66 Thank You Teacher!

At the reception, Tiger King met Cheryl, who was invited to participate in the event. She wanted to strike up a conversation with the young manager who just bet that he would win both matches or jump of the London Bridge.

At the reception, Tiger King found himself approached by Cheryl, a renowned singer who had been invited to perform at the event. She had been watching him from afar, intrigued by the young manager who had just made a bold, almost reckless bet against Brendan Rodgers.

"Mr. Tiger, are you curious why a stranger would take the initiative to talk to you?" Cheryl asked with a playful smile.

Tiger King tilted his head slightly and tapped his cheek. "I suppose I'll have to take a good look in the mirror when I get home and reevaluate my face. Maybe I'm more charming than I thought."

Cheryl laughed, her eyes shining with amusement. "You have a good sense of humor. Are you always this easygoing?"

"Not really." Tiger King glanced at Rodgers, who was still fuming in the distance. "For certain people, I tend to be a little… thornier."

"Like when you make a bet that could send you off Tower Bridge?"

"Exactly," Tiger King smirked.

Cheryl wanted to continue the conversation, but before she could say more, an organizer approached and whispered in her ear. She nodded and turned back to Tiger King with a regretful smile. "I'm being called backstage to prepare for my performance. But I'll be watching your games. Let's see if you can back up that bet."

Tiger King chuckled. "You're welcome to check, but I won't be taking a swim in the Thames anytime soon."

As Cheryl walked away, Tiger leaned back against his chair, swirling the warm water in his glass. He had no interest in entertaining anyone else tonight—not after the conversation he had just had with Victoria.

He had heard people say that in life, when faced with two women—one whom you love and one who loves you wholeheartedly—you should always choose the one who loves you. After all, love from another can be unwavering, but the heart can be fickle.

Yet, for him, there was no such dilemma.

Victoria had always been there, understanding him even when he didn't say a word, standing by him even when he had doubts. And now, he realized, he loved her just as deeply. His heart wasn't torn between choices; it had already made its decision long ago.

With that thought, he let out a breath, his mind clearer than before. He drained the last of his water and walked back toward Sir Alex Ferguson, who had returned to their table.

Ferguson exhaled deeply as he settled into his seat. "It's strange," he mused, staring out at the lively crowd. "Once, this place was filled with competitors—rivals, enemies in the league. Now, I'm retired, and it all feels… distant. Like another lifetime."

Tiger King sat beside him, listening quietly. He could feel the weight of nostalgia in Ferguson's words, and for a moment, he imagined what it must be like to watch the world move on without you.

Before he could respond, the lights dimmed slightly, and an announcement echoed through the reception hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are honored tonight to welcome the renowned English singer Miss Cheryl, who will now perform Champion's Light for us all."

The room hushed, and all eyes turned toward the stage. Tiger King did the same, his curiosity piqued. When the spotlight illuminated the singer in a lilac evening gown, his eyes widened slightly.

"She's the one I just spoke to," he murmured.

Ferguson smirked. "Looks like you're more popular than you thought, lad."

Tiger King shook his head with a chuckle.

"She's quite the name in the music industry," Ferguson continued. "Cheryl has worked with UEFA, the FA, and even FIFA for international tournaments. Rumor has it she's been invited to sing the official theme for next year's World Cup."

Tiger King nodded, impressed. "She's that famous?"

Ferguson gave him a sideways glance. "You really are out of touch. It seems that even this old man knows more about fashion and music than you do."

Tiger King scratched his head sheepishly. "Well, you know me, Sir. I've never been one to follow entertainment trends."

Ferguson chuckled but then sighed, his gaze momentarily distant. "You remind me of Beckham back in the day," he said. "If only David had been as disinterested in the entertainment world as you are, he could have reached even greater heights in football."

Tiger King knew exactly what Ferguson meant. David Beckham had been one of his proudest disciples, but his fame, his off-field interests, and his relationship with Victoria Beckham had often been points of contention between him and the legendary manager.

Even after all these years, he still holds onto that thought, Tiger King mused.

As Cheryl's voice soared through the hall, Ferguson leaned back in his chair, nodding along to the music. Tiger King did the same, but his mind was elsewhere—on Victoria, on his bet, on the war that awaited him this season.

And in that moment, he realized—this wasn't just another football season.

This was the beginning of his own legacy.

As the soft glow of the stage lights illuminated Cheryl, she took a deep breath, letting the weight of the moment settle. Then, with a graceful nod to the pianist, she began.

"Champion's Night"

Verse 1:

"Under the floodlights, where heroes are made,

Hearts beat faster, a battle's been laid.

Thunderous echoes, the crowd's mighty roar,

This is our moment, we're ready for more!"

Chorus:

"We rise, we fight, we stand as one tonight,

Through blood and fire, through endless might.

Glory's calling, the stars burn bright,

This is our story—our champion's night!"

Verse 2:

"Every scar, every fall, carved in our soul,

Pain turns to power, making us whole.

One final whistle, one last breath,

We chase our dreams, defying death!"

Chorus (Repeated):

"We rise, we fight, we stand as one tonight…"

Despite the passionate, blood-pumping lyrics, Cheryl had adjusted the song's melody to suit the elegant atmosphere of the cocktail party. Rather than the fiery, fast-paced anthem usually associated with it, she slowed the tempo, giving it a hauntingly beautiful, almost hypnotic quality.

Yet, no matter how much the melody softened, the fire within the words could not be extinguished.

Tiger King felt it. Deeply. His fingers trembled slightly against the glass he was holding. His heart pounded as though he were back at Old Trafford, standing on the touchline, hearing the deafening roars of the fans. He could almost see it—the net rippling from a last-minute goal, the explosion of cheers, the euphoria of victory.

A sudden, inexplicable urge overtook him. 'I want to stand up and roar. I want to run onto the field and play. I want to win!'

His grip tightened. He closed his eyes. The song carried him away, stirring something primal inside him. The hunger, the desire, the burning need to conquer football.

As Cheryl's final note hung in the air, there was a moment of silence. Then, applause erupted throughout the hall. Many were left in awe, their hearts still racing. The energy in the room had changed—excitement and anticipation buzzed like electricity.

Even as Cheryl gracefully exited the stage, people were left speechless, their emotions refusing to settle.

Tiger exhaled slowly. He felt invigorated.

Hours later, the night was dark and still as Tiger King and Sir Alex Ferguson sat in the car heading back to Manchester. The city lights flickered past, their reflections dancing on the windows.

Neither of them spoke for a while. They simply watched the quiet world outside, lost in thought.

Then, Sir Alex broke the silence. His voice was low, almost as if he were speaking to himself rather than to Tiger.

"Tiger, you remember what I said today," he murmured. "One day, you will, like me, win all the championships in English football. Then, you will dominate Europe and stand on top of the world."

Tiger turned slightly, listening intently.

"You will also win the Treble," Ferguson continued. "You will lift the Premier League. You will conquer the Champions League."

His voice grew softer, yet every word carried immense weight. "And one day, you will stand on a stage like I did tonight… to receive a lifetime achievement award—a tribute to the honor of football itself."

Tiger King swallowed. The dream Ferguson spoke of felt almost too grand, too distant. But was it?

He thought back to the struggles, the doubts, the countless hurdles he had already faced. The expectations placed upon him. The legacy he was meant to uphold.

"You will remember these days," Ferguson went on, "the days when you were still forging your path. The struggles, the setbacks… they will become your favorite stories, your greatest lessons."

Then, silence. Tiger glanced over—and saw that Sir Alex had fallen asleep.

A small, grateful smile appeared on his lips. He lowered his voice and whispered,

"Thank you, Mr. Sir. Thank you, my eternal teacher."

And with that, he turned back to the window, the fire in his heart burning brighter than ever.