Football Dynasty

Richard had already instructed Adam Lewis—his current legal counsel for Maddox Capital—to secure early stakes in promising tech companies like AltaVista and DoubleClick shortly after selling part of his shares in Netscape.

Does he want to stop?

Naturally, no.

Following his successful investment ventures in the United States, Richard had already set his sights on Sky Sports.

As everyone knows, Rupert Murdoch held significant influence in the UK media landscape, owning major outlets like The Sun, The Times, and The News of the World. However, his biggest gamble during the late 1980s and early 1990s was Sky Group Limited.

As early as 1980, the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) recognized the rising importance of satellite television and set its sights on becoming the UK's leading satellite TV operator. It applied for two satellite channels to broadcast its programming, aiming to pioneer a new era of British broadcasting.

In 1982, the British government approved the BBC's application, allowing it to begin satellite broadcasting by 1986. However, the government provided no financial support, and the BBC was unwilling to shoulder the financial risk alone. As a result, the BBC withdrew from the project.

In the wake of the BBC's retreat, a consortium of media companies—led by Jardin Owens of Pearson Publishing, the parent company of the Financial Times—formed British Satellite Broadcasting (BSB). The group aimed to launch a television and radio satellite service in 1989, with ambitions to dominate the UK's satellite TV landscape.

What the government hadn't foreseen, however, was a sudden shift in the market.

Just one year after BSB's formation, Owens and Rupert Murdoch—owner of Super Station Europe (SATV)—shocked the industry by announcing a merger between BSB and Murdoch's Sky Television. The result was the creation of British Sky Broadcasting, better known as BSkyB—a move that would reshape British television for decades to come.

Originally, nothing was supposed to go wrong—but day by day, Rupert Murdoch's influence within BSkyB quietly grew. Before long, it could be said that Murdoch had gained full control of the company when BSkyB effectively became the UK's sole satellite TV operator, owned and steered by the media tycoon's News Corporation.

Thanks to this, BSkyB came to monopolize satellite television broadcasting in the UK. Notably, however, the company was no longer under British control—it was owned by an outsider: the Australian-born, American media mogul Rupert Murdoch. Yet, BSkyB's path to success was anything but easy.

In truth, BSkyB's early days were marked by massive financial losses—millions of pounds evaporated daily.

The future looked uncertain, and few believed the fledgling satellite broadcaster would survive. But everything changed with the dawn of the Premier League.

The formation of the new league for the 1992/93 season—widely believed to have been influenced by promises of higher TV revenue—opened a door Sky had been waiting for. And they didn't hesitate to walk through it.

It was also due to the complacency of the BBC and ITV that Sky Sports suddenly surged. By aligning closely with Premier League officials to help bring the league into existence, Sky positioned itself at the heart of a new era in English football broadcasting.

BSkyB famously outbid ITV with a staggering £304 million offer to secure the exclusive live broadcasting rights for Premier League matches in the UK and Ireland over a five-year period.

With that move, they took top-flight English football off free-to-air terrestrial TV for the first time.

From 1 September 1992 onward, Sky Sports became a subscription-based channel, available either on its own or at a discounted rate when bundled with Sky's movie channels.

Last year, Rupert Murdoch made an ambitious move by launching a classic sports service called Sky Sports Gold on their new secondary channel, Sky Sports 2.

The purpose of this channel was to accommodate a substantial number of new broadcasting rights Sky had recently acquired, including the English Football League, the League Cup, and Scottish football.

But it only took one wrong move.

Sky Sports Gold quickly became the subject of a formal complaint by rival network Screensport, which argued that the new channel restricted and distorted competition in the sports broadcasting market. As a result, Sky was forced to pull out of the venture and faced a lawsuit.

At the time, Murdoch's Sky had yet to break even, and rather than settle the claim outright, Murdoch chose to dig in. He hired top-tier lawyers to fight the case in court, prolonging the legal battle for as long as possible.

It was during this legal chaos that Richard, fresh from a successful run of investments in the U.S., saw his chance to get on board—and make his move.

In his view, boosting broadcasting revenue was secondary; the rapid rise in recognition was the real priority.

Television broadcasts were essential for a team's visibility—fans naturally gravitated toward professional commentary. Without it, even if City played exceptionally well, a lackluster commentator would fail to engage viewers.

As for whether Manchester City would deliver an exciting performance, Richard had no doubts. With a lineup that boasted the likes of Ronaldo, Thierry Henry, Jay-Jay Okocha, Hidetoshi Nakata, and a young Andrea Pirlo, what more could he possibly ask for?

Dribbling flair? Absolutely.

Visionary, defense-splitting passes? In abundance.

Flair, pace, creativity, and technical brilliance—this was a team built not just to win, but to entertain.

Richard had impeccable timing. The fact that he was willing to invest £25 million for just a 16% stake in Sky made Rupert Murdoch secretly giddy—he thought Richard was a fool, throwing money into a company that was bleeding losses.

But then last season, everything changed.

When Manchester United clinched the Premier League title, Sky's fortunes soared overnight.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the company's revenue ballooned—bags of cash and stacks of checks poured in daily. Within a year, Sky had pulled off a miraculous turnaround, going from deep losses to posting a staggering £70 million in profit.

Richard genuinely felt like kissing Martin Edwards and thanking Manchester United. Yes, Sky's profits hadn't just come from domestic fans—they had surged thanks to massive international viewership. And that was largely due to United's global appeal and marketing savvy, which had turned them into a worldwide phenomenon.

The lawsuit from Screensport now seemed like nothing compared to the record-breaking income they had raked in last year.

Murdoch, once amused by Richard's investment, was now deeply regretted his decision. And now, Maddox Capital only owned a small slice of Sky—but they were already making demands!

And this wasn't a demand he could refuse—and what made him even angrier was that it wasn't Richard Maddox himself negotiating, but his lawyer. That only added fuel to his frustration!

Murdoch had been locked in a heated argument with Adam Lewis—acting on Richard's orders—regarding the 1996/1997 season.

Richard's demands were clear: first, Sky Sports had to prioritize Manchester City in their coverage, at least placing them in the top-tier broadcast list. Second, Sky Sports had to allow Ric Turner's bar to use the Sky Sports name for promotional purposes.

A bar!

How could Murdoch not be angry at such an unreasonable demand?"

In essence, Richard aimed to transform Ric Turner's bar into an official gathering spot for local City fans—a place where supporters could watch the matches together if they couldn't attend the stadium.

Naturally, Rupert Murdoch was no ordinary man. A self-made billionaire and media mogul, he wasn't someone easily pushed around.

But Richard wasn't easy either.

He delivered a bold ultimatum: "If you disagree, fine. But don't blame me if I start interfering with Sky Sports' management… or if I sell my 16% stake to either the BBC or ITV. Which one would you prefer?"

That was enough to make Murdoch uneasy.

The BBC—and even parts of the UK government—had long been looking for cracks in Sky's monopoly. And worse still, Richard was a local, while Murdoch remained the outsider. Like it or not, Murdoch couldn't afford to say no.

And Richard's bet was right.

In fact, two of his bets paid off: first, Murdoch accepted his proposal, and second, City delivered a spectacular performance.

Not even a minute had passed, and Manchester City were already delivering one of their best performances.

The match cuts back to Martin Tyler and Andy Gray in the commentary box.

"Alright, folks, the first match of the 1995/96 English Premier League season is about to kick off!" said Martin Tyler.

"Manchester City will get us underway, attacking from left to right."

As both teams lined up for kickoff, Richard stood in the director's box alongside Marina and Miss Heysen, eyes locked on the field.

He leaned forward and muttered, "Come on, lads."

The referee for today's game was Paul Durkin, a well-respected official who had been officiating since 1974.

With a single sharp blast of his whistle, the match between Newcastle United and Manchester City officially began.

Larsson gently nudged the ball, and Ronaldo quickly laid it back.

The two forwards immediately burst into a sprint, creating space up front.

The ball was passed to Neil Lennon, but Newcastle's front line—Alan Shearer and Les Ferdinand—applied high pressure right away.

Lennon calmly passed the ball back to McNamara. Despite the intensity from the Newcastle forwards, McNamara and Lennon worked together smoothly, exchanging quick passes to evade the pressure and push the play forward.

Lennon turned just in time to see Shearer closing in. Without hesitation, he swung a diagonal pass to the right flank.

Zanetti, who had charged forward right from kickoff, received the ball in space. David Batty was still struggling to find his rhythm, allowing Zanetti to break into Newcastle's half with ease and maintain control of the ball.

Only the left-back remained.

Newcastle's John Beresford dropped his stance, bracing to block a potential breakthrough. But instead of driving forward, Zanetti paused, took two calculated steps, and suddenly launched a diagonal long pass into the box!

Shevchenko darted to the right, dragging Darren Peacock out of position. The ball soared over both of them, curling toward the far post.

Larsson—who had already synced his run with Shevchenko's movement—appeared right on cue.

Pavel Srníček didn't expect the ball to get there so quickly. Just as he adjusted his footing to meet it, Larsson leapt into the air like a predator, connecting with a thunderous header!

Boom!

His deadlock hair whipped as he made perfect contact with the ball. Even in that explosive moment, Larsson's eyes stayed locked on the target—burning with the wild focus of a beast unleashed.

Srníček stood frozen for a split second, arms outstretched in disbelief. The referee's opening whistle still echoed faintly in his ears. How much time had even passed?

Larsson's header wasn't particularly angled, but it was ferociously fast—rocketing toward the near post.

Srníček realized it too late. He jumped, hands flailing, but the ball grazed off his fingertips and slowed, dribbling over the line and into the net.

He landed in a heap on the goal line.

Larsson, having crashed to the ground after his leap, watched the ball roll in. His eyes widened. Scrambling to stand in the rush of excitement, he stumbled, fell again, then managed to push himself up.

He exploded toward the sideline, arms stretched wide, screaming toward the away bench: "Camera—come to me! Focus on me!"