Fighting Spirit

Wimbledon is quite the oddity in the Premier League. They are the poorest club in the league, even renting their stadium from Crystal Palace, yet every year, they watch wealthier clubs get relegated while they themselves rarely find themselves embroiled in a relegation battle. This season is no different; they comfortably sit in ninth place, seven points ahead of tenth-placed Leicester City, presenting a clear divide in the standings. Theoretically, Wimbledon has no worries about relegation, but behind Leicester, ten teams are left battling it out, and aside from Nottingham Forest, which looks destined for relegation, any of the other nine teams could drop down. Among them are names that certainly don't sound like relegation contenders: Leeds United, Blackburn, West Ham, Everton, and others.

Since Christmas, the suspense surrounding this season's Premier League champion has waned, but as we approach mid-March, the question of which three teams will face relegation has become the biggest concern. There are simply too many potential relegation candidates, and with the Premier League planning to sign a new broadcasting deal in the summer, rumored to be worth at least twice as much as the contract from five years ago, the battle for survival has intensified.

Wimbledon, often tipped for relegation, finds themselves completely at ease this year, now focusing on their quest in the FA Cup.

This might be tied to their tough, rough style of English football. Many teams can maintain a specific style for a season or two, but it's rare to find a team that sticks to its approach for a full decade without seeking change. Perhaps it's this unwavering determination that allows Wimbledon to exist in the Premier League; although they may not aspire for the title, they stand tall among their rivals.

The FA Cup quarter-final kicked off at the Lion's Den.

Less than a minute into the match, Wimbledon's leader, Vinnie Jones, knocked over Lampard. The referee blew his whistle, signaling a foul. He verbally cautioned Jones but didn't brandish a card.

Jones, with a thug's demeanor, grumbled as he walked back, spitting to the ground in disdain at Lampard's supposed softness.

Aldrich, on the sidelines, spread his hands in protest, but rationally, he didn't believe there was anything wrong with Wimbledon's style of play.

You could criticize them for being unambitious, relying on outdated long passes and crosses.

You could mock them for their rough play, which lacks finesse.

But there are no fixed standards in football; some players are poets, while others are battering rams.

Wimbledon's blue-collar troops might not showcase beautiful football, yet they have firmly established themselves in the Premier League. No one can expect to win easily against them.

It's precisely this fearless and tough spirit that allows them to flout the rules of football's capitalist game, thriving in the top league despite their dire financial situation.

Faced with this group of muscle-bound fighters, Aldrich felt a twinge of apprehension, reluctant to send out his key players to engage in a physical battle. He worried his team would come away battered; furthermore, their usual passing and combination play might not be the best strategy against Wimbledon.

While Wimbledon played long balls, Millwall would do the same today.

In the midfield, the tenacious duo of Ballack and Lampard controlled the game, transitioning seamlessly between attack and defense. They surged forward when on the offensive and engaged fiercely in defense.

With three forwards, Toni stands as the key player up front, while Van Nistelrooy is the sneaky predator in the penalty area. Behind them, there's Phillips, who plays unpredictably and can surprise everyone with a flash of genius. Their offensive strategy involves building up play through the center, while the wing-backs are constantly swinging the ball into the box.

The first half unfolded with a rhythm of physicality—tackles, falls, and confrontations. In Wimbledon's penalty area, chaos reigned.

One gets the impression that the opponents are not rational players but a pack of wild rhinos. Amidst the crowded fray, their defensive patterns are elusive, yet the intimidating force of their reckless charge is undeniable.

Wimbledon executed their tactics with precision; being the away team, they aimed to hold firm.

If they could hold a draw, they'd have another crack at it. After all, they were short on cash; every extra match meant more ticket sales and broadcast revenue.

This was a test of willpower: Millwall players couldn't show fear, and they had to keep their belief in victory; otherwise, they might fall victim to their opponents.

The struggle was fierce. Wimbledon resorted to foul tactics outside the box, blocking long-range shots with their bodies. As Millwall bombarded the area with high balls, their players often found themselves on the ground after collisions, while Wimbledon's players typically fell due to the ball striking their bodies.

The fans in the stands were thoroughly enjoying the match, with Lions' supporters bearing no animosity towards the Crazy Gang. In fact, they respected their spirit, not caring whether their play was rough or refined, just as long as they played like real men.

By halftime, six Wimbledon players had received yellow cards, yet they held on to a draw.

In the locker room during the break, Aldrich observed his players, who were grumbling and dissatisfied. Once the atmosphere calmed down, he turned to Lampard and asked, "Are you angry?"

Lampard replied indignantly, "Why wouldn't I be? They play as if they're not even footballers."

He had been knocked down at least three times in the first half and was on the verge of engaging in a physical confrontation with the opponents.

Aldrich looked at the others and asked Materazzi, "What about you? Are you angry?"

Materazzi shrugged, saying, "There's nothing to be angry about. It's pretty normal."

He had seen plenty of such scenes during his time in Italy's lower leagues.

In reality, there's no absolute standard of "clean or dirty" on the pitch. As long as there's no corrupt officiating and the opponents commit fouls, players will receive cards—two yellow cards convert to one red card, or a direct red card can be shown right away. These rules govern player behavior.

"I have a paradoxical feeling that you all have started treating football like a gentleman's game. Perhaps you think playing football should reflect our tactical style, focusing on teamwork and showcasing individual skills, almost as if you're a chorus of singers coming together to create a glorious symphony."

Aldrich spoke casually, and the players stared at him, some showing signs of contemplation.

"That's true; it's our pursuit, but we can't impose our ideals as the standard on others. When faced with opponents who play contrary to our philosophy, we can't just complain. You can't say Wimbledon isn't playing football. They're striving to showcase their unique style, distinct from ours. We should respect that, confront them with a clear mind, and seek to defeat them. At least, I don't look down on them. I have great respect for their coach. Why? Because I'm lucky; I get to coach you talented players. You're strong as a unit. In terms of footballing talent, the Wimbledon players can't compare to you, but look at where they rank on the table. And think about who eliminated Manchester United? They've come together to play their style of football, and that's what has made them strong. That's commendable."

The players pondered his words. After about two minutes, Aldrich smiled and asked, "Is anyone still angry?"

Lampard was the first to shake his head, and soon others followed suit.

Aldrich continued, "So, what should we do in the second half?"

"Beat them!"

"Great, now let's talk about adjustments for the second half."

Aldrich completed the halftime adjustments in just three minutes and sent the players back onto the pitch.

In reality, his adjustments were minimal; it was primarily about having Lampard and Ballack interchange penetrating runs into the box to disrupt the opponent's defense and making slight tweaks to the crossing strategy.

The two teams resumed play in the second half.

Wimbledon maintained their ironclad defensive stance. Their offensive tactics were rather simple; they could only rely on set pieces, as they lacked speedy forwards and were hesitant to press forward. Even their chances from set pieces were few and far between.

The match continued in a stalemate. Aldrich paced along the sidelines, and as the clock hit the 75th minute, he decided to sub in another midfielder to increase their offensive coverage.

With the penalty area crowded, adding another forward wouldn't make much difference.

Just as he was about to call in Nedved to warm up, the tide of the game changed dramatically. Zambrotta made a long diagonal pass into the box, and Toni managed to get to the far post, flicking the ball back toward the goal. Ballack leaped high, connecting with a header.

The Wimbledon goalkeeper instinctively dove to save, miraculously getting a hand onto the ball!

But with so many bodies in front of him, the ball ricocheted off someone and bounced back into the net.

"It's in! After 76 minutes of relentless assault, Millwall has scored! Oh, wait, it's not a Millwall player who got the goal; it's an own goal from a Wimbledon player! The goalkeeper made a world-class save, but a teammate inadvertently redirected the ball back into their own net. With just fifteen minutes remaining, Wimbledon thought they had a draw in hand—unexpectedly, they made a costly mistake, and Millwall leads 1-0! They now have one foot in the FA Cup semi-finals."

Aldrich exhaled in relief on the sidelines after the goal, signaling to his players. After their celebration, they exchanged tactical instructions from the coach.

Next, they need to balance the formation a bit.

Wimbledon was desperate to avoid losing and retaliated with a fierce counterattack. However, Millwall's defenders stood firm against the physical pressure. Ferdinand, in the heat of the battles, showcased his leadership by clearing long balls with powerful headers.

As Wimbledon pushed forward, their defensive shape quickly compressed, leaving larger gaps in their backline. In the final five minutes, yet another long ball was thwarted by Millwall. Lampard, deep in his own half, launched a long pass forward.

Toni positioned himself up front, physically blocking the Wimbledon defenders during a fierce challenge. The ball dropped, but neither player managed to touch it. As the ball rebounded away from Toni, Phillips sprinted in from behind them, expertly controlling the ball as it landed before driving straight towards the opponent's goal.

Facing the advancing goalkeeper, Phillips calmly slotted the ball into the lower right corner of the net, sealing the victory for Millwall.

Millwall's players rushed to celebrate, while the Wimbledon squad stood dejectedly, heads hanging low, hands on their hips in disappointment.

On the sidelines, Audridge was clapping, and half of his applause was meant for Wimbledon.

At least this rough-and-tumble team possessed a unique spirit. Even if they weren't particularly strong, a club with such character deserves respect.

Many famous clubs invoke vivid ideas of their spirit and ethos, and although very few Wimbledon players have gained recognition, mention the club's name, and everyone knows what they represent. Even if most people don't admire them, considering their circumstances, it's truly commendable.

The final score remained 2-0, and Millwall pressed on, competing fiercely on three fronts: the league, the FA Cup, and the Cup Winners' Cup. They were entering the crucial sprint towards the triple crown.

The identity of their FA Cup semi-final opponent was revealed the following day—Middlesbrough, who had ended Millwall's two-year unbeaten streak at home earlier in the season. However, they already avenged that loss in the latter half of the league campaign, beating Middlesbrough by three goals at Riverside Stadium. Now, the two teams were set to meet again in the FA Cup semi-finals.