Antonigiggs

Richard Maddox, a once-promising football prodigy, dreamed of becoming a star. But just as his dream was within reach, it was abruptly shattered when he banged his head on the goalpost, fracturing his skull. Forced into early retirement, Richard vanished from the public eye.

People thought Richard Maddox was done for. However, no one expected that during his unconscious state, his spirit detached from his body. He drifted through time, witnessing the world of football from the perspective of a ghost. It was strange, unpleasant, yet exciting. No need for tickets or travel—he could simply fly.

England, Italy, Spain, Germany—the best football countries in Europe—and even the passionate South America, the energetic Africa, and the growing Asia—Richard observed the rise and fall of football giants, all from the sidelines.

However, watching football from the other side was quite different from experiencing it live. He missed the cheering, singing, and chanting with the other fans. No one could hear him now. No one could watch football with him. He was... alone. 

Just as Richard was about to be bored to death, his soul was sucked back, and he realized that only an entire year had passed.

'Interesting,' he thought, laughing. “I could bet, invest in companies that will succeed in the future, and get rich. Bitcoin, I'm coming, baby.”

but who could have guessed that Richard would dive so deep into the world of football—From owning a single share to testing the waters as a scout, trying his hand as an agent, and eventually stepping into the world of coaching, before finally diving into the realm of football club ownership. 

It has truly been a full spectrum of football, the highs and the lows. Join us as we welcome Richard Maddox!

Football Dynasty

24th Minute: Birmingham were drowning. The Maine Road crowd could smell blood, their roars growing louder with each wave of City's attack.

Their center-back received a simple back pass but hesitated for just half a second. That was all Solskjær needed.

The City striker pounced with hunger, stealing the ball, weaving around Bennett, and calmly tapping it into an empty net.

Solskjær took off running, his arms outstretched, a smile spreading across his face. The crowd's deafening cheer only fueled his joy as he slid on his knees toward the corner flag, leaving a trail of passion and energy in his wake.

Barry Fry turned away, running a hand down his face in disbelief.

His assistant, eyes wide with concern, muttered, "If we don't settle down, this could be a record-breaking loss."

Still, Barry Fry said nothing. He didn't respond. He just kept watching, silently believing in his team.

How to Make Them Shut Up (Second)