CHAPTER 280: ARSÈNE WENGER AGAIN

Three days later, under the iconic floodlights of Highbury, Manchester City prepared to take on Arsenal in the next Chapter of their Premier League campaign. The stakes were unmistakable: a win would mark their fifth consecutive league victory—a powerful statement of intent from a team that had been quietly gathering momentum.

The mood within the City camp was confident, sharpened by recent success but grounded in discipline. The squad was beginning to click with frightening precision—Ronaldo was razor-sharp, having rediscovered his rhythm, while Thierry Henry, fresh off a dazzling two-goal performance against Southampton, looked every bit the emerging superstar.

Sensing the moment, Robertson adjusted his tactics accordingly. Instead of the usual shape, he opted for a bold 4-4-2 formation, placing faith in the red-hot form of his frontmen.

With Henry and Ronaldo leading the line, City were not just aiming to contain Arsenal—they were coming to Highbury with the clear intention to attack.

At the press conference the day before the Arsenal match, the room at Maine Road’s media suite was packed—journalists from across the country had taken notice of Manchester City’s recent form.

Five consecutive wins were on the line, and facing Arsenal at Highbury was always a narrative-rich fixture.

The cameras flicked on. Flashes popped. Robertson took his seat at the table, flanked by club media officer Sam Reynolds and a silver thermos of strong black coffee.

The first question came quickly:

"Due to historical and traditional reasons, there hasn’t been much conflict between Manchester City and Arsenal. However, tomorrow’s match marks Manchester City’s first-ever Premier League meeting against Arsenal. In the previous two seasons, Arsenal were defeated by City in the League Cup—results that contributed to the departure of manager George Graham. Earlier this season, during pre-season, City also managed a win over Arsenal. What’s your opinion of the current Arsenal team?"

Robertson smiled, shook his head, and leaned into the microphone.

"Let me clarify that," he began. "Graham wasn’t dismissed because of a single defeat to us. He was involved in legal issues, and the FA ruled that he could no longer continue as manager. Arsenal couldn’t afford to go an entire year without a head coach, so he left Highbury. That was a decision based on circumstance—not performance."

He paused, then added with a knowing smile, "As for tomorrow, I think the fans—especially those at Highbury—are in for a proper contest. This is our first Premier League meeting, and while there’s no traditional rivalry, make no mistake: Arsenal wants to beat us, and we want to beat Arsenal. And I’m sure Bruce Rioch will want to make a statement of Arsenal’s intent. But we’re ready. It’s a fantastic challenge, and for us, a big opportunity to keep growing."

The press conference wrapped up on a high note, with cameras flashing and reporters scribbling furiously as Robertson delivered one-liners, insight, and just enough swagger to keep the headlines sharp.

For today’s match, Richard had a special presence in the Highbury VIP box—his parents. It wasn’t often that Bryan and Anna Maddox made the trip to Highbury with Richard, but having just returned from a relaxing holiday in Brazil, they’d decided to accompany their son for the big occasion.

"Richard," Bryan said, nudging him gently, "I have to tell you—you must sign that kid. Light on his feet, hips like a dancer, the ball stuck to his boots like glue. The boy made defenders spin in circles and didn’t even break a sweat! If you’re late, someone’s going to scoop him up, and you’ll wish it was you. I’m telling you—he’s special."

Richard helplessly nodded. He knew exactly who his father was talking about.

Ronaldinho.

A name that would be one to remember.

Bryan’s initial excitement had faded into a thoughtful frown, leaving Richard puzzled by the sudden change in expression.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Hey, son—did you hear about the Premier League roundtable? They’ve launched something called a Football Task Force. Sounds serious."

"Yeah, I know. Why?"

"They’re talking reforms. Big ones. Things like a ’fit and proper persons test’ for club owners, more transparency, and—get this—redistributing Premier League TV money to support grassroots football. Do you think that’ll affect you?"

But that wasn’t all.

The 1996–97 season marked the final year of the original Sky TV deal—a landmark moment. The next broadcast contract was already being negotiated, reportedly worth £743 million, according to The Telegraph. A staggering sum.

This influx of money opened the floodgates to agent-driven transfers, foreign managers, and global marketing, effectively transforming football clubs into international entertainment brands.

Top clubs like Manchester United, Arsenal, Liverpool, and Newcastle began to wield increasing political influence. Alan Sugar, chairman of Tottenham Hotspur, was instrumental in pushing the League to award TV rights to Sky.

These elite teams formed a de facto voting bloc, reinforcing a growing "them and us" divide between the Premier League’s powerhouses and the clubs below.

This shift coincided with a broader cultural transformation: the buzz of Euro ’96, the rise of Britpop, and Tony Blair’s pro-football government all helped intertwine football with national identity and media culture.

As a result, inside Parliament, sports ministers and MPs began actively debating football’s role in public life—from public safety and ownership ethics to youth development and economic equity.

Richard scoffed at his father’s question, brushing it aside with a half-smirk.

The Premier League roundtable had become something of a shadow boardroom—a place where football’s most powerful club owners gathered, less to govern the game and more to safeguard their interests.

In many ways, the Premier League resembled a multinational corporation, with each owner acting like a shareholder. Every season, some clubs would fall away, while new ones ascended to take their place—faces changed, but the game behind the scenes remained the same.

Like any corporate structure, the roundtable was rife with political maneuvering—alliances, rivalries, and quiet manipulation.

Power blocs formed naturally. The stronger clubs pushed their agendas, often at the expense of the smaller ones.

Manchester United’s Martin Edwards was a perfect example. For years, he had been quietly laying the groundwork for what many now feared: the birth of a breakaway "European Super League."

And with United missing out on Champions League qualification the previous season, Edwards was doubling down—determined to ensure United’s place among Europe’s elite remained untouched, results be damned.

David Dein, Arsenal’s vice-chairman, was another power broker—widely credited as one of the architects of the Premier League’s formation and continued commercial success. His influence ran deep, shaping everything from scheduling to sponsorships.

But with men like Dein and Edwards steering the ship, it was no surprise that smaller clubs often struggled to be heard. For them, solidarity was the only hope—banding together to resist being drowned out by the financial and political clout of the top-tier giants.

Still, on the surface, unity was the golden rule.

Whatever schemes were plotted within the room, they stayed there. The unwritten code was clear: no leaks, no grandstanding, no press briefings. Break that code, and you risked being frozen out—politically sidelined, financially punished, or worse, muscled out of influence altogether.

One consensus, however, bound them all: the more successful the Premier League became, the more they all stood to gain. And that shared ambition—greased by broadcast deals and global marketing—was the glue holding the façade of harmony in place.

Even in a room full of competitors, money had a way of keeping the peace.

Just as Richard was about to answer, the door to the VIP room swung open. Stepping inside was Arsenal’s vice-chairman, David Dein—accompanied by a tall, elegant, and impeccably dressed middle-aged man with a calm air of quiet confidence.

Richard froze.

Dein, noticing the sudden change in his expression, glanced between the two men with a flicker of curiosity. His companion, however, smiled warmly and stepped forward without hesitation.

"Long time no see, Mr. Richard," he said in a familiar, composed tone.

Snapping out of his momentary shock, Richard rose to his feet and extended his hand, eyes still wide with surprise. "It’s really been a long time... Arsène."

Arsène Wenger had returned—and not just anywhere, but here at Highbury, alongside David Dein of Arsenal!