Football Dynasty-Chapter 528: Interrogate the Troublemakers

After the FA Cup win, Mourinho was already in Richard’s office.

"I’ve already called their agents. I told them to inform the players that I’m waiting for them at the club," Richard told Mourinho before closing his eyes for a moment. He had miscalculated.

Usually, footballers—especially foreign players, and particularly the younger ones—come to a new place and follow the rules. Some even dread social interactions. Richard had once thought this was bad for them, but letting them try to blend in as locals might not be the answer either.

He thought about Ronaldo... well, scratch that. This was already the second time he had been caught in clubbing-related issues.

What he meant were Ronaldinho, Cannavaro, and Trezeguet. As for Lampard, Ashley Cole, and Paul Robinson, the local players, they were different. They were intimately familiar with their surroundings, unafraid of being bullied, with extensive social networks and plenty of friends. If they wanted to have fun with their money, they had no shortage of people to join them.

As long as it didn’t affect training, and dating didn’t become a distraction... just like Giggs’s "sister-in-law scandal," in the future, which shocked the football world. Richard had no interest in how often they changed partners or partying. After all, romance and fun is a natural part of footballer life.

From his perspective, Giggs’s actions were personal; he hadn’t disrupted his teammates or become a liability on the pitch. Objectively speaking, while he was morally questionable, he remained a role model on the field, someone other players would still have to learn from—just not about his personal life.

Seeing players as individuals, as long as personal behavior didn’t impact their primary responsibilities—playing football—there was no need for the club’s management to impose excessive restrictions.

The Manchester City situation here, in many ways, mirrored what had happened with Liverpool’s notorious Spice Boys.

Individual indulgences—late nights, flashy lifestyles, and now the constant attention from the media—weren’t just personal choices. They combined into a pattern that disrupted team cohesion, sapped focus during training, and, ultimately, eroded performance on the pitch.

The club’s image suffered, and fans grew frustrated. Liverpool, despite having talent in abundance, repeatedly missed out on titles, and outsiders didn’t hesitate to mock them for it. The lesson was clear: you enjoyed partying and womanizing, living it up better than anyone else, and yet expected to hoist the trophy at the season’s end to adoring fans? There was no such luck.

If it weren’t for this, would Richard have intervened? No. Just like when Ronaldinho previously arrived at Maine Road with his new girlfriend, Richard chose to ignore it, as it couldn’t hurt him or the club. But the party from last night? That was inexcusable.

If this unhealthy trend were allowed to continue unchecked, who knew how many players would be influenced? Especially now, with them already starting to influence the first-team players.

After noon, some players finally walked into the meeting room.

The first were Frank Lampard and Ashley Cole.

Ashley Cole, dressed casually, stepped in, glancing nervously from Richard’s sharp, unreadable eyes to Mourinho’s impassive expression, and finally to Baltazar Brito, who had joined them a moment later, looking concerned.

"B-boss... Coach... I—I left early yesterday! I really did!" he stammered.

Ashley Cole had never been interrogated like this before. Never by someone with the power to dictate the trajectory of his career.

The problem was that, when the new season began and he turned eighteen, the club had offered him a generous professional contract upon his promotion to the first team. He had been riding high lately, never expecting that a night out with the older players would lead to such a predicament!

"Tell me what happened last night," Richard said.

Ashley Cole steadied himself, barely able to sit down. He glanced at Lampard, and seeing him nod, he began recounting the events.

After having dinner with his family on Christmas Day, he was basically bored when he received a text message from Ronaldinho. The curious young man, feeling a sense of independence, decided to check out the nightlife and went to a club with some friends.

However, by midnight, he felt sleepy. Just then, Ronaldo shocked them all by introducing over thirty call girls. Ashley Cole was nearly scared to death. While he wasn’t exactly a model citizen, he was only eighteen and felt utterly shy under the spotlight. He hurriedly left the club with his friends. He had no idea what happened next—he swore he was telling the truth.

Richard nodded. "You?" he said, pointing at Lampard.

In contrast to Ashley Cole, Lampard was much more relaxed; when Ashley had left, he was already happily chatting with two women.

Richard was simply curious about the whole night. He had a plan in mind regarding punishment, but it didn’t involve judging anyone’s actions with women or counting how many were involved.

The two coaches and the anxious Ashley Cole continued waiting in the meeting room for the rest of the notified players to arrive, one by one.

Each time someone entered, Richard would ask them about last night’s events. Some shared detailed accounts, prompting him to tell them to hush, while others were too embarrassed to speak, suddenly pretending to be innocent.

By evening, the three main figures from last night finally showed up—the ones reportedly responsible for financing the party: Ronaldo and Paul Robinson, followed by Cannavaro.

When they arrived, the atmosphere instantly shifted to one of palpable tension.

The only one who spoke most calmly and gave the clearest explanation, aside from Ashley Cole, was Fabio Cannavaro. He had accepted the invitation simply because he could and was bored at home.

"Boss... Coach..." Fabio began, his voice calm but respectful. "I... I take full responsibility for my choices. Last night, I went because I was tired of staying at home. It wasn’t about showing off or leading anyone astray. I knew my responsibilities, and I understand now that I should have been more careful. I... I won’t let it happen again."

Richard’s eyes flicked briefly toward Mourinho. He gave a small nod, almost imperceptible, but it was enough. He believed him.

Sitting at the head of the table with his chin raised, Richard glared at the duo, especially Ronaldo. They shifted awkwardly in their seats, quickly bowing their heads in shame.

The aftermath of last night’s exploits made the news even bigger than yesterday’s Champions League group stage exit. It seemed that City players throwing a wild party had an explosive impact on the headlines.

Once scornful of Liverpool’s notorious Spice Boys, Richard now found his own players repeating many of the same mistakes. Could it get any more explosive?

Ah, but it wasn’t explosive enough.

Why weren’t there any bigger names involved?

If only names like Pirlo, Zidane, or Makélélé had joined the fun—how wonderful that would have been!

The two main characters didn’t dare look Richard in the eye. The heavy silence in the meeting room was unbearable for them; they bowed their heads and closed their eyes, as if awaiting their fate like prisoners on death row.

"You’ve given me a Christmas gift I’ll never forget!" Mourinho said coldly.

Richard didn’t intervene.

Ronaldo coughed but still raised his head, though he avoided Richard’s glare, and stammered, "Boss, the truth isn’t what the papers say. It wasn’t my idea; it was my friends’."

At least the initial intention of going to the nightclub hadn’t been to throw a wild party. Most of these players had received new contracts six months earlier with substantial pay raises—they were young and rich.

Christmas was a time when everyone had the chance to go out and have fun, so they gathered to hit the clubs. It started with drinks, dancing, and singing, but as the group grew, they realized there were no women around. The "good girls" they knew weren’t attractive, so they opted to hire some pretty call girls—a decision made by Ronaldo’s friends without his input.

"Is it your new friend?"

Ronaldo froze, caught off guard.

"I ask... is this new friend of yours someone new, or have you known them for a while?" Richard pressed, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

"...I’ve known them... probably for two years," Ronaldo muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Which means you knew them when you were already a professional footballer, right?" Richard’s tone was calm but edged with steel, making the words land heavier than any shout.

"...Yes..." Ronaldo admitted, lowering his eyes further.

Richard sighed, a long, deliberate sound that filled the room. Friends—how easily habits rub off, especially when money and freedom come into play.

The people you interact with can have a way of leading you astray. It’s not just about partying or breaking rules once. It’s subtle: a joke here, a small indulgence there, and before you know it, it becomes a pattern. And in football, patterns off the pitch show up on the pitch.

Discipline falters, focus wanes, and suddenly what seemed harmless becomes a problem you can’t ignore.

Richard understood, though. Most of them—still young and wanting to save face—didn’t speak up. Men are sensitive when it comes to socializing with women. Rejecting an invitation can often lead to ridicule or misunderstandings.

"Friends? Sure. Which superstar has ever gone astray without the influence of their buddies? There’s always a crowd around them," Richard interrupted Ronaldo’s explanation. "What a pathetic excuse. Gascoigne had plenty of friends too."

It’s worth noting that at this point, Gascoigne was perhaps the most typical living example of this situation.