Chapter 66
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Away vs Parma
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January 31st.
The winter transfer window had closed, and in that day's match, Gattuso delivered a ferocious 90-minute performance with one assist to secure a 2-0 victory.
Goals from Kevin Phillips and James Beattie.
This season, Beattie had finally shed his prospect label and was on the verge of hitting double digits as an English striker.
And February marked the season for international competitions.
It was time for the round of 16 in the Champions League and UEFA Cup, and we set off for an away trip to Parma in Italy.
The moment we stepped out of the airport, Italian reporters were firing off camera shutters nonstop, and we headed straight to the away training ground.
Trailing behind the Blackburn Rovers team bus were the expatriates from Daeyang Group.
"Vice Chairman, you've arrived?"
"Must have been a long trip all the way here."
"Hahaha, perfect timing—I had business in the area anyway."
Manager Jeong Gi-cheol gave me a ride and guided me to the Parma hotel, during which I took in the scenery outside.
Parma, much like Blackburn, was a small city of 170,000-180,000 people that boasted a top-flight soccer club with a trophy cabinet full of silverware.
On top of that, it was one of the "Seven Sisters of Serie A," a team still vying for Champions League spots.
But I knew how this club's story ended.
"It's about extending the dairy supply contract with Parma Azienda, the parent company of Parma FC. We've been offering two-year deals as usual, but suddenly they're insisting on one-year contracts only."
Behind Parma FC stood the food company Parma Azienda.
A powerhouse holding nearly 50% market share in Italian dairy products, even nicknamed the "Milk Empire."
Daeyang Global had been importing their dairy and beverages for department store deliveries, but as time went on, they kept hiking contract fees and demanding higher sums on one-year deals, leaving the Italian division in a bind.
"Sir, ahead of the Blackburn-Parma match, Parma Azienda's chairman Calisto Turin is coming too. I've set up a talk in advance, but..."
"Just go with the one-year contract."
"Pardon?"
"Let's end the Parma Azienda deal after 2002. We'll look for other suppliers instead."
"Vice Chairman, it's still a partner we've worked with for 10 years."
"After 10 years together, if they're not showing any consideration and getting more brazen by the day, what can we do? I'll report this directly to Chairman myself."
"But..."
"Besides, profits from Italian dairy have been dropping off. People are saying the taste has changed too. Did they dilute the milk with water or something?"
Well, that wasn't the real reason.
Parma Azienda in Italy would implode a few years later amid quality scandals, massive accounting fraud, and ledger tampering.
The subsidiary soccer club, Parma FC, would tumble into the abyss because of it.
Still, their stock would hit peak highs until 2002, so that was the key takeaway.
The other employees might find it sudden, but down the line, they'd look back and thank their stars they hadn't locked into multi-year deals—with the company rotting from the inside after its bullying tactics backfired.
Stadio Ennio Tardini.
The modest 27,000-seat stadium was packed with fans letting off flares, hoisting passionate placards, and giving the visiting Blackburn a raucous welcome.
In stark contrast to the fiery supporters, the facilities left much to be desired—Serie A stadiums often had tangled ownership issues that kept clubs from investing in proper renovations.
The one spot decked out properly was the VIP section for the elite, which was excessively opulent even compared to England.
Wine bars in the stands, walls lined with masterpieces—it felt less like a soccer match and more like a high-society soiree.
We watched the kickoff from the prime stands.
Parma's lineup back then was absurdly stacked: a 3-4-3 with a back three of Torricelli-Cannavaro-Thuram, and in goal, the legendary Buffon.
It was a matchup that had us wondering if our attack could pierce that defense.
Gattuso, back in a Blackburn shirt after Milan transfer rumors, drew thunderous boos from Parma fans every time he touched the ball.
"Get lost back to England, you half-baked Italian!"
"Giovanni says there's no spot for you~"
Taunts and jeering songs aimed at Gattuso, but he ignored them completely and passed to Parker.
With Ins absent, Parker stepped up against Parma's midfielders Almeida and Lamouchi, covering with tireless energy to carve out paths.
And when the pass arrived, Luis Figo smirked at his national team teammate.
Conceição and Figo.
But Figo was a class above, driving centrally toward goal in that instant—
Paak—
A monstrous sliding tackle, but Figo stayed on his feet as the ball was perfectly nicked away.
The bald black defender who stole it cleared it powerfully and strolled back to position.
"Thuram really is an insane defender."
Cannavaro had called Nesta the world's best defender and Thuram the defender from outer space.
Even that Cannavaro was paired with Thuram now, and despite his short stature, he was intercepting everything, not even letting balls reach Buffon.
As we watched the thrilling back-and-forth, the door behind us opened, and in walked an Italian man.
A familiar face from my few visits to Italy around age 50.
"I see some Easterners have taken over the VIP seats—ah, it's that young master from Daeyang."
"Chairman Calisto, long time no see."
Calisto Turin, owner of Parma FC and chairman of Parma Azienda.
He snapped his fingers the moment he sat, and his secretary placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.
Stadiums allowed smoking?
"That English side's got some grit."
"It's the team I built."
"Milan were sniffing around Gattuso, and watching this, I can see why we'd want him too."
Gennaro Gattuso, coveted by every Italian club.
But I declared NFS without hesitation.
"That guy's going to play in the Premier League for a long, long time."
"We'll see about that."
Calisto and I, the two club owners, watched our teams in silence.
"I hear you proposed a one-year deal for Parma Azienda supplies?"
"Honestly, we've been selling to you cheap all this time. I know you've raked it in across Asia with your distribution margins. Italian milk is top-tier, after all."
With Calisto bluntly saying, "Want more? Pony up for multi-year," I laid out my earlier plan.
"Then let's do the one-year contract."
"!"
"In exchange, ramp up supply volumes and guarantee quality for a full year. Then, for the next contract, I promise double the deal."
"Ho, squeeze every drop out of us in one year, then talk extensions?"
The match was locked at 0-0.
And amid the owners' business talk, I fired the first shot.
"You're not planning to do one year and shop around elsewhere, are you?"
"Instead, I'll invest in Parma Azienda stock. You're listed on the Italian exchange, right?"
"!?"
"Ten million euros, deposited jointly for the one-year term."
Calisto grinned around his cigarette and extended his hand.
"Big spender."
"I see growth potential."
I knew.
It would peak through mid-2002, then plummet the very next year.
A tight one-year flip would net at least double.
"Hold that stock as a white knight, and if it works out, sell it back to me."
"In return, can I snag one of your Parma players?"
"No one poaches our talent... but I'll think it over."
That was when it happened.
In the second half's tense 0-0 deadlock, Figo—who'd been stonewalled all game—finally muscled through with a cross.
Baggio latched onto it, shrugged off Cannavaro and Buffon, and tapped it into an empty net...!
"Mamma mia!!! Baggio!!!"
"Roberto, I knew you could do it!!"
Baggio had toyed with the Thuram-Cannavaro defense and even Buffon to score.
The stadium erupted in vicious boos for the traitor who'd left Italian soccer behind, but Baggio ignored them, spreading his arms wide in celebration.
As if proving at age 33 that Serie A had made a grave mistake in exiling him.
The UEFA Cup round of 16 first leg ended in a 1-0 away win thanks to Baggio's winner.
"Great job, everyone—you pulled off a massive away win!"
"We're going all the way to the title—Parma's nothing!"
"Exactly. Let's keep climbing—I've gotta get that trophy!"
Captain Southgate and Gattuso, hounded by transfer rumors, were fired up, turning the bus into a party.
Next up was the second leg at home, with Parma coming to Blackburn the following week.
Confident we'd win that too, I checked the opposite round of 16 bracket for the quarterfinal foe.
Spain's Rayo Vallecano and France's Girondins de Bordeaux were waiting; the winner would face us in the quarters.
Home leg's a breeze, and then—whether it's Spain or France away—let's do this!