The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 1: Children in a soccer environment

A murky Thames divided London into north and south, traditionally perceived as impoverished in the south and affluent in the north, with east being poor and west wealthy. Perhaps this discrepancy could be attributed to the Germans; during World War II, London had suffered extensive bombing, with East London bearing the brunt of the destruction. The area became a wasteland, seemingly abandoned, which helped forge the resilient spirit of its inhabitants.

In 1986, Aldrich Hall was ten years old, a child of East London. Compared to children born in northwest London, he had little in the way of material advantages to boast about. Yet, despite growing up in this mixed immigrant industrial area, he was fortunate. His father, Arthur Hall, was a partner in a glass factory here. The business was small, but it provided enough to support the family, especially since Arthur had three sons.

Aldrich's eldest brother, Barnett, was eighteen and worked with Arthur. He seemed like a glass installer with no promising future ahead. His second brother, Andrew, was just three years older than Aldrich and still in school. At this rate, he would likely follow in Barnett's footsteps, joining the ranks of the blue-collar class.

Aldrich was small for his age but quite mischievous. His family being in the glass business, he would sneakily pocket small stones at night and, under the cover of darkness, throw them through the windows of immigrant-owned restaurants or shops in the community.

However, one couldn't traverse the streets at night without running into trouble.

At the end of May, Aldrich planned to execute the same trick again, this time targeting a new black-owned video rental store run by a man named Sander. In East London, a place rife with racial discrimination, Sander had to tread carefully, despite his tall and strong appearance. He had gathered rumors about mischievous children damaging windows, prompting him to remain vigilant after locking up each night instead of heading upstairs to rest. Not only was he guarding against thieves, but by chance, he found himself waiting for trouble to arrive.

"Crash!"

When a small stone shattered the glass storefront, Sander erupted in an angry shout from the darkened store.

Aldrich, who had just thrown the stone, was startled at how quickly Sander had reacted. Panicking, he hurried across the street into a nearby alley. In his frantic escape, he stumbled into a dead end. Hearing the video store's door open behind him sent him into a near-panic. While he was a local, the immigrant communities were tightly knit, composed of African immigrants and others from the Middle East.

In broad daylight, Aldrich wouldn't have had to worry; if any white person saw a black man harassing a child, they would surely intervene. Sander wouldn't dare provoke locals. But at night, Aldrich feared falling prey to violence and being left isolated and helpless.

Facing the dead-end alley, Aldrich's agile ten-year-old body attempted to scale the high wall to escape. However, in his fright, he clumsily fell to the ground, striking his head and losing consciousness on the other side of the wall.

Sander's furious shouting attracted attention, and soon someone discovered the unconscious Aldrich and kindly took him to the hospital...

Aldrich spent three days in the hospital. His injuries weren't severe, but upon waking, he was dazed and silent. Even with his parents, Arthur and Amelia, along with his brothers Barnett and Andrew surrounding his bedside, he said nothing and buried his face under the covers, worrying Arthur to death as he sought a doctor, fearing that his youngest son had suffered a brain injury or was rendered mute.

In reality, Aldrich appeared lost on the surface, but deep within, he was terrified. No one knew that beneath the skin of this ten-year-old boy resided the soul of an atheist from thirty years in the future, a soul from China.

Coming to grips with his unexpected arrival in 1986 London, Aldrich eventually adapted without understanding why he had traveled back in time. At least he had no attachments; after all, in China, he was an orphan.

Three days later, Aldrich was discharged from the hospital, and the Hall family prepared a lavish dinner at home for him. Yet, unspoken worries lingered in their eyes.

Once playful and rambunctious, Aldrich suddenly became well-mannered and obedient after his release.

No one bothered to ask him why. They interpreted his behavior as learned wisdom; after all, experiencing a frightful fall and sustaining an injury was a bloody lesson, and it was better for him to stay out of trouble, alleviating the adults' concerns.

May 31 marked the kickoff of the World Cup in Mexico, and London's football atmosphere remained electric. Rather than waning after the league's end, fans were eager to see England excel at the World Cup, hoping to show the world that banning English teams from the three main tournaments was a loss for Europe and the world alike!

Despite the ailing English football scene, this was a direct consequence of an edict from Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.

Last May, the Heysel disaster had severely impacted the English football scene, not only causing a significant emotional toll but also affecting the economy and national image.

As night descended and the lights began to twinkle, Aldrich, under the guidance of his brothers, entered a community fan pub. The interior was smoky and had an unpleasant odor, yet the atmosphere was electric with excitement.

Barnett casually greeted a few familiar young faces, while Andrew had a few acquaintances around. Only ten-year-old Aldrich felt completely out of place, with not a familiar face in sight.

Fortunately, after a few greetings, his brothers guided him to a corner table.

Aldrich perked up his ears to listen as the surrounding fans laughed and discussed mostly about matches. Here, they exchanged words of their favorite local team, Millwall, or speculated about the upcoming World Cup. Occasionally, he could hear references to Wimbledon as well.

"Thugs!"

The pub was filled with crude language, and as Aldrich listened, he began to form an impression of these crude, joking fans.

They didn't bother discussing Millwall's seasonal performance or envisioning next season's prospects; instead, they talked about everything but the matches — fighting, brawls, taunting rival fans, and ways to humiliate them.

It wasn't hard to see why East London teams were notorious; two bitter rivals, West Ham and Millwall, were notorious breeding grounds for football hooliganism.

Just as Leeds United fans had earned their reputation as extreme racists, the conversation shifted among Millwall supporters to the praise of Wimbledon.

The truth was that Wimbledon had made astonishing progress in the last three years, achieving a remarkable climb to the top division, a feat worthy of recognition.

But their admiration for Wimbledon had little to do with its success; instead, it stemmed from the players' brutish performances on the pitch. Their coach had instilled a philosophy that encouraged violence on the field. For Millwall supporters, it was the style of play that resonated with them.

What was football to them?

To them, it was practically irrelevant!

Ideally, football would be a combination of boxing and American football!

Aldrich felt entirely out of place in this atmosphere of opinion; lowering his head, he secretly scoffed: "Wimbledon?"

As prominent as they might be now, with their mainstream appeal after the 1994 World Cup absence, the rough style of play would likely contribute to future failures on the global stage.

Eventually, Wimbledon would lose the community support of English teams, ultimately failing to maintain a fan base.

"Hey, help me out here."

While Aldrich was lost in thought, Barnett slid into the booth with a few bottles of beer, passing the cheapest brew to his two younger brothers.

Though still children, Aldrich and Andrew didn't see anything wrong with drinking. Their gazes fell on a sheet of paper Barnett placed on the table, detailing the matchups for the twenty-four participating teams in the Mexico tournament.

Barnett grabbed a pen and jotted down a few team names on a separate sheet, then handed it to his brothers, saying, "What do you think? England for the championship, Brazil as runners-up, and France and West Germany for third and fourth."

Thirteen-year-old Andrew knelt down, examining the four team names and cheering in approval.

Aldrich, however, was momentarily confused before realizing: his brother wanted to gamble!

Aldrich quickly wanted to dissuade Barnett, but the words caught in his throat.

This was London; Barnett was of legal age. Everything was permitted.

Yet, looking at the teams written down, Aldrich frowned.

Seeing this reaction, Barnett chuckled, "What's with that face?"

Aldrich looked up at his relaxed brother and asked solemnly, "How much are you betting?"

Barnett's smile faded slightly; he murmured, "Five hundred pounds. I've saved for two years."

He had started working with Arthur two years prior.

Aldrich's frown deepened, shaking his head, "If you want five hundred pounds to yield returns, don't back England's championship. That emotional bias will waste your money."

"But we have Lineker."

"Argentina has Maradona! Why do you think Argentina won't even make it to the semifinals?"

"Argentina can't beat England."

"If you're referring to the Falklands War from four years ago, you're right; England won, but football and war are completely different. Otherwise, Brazil wouldn't be in the final four."

Barnett fell silent, a flicker of unease crossing his expression.

The rivalry between England and Argentina was well-known; four years prior, England's retaking of the Falklands garnered widespread support, leading to a general disdain for the defeated side.

Noticing his brother's silence, Aldrich had a thought and quietly suggested, "Lend me a hundred pounds, and I'll place a bet too."

"I want in too!"

Andrew chimed in.

Barnett, taking on the duty of an elder brother, had always cared for his siblings, and their family was tightly knit — perhaps a hallmark of East London families and communities. With a hint of resignation, he nodded.

Lending money in this context was virtually the same as gifting it.

Seeing his brother agree, Aldrich proposed, "How about this, big brother? Let's place bets on which teams will progress from each group. What do you think?"

Barnett had initially harbored dreams of striking it rich by betting on the finalists and their respective placings, the potential returns being astronomical. However, upon reflection, he thought it wiser to play it safe.

The three brothers gathered to discuss the advancing teams from each group.

With twenty-four teams, two from each group plus four of the best third-place teams would progress, totaling sixteen teams for the knockout stages.

They focused solely on guessing the top two from each group.

Aldrich could barely recall the details of the group matches, except for the knowledge of the finalists from this World Cup.

Following the conventional thought process, they reasoned that strong teams would advance from the six groups. Aldrich advised Barnett not to place all of his money in one bet, while he himself requested Barnett to place one hundred pounds on Argentina as the champion and West Germany as the runner-up.

What lingered in his mind were the grand final and Maradona's "Hand of God" goal, but the odds for betting on the finalists were high at this stage. Waiting until the knockout stage eliminated teams would not offer the same lucrative returns.

As for Andrew, he treated Aldrich's hundred pounds as a treasure, carefully guiding Barnett to bet on the guaranteed advancing teams from each group. Even though the odds for strong teams would be low, Andrew did not have the heart to gamble all in.