The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 612: Elland Road Under Siege



Chapter 612: Elland Road Under Siege

Leeds United's league performance this season has been on par with last year, once again in contention for the top four as the season nears its end. However, their Champions League campaign has reached unprecedented heights, advancing to the semi-finals—a feat that stands as one of the club's brightest moments since finishing as runners-up in the 1975 European Cup. A single step further would at least tie that historic achievement.

O'Leary struck a calm and confident tone when discussing the upcoming semi-final. He acknowledged Millwall's strength and their status as favorites but also expressed optimism about Leeds United's chances of reaching the final.

Meanwhile, Aldrich faced relentless grilling from reporters. The Fleet Street media sought to frame the match-up as a battle of equals, painting Aldrich and O'Leary as evenly matched rivals.

This premise wasn't entirely baseless.

In the previous league season, Leeds United managed one win and one draw against Millwall. Although O'Leary was slightly on the losing side in head-to-head statistics, the gap wasn't insurmountable.

Aldrich, however, avoided a direct response, instead delivering a cryptic comment:

"My neighbor once praised my son for being well-behaved and seemingly smart for his age, but no one would call him a genius—after all, he hasn't taken an IQ test."

The reporters quickly caught Aldrich's implication:

Words alone don't win championships.

Regardless of external efforts to level the playing field and create excitement around the matchup, the reality remained—Leeds United was simply not on Millwall's level.

Aldrich, aiming to unsettle O'Leary and disrupt Leeds United's focus, added more fuel to the fire.

"Everyone's talking about Leeds United's brilliance right now. Compared to their own historical achievements, it's true. Congratulations to O'Leary—he's become a legendary figure in Leeds United's history. But that's their story. They've reached the Champions League semi-finals, and it's worth celebrating. As for Millwall, this is our fourth consecutive season making it to the semi-finals. We're calm. We're focused on doing our best in these two matches. If we don't make it to the final, for us, it'll be a failed season."

Aldrich's remarks were not overconfident—they were grounded in fact.

Even among Europe's elite clubs, reaching four consecutive Champions League semi-finals is a rare feat. With two Champions League titles already in their cabinet, Millwall's standards were undoubtedly higher than most.

Match Day

It was matchday. As the day slipped into evening, the sky still not completely dark, the streets of Leeds buzzed with excitement. Everywhere, Leeds United fans proudly wore their jerseys and scarves. Groups of supporters, some holding homemade signs, poured in from all corners, heading toward a single point: Elland Road Stadium.

Though Leeds didn't boast a geographically favorable location within England, the club had a unique advantage—being the sole professional football team in the city. This allowed local fans to pour all their passion into Leeds United without division, creating an unmatched sense of unity and energy.

As Champions League semi-final night approached, the sight of fans flooding toward Elland Road—pubs overflowing, chants echoing through the streets—was a spectacle not seen in over 20 years. This fervor was a testament to O'Leary's success in bringing Leeds United to a modern-day peak.

On Elland Road's stands, over 3,000 Millwall fans made their presence felt, cheering their hearts out for The Lions. Yet their voices were drowned out by the deafening roar of Leeds supporters, a sea of white jerseys filling the stadium with an unstoppable wave of enthusiasm.

In the VIP box, Peter Ridsdale stood tall, awaiting the match's kickoff. Beside him was Millwall's chairman, Arthur, his frame imposing and demeanor calm.

In the past year, Arthur had grown more reserved. Always careful and measured in public, his more brazen side had been saved for clashes at the Premier League chairman's roundtable. He had once humiliated Bates, crushed Eduardo underfoot, and left Dein no choice but to back down. But times had changed. With Millwall's meteoric rise, Aldrich taking charge of the England national team, and Andrew weaving connections within the FA, Arthur was no longer the underdog in the footballing world. He despised the verbal sparring and political maneuvering at the negotiation table with the Premier League chairman. If it were up to him, he'd settle differences with rolled-up sleeves and fists, plain and simple.

Peter Ridsdale, who had once reveled in arrogance, had been humbled ever since Arthur serenaded him with "Auld Lang Syne" last season—a moment that extinguished his bravado.

The two chairmen gathered at Elland Road, cheering for their respective teams.

Before the match began, they exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, and sat down to watch the game, occasionally chatting. Ridsdale, facing financial challenges at Leeds United, seemed eager to glean insights from Arthur. The club's projections from two years ago had fallen short, and while their performance on the pitch was solid, the economic downturn and the bursting of the football bubble had significantly impacted their revenue.

Arthur, though inexperienced in running a football club and not involved in day-to-day operations, had observed enough over the years to offer convincing advice. His casual comments struck a chord with Ridsdale, who nodded frequently, occasionally showing a contemplative look that amused Arthur.

When Aldrich emerged from the players' tunnel, he was met with a chorus of boos, jeers, and raised middle fingers from the stands.

His pre-match remarks had irked the Leeds fans. While his statements were rooted in fact, they were deliberately provocative.

Aldrich, however, was unfazed. Whether the fans were comfortable didn't matter to him. His goal was to make the Leeds coach and players uncomfortable, and the crowd's reaction only confirmed he was on the right track.

O'Leary approached Aldrich for a handshake, both men wearing confident yet composed smiles.

Aldrich disliked being grouped with O'Leary in debates about young managers, and O'Leary resented comparisons that made it seem like Aldrich's career trajectory was his benchmark. If not for his composure, O'Leary might have been reduced to a Keegan-like figure under Ferguson's shadow—perpetually unable to escape.

They patted each other's arms briefly before turning to their respective dugouts.

The players took to the pitch, 22 starting players exuding determination with fiery eyes.

"The Champions League semi-final at Elland Road is about to kick off. Leeds United, the underdogs who have reached this stage, host defending champions Millwall in the first leg. Both teams are fielding their strongest lineups, but it remains to be seen if either will adopt a conservative approach tonight.

Leeds United's starting XI in a 4-4-2 formation:

Goalkeeper: Martin.

Defenders: Kelly, Ferdinand, Matteo, Harte.

Midfielders: Bowyer, Dacourt, Cahill, Kewell.

Forwards: Smith, Viduka.

Millwall's starting XI in a 4-3-3 formation:

Goalkeeper: Pagliuca.

Defenders: Schneider, Materazzi, Southgate, Zambrotta.

Midfielders: Gattuso, Pirlo, Nedvěd.

Forwards: Larsson, Henry, Ronaldinho.

Although Leeds appear to be set up in a 4-4-2, Smith's defensive work rate provides flexibility, effectively bolstering their midfield's defensive efforts."

Standing on the sidelines, Aldrich closely observed Leeds United's opening strategy. Despite their different league standings, league and cup matches are entirely different. The league demands consistency and endurance, while cup ties hinge on tactical clashes and two 90-minute bursts of brilliance.

After five minutes of watching Leeds' offensive runs and defensive strategies, Aldrich gained clarity.

Unlike Valencia, whose limitations dictated their reliance on counter-attacking, Leeds United approached the game from the opposite direction. Their fullbacks were aggressive in attack, and their physical advantage, a hallmark of Premier League teams, gave them an edge. This wasn't a match for Italian-style control or Spanish finesse. Instead, it was an English battle of fast pace, intense duels, and relentless contests for every inch of the pitch.

Leeds United had committed to an all-out team defensive strategy against Millwall.

Perhaps Valencia had served as a cautionary tale. Among Europe's clubs at the time, few executed counter-attacks as lethally as Valencia. If Leeds tried to play the same way, they risked being slowly dismantled.

Leeds' defense was organized with man-marking assignments for every player.

Viduka and Smith focused on pressing Pirlo, sticking close to deny him time on the ball. If Gattuso had possession, they let him pass freely, confident that he couldn't create danger. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Cahill and Dacourt patrolled the space in front of the box, double-teaming Nedvěd. Kewell and Bowyer held their positions on the flanks, ready to block Millwall's fullbacks or drop back to double up on the wingers. Meanwhile, the center-backs kept a close watch on Henry, with one staying tight and the other providing cover in case anyone broke through.

Leeds United were determined to challenge Millwall with a cohesive defensive effort.

Leeds United's approach directly abandoned any attempts to disrupt Gattuso or Millwall's double center-back pairing.

In an ideal scenario, this defensive strategy could create a perfect encirclement of Millwall's attacking players. As the attack pushed forward, Leeds United's formation would compress backward, increasing the strength of their defensive marking.

Millwall, on the other hand, adopted a high-pressing strategy. In some ways, their core defensive tactic was similar—targeting the primary playmakers behind threatening passes and cutting off the attack before it could fully develop.

The high tempo and physical intensity of the match left little room for players to maneuver. Whether Leeds or Millwall launched an attack, advancing into the opponent's half was fraught with challenges. Players had minimal space to trap, adjust, or dribble, all while engaging in intense physical duels.

Pirlo's lack of physical strength was evident as Smith and Viduka, both known for their aggressive playing style, made life difficult for him. In the first 15 minutes alone, he was taken down twice and lost possession once. His performance was clearly being contained at this stage.

"Across the Premier League—no, all of Europe—teams have been discussing how to dismantle Millwall's attack built around Pirlo paired with either Nedvěd or Ronaldinho. Today, it seems like Leeds United may have found the key. Pirlo's weaknesses are being exposed in this high-tempo game. But Leeds is sacrificing their best chances for counterattacks to achieve this. Whether this tactic will pay off remains to be seen. Perhaps the result of this match will speak for itself," the commentator analyzed.

By pulling their forwards back to target Pirlo, Leeds United's counterattacks began from positions far away from the penalty area. This left Millwall's defensive line with more time to regroup, assign markers, and limit the effectiveness of Leeds' attacking plays.

O'Reilly's expression was resolute. Strength disparity always exists, and for a weaker side like Leeds United to challenge a stronger opponent, sacrifices are unavoidable. Unlike teams that would rely on five defenders or two defensive midfielders supporting a central midfielder, O'Reilly's approach was similar yet distinct. Smith was essentially a false striker, acting as a central midfielder when defending.

He could only hope that this strategy would disrupt Millwall's offensive system, leading to a collapse in both attack and defense.


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