Back to England

Cruzeiro do Sul Airport

Richard, who had arrived at the airport ahead of schedule, received unexpected news—Adam Lewis, the man who had helped him navigate his legal battles with the FA and the Premier League, happened to be in the same city for work.

Seizing the opportunity, the two arranged to meet.

As they sat down in a quiet corner of the airport lounge, Richard wasted no time in sharing his bold vision.

"I'm planning to make Manchester City the first club in England to field four non-EU players in the starting lineup," he declared confidently.

Lewis nearly choked on his coffee. "Wait, wait, wait… when you say 'non-EU,' do you mean actual non-European Union players?"

Richard frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lewis was at a loss for words. He took a deep breath before clarifying. "I think our definition of 'non-EU' is different. You do know that European clubs are only allowed to field three foreign players, right?"

"...yes, and...?"

"First, Players from outside the Europe such as South Americans, Africans, or Asians were considered foreign because they needed work permits to play in European leagues. If they didn't meet the criteria, they wouldn't get approved.

"Second, European players themselves were sometimes treated as foreigners in certain leagues, especially in England, where the football culture strongly favored homegrown talent. This rule applied to all players without British passports. So, you could say we misunderstood each other. For me, being accustomed to UK law, the term 'foreign player' essentially became synonymous with 'non-EU player."

"Third, you forgot the working permits!"

"You mean I still can't register all the players I just signed?" Richard slapped his forehead as he grasped the crux of the issue.

"Unless they have European ancestry, then no, you can't," Lewis replied. "Well..." He paused for a moment before continuing. "If they meet the 75% national team rule, everything should be easier. Give me the names of the players you've signed."

Richard rubbed his temples before handing over the list: Roberto Carlos, Cafu, Rivaldo.

Lewis scanned the names and shook his head. "Roberto Carlos earned his first cap in 1992. He's consistent, but he's still breaking into the national team. Cafu has more experience, but he's not an automatic starter yet. As for Rivaldo, his first cap for Brazil was in 1993, but it was only in a friendly match, and he hasn't been called up since. You have a higher chance with Roberto Carlos and Cafu, but Rivaldo? Forget it."

The Home Office required non-EU players to have played at least 75% of their national team's competitive matches over the last two years to qualify for a work permit.

Richard fell silent for a moment before asking, "Is there no other way?"

Lewis thought for a moment. "I've lost a case like this before. You could appeal to a special panel that assesses whether the player is of exceptional talent and would improve English football. But you'd need detailed statistical data comparing them with established stars, along with scouting reports, market comparisons, and expert testimonies to convince the panel."

Richard finally sighed in relief. "Would City being in the third tier help? We could argue that their arrival would increase the lower league's global appeal."

Lewis rubbed his chin. "That's an interesting angle. You could argue that they aren't taking jobs from British players but are instead elevating the club to a higher level. If done right, it might just work. But for Rivaldo, who hasn't earned any caps for the national team yet, it will be difficult."

"What do you suggest?" Richard asked.

"Loaning him to a club in a more lenient European league, like Belgium or Portugal, until he become eligible. That would allow them to gain international caps, increasing their chances of passing the 75% rule later."

Richard folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. His plan had brought him to Cruzeiro this time to recruit Ronaldo. "What about this guy?" he asked, handing over the information on Ronaldo Luís Nazário de Lima.

Lewis skimmed the details before shaking his head. "A rising star, yes, but not yet a full international."

This meant that only Roberto Carlos and Cafu passed the criteria. But with Ronaldo's skill, surely the Brazil national team wouldn't miss out on such talent, right?

'I think Brazil won the World Cup this year, right? Did Ronaldo play or not? Ah, when did he debut?' Richard scratched his head, realizing he'd forgotten the exact year.

Ronaldo was undoubtedly a future star for the national team, but the problem was that he was still only 17.

If he invested in him now but the youngster didn't get enough playing time, there was a real risk that his passport application would be rejected, making all the effort a waste.

But if he let this opportunity slip away to PSV first...

"So be it then!" Richard declared with finality, rising abruptly from his seat. Adam Lewis, still engrossed in the documents on the Brazilian players that his client had just signed, looked up in confusion.

"Help me draft the appeal, will you? I'll put you in touch with City's legal team. Gordon Barry is the barrister, and Frank Shepherd is the solicitor."

Lewis let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. "Alright... but just to be clear, which players are you submitting for registration this season?"

"Roberto Carlos, Cafu, and Ronaldo," Richard said, handing over the list.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "Ronaldo? Are you sure he actually wants to play for City?" he asked, quickly skimming through the paperwork before raising his head. "Did PSV make an offer too?"

"How many days until the World Cup begins?" Richard asked.

"Three weeks, I think?" Lewis replied after a quick thought.

"Then I still have time," Richard muttered to himself before grabbing his coat. "Alright, I need to get to Mineirão now."

PSV had agreed to sign Ronaldo before the 1994 World Cup, but the transfer hadn't been officially completed—likely because they wanted to assess his performance first.

This led him to believe that this year's World Cup would be Ronaldo's debut in the tournament for the Brazilian national team.

PSV had bid £5.48 million for Ronaldo, but Richard immediately countered with a direct £6 million offer.

This instantly shifted the stance of Cruzeiro's board, who had been strongly favoring Ronaldo's move to the Netherlands, to a more neutral position.

A week before the World Cup, the PSV board was stunned to receive a fax—an unexpected £6 million bid for Ronaldo!

Fuming, PSV's representatives wasted no time in contacting Cruzeiro.

"This is outrageous!" a PSV director snapped over the phone. "We had a verbal agreement. How can you even consider another offer?"

Cruzeiro's president sighed, trying to maintain a diplomatic tone. "If we had an agreement, then why didn't you finalize the deal? We need funds too—to secure a replacement for Ronaldo."

The PSV board exchanged uneasy glances. They knew they couldn't afford to lose such a generational talent.

"Alright," the PSV director finally said, taking a deep breath. "What will it take to honor our deal after the World Cup?"

"If you can match or improve upon the new offer, the deal is yours," Cruzeiro responded.

"And what exactly do you mean by 'improve'?"

"Hmm… let's say £6 million."

If PSV could match the offer, the deal was theirs. As for Manchester City? They could take a long swim in the ocean for all they cared! Selling to a top-tier club was always the preferred choice—assuming, of course, they could cough up the cash.

The PSV director's face drained of color. They had already stretched their budget, having spent £3 million on Vampeta and £2.5 million on Luc Nilis. Now, finding an extra half a million to compete with City seemed almost impossible.

Now their only hope was to convince Ronaldo himself.

Ronaldo, of course, leaned toward a move to the Netherlands, where they played in the top tier. But as Lewis said, "You've lost your mind!" when he heard the salary Richard was offering—he nearly choked.

Ronaldo nearly dropped the contract.

£3,000 per week?!

PSV was already bending over backward, offering him £2,307 per week—a jaw-dropping £120,000 per year for a 17-year-old.

And now, this madman was just casually sliding over a deal worth £156,000 per year for six years. And that wasn't even counting the bonuses and incentives... At this rate, he'd be richer than the wealthiest loan shark in his entire neighborhood!

This was a million-pound contract!

Third tier? It didn't matter anymore. In fact, even if he spent most of his time on the bench, he was willing. After all, he was still only 17 this year, and by the time his contract ended, he'd still be just 23. More importantly, he believed in his skill!

Richard only smiled at his reaction.

As you know, during this transitional period of globalization and commercialization in football—when the market had yet to fully recognize the value of star players, and even players themselves were unaware of their true earning potential—Richard knew that the only way to lure talent to a third-tier club like Manchester City was by offering higher wages.

A starting wage of £2,000–£3,000 per week—what did this signify? It would cost the club over £100,000 per year, a staggering sum for a club in City's position. But more than just money, it was a statement—a guarantee to the players.

"We're paying you well, so you will play. If you come here, you won't be warming the bench."

In 1994, such wages were almost unheard of. Before the Bosman Ruling, how much did one of England's top stars, Gary Lineker, earn per week?

£5,000.

Even after the Bosman ruling, a player like David Beckham—who had massive appeal both on and off the pitch—how much was he earning at Manchester United?

Less than £4,000 per week.

If even the biggest names were earning such modest sums, how low were the wages of ordinary players—especially those yet to prove themselves in Europe?

Many unpolished talents likely wouldn't even earn £100 per week at their current clubs. Normally, they would need to establish themselves in Europe for at least a season or two—essentially wasting valuable time—before earning a substantial contract.

But what if Richard could offer them that opportunity now?

A deal so enticing, so difficult to refuse, that it would change their minds overnight.

Put simply, for these players, financial security was the ultimate incentive. Of course, if news of his spending spree got out, critics would surely condemn him for his reckless approach. But who cared?

Some might scoff at him now, but as football hurtled toward a new era of commercialization—especially with the Premier League leading the charge—the biggest winners would be him and his club. He wasn't here to pinch pennies. He was here to change the game.

Financial fair play?

Hah!

Club owners could inject money directly into transfers and wages without limits. This is why the 1990s became an era of transfer fee inflation, with big spenders emerging—like Jack Walker at Blackburn Rovers, Silvio Berlusconi at AC Milan, and Ken Bates at Chelsea.

With that, Richard's business in South America was done.

Cafu, Roberto Carlos, and Ronaldo—he would push hard for their work permits to ensure they could start playing right away.

As for Rivaldo, he planned to loan him out first, giving him time to build up his physical strength before eventually bringing him into City's squad.

Upon arriving in England, Richard wasted no time getting to work.

The first thing he needed was cash—his bank account was glaringly at zero!

So, he made a call and asked whoever wanted to move to a bigger club or anyone who already had an offer on the table.

First up was Andy Cole. Having proven himself as a talented young goalscorer with Bristol City, he quickly became one of the hottest prospects in England, with his name frequently linked to Premier League clubs.

Newcastle United, Manchester United, Blackburn Rovers, Leeds United, and Chelsea were all vying for his signature. In the end, Newcastle secured his services for £1.75 million.

Richard immediately made a last-minute attempt to activate his 30% third-party ownership clause in Cole's contract, which meant he would receive £525,000 from the transfer.

Second was Les Ferdinand, and once again, Newcastle United proved their ambition to compete at the highest level next season.

£6 million!!!

With Richard holding a third-party ownership clause from Ferdinand's move to QPR, he was set to receive £600,000 from the transfer.

Third was securing contract extensions for several key players: Matt Le Tissier at Southampton, Tony Cascarino at Aston Villa, Teddy Sheringham at Tottenham Hotspur, Ian Wright at Arsenal, Lee Sharpe at Manchester United, Alan Shearer at Blackburn Rovers.

All of this earned him around £75,000 in agent bonuses, which meant that from player transfers alone in a single window, he had already made £1.2 million!

You can imagine just how ludicrously profitable the agent business could be.

After every negotiation, there was one important thing Richard always made sure to tell his players.

He would close the folder and say, "You know, this is probably my last year as your agent, which means you'll need to start thinking about finding someone else to represent you."

It wasn't an easy conversation, but it was a necessary one. Football was a fast-moving business, and he knew his own career trajectory wouldn't keep him in player management forever.

Some of his clients took it well, already eyeing top-tier agencies. Others hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of change.

Like Ian Wright, Alan Shearer, and Andy Cole—players who were especially close to him—all of them had the same question:

"So… is this the end?"

Richard then smacked the back of their heads.

"What do you mean 'the end'?! I'm not dying, you idiots!"

They laughed, but the thought still lingered—especially for Ian Wright, whom Richard had personally fetched from prison when he first wanted to sign him.

"You're really leaving the agent game?" Ian Wright asked.

Richard shrugged. "What can I do? I don't want any trouble. Hell, even my brother Harry—I've made sure he stays far away from this business."

Wright went silent for a moment, then casually dropped a bomb. "What if I joined City?"

Richard stared at him. Then, without hesitation—"Fuck off! How dare you make fun of me!"

Move to City? Over Arsenal?!

What kind of sick joke was this?

Wright burst out laughing. "Relax, relax—I'm kidding!"

Richard scowled but couldn't help chuckling. After some more teasing and reminiscing about their years as player and agent, he finally pulled Wright into a warm hug.

"Take care of yourself, you idiot. And if you ever find yourself in trouble with the police again…" He smirked. "Just remember, I'm only one phone call away."

And just like that, Richard closed the chapter and formally surrendered his agent license once and for all.

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Volume 3 'Taking Over' is now complete, and Volume 4, 'Rebuilding,' will be starting soon.

Stay tuned for what's coming next!