Football Dynasty-Chapter 208: Manchester City vs Millwall Part 2: Worst of the Worst

Chapter 208: Manchester City vs Millwall Part 2: Worst of the Worst

On March 24th, in their 40th fixture of the First Division League, Manchester City played an away match against Millwall.

With just six rounds remaining in the season, the top of the league table remains unchanged.

Manchester City, Derby County, and Crystal Palace continue to dominate the standings, each maintaining a commanding lead of seven to eight points. The pressure is mounting, and excitement is building as fans anticipate a thrilling finish to the campaign.

"Following back-to-back away matches, Martin O’Neill and his squad now return to The Den, where supporters will be eager to see their team push for a strong finish. With everything still to play for, all eyes are on the scoreboard—what will it read after 90 minutes?" the commentator shouted excitedly.

"NO ONE LIKES US, WE DON’T CARE!"

The chant thundered through The Den as Millwall fans roared in unison, a wall of sound echoing across the stadium.

Though British football hooliganism has garnered global notoriety, there’s no denying that the passion of the fans here is unmatched anywhere in the world. Supporters don’t cheer based on whether their team plays with flair or caution. They don’t go silent when the scoreboard turns against them.

For these fans, loyalty runs deeper than form or fortune—it is a lifelong bond, often passed down through generations, to a single club.

A Football Club like Millwall might be one of the few clubs in the world where its fans were more famous than the club itself.

As a small team in the south of London, they did not have many achievements and honors to show off, and they did not have any big-name stars. But they had the most fearless group of fans in the U.K., and even in the world.

"FUCK YOU!!!"

"GO BACK TO MANCHESTER!!!"

Ah, so it had already begun.

About a hundred hardcore City fans, clad in their sky-blue jerseys, stood defiantly—shouting, cursing, and hurling obscene gestures at the Millwall supporters. The Millwall fans, tightly packed in their own phalanx, responded in kind with a barrage of insults and hand signals.

But despite the tension crackling in the air, neither side crossed the line into physical violence.

The London Metropolitan Police Service had already positioned themselves between the two groups—fully armed, alert, and ready to intervene at the first sign of escalation.

At an intersection, police surrounded both sides—it was time for the City team bus to pass through.

They had clearly learned their lesson from what happened at Maine Road.

Though the Millwall fans had stopped moving, they remained on the edge of chaos, just beyond the reach of the still-abusive and frenzied City supporters.

The match itself was far less exciting than the clash between the two sets of fans in the stands. At this time, the Millwall supporters once again took center stage.

They relentlessly taunted the City players and fans throughout the stadium. Especially when William Gallas received the ball, they made monkey noises at him. Literally, every time he had the ball or made a challenge, the Millwall fans sounded ape-like jeers.

From the sidelines, even City staff could hear taunts like "Here, your banana," along with the hateful shouts of "You black bastard."

It’s not just the words that hurt. It was the threatening tone in their voices. Despite many of them being kids it was real hatred. Thanks to this kind of intimidation, which bordered on threatening behavior, Manchester City conceded a goal—thanks to a header by Richard Cadette.

Millwall 1 - 0 Manchester City

Both Manchester City and Millwall set up in a 4-4-2 formation.

The only difference was that while City liked to attack using overlapping fullbacks, Millwall, like a traditional English club, opted for long passes to create threats.

Even after conceding, City remained focused and determined. The more Millwall relied on their long-ball tactic, the more City thrived by executing quick ground counter-attacks.

Unexpectedly, just five minutes before the first half ended, an astonishing scene unfolded on the pitch.

The incident occurred just after City’s late equalizer, scored by Henrik Larsson before the end of the first half.

Naturally, the players celebrated the goal without provoking or taunting the home fans, yet a mob of thirty or more suddenly poured onto the pitch and started heading towards them.

"POLICE!" O’Neill immediately shouted, calling for assistance as he saw the players in a dangerous situation.

Fortunately, the mob was held back before they could reach the players. But the message was clear enough: scare another and we will do you.

It sounds ridiculous, but that’s exactly what happened in this match.

Thanks to this, O’Neill and the City staff made an appeal to the officials to abandon the match, but they were assured that the game was safe and that the police were already on high alert.

Though dissatisfied with this, in the end, O’Neill could only nod his head, and the match continued.

Millwall 1 - 1 Manchester City

Sure enough, less than five minutes later—exactly at the 44th minute—the worst of the worst happened.

Millwall sent a long ball into City’s penalty area.

The ball was easily cleared by Materazzi’s header and fell to Van Bommel, who sparked a counter-attack. But as the ball reached Cafu’s feet, the referee suddenly blew the whistle and turned toward Millwall’s defense.

Everyone’s eyes darted to Millwall’s backline.

They saw Materazzi angrily shouting at a Millwall forward who was rolling on the ground!

"WOAAAHH!!!"

The fans shouted wildly, clearly excited by the spectacle. freewebnøvel.com

"Vaffanculo! Ma che cazzo fai?! Stronzo!!!" Materazzi was seen shouting angrily at him. (F*** off! What the f*** are you doing?! Asshole!!!)

Meanwhile, the Millwall forward clutched his face, screaming in agony as pain radiated through him. His teammates rushed over, concern etched on their faces, while the tension on the pitch thickened.

The crowd’s roar fluctuated between boos and gasps, caught up in the drama unfolding before them.

Tempers flared instantly.

Millwall players surrounded Materazzi, accusing him angrily, while City’s squad stood firm, ready to defend their teammate.

The situation grew heated, and it seemed their teammates were on the verge of breaking into a full-blown fight.

"What happened?" O’Neill furrowed his brow and turned toward the coaching staff, having missed the incident.

Robertson leaned in quietly and replied, "It seems Marco slapped Richard Cadette down to the ground."

O’Neill’s eyes widened as he stood up abruptly. A chorus of boos erupted from the stands, drowning out the sounds of the game, as the referee swiftly brandished a red card in front of Materazzi!

Was Materazzi really being sent off for violence in a non-competitive situation?

O’Neill mulled over the possibility. It was certainly within the referee’s authority—but for what exact reason?

A momentary loss of temper? A heated verbal exchange? Provocation?

The coach knew that in moments like these, discipline was paramount. Yet, emotions on the pitch often boiled over in the heat of battle, blurring the line between passion and recklessness.

Only the swift intervention of the referees and the tightly positioned police officers prevented the clash from erupting. However, while the police and security focused on the events unfolding on the pitch, they overlooked the most dangerous threat—not on the field, but in the stands.

It was a time when the police patrol force was distracted, overstretched, and under immense stress.

The crowd began to shift—one or two Millwall fans, emboldened by the lax security, started shouting provocations at the City supporters nearby.

What began as scattered jeers quickly escalated into verbal sparring that spilled over into shoving and jostling.

Barriers collapsed, and people spilled onto the aisles.

A punch was thrown. Then another.

The lines between fans blurred as a full-scale clash erupted in the stands. Bottles flew, and the stadium shook with shouts and curses.

The already stretched police scrambled to intervene, but it was too late.

As the violence escalated, a group of Millwall fans surged forward, pushing past barriers and spilling onto the pitch. The invasion caught everyone off guard—players froze, referees called for order, and the crowd’s roar turned into chaos.

"Everyone, get off the pitch! Quickly, quickly!" O’Neill shouted urgently, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, he directed his command not only at the City players but also at his coaching staff, because the police and stewards no longer seemed to have any control.

Millwall fans went around smashing up their own area and fighting the police, and unexpectedly, the first casualty wasn’t a player or staff but Martin O’Neill himself!

Amid the confusion, O’Neill was near the sideline, trying to keep his players calm and signaling for order.

Suddenly, a surge of the unruly crowd pushed forward. In the crush, O’Neill was caught off balance.

A fan, losing control, shoved him hard from behind. He stumbled backward, his foot catching awkwardly on the uneven ground. As he fell, his body twisted sharply, and he landed heavily on his hip against the concrete edge near the dugout. He tried to rise but found his hip unresponsive and agonizingly stiff.

Robertson, seeing this, immediately rushed over to assist.

Security forces hurriedly moved to contain the mob, but the damage was done.

The match was halted, and pandemonium ruled the stadium. It was a stark reminder that when vigilance slips, football passion can quickly spiral into dangerous anarchy.