first-team player here, he'd prefer to leave."

Walsh continued.

"Van Gaal is very interested. From what we've been told, he contacted Yaya personally."

That did not surprise Ethan.

"What did he promise?"

"A major role in midfield. And roughly double what Yaya earns here."

Walsh tapped the document.

"City have offered £12 million."

That was more complicated.

Ethan had expected Manchester City to target Essien or De Rossi.

They had also made an approach for Michael Johnson.

Yaya, however, had stayed out of most of the public speculation.

Yet the move made sense.

His place in Mourinho's strongest eleven was uncertain.

Essien and De Rossi had been excellent whenever available, leaving Yaya with fewer minutes than he wanted.

But nobody doubted his ability.

He had already shown his quality in the Premier League and in international football with Ivory Coast.

At only 21, he also possessed substantial professional experience for his age.

For Manchester City, he was exactly the kind of player worth pursuing.

Essien and De Rossi had both already informed New Manchester United that they had rejected approaches from City and wanted to stay.

Yaya's situation was different.

A starting place.

Twice the money.

A manager personally telling him he would be important.

For a young midfielder frustrated by limited opportunities, that was difficult to ignore.

"What does José think?" Ethan asked.

"He hasn't explicitly asked us to sell," Walsh replied. "But he did say Michael Johnson and Mikel are both ready to take on more responsibility."

Ethan leaned back.

Sometimes a club could fight to keep a player.

Sometimes keeping him against his wishes merely delayed the inevitable.

He sighed.

"All right."

He looked towards Mark Davey.

Davey understood immediately.

"I'll deal with it."

Player sales and negotiations normally passed through the commercial department.

And Mark Davey had developed a formidable reputation.

Across European football, agents and sporting directors regarded negotiating with him as an exhausting experience. If Manchester City wanted Yaya Touré, they would pay properly for him.

The decision was made.

Yaya could leave.

After discussing several other matters, Ethan asked Walsh for an update on the first team.

Before long, his secretary returned.

"The coaching staff and players are all in the meeting room."

Ethan stood.

"Good."

The meeting had been called at short notice.

Every first-team player attended.

So did Mourinho's coaching staff, representatives from the Lab and senior personnel from several football departments.

The room was full of low conversation until the door opened.

Ethan entered with Walsh and Davey.

The noise stopped almost immediately.

For reasons none of them could quite explain, simply seeing him seemed to settle the room.

Ethan had been away in the United States while the club's form deteriorated.

Now he was back.

But his expression offered little comfort.

Normally, he would greet players and staff as he walked past.

Not today.

He looked angry.

Very angry.

He reached the front of the room and began without ceremony.

"I'm going to Manchester Royal Infirmary later to see Arjen."

Everyone knew immediately where this was going.

"I hate the fact that he's going to miss the next six months."

Ethan looked towards the Lab staff.

"Tell me one thing first. Is there any risk this injury causes long-term problems?"

Professor Fryer shook his head.

"We don't believe so."

He spoke carefully.

"We've already designed a complete rehabilitation programme. In fact, we're deliberately taking the conservative option with his return. That's why we've ruled him out for the rest of the season."

"So no lasting damage?"

"Assuming rehabilitation proceeds normally, no."

Some of the tension left Ethan's expression.

Only some.

"Then explain something to me."

The room became quiet again.

"Why was he allowed to play at Liverpool?"

Nobody answered immediately.

"We knew before the match that he was carrying fatigue and discomfort in his left thigh."

Ethan's voice sharpened.

"Under our own medical criteria, he should have been rested."

He looked directly at Fryer.

"Who cleared him?"

Several members of the Lab glanced towards Mourinho.

Mourinho did not avoid the attention.

"I pushed for him to play," he said.

"The Liverpool match was important. I wanted him available."

A few people expected Ethan to turn on Mourinho.

Instead, he looked back at Professor Fryer.

"Then this is your responsibility."

Fryer stiffened.

Ethan continued.

"We established these rules together for a reason."

"The final decision on whether a player is medically fit belongs to the Lab."

He pointed towards Fryer.

"Not to the manager. Not to me. Not to the player."

"If José asks for someone who isn't fit, your job is to say no."

His tone was severe.

"I don't want a performance department that tells the manager what he wants to hear. I want one that protects the players."

Professor Fryer nodded slowly.

Ethan was right.

He had known Robben should probably not play.

He had allowed Mourinho to persuade him anyway.

Whatever internal disciplinary action followed, he would accept it.

Ethan then turned towards the players.

His eyes settled first on Curtis.

"Three red cards in four league matches."

He allowed the number to sit in the room.

"All three were avoidable."

Nobody moved.

"Can someone explain that to me?"

Silence.

"Curtis?"

Curtis kept his head down.

Nothing.

"Michael?"

Essien shifted slightly in his seat but said nothing.

"Didier?"

Drogba stared at the floor.

"Anything you want to say about that challenge at Anfield?"

No response.

Ethan nodded once.

"Good."

Several players looked up, surprised.

"At least you're not making excuses."

His expression remained hard.

"But there will still be consequences. José and I will discuss the disciplinary measures afterwards."

From there, Ethan moved through the rest of the club's recent problems.

The first team.

The coaching staff.

The Lab.

Training discipline.

Match preparation.

Decision-making.

Recovery.

Everyone received criticism.

Almost every department had contributed something to the slump.

One person, however, was conspicuously absent from Ethan's criticism.

Mourinho.

Not once during the entire meeting did Ethan address him directly.

When it finally ended, everyone was dismissed.

Walsh left.

Davey left.

The coaches and players filed out.

Mourinho was asked to remain.

Soon the enormous meeting room contained only two people.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then Ethan broke the silence.

"My trip to America went well."

Mourinho looked at him.

Ethan spoke almost casually.

"We've finalised the summer commercial programme."

"In addition to the matches themselves, there's going to be a charity event. Brad Pitt, George Clooney and several other American celebrities are putting together a team for a charity match against us."

Mourinho said nothing.

"The sponsors are very interested. So are the broadcasters."

Ethan continued.

"Audi are backing the main tournament. We'll be there with AC Milan, Real Madrid and Ajax."

The four clubs would take part in an Audi-sponsored pre-season competition, one of the most ambitious steps New Manchester United had yet taken into the American market.

The Red Rebels were driving the project.

Real Madrid and AC Milan had provided immediate credibility.

Ajax added another internationally recognised name.

Multiple commercial partners were already committed.

Ethan still sounded conversational.

"And Goal! finally has a release date."

Mourinho's expression tightened slightly.

"We'll still be in the United States when it premieres. The producers asked whether the team could attend."

"I agreed."

Ethan smiled faintly.

"That film is going to introduce New Manchester United to an enormous audience that barely knows us now."

Mourinho was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

The calmer Ethan sounded, the worse it felt.

He understood exactly what was happening.

Ethan had criticised almost everyone in front of the squad.

He had said nothing about Mourinho.

Because this conversation was different.

Mourinho knew he had been the first person to lose his composure.

The Manchester City draw had got inside his head.

Van Gaal had got inside his head.

And once Mourinho became tense, the team followed him there.

That was the uncomfortable truth.

For years, Mourinho's sides had been defined by stability.

They rarely collapsed emotionally.

They rarely suffered dramatic swings in form.

Now a team that had looked almost untouchable had fallen from its highest level to its lowest in only a few weeks.

The squad had not suddenly become weaker.

That much was obvious.

Too many major clubs were trying to buy these players for anyone to question their talent.

So the problem had to be elsewhere.

Mental.

Emotional.

And Ethan had traced the change back to one moment.

Gigg Lane.

Van Gaal.

The obsession with equalling the unbeaten record.

The frustration of failing to win.

Ethan still had not said any of that aloud.

He did not need to.

Instead, he leaned back slightly.

"José."

Mourinho looked at him.

"We've spent a long time preparing this American tour."

Ethan's voice remained calm.

"I want it to work."

Then his tone changed.

"So I'm going to ask something from you and the team."

Mourinho waited.

"Champions League qualification next season."

Ethan paused.

"And at least one trophy this year."

For the first time since Mourinho had arrived at New Manchester United, Ethan had placed an explicit performance target on him.

Until now, he had always tried to provide the broadest possible working freedom.

No ultimatums.

No arbitrary trophy quotas.

No owner interfering in football matters.

This was different.

Was it really because of sponsorship obligations and the American market?

Mourinho was far too intelligent to believe that was the whole reason.

The League Cup was already gone.

New Manchester United had slipped behind in the Premier League.

The FA Cup remained available.

So did the Champions League.

But Europe was the most difficult path of all.

Every remaining club in the last sixteen was strong.

And for all New Manchester United's talent, several of their most exciting players were still developing.

Kaká was not yet the finished article.

Neither was Ronaldo.

Messi was only seventeen.

Robben was now out for the season.

Winning the Champions League would be extraordinarily difficult.

Mourinho sat quietly for several seconds.

Then something in his expression changed.

He smiled.

"Champions League qualification."

Ethan watched him.

"And one trophy."

Mourinho leaned forward.

"No."

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"The league or the Champions League."

He said it without a trace of humour.

"At least one of those."

Then Mourinho laughed.

Something had shifted.

For weeks, pressure had been consuming him.

Now Ethan had deliberately given that pressure a shape.

A target.

A challenge.

And suddenly Mourinho no longer felt trapped by it.

He felt energised.

His thoughts began moving again.

The frustration Van Gaal had left behind seemed to disappear almost at once.

Perhaps Ethan had understood him better than Mourinho realised.

Some managers needed reassurance when things went wrong.

José Mourinho needed a mountain placed in front of him and someone to tell him to climb it.

Now he had one.

(To be continued.)