The Rise of Millwal

If a 30-minute training game alone could serve as the basis for transforming a team, it would be wishful thinking.

Aldrich knew better than to believe that one scrimmage and a brief explanation of his philosophy would earn him the absolute trust and admiration of the players. His goal wasn't to assert personal authority but to build a cohesive and powerful team capable of delivering results.

On the tactical board, Klinsmann displayed four images. The national team players, seated on the grass, frowned as they recognized the scenes.

These weren't memories they were eager to revisit.

The images depicted moments from England's clash with Portugal during the European Championship, specifically the freeze frames just before goals were scored.

Aldrich intended to dissect these moments with the players, analyzing past weaknesses and identifying team characteristics. Among the valuable match footage he reviewed, this dramatic encounter stood out.

It was a defeat—a shocking one, no less. England had squandered a 2–0 lead to lose 2–3.

Of the five goals in that game, Luís Figo's long-range stunner was a flash of brilliance, offering little room for tactical analysis. Even if given ten more tries, Figo might not replicate such a strike.

The remaining four goals, however, whether scored or conceded by England, provided invaluable lessons.

Some players hung their heads, seemingly reluctant to look at the board. Aldrich addressed them softly, "We don't have the time to break down every match in detail. But understanding your past mistakes and our optimal strategies is crucial. I chose this game against Portugal from four months ago not to discourage you but to help us grow. Now, lift your heads, pay attention, and commit my words to memory. Reflect on them deeply."

Once all eyes were back on the board, Aldrich pointed to the first image.

It captured the moment before England's opening goal—Beckham poised to cross from the right flank.

Aldrich gestured toward the positioning in the box.

"This goal might seem like a traditional English cross-and-header play, but there's a key difference. Owen and Shearer were tightly marked, yet their positioning spread Portugal's center-backs, creating a gap in front of the goal. Beckham's cross targeted that open space. Our forwards weren't at the drop point, but their movements created the scoring opportunity for a teammate. Scholes made a surprising late run into the box and scored a beautiful header unmarked. Even if it hadn't gone in, the build-up was exceptional."

Whether by design or coincidence, the coordination of this play was remarkable. Every player contributed: Owen and Shearer acted as decoys, Beckham provided the assist, and McManaman's wide positioning pinned back the fullback, preventing him from closing the gap.

Aldrich then moved to the second image, another moment preceding an England goal—again, Beckham mid-cross.

"Our second goal also showcased excellent teamwork. Here, Owen is on the wing. You might recall that he deliberately drifted wide and, under pressure from two Portuguese defenders, unexpectedly passed back to Beckham. That move disrupted Portugal's defensive setup.

"In the second phase, Portugal's backline faltered under pressure. Scholes' run to the center of the box drew the defenders' attention, but Beckham's cross found the back post, where McManaman was unmarked. He easily scored into the empty net.

"The key points here are Owen's ability to lay off the ball under pressure, Beckham's precise delivery coupled with Scholes' decoy run, and McManaman's awareness to attack the back post."

As Aldrich finished speaking, he glanced at the players involved and gave them a thumbs-up.

Beckham scratched his head, smiling sheepishly.

Both goals had come from the golden touch of his right foot—masterful assists.

As for Owen, a pure striker, his role in the first goal may not have been intentional. He had simply done his job, albeit without receiving the pass himself.

The second goal was the defining moment of the match. Owen's moment of brilliance stood out when, faced with two Portuguese defenders closing in, he managed to release the ball under intense pressure. To Aldrich, this was the most magical play Owen delivered all game. Otherwise, Owen was tightly marked and neutralized. If only Owen possessed playmaking abilities, England's 4-4-2 setup could have offered more attacking variations. However, expecting a player to both score and create is a high demand—such complete forwards would command transfer fees starting at £30 million in the future.

"These two goals are textbook examples," Aldrich explained to the group, "of how the right coordination can penetrate the defense of a top national team. If we want to score, we need to foster the right match awareness and teamwork. Rigid, one-dimensional attacks won't work; we don't have the upper hand in direct matchups. To disrupt a team's defensive structure, we must dismantle their man-marking and targeted defensive setups."

The English players sitting on the grass let out sighs.

With a 2-0 lead at that point in the match, they had assumed it would be a straightforward win. Portugal seemed powerless. Yet the reality? Those two goals weren't the result of their habitual strategies; they were lucky to have seized those early opportunities.

Pointing to the third image, his tone grew heavier. "This shows the build-up to Rui Costa's cross that assisted Pinto's equalizer. This goal was a morale killer. Portugal strung together over ten consecutive passes without losing possession, showcasing their dominance in passing and control. But even more concerning was this: when Rui Costa crossed the ball, England had more defenders in the box than Portugal had attackers! Especially on Portugal's right flank, we had three vertical defenders, and in the center, we had at least two, arguably three, players tasked with marking Pinto.

"And yet?" Aldrich continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "Rui Costa delivered the cross, Pinto attacked the large open space from left to right, and his diving header sealed the goal. Four years ago, I criticized England's non-existent defense in an article analyzing our loss to Germany. This summer, it's even worse. We're defending with numbers, but failing at the critical moments! It's not a case of one-on-one duels—it's a basic failure to anticipate and act. This must change."

Aldrich's expression grew stern as he spoke of defending. "Whatever our offensive strengths may be, at the international level, defense wins matches. That's the theme we need to focus on."

He then gestured to the fourth image, sighing deeply.

"This goal is even more humiliating. Rui Costa, surrounded by four England defenders, delivered a simple through ball to Gomes, who was the only forward upfront. Gomes received it and completed the stunning comeback.

"This image illustrates the problem clearly. Look at the midfield—it's completely empty! Rui Costa's pass rolled through a gap, unhindered, straight to the danger zone. Our two center-backs also deserve blame: one was fooled by Gomes' movement, and the other… was just watching.

"Gentlemen," Aldrich said, his voice heavy with exasperation, "if even one of the four players marking Rui Costa had positioned themselves in front of the center-backs to protect the defensive line, that pass wouldn't have reached Gomes so easily. It's baffling. In one game, you've exposed two diametrically opposite defensive flaws. In the first half, you stood static, lacking anticipation or interception. In the second half, you overcommitted, leaving massive gaps in the backline. How can the same team display such contrasting defensive problems in a single match?"

Since taking over the national team, Aldrich had been analyzing England's performances over the past year. Yet, this game against Portugal left him perplexed. Typically, a top team's flaws are isolated—an exposed weak point or overly aggressive play compromising defense. But here, England displayed fundamentally conflicting defensive issues, which was rare.

In this match, England's intensity in pressing fluctuated dramatically between halves. In the first half, they conceded due to static defending. In the second half, they pressed aggressively but still conceded. What exactly was England's defensive strategy?

Beckham raised his hand, his tone serious. "Coach, in the first half, we struggled to contain Portugal's passing game. Coach Keegan instructed us at halftime to press aggressively in the second half to disrupt their rhythm in the final third."

Aldrich tilted his head back, staring at the sky in exasperation.

It sounded like the correct adjustment.

But pressing aggressively also requires strategy. If you don't practice it regularly and rely solely on a swarm-like approach, will it work?

If it were that simple, defense in football would be reduced to just running and tackling!

The absence of a tactical approach in high-pressure defending often leads to chaos within the defensive system. This results in disjointed lines, a lack of structure, and an increased vulnerability to being exploited—just like England's third conceded goal in the devastating turnaround.

Pressing requires more than sheer effort; it demands strategy and intelligence.

Take the example of four players surrounding Rui Costa yet failing to prevent him from delivering a second assist. It was a humiliation of the highest order.

England fans have never forgiven Maradona, holding a grudge over his infamous "Hand of God" goal that robbed them of victory. That England team was undoubtedly strong, and if they had been outplayed by Maradona's brilliance, it would have been easier to accept. Indeed, Maradona's solo goal—a masterpiece of dribbling through an entire defense to score—stands as one of the greatest in World Cup history. While Lionel Messi later replicated a similar feat, the two goals exist in separate realms of greatness.

The defense of that generation of English players wasn't flawed; they simply ran into an unstoppable force in Maradona, who combined divine intervention with raw skill. Yet, the current England squad, if dismantled by Rui Costa's individual brilliance, might warrant some sympathy. But to be beaten by a defense strategy as reckless as it was foolish? That evokes a different kind of frustration—a bitter disappointment in their self-sabotaging ineptitude.

Having reviewed all four images and delivered his analysis, Aldrich noticed the players deep in thought, their expressions grave. With a clap of his hands, he broke the silence.

"Alright! We now understand our defensive flaws and what makes our attack dangerous. The next step is to fix our defensive issues and unleash the full potential of our offense!"