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Chapter 280: Christmas Showdown

Trailing in points, Aldrich brought his defending champion team here and would naturally not adopt a conservative strategy. Settling for a draw would mean conceding momentum to Manchester United.

He expected Ferguson to play more conservatively, yet even after being beaten by Aldrich's side twice last season, Ferguson's team played explosively at home today.

United had changed; the new generation of Red Devils was now expected to deliver results under Ferguson!

Without discussing tactics, just in terms of player movements, Millwall was at a disadvantage, struggling to maintain even basic balance.

Especially on the flanks, with Giggs and Beckham, this golden duo not only excelled in both dribbling and crossing but was also relentless workers on the field!

In the past, Millwall had exploited Manchester United's weak flank defense, but those moments seemed a thing of the past now.

Ten years ago, it was normal for players to cover ten kilometers in a match; reaching twelve or thirteen kilometers marked them as ironmen.

However, Beckham's average running distance this season is over thirteen kilometers, sometimes even exceeding fifteen!

Giggs also matched this intensity, meaning that even with only two midfielders, Keane and Scholes, United's defense remained strong.

Scholes, a former shadow striker turned attacking midfielder, had made a remarkable leap this season; while his performance was average last year, he had now reached masterful levels on both offensive and defensive ends. Alongside the tough Keane, their diamond midfield formed a potent combination not inferior to any top club!

The only glaring weakness was the forward lineup—Solskjaer's injury left Andy Cole and Sheringham struggling to impress. Though they scored, their tally fell short of what a top-tier striker should achieve.

In this biting rain, Aldridge missed Nedved a little.

Lampard could not replace Nedved; his playing style had developed into something quite different.

If he was to perform late surging shots from the attacking midfielder position, he needed to be deeper on the field. He lacked the awareness to dribble past defenders under a forward's cover. Whether he had the ability was unclear to Aldrich, but Lampard was already accustomed to shooting from outside the box.

Pirlo struggled to form a connection with him, often trying to send through balls he thought were aimed at the forwards, not him.

Aldrich nearly pointed at Schmeichel from the sidelines, shouting at Lampard: "In the attack, your opponent is this Danish goalkeeper, not Keane!"

Lampard seemed bogged down by positional duels; perhaps Aldrich needed to fix him into positions closer to Pirlo or Makelele.

Yet if he was to slot behind Pirlo and Ballack, Makelele had Gattuso ahead of him.

This was a headache for Aldrich; after all, Millwall's attacking midfielders played more like second strikers.

Today's match was a clash of Premier League titans, with an extraordinarily fast pace. United was notorious for their rapid play, using the width of the pitch to create substantial threats.

During an attack, Scholes surged forward, combining with Giggs. However, he was taken down by Makelele, leading to a free kick.

The drizzle continued, and in front of Millwall's wall stood Beckham.

A free kick less than thirty yards from goal. Aldrich paced along the sidelines, his expression heavy.

This season, Beckham's free kicks had scored numerous goals, and there was a wave of admiration for him across English football.

As the ball left his foot, Aldrich's heart sank.

That trajectory looked all too familiar!

The free kick, arcing dramatically, soared over the wall, just inches past Southgate's head, barely avoiding contact.

Butt didn't even attempt a save; the ball was aimed toward the wall and curved sharply—a banana kick that nestled into the far corner of the net. By the time he reacted, it was left to chance.

"Beckham's signature free kick finds the net! With Erwin no longer taking free kicks, United has a new master in Beckham! This is their secret weapon! He exploited Millwall's only weakness—the height of their defensive aerial presence! The combination of Elkhla and Southgate had only height as their exploitable flaw; Beckham's strike sailed just above Southgate and dipped in under the bar. Hall must be thinking: If it were Stam, that ball would have surely been cleared."

Millwall's players looked dejected; conceding from a free kick left them without anger to vent.

The Red Devils' fans at Old Trafford celebrated exuberantly.

"We're ahead! Finally, we're f***ing ahead!"

Since Millwall's promotion, United had only defeated them once in the Community Shield. In the first league season, they drew, and in cup matches, Millwall had triumphed. The following season, they suffered a double defeat, including their Community Shield loss.

After finally reaching their third season, United was finally in charge!

"Ref, the match is over; you can blow the final whistle. We've only got to win one!"

Millwall's fans remained more composed.

"It's only the first half! We're not even halfway through—calm down. The Lions will recover, just wait and see! Even with two key players missing, we can still smash the Red Devils!"

It was Christmas Day, and the visiting fans had come to receive the holiday gift provided by the Red Devils.

During stoppage time in the first half, Millwall earned a direct free kick from just outside the box.

It looks like Keane has a bit of a grudge against Lampard; he injured him in the Community Shield, and today, his tackles against Lampard were noticeably rougher. The referee could only intervene by awarding the free kick to Millwall and giving Keane a yellow card for his trouble.

Three players stood over the ball for the free kick.

Schneider, Lampard, and Pirlo.

Each had a unique style for taking free kicks.

Schneider aimed for a curved shot, Lampard for a powerful drive, while Pirlo refined his trademark "leaves fall" shot.

As the three stood over the ball, Schmeichel yelled commands at his teammates. Although he appeared fearless, inside he was a bundle of nerves.

Damn it, who among you three is going to take the free kick?

Schneider ran over, followed closely by Lampard. After the two crossed, Pirlo took a free kick. The ball didn't fly over the wall; Instead, he aimed directly at the human wall and accurately passed through the gap in the human wall.

Schmeichel turned to check and found the ball rolling quietly beneath him.

He shouted angrily:

"What did I say? Who the hell chickened out? Who the hell jumped sideways and left a gap for the ball to sneak through? If I end up being the background for another loss today, you better watch out!"

Schmeichel was fed up with Millwall. Every time they faced off in the last two years, he found himself unable to sleep for a week afterward. A single game, two games, three games—countless times. Was he still the Danish goalkeeper? Facing Millwall was turning him into a hex!

"Uh, Millwall has equalized with a free kick! While Pirlo's kick didn't look as beautiful as Beckham's, the outcome was the same. The Lions have leveled it just before heading into the locker room for the break—this is a critical goal. Coming in at a one-goal deficit would have placed them at a significant disadvantage."

Aldrich was passionately detailing tasks to the players at halftime, with a focus on adjusting the attacking tactics for the forward line.

Gudjohnsen, Trezeguet, and Shevchenko still had not formed a cohesive unit. His positioning was a bit rigid, often sticking to the left side. Aldrich repeatedly urged him to move more dynamically into the middle and right to create space and penetrate United's defensive structure.

This would also allow Lampard to observe the situation more calmly. Whenever there was an opening, he could make a run; he shouldn't always rely on linking up as the attacking midfielder or fall into the trap of playing either direct passes or long shots in front of the box. He should dare to try and break through!

Once back from the locker room, Aldrich lifted his head anxiously toward the sky.

Manchester's weather is as fickle as a woman's mood.

It changes in an instant.

Just before halftime, it had seemed like the rain had stopped, but within twenty minutes, it was pouring again—harder than before!

Neither side had anticipated such a rapid weather shift. However, United, having played in Manchester for years, was accustomed to such fluctuations.

As the second half kicked off, Zambrotta slipped and fell while defending on the left, injuring himself in the process!

Though Beckham ran long distances, he wasn't particularly fast. It was merely a routine stop-and-go, but Zambrotta fell while moving horizontally, allowing Beckham to carry the ball forward and deliver a precise cross into the box. Sheringham's header was saved by Butt, but Cole followed up with a shot, only for Butt to heroically block it again.

Just as Millwall's fans were praising Butt's incredible saves, the ball landed at the edge of the penalty area, where Scholes unleashed a powerful shot into the net.

The ball ricocheted off Makelele's shin before going in.

Butt stood up, hands on hips, looking helpless.

United's fans were in tears—scoring was proving too difficult.

"Sheringham and Cole, can you be a bit more reliable? With such short-range chances squandered, Do you want to rely entirely on Scholes to help us out? . Damn, it's stressing us out!"

Aldridge, who seemed a little unconcerned on the sidelines, walked to the bench and quickly sent Neal to warm up, taking over the position where Zambrotta sprained his ankle when he slipped.

The young Italian was furious.

Capdevila has recently returned from injury, but Gianluca Zambrotta is already firmly in the starting lineup. He thought he could finally keep his position, but he was injured again in this rainy game.

It felt like fate was against him!

Millwall fans displayed concern; they had held it together in the first half, but the second half was different. With the team now behind and losing another key player, things were looking grim.

After Neil came on for Zambrotta, this forced substitution required time to adjust to the game's rhythm, so Millwall naturally tightened up for five to six minutes until Neil was back in sync before they fully unleashed their attack.