CHAPTER 440: PLAYERS LEAVING

"What actually happened?"

Richard’s voice was sharp, barely masking his anger. He had just received the news that Manchester City’s new logo—the one meant to mark a new era for the club—had been leaked. But what truly enraged him wasn’t the leak itself... it was who leaked it.

Not even someone inside the club.

It was the government, a careless mistake.

Because of official regulations, the club had been required to submit the new emblem for registration before it could be formally approved and used. Everything had been done by the book—sealed documents, legal oversight, strict confidentiality. Yet somehow, a few days after submission, the design had appeared on a government new website for public.

Unfortunately, a group of reporters—always hungry for exclusives—found the unlisted page, cross-checked it, and before anyone could react, the image spread like wildfire across news outlets and fan forums alike.

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "So let me get this straight," he said coldly. "We followed every regulation, submitted everything properly—and it was the government’s own mistake that leaked it before we could even announce it?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

"What do you want to do?" Miss Heysen asked over the phone, referring to their next course of action.

Of course, the first step is to file a formal complaint with the UK Patent Office for procedural negligence or premature disclosure.

As for the second...Richard fell silent for a moment. His mind was already racing through options.

They could hold a press conference or release a public statement, framing the leak as a preliminary design or one of several concepts under review, or...

Use the leak to generate hype?

To reframing the situation

"Wait until I return to Manchester." Richard decisively said.

From Marina, Richard learned that several Manchester City players had begun showing signs of wanting to leave the club.

Joan Capdevila.

Thierry Henry.

Steve Finnan.

Mark van Bommel.

Neil Lennon.

And... Shevchenko.

For Capdevila, everyone basically knew — he had often complained about the English weather, which made him feel out of place and unable to cope with life in the city. Henry, on the other hand, had always been played in the left-wing position, which didn’t align with Richard’s promise to use him as a striker. To be honest, Richard felt helpless in this situation.

For Mark van Bommel... well, everyone knew his situation. With City favoring a single holding midfielder setup, Claude Makélélé was untouchable — as long as he stayed fit, there was no room for anyone else in that role. Steve Finnan’s situation was even clearer. Having played less than 180 minutes all season, he had already made up his mind: if he wanted meaningful game time, he would have to look elsewhere.

For Neil Lennon and Shevchenko, however, it was difficult. The feedback he received left him feeling miserable.

During their holiday, Richard picked up the phone and asked Marina to convey a clear message to all Manchester City players’ agents. He had already mapped out his plan in his mind.

Winning the Champions League and Premiere League meant that City would see a substantial rise in income from broadcasting rights and sponsorships in the new season. Therefore, he wanted to keep most of the players and sell them later, when their market value would rise in the 2000s, at least.

Richard had a strategy: he directly raised the salaries of first-team players by 30%. This was his usual practice—he wouldn’t wait for wages to lag far behind those of elite clubs before discussing raises or contract extensions. He preferred to increase their wages by a moderate amount, not just 5% or 10%..

For example, Ronaldo currently received the highest salary at Manchester City, which was £100,000. Even if Richard increased it by 30%, it would only rise to £130,000—but it would position Manchester City in Ronaldo’s eyes as a generous club. For the other players, it subtly reinforced the hierarchy, keeping the team in a controlled, passive position both emotionally and strategically.

Additionally, by extending contracts early and raising salaries, players felt appreciated, fostering a more harmonious club atmosphere. Even if a player wanted to leave, their contract status ensured a smooth transaction, allowing the club to secure healthy profits.

Of course, not all of his strategies went smoothly. Richard had already made direct calls to all the players, since he had personally recruited most of them. Some of them answered, while others were intercepted by their agents.

Aside from Henry, who had been convinced by Richard’s personal appeal and agreed to stay, all the other players—including Lennon and Shevchenko—said they needed time to think it over.

With no other choice, Richard could only wait until the players returned before talking to them.

Finally, the day arrived. On the morning before the first training session, Richard had already coordinated with O’Neill and Marina about the upcoming meetings. During the lunch break, Neil Lennon took the initiative to step into his office.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Come in," Richard called out.

The two sat across from each other at the desk, and Lennon’s first words left Richard momentarily silent.

He spoke sincerely, expressing his gratitude to Richard for bringing him to Manchester City and allowing him to experience the thrill of winning a trophies. In his two years in England, he had made remarkable progress. After adapting to the pace of English football, he had been performing exceptionally well in midfield.

As for his previous club?

Crewe Alexandra — after the child sexual abuse scandal that shook the club, it was understandable why Neil Lennon never wanted to return. It wasn’t just about football performance anymore; perhaps he thought that if he had stayed with his old team, he might have suffered as well, especially since they were relegated shortly after.

His words sounded almost like a farewell

With this result, like it or not, Richard had to give up trying to persuade him to stay.The second person was Shevchenko. To be honest, Richard didn’t want to let him go.

"Andriy, how do you see our team’s competitiveness?"

The other party immediately replied, "One of the best teams in England."

Richard nodded. "Yes — and we’ve won trophies here, with many more to come."

Shevchenko paused for a moment before speaking earnestly. "Sir, I understand what you mean, and I know you want to keep me here. I truly appreciate that. To be honest, my time at Manchester City has been the most important part of my career. This club taught me the value of teamwork and always gave me confidence. I’ve improved so much here, but..."

He fell silent for a moment, thinking about how to continue — then decided to take a different route.

"Sir, to be honest, last season I mostly played as a right winger," Shevchenko said, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I believe I have the ability to play as a starting striker — the main striker. If you can promise me that, then I’ll stay."

"..."

Richard fell silent after hearing that — the decision wasn’t entirely his to make, and they both knew it.

Shevchenko let out a slow sigh. "I was promised the main striker position."

Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Which club?"

"AC Milan," Shevchenko replied.

’Damn it... Galliani.’ Richard cursed

"Sir, I also want you to know that if I leave, I’ll do so with honor. I’ve achieved everything I could here, and I just want to take on a new challenge. Or—like I said—if I can play as the main striker, I promise I’ll give it everything I have."

Richard sighed upon hearing Shevchenko’s words. He couldn’t bring himself to argue, so he simply nodded in quiet agreement.

Parting on good terms seemed to be the best choice.

What Richard admired most about Shevchenko was that he never fussed over things like salary increases, bonuses, or any other financial perks.

While the stars of the 1970s may not have become overnight millionaires like those of the ’80s and ’90s, they possessed qualities often missing in later generations of players — gratitude, humility, and loyalty. Stam, for instance, understood the value of leaving with respect rather than burning bridges or forcing a transfer.

So yes, parting amicably truly seemed like the best decision.

Many people might not understand why anyone would want to leave even after Manchester City had just been crowned champions.

But the truth was simple — City still lacked the legacy of a true giant.

Winning trophies could earn a club glory, yes, but legacy came only with time, consistency, and history. A single title didn’t erase decades of being seen as underdogs. To many players, prestige still mattered as much as medals.

Just a few years ago, Leeds United had lifted the First Division trophy before the Premier League’s inception. Blackburn Rovers had shocked everyone by winning the title last season. Nottingham Forest and Aston Villa had both stood atop Europe not too long ago. Yet, as the years passed, those triumphs faded into nostalgia — reminders of glories that time had quietly buried.

And that was what Richard understood better than anyone: being a champion was one thing; being remembered as one was another entirely.

For a true giant, winning a title or two isn’t enough to elevate an ordinary team into the elite. It takes sustained success — years of consistency, recognition, and influence, supported by a roster of household names. One or two stars can ignite a spark, yes, but to burn brightly among football’s greats, you need an entire constellation.

Like Manchester United.

The club’s legacy — the spirit forged by Sir Matt Busby and carried through generations — transcends trophies. It’s a story of resilience, of rising again and again from adversity. Their greatness isn’t measured solely in silverware, but in identity, tradition, and the countless legends who’ve worn the shirt. Even a casual fan can name a dozen United icons without hesitation.

Manchester City, by contrast, remained a club of humble roots. Their achievements, while admirable, lacked the depth to instantly transform them into football royalty. One championship doesn’t erase decades of history; it’s a moment, not a legacy.

This season illustrated that contrast vividly. While Manchester United continued to compete for titles even amid a period of transition, City’s rise still felt fragile — driven more by momentum than by maturity.

That champion’s mentality — that fierce, unbreakable Red Devils spirit — was something City simply did not yet possess.