Chapter 28

Late at night, there were not many customers left in Sande's bar. The group that had monopolized the pool table all night had put down their glasses and were sitting on the table, smoking and chatting, reminiscing about the foolish things they did in their childhood. They laughed so hard that tears welled up in their eyes.

"How did you end up being a head coach? Now that your family is so rich, can't you just hire one?"

Brady exhaled a puff of smoke and looked at Audrey with a half-smile.

"Ha, didn't he always want to be a head coach? What's so strange about that?"

Eve sat next to Audrey, her rosy face looking charming as she pouted, showing a cute and innocent demeanor.

"That's not the same. When he was a kid, his family couldn't afford a team."

Fred said matter-of-factly.

Audrey didn't answer the question. Everyone has their own aspirations. Sometimes he couldn't understand others' choices, like in the football world, Cantona's retirement, Beckham's early departure from the top leagues, and the downfall of countless young stars. Was it just about money? It was hard to explain all the reasons in a simple way.

So, Audrey didn't plan to explain anything. When he was poor, he wanted to get rich. When he had enough money to live comfortably, those vague ideals and ambitions started to resonate in his mind. When you are poor, you focus on yourself; when you are successful, you think about helping others. Audrey's fallback was to be a rich man's son living a carefree life, but before he failed in life, he had to try.

As the bar was about to close, suddenly six or seven middle-aged men pushed open the door. They walked in and sat at the bar. Sande waved the staff away and personally brought out glasses, pouring drinks for each of them.

Audrey accidentally saw that the men sitting at the bar had bruises on their faces, but they didn't seem to care, drinking and laughing, recounting their earlier exploits without a care in the world.

After listening for a while, Audrey understood. After the Millwall match in the afternoon, they had cornered a few isolated Derby County fans in an alley and beat them up.

The man in the middle was clearly their leader. He was dressed plainly, not particularly muscular, but his appearance exuded a sinister and ruthless aura. His eyes seemed to emit a cold chill.

They drank and smoked, their spirits high, and then they got up and walked over to the pool table. The leader casually greeted Brady and the others, as if he were an elder meeting younger people.

Audrey jumped off the pool table, picked up his suit, and walked out, the other kids following closely behind.

As they passed by the group, Audrey was suddenly grabbed by the arm by the leader.

He looked Audrey up and down, and Audrey yanked his arm back forcefully. The man laughed in surprise, "Oh, kid, don't get so worked up. You're Audrey Hall, right?"

Audrey replied coldly, "I'm Audrey. If you touch me again, I'll break your hands."

The middle-aged man dramatically raised his hands and joked to his friends, "Oh, he's so nervous, like we're going to rape him. Hahaha."

His friends hadn't expected such a strong reaction from Audrey, especially the threat.

"Hey, Pogue, let it go."

Brady saw the tension rise, especially Audrey's icy face and the hostile look in his eyes. He stepped in to mediate, fearing a conflict.

Audrey stopped Brady, knowing who the man was.

Pogue Greer, the organizer of the Bushwackers.

Audrey had no good feelings about football hooligans, or rather, anyone with a normal and stable life wouldn't want to have anything to do with them.

Pogue lit a cigarette and smiled casually, saying to Audrey, "Hey, kid, I'm glad you took over Millwall. You've been doing a good job lately. Keep it up."

He looked like an elder encouraging a younger person, but Audrey found it repulsive. He sneered, "If you stopped using Millwall's name to commit crimes, I'd be even happier."

Pogue's face turned cold, and he said lightly, "Audrey, I'm not your enemy. We just met, why are you so hostile? My father was a Millwall fan, and I've been one since I was a kid. How old are you? You've only been in charge of the club for three months. Don't get too full of yourself."

Audrey didn't want to argue with him and sneered, "Let me tell you, Millwall is mine now. I can make it soar or disappear from London. That's my decision. You? What are you? I don't care if you're a fan, but if you tarnish Millwall and damage my property, I'll not only kick you out of East London, but I'll send you to prison myself, Pogue Greer. Do you know who you're talking to? The Hall family can crush you like a bug! We're not just rich; we've lived here for generations. Street thugs, can you handle that? Clown!"

Audrey threw his suit over his shoulder and turned to leave.

Pogue Greer, in his late thirties, and his companions were all stunned.

Pogue reflexively grabbed Audrey's arm, not wanting to let him go.

But the next second,

Audrey grabbed a bottle from the nearby table and smashed it on Pogue's head!

"Fuck you! Are you deaf? Didn't you hear what I just said? You scumbag, don't dirty my clothes!"

Not only did Audrey smash a bottle on Pogue's head, but he also grabbed his neck with one hand, pulling him close. They were less than ten centimeters apart, and Audrey's handsome face was cold and menacing as he growled.

Pogue's head was hit hard, and his thoughts were muddled. He was momentarily dazed.

And Audrey, right in front of him, roared like a fierce beast.

"Pogue Greer! Fuck! Do you have a brain? You have a family, a wife. You can be a jobless bum, but do you want your wife to lose her job? Do you want the police to follow you day and night? Do you think I'm a small-time thug? Do you dare to hit me? If you do, I'll sue you and bankrupt you! Or do you want to attack me in the dark? Fuck! The Hall family will retaliate against your entire family! Pogue Greer, you're finished. Your life is over, but for the sake of your family and your children, don't let them suffer. Don't let your children become scum like you! Listen to me, don't let me see you again! Get as far away as you can."

After his tirade, Audrey's face suddenly calmed. He gently released the dazed Pogue, straightened his wrinkled T-shirt, and then walked toward the bar's entrance.

Pogue's companions rushed forward, but Pogue raised his hand to stop them. He closed his eyes and shook his head, his expression complex.

As Audrey said, they, as football hooligans, didn't dare to challenge wealthy families.

Not to mention their bare fists; the rich and powerful could nail them through legal means.

Brady, Fred, Eve, and the others were wide-eyed and speechless, having never seen this fierce side of Audrey.

Who was Pogue?

He was a tough guy who led the Bushwackers in violent brawls!

Audrey had smashed a bottle on his head!

As they followed Audrey out of the bar, Brady's mind was a blur. Was he wondering if Pogue's head was hard, or if the bottle was too fragile?

Anyway, Pogue's head didn't bleed...

Under the moonlight, Audrey slung his suit over his shoulder, a cigarette in his hand, and walked toward the eastern suburbs, his mind heavy. Eve followed behind, her large eyes occasionally glancing at his back.

Audrey felt helpless. English football clubs rely on their communities, and Wimbledon in the future was a typical example. When the team moved away from its original community, the fans didn't follow, but instead formed a new team: AFC Wimbledon, starting from the seventh tier.

Since the mid-1980s, when Margaret Thatcher ordered a crackdown on football hooligans to clean up the sport, the results were significant over nearly a decade.

However, due to Millwall's league level, the Bushwackers had a chance to survive.

The crackdown on football hooligans was based on league levels. After the formation of the Premier League, this corporate league, for commercial interests, naturally didn't want hooligans to ruin the Premier League's brand value. But with limited police resources and most matches concentrated on weekends, with over 80% of matches happening simultaneously, most of the police force was deployed to maintain order at Premier League matches.

So, the hooligans of Premier League teams were the first to be targeted, followed by those in the First Division.

London, with its many teams, including several in the Premier League—Chelsea, Tottenham, Arsenal, West Ham, Crystal Palace, QPR, and Wimbledon—was a challenge for the police. Maintaining order at these matches was already a strain, and during derby matches, additional police had to be brought in from other areas. In this context, even though hooligans still existed, the London police were stretched thin.

Audrey stopped walking, feeling tired. He sat by the riverbank, thinking to himself: We must get promoted to the Premier League next year!

PS: Thanks to "Tuo Tuoxieba" for the donation!