Chapter 8: Special Talent Clause

Even in a third-tier league, when you've got a full plate like Yang Cheng's, every minute counts. Fresh off wrapping up the Huddlestone drama, he returned to London, determined to set the wheels in motion. The transfer from Dinamo Zagreb to the Beswater Chinese was done and dusted—at least on paper. Next up was sorting out the cross-border paperwork with the national football associations and FIFA. Easy, right? Not quite.

Predictably, the Beswater Chinese's bid to secure a labor certificate for Modric was shot down. Why? Simply because Modric didn't qualify. Yang Cheng had anticipated this all along. So what's a resourceful manager to do? He began prepping for the special application under the so-called Special Genius Clause.

Here's the lowdown: in the UK, labor certifications aren't issued by the FA but by the Home Office, which has its own meritocracy policy. Think of it as a VIP lane reserved for the absolute best—thanks to a 2002 policy introduced after too many foreign players crowded local pitches. Every professional club gets to apply for this elite "Special Genius Clause" for one player per year. And while it's mostly a formality, it's the golden ticket for non-EU talent.

Rumor had it that Manchester United missed out on applying for this clause for Kaka, but that was mostly because United didn't really fancy him anyway. The real prize for Yang Cheng was to lock down Modric through this route.

While Yang Cheng was busy crafting his genius plan, his ever-worried financial officer Lin Zhongqiu knocked on his office door. "Uncle Lin," Yang Cheng muttered without looking up, already swamped with paperwork. Lin's face, however, was a canvas of despair.

"Ah Cheng, you know as well as I do that our £2 million is practically evaporating! And if we splash out on Huddlestone or even Andreasen, there's barely anything left for the essentials," Lin lamented.

Money, money, and more money—that was Lin's eternal headache. The Beswater Chinese had a string of deals where most of the costs weren't the transfers (which were peanuts) but the ongoing salaries. And in League Two, the real challenge wasn't buying players; it was keeping the lights on.

Lin reminded him, "Our matchday income is dismal. Before we were just a scrappy amateur team near Chinatown, now we're in League Two with a stadium that holds 5,000 at best—averaging fewer than 2,000 fans per game. Compare that to Queens Park Rangers, who pack over 10,000 seats and rake in tens of millions from tickets alone. We're like a leaky tap with barely £1.5 million a year coming in!"

Yang Cheng, ever the optimist and risk-taker, simply grinned and said, "Take your time, my friend. We just need to find a way to boost our income. And remember, a high-level coach improves player quality—there's our secret sauce!"

He rattled off the names of his potential reinforcements: Thad Fawcett, a biomechanics whiz who once helped the U.S. women's soccer team, and Oliver Bartlett, a British coach with a solid academic pedigree from Australia. Their salaries were tempting—around £100,000 a year—but they were the kind of investment that could transform the squad.

Then there was the burning question that Lin Zhongqiu couldn't let go: "So, who's going to be the head coach? That's the most critical position, you know."

Yang Cheng's eyes sparkled with mischief and determination as he prepared to unveil his master plan. For him, assembling the perfect coaching team was just as crucial as poaching the right players. And with all his contacts from his previous life in football's upper echelons, he had a couple of names up his sleeve—names that would soon set the tone for a revolution in League Two.

As the conversation wound down, Yang Cheng's trademark confidence shone through. "We're not stuck in a dead end, Lin. We're going to raise our game, boost our revenue, and maybe even get to the Premier League someday. All we need is the right talent and a little bit of that Special Genius magic."

Lin Zhongqiu sighed, half in disbelief and half in relief, knowing that if anyone could pull off a miracle, it was Yang Cheng—and his quirky, daring ideas.