Football Dynasty

Manchester City were up against Leeds United in the weekend league match. After a string of away fixtures due to European commitments, fate dealt them another cruel hand—this time an away trip straight after their return from Barnsley in South Yorkshire.

What terrible luck.

At Elland Road, O'Neill stood on the touchline, a deep sense of powerlessness weighing him down from head to toe. Up in the VIP box, Richard felt the same frustration. The team's performance was utterly dismal.

City looked sluggish, unable to keep pace with their opponents. Their passing was sloppy, the rhythm disjointed, and the success rate had plummeted alarmingly. Every misplaced ball seemed to suck more belief out of the side.

The breaking point came in the 41st minute. Gallas played a weak, under-hit pass meant for Shevchenko. The Ukrainian striker darted forward, but the ball was never going to reach him. As he tried to turn back to recover, it was already too late—the Leeds left-back pounced, intercepted, and immediately triggered a lightning counter-attack.

Harry Kewell, the Australian star, surged forward. With elegance and confidence, he cut inside from the flank, slipping a perfectly weighted pass behind Thuram.

Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink timed his diagonal run to perfection, meeting the ball in stride and firing a precise shot into the far corner.

Elland Road erupted. Leeds 1–0 Manchester City.

"Leeds United takes a 1-0 lead over Manchestr city! The goal stemmed from Gallas's pass error and followed by Leeds' swift counter, with an impressive combination between Kewell and Hasselbaink. George Graham's team has been performing far better than expected. Does anyone at Elland Road miss Howard Wilkinsonow? They have the youthful Graham at the helm—um, sorry, with City on the pitch, the term 'youthful' shouldn't apply to anyone else."

George Graham, building upon foundations laid the season beforesuccess making Leeds United made a significant leap from the previous season by finishing currently stay in 5th in the Premier League wrestle wth Liverpool in securing UEFA Cup qualification

O'Neill sighed helplessly from the sidelines.

Manchester city's game plan today was focused on counter-attacks, prioritizing defense, yet Allan Smith, the tireless young striker, was a relentless force for Leeds.

Graham Counter was truly deadly as he had paired Smith with Hasselbaink, making Smith more of a defensive forward, constantly harassing manchsetr city's defense.

Gallas's mistake stemmed from the pressure applied by Smith's aggressive play.

In the box at Elland Road, Leeds' chairman Ridsdale and his assistant were taking in the match.

After Leeds scored, he celebrated briefly, but when the halftime score remained unchanged, he turned to his assistant, their expressions serious.

Leeds United was, at this time, owned by the Caspian Group, with Peter Ridsdale serving as the key figure at the helm. The club had transformed into a publicly listed company on the London Stock Exchange back in the late 1980s under the leadership of then-chairman Leslie Silver, a move that brought fresh capital but also exposed the club to the volatility of business and investor expectations.

By the mid-1990s, the Caspian Group—a leisure and finance conglomerate—had become the principal shareholder. Under their control, Leeds entered a new era of financial ambition. With Ridsdale as the public face and decision-maker, the club projected an image of stability and growth.

Ridsdale often presented himself not only as a football man but as a modern executive who could bridge the gap between boardroom demands and the passion of Elland Road.

"The latest football professional agency report values Manchester City at £170 million," his assistant reported.

Ridsdale fell silent, weighing the number.

£170 million… Manchester City…

He couldn't help but compare it to a few years ago. Before 1994—or more precisely, before Richard Maddox seized the reins—City had been worth very little. In fact, it had been a bleeding venture, losing money year after year.

Then came the Maddox Group. With Richard's heavy investment, City had been yanked back from the brink. And not just saved—they had soared. In only a handful of years, the club's value had skyrocketed, now trailing only the giants: Manchester United, Liverpool, and Arsenal.

Ridsdale's eyes narrowed. Maddox had turned a failing club into an empire.

"What underpins this valuation?" he asked gravely.

His assistant replied promptly. "Player value, Chairman. Over seventy percent of it comes from the squad itself."

This wasn't surprising. Who in their right mind would value Maine Road so highly? The old stadium carried history, yes, but sentiment didn't pay the bills. In the hard world of finance, bricks and mortar mattered far less than the players who filled the shirts.

The club's infrastructure held little value; even their modest training ground was estimated to be worth more than Maine Road itself. Aging stands, mounting maintenance costs, and limited commercial potential—the ground was more liability than asset.

What truly inflated Manchester City's worth wasn't concrete or steel. It was the squad Richard Maddox had assembled, a roster of stars and rising talents whose combined market value dwarfed the stadium they played in.

Ridsdale knew it well: in modern football, the pitch was no longer just turf—it was a trading floor, and the players running across it were the real capital.

When it came to valuation, players were the crown jewels—but they weren't overinflated. Each figure was carefully adjusted to reflect both form and circumstance. Ronaldo, Zidane, Neil Lennon, Cannavaro, Zanetti, Makélélé, and others sat around the £10 million mark, while Zambrotta, sidelined by injury, had slipped to just £6 million.

Player worth was never static. Form, injuries, age, and market demand caused constant fluctuation. On top of that, contract length played a decisive role. A player with only two or three years left could walk away for nothing, leaving the club with no return on its investment. That risk meant valuations were always moderated, discounted to account for the reality of expiring deals.

Ridsdale leaned forward, muttering under his breath. "Without good players, Manchester City isn't worth anything at all."

His assistant kept silent, the weight of the chairman's muttered words lingering in the air.

For a long moment, Ridsdale sat deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest. Only after careful deliberation did he finally turn toward his aide, his eyes narrowing with intent.

"Tell me," he said in a low, deliberate tone, "if we offered a massive sum—enough to shake the market—could we lure Manchester City's players away? Would that bring us closer to our goals?"

Ridsdale wanted Leeds United to become a money-making powerhouse. He believed they were just a tiny bit away from that!