Football Dynasty-Chapter 14: Nominated

"Mr. Richard, may I ask you something?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Cussons."

Cussons.

If you focused on the surname "Cussons," it would be impossible not to recognize the name.

Simon Cussons, the managing director of the giant cosmetics company that bore his family's name, came from a legacy not unlike that of the current chairman.

His great-grandfather, Thomas Cussons, founded the company—coincidentally, in 1894—with his son, Alexander. Cussons, Son & Co soon expanded into a derelict mill in Kersal Moor, Salford, transforming it into a 14-acre factory that produced soap, talcum powder, cosmetics, and perfumes.

After Alexander Cussons' death in 1951, the chairmanship passed to his son, Leslie. Simon Cussons, one of Leslie's two children, inherited a significant stake in the company, along with his share of vast landholdings in Cheshire, Derbyshire, and the Isle of Man.

Simon later joined Peter Donoghue's attempted takeover consortium but took a different path, which earned him a seat on City's board.

Around that time, it seemed an agreement had been made with Eric Alexander to succeed his father as chairman. For that deal to work, Joe Smith had likely promised not to use his large block of shares to unseat Eric.

It's not entirely clear what Simon said to each board member to sway them into giving him the leeway to overlook the covenant. However, it was announced during the stormy period of the board meeting that he had joined the City board.

Richard cast a pitying glance at the current president, Joe Smith. The very "large block of shares" strategy Joe had once used to threaten Eric and his father was now being used against him — the same tactic that had ultimately cost him the chance to become chairman.

It wasn't hard to figure out. In Richard's version of the meeting pack, there was a wealth of information about the club — detailed backgrounds on each board member, key documents, and even specific instructions on the actions he needed to take.

Someone had clearly gone out of their way to prepare him for what lay ahead. It felt like an invisible hand was guiding him through the chaos, setting him up for success at this meeting. Realizing this, he glanced at Peter and wanted to give him a thumbs-up.

"First, I apologize if my question comes off as a bit blunt. Uh, Mr. Maddox, no, Mr. Richard, are you okay with this decision?"

Richard was momentarily puzzled by the question and tilted his head. "Could you please clarify what you mean, sir?"

"I mean the single share. Are you comfortable with this?"

It was only then that he understood what they were referring to. For someone like him, simply being a part of a football club was already an achievement to be proud of. But to them, owning just a single share wasn't enough—it almost felt a bit insulting.

Richard smiled wryly. "Sir, when I first went unresponsive in the CT scanner, I was in surgery within minutes. Had I been anywhere else, things could have turned out very differently. I was being operated on just 61 minutes later. The next thing I remember is waking up. Everything was a blur. I remember feeling a lot of pain."

"I was sleeping 20-22 hours a day. They would wake me up for a few tests, check my blood pressure, and so on, but most of the time, I just had to sleep. Recovering from an injury like that takes a toll on your body. You need to pace yourself. I had staples and metal plates in my head. It was so severe, they tried not to overwhelm me."

"For a while, I thought about getting back onto the pitch once I recovered. In fact, I had already started thinking about going back to Yorkshire to start over. Every day I'd jog up and down. Although there was still some dizziness, by the end of my break, I was running at about 70 or 80%, twisting, turning, and kicking a ball again. That time off really gave me the belief I could come back."

The room fell silent, their expressions complex. 'What a good lad. Why did his love for football have to be taken from him?'

"I convinced myself I was just a few weeks away from playing for the first team again. I thought I could get back in the team, play in a local tournament, and then hopefully return to the First Division. That's where my mind was at, but then, out of nowhere, I started feeling dizzy again and went for another scan..." Richard paused, taking a deep breath. "That scan changed everything."

The room was still, everyone hanging on his words.

"I still love football, and fortunately, I'm fit enough for a kickabout. But it wasn't safe to play professionally again. I considered coaching or managing a team, but even that didn't seem like a safe option. Would the thrill of scoring a goal keep me seated? If my team made a comeback or won a championship, would I be able to resist getting swept up in the excitement?"

Richard shook his head as he mocked himself.

"It's incredibly difficult. But then Mr. Swales extended his hand, offering me a chance to join Manchester City. How could I say no? Football is my life. I love the game. No other club offered me this kind of opportunity, but Manchester City was the first to reach out. How could I not be touched by that? So, with all humility, gentlemen, please help me. I want to be a part of Manchester City Football Club."

Each person in that room, even the most stoic among them, was visibly moved. Some seemed to be fighting the lump in their throats.

It was as though they were witnessing a man laying down his soul before them—a man whose passion for the game had been stripped away, yet whose love for football still burned brighter than ever.

One by one, the board members exchanged looks—some with wide-eyed sympathy, others with expressions of sheer admiration. How could anyone not be moved by this?

Peter Swales, who had been sitting motionless, his hands folded tightly in front of him, slowly leaned forward, his eyes glistening with emotion. He had never expected the one he had recruit to have such a rich story.

He had thought it was just an injury, something very normal for a footballer, but now he understood.

His decision hadn't been wrong. It wasn't just about football anymore; it was about the very essence of passion, sacrifice, and the will to keep going even when everything seemed lost.

Swales stood, his face a mixture of pride and compassion. "Richard," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "you've proven more than your commitment to football. You've proven your heart, your soul, and your unwavering belief in what this game truly means. Manchester City is lucky to have you. And we will do everything in our power to ensure that you're part of this club for as long as you wish."

The entire room erupted into applause. Everyone looked at Richard with a mix of complexity and sympathy. He had inspired everyone in that room to see football as more than just a sport, but as a way of life, a journey, a dream.

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And just like that, Manchester City Football Club would never be the same again.

The response from everyone was overwhelmingly positive.

The only issue now was how to bypass the covenant.

Everyone agreed they wanted to follow the established practice of using a unanimous vote to approve Richard's nomination as the new director. No one felt threatened by his presence—it was just a single share, and so, everyone was quite accommodating.

However, no one was willing to be the first to recommend this course of action. The reason was clear.

The city solicitor, Mr. Frank Shepherd, had already made his position known regarding the covenant. As a club that prides itself on tradition, they could not disregard the covenant. This meant that those who had previously failed to honor it should not repeat that mistake.

Now, his words had backfired. Yet, the room remained calm. Given Mr. Shepherd's legal expertise, it was clear that he had considered all options before speaking, and everyone trusted he had a solution in mind.

"That's why I suggested we use the president's vacant seat," he said, waving his hand to signal everyone to stop speaking. "Not to dismiss him or anything. In fact, we have another solution for this."

Everyone looked at him with expectation. Since everyone agreed, they now controlled the majority of the vote.

The question was only how to work around the covenant so that when the minutes of the meeting were recorded, everything would appear legitimate.

This way, if Manchester City had future plans to go public and be listed, all the information that became publicly available would be free of any legal, ethical, or development-related issues.

"The goal now is to ensure that Richard can join the board without violating the covenant's stipulation about the number of directors. The president, who is unable to attend meetings due to illness, is effectively not participating in the governance of the club. Am I right, gentleman?"

Everyone nodded, clearly familiar with the situation.

"Then we can claim the seat is effectively vacant, even if it's still technically occupied by the current president on paper. While the position may not be part of the active decision-making board, it could still hold formal standing. This is possible, right, Mr. Gordon?"

Naturally, for something like this, they needed the barrister's opinion.

Gordon, the barrister leaned in and responded, "So, you're asking if you can justify the absence and non-fulfillment of responsibilities by the honorary president, allowing Mr. Richard to be offered this 'vacant' seat without violating the covenant?"

"Exactly. No one has formally 'left,' and no shares have been transferred. We see this as a practical matter. Since the president hasn't been participating or transferring his shares to an outsider, there's no violation, correct?"

"Hmmm," the barrister pondered. 'Since the honorary president is no longer attending meetings, we can frame his absence as 'inactive,' making the seat eligible to be filled by someone else. Therefore, the seat can be considered 'vacant' in terms of board participation. This would allow Richard's nomination to be justified as a way to strengthen the board.'

"Then what if the president suddenly attends the meeting? Are you prepared to face the consequences?"

With that question, everyone turned their attention toward Richard.

If the president were to suddenly wake up from his bed and learn about this, there's a possibility he might hold Richard accountable or even take legal action.

Since he doesn't know the full details of the situation, he might view this as a violation of his position and the club's governance, potentially assuming that the board members had bypassed proper procedures.