Bonding and Pressing Forward
At the general hospital in Greater Manchester, he checked on Haaland's condition.
"How is he?"
He grabbed the doctor who'd just finished the exams. The doctor quietly showed the X-rays in the consultation room.
"The right knee that took the tackle is just a bruise. He'll recover in about three weeks."
A three-week injury? At least it wasn't season-ending. What a relief.
"The problem is the left knee."
"But that one wasn't hit. Did it twist when he fell?"
"Not that. It looks like a chronic issue. The cartilage took a hit once before and has held up without surgery until now."
"!"
The hit was to the right knee, but Haaland's left knee had been a chronic problem all along.
"Honestly, as a doctor, I can't believe he's still been playing professional football with this body."
"Tch. Can it be treated?"
"He'll need surgery. You can't just leave it like this."
He took that in and headed to Haaland's room. His wife and three kids, who'd already heard the news, were huddled in his arms.
"Astor, Gabriel, oh! Our Erling too."
"Get better soon, Dad."
The two-year-old was already huge, with eyes that were anything but ordinary.
"Hey, Boss. I'm fine, right?"
With everyone looking worried, he couldn't bring himself to speak easily.
"We need to transfer you to Blackburn's designated hospital. This'll heal in three or four weeks, yeah?"
"It's match day today, and the other knee—why didn't you say anything?"
"!"
Haaland quietly handed Erling to his wife in Alf-ing and told her to step out. Then he tapped his bandaged leg and shrugged.
"Bad news?"
"The kicked one is the right, but the left knee needs surgery."
"It's been nagging since Leeds days. All that sliding on the pitch."
"Health comes before results. We'll support whatever treatment you want."
"No surgery. Blackburn's got great facilities, right?"
Haaland rejected surgery and insisted on rehab.
"Whether it's ice capsules to cool the bones, needles and burning herbs, sports massages all day, or slapping on cheese and rubbing alcohol—I'm not doing surgery."
Even knowing the state was bad, Haaland was dead set against the knife.
"We'll go to the Blackburn hospital first, check further, and follow the team doctor's advice."
He left the room to handle the transfer, thumbs-up from Haaland behind him. At the door stood the entire Blackburn squad. Berg ready to carry Haaland on his back, Southgate with flowers, Figo with a signing pen despite no cast, Yoo Sung-chul with a cake box—everyone was there.
"Alf, you okay?"
"Keano's got the Yard (British cops) swarming Old Trafford!"
Hah, these loyal bastards. Haaland clapped and spread his arms wide, inviting them all in. Beating United, visiting their teammate together, they bonded tight and headed back to Blackburn as one.
ROY KEANE: 'Just Returning the Favor, No Apologies.' Backlash erupts.
MAN UTD: 'Keane Lost It in the Moment, Not Intentional. Wishing Haaland a Speedy Recovery.'
Anonymous Man Utd Insider: 'Haaland's Been Dirty Since Leeds, Hacking Legs Left and Right. Karma.'
LUIS FIGO: 'Blackburn Won, So I'll Say This: Football's About Kicking the Ball, Not People.' Diss to Man Utd.
The papers were all about the Man Utd vs. Blackburn match. True to his word, he'd formally protested to the FA, and the disciplinary results came in.
ROY KEANE: £5,000 fine, 3-match suspension.
Manchester United squad: Mandatory fair play training.
"Tch, with that mouth of Roy Keane's, 10 matches would've been fair."
Ferguson raged at the punishment, claiming media overkill on Man Utd, but everyone knew the manager stepping up to shield his players.
Haaland stubbornly refused surgery and started treatment. Hoping the medical center investments paid off. Gattuso and Van Bommel returned from international duty to fill his spot, partnering with Baggio.
"Boss, heard about Alf. If I'd been there, I'd have erased that Roy Keane prick's face!"
"Next time we meet, I'll elbow his nose flat."
"Rino, Mark. Enough grim talk—focus on training."
Van Bommel and Gattuso dove back into training. Blackburn coalesced tighter, blasting through the league early.
Round 3 vs. Tottenham: 3-1 win.
Round 4 vs. Sunderland: 1-0 win.
Round 5 vs. Ipswich Town: 5-0 win. Roberto Baggio with 3 assists.
ROVERS' Ominous Start: 5 Straight Wins!
This Season's Rovers Are Different—Blackburn Charges Overwhelmingly.
Man Utd's 3-Peat Loss: League Throne Shifting? Blackburn Eyes Second PL Title Since '95.
Clipping every article and pinning them to the wall—for the parade if they won the title.
"Boss, it's starting soon."
"Ah, right."
Tonight was the Champions League group draw. Wanted to watch with Alice, but she had prior plans and apologized. Champions League win, then marriage—later, he'd ask about that "team she supports."
This season's Champions League: Groups A-H in first round, 4 teams each.
Top two advance to second round, third drops to UEFA Cup, fourth eliminated.
Recalling the group stage over two legs. Blackburn's prior win gave solid UEFA coefficient, but still Pot 3. Pot 3 with us: Ajax, PSV, Leverkusen, etc. Good results to climb to Pot 2, then Pot 1 top seed someday.
A: Real Madrid
B: Dortmund
C: Arsenal
D: Lazio
E: Juventus
F: Barcelona
G: Manchester United
H: Bayern Munich
Top seeds set. Lit a cigarette, eyeing Pot 2 nervously. Then Pot 3—ours.
Dortmund - Dynamo Kyiv - Blackburn Rovers - Boavista FC
"Whew, tricky group."
Last season's Bundesliga 3rd Dortmund, Ukraine champs Dynamo Kyiv, Portugal's Boavista who toppled Porto-Benfica-Sporting trio for the title. Group set.
Heynckes on TV clapping approvingly, glancing around. He stood too. Group confirmed—next week, first away Champions League.
Back at Westfalenstadion, still buzzing from their UEFA Cup win party. Dortmund's 60,000 fans ignited massive red flares from kickoff, unveiling a giant skull card section—pure Champions League atmosphere.
"Go Rovers!"
Clapping along, he watched his first Champions League as owner from VIP—Dortmund with Parma's Amoruso, Jan Koller, Rosicky, Jens Lehmann, stars galore.
But Blackburn went full attack post-kickoff. Heynckes, facing Germans on German soil, pulled midfield up like he'd been waiting. Gattuso and Van Bommel surged like attacking mids, lining up with Figo and Sean Wright-Phillips on the wings.
Dortmund's defender Sorensen cleared Phillips' ball to Rosicky, but Van Bommel muscled him off and stole it, passing to Baggio. Baggio, amid Dortmund's giants, rifled it goalward. The shot arced perfectly—Lehmann dove, but it sailed untouched into the net.
19th minute, goal. Baggio's class shone in his first Champions League for him, roaring before 60,000 at Westfalenstadion. True class is eternal—Baggio would rule as fantasy star for two more years.
Dortmund fought back hard. Playmaker Rosicky, from right mid, traded with central AM Lars Ricken, creeping into Blackburn's half. Not fast, low work rate—but when Van Bommel closed, he slipped away, threading to target man Jan Koller. The 2m beast extended a foot.
"Ugh?!"
WHAM! Thunderous impact echoed—Thuram hurled himself up, body-blocking Koller's cannon shot. Without that, 100% goal. Southgate cleared the rebound, Gattuso seized it. Gattuso advanced, to Figo—cross to Larsson's head, but Lehmann saved.
Dortmund's slow, piercing passes feeding axe-like strikes from Koller and Amoruso. Vs. Heynckes' Blackburn: hydraulic press, suffocating with speed and pressure.
90 minutes—1-0 final.
"Whew, precious away win."
No more old Blackburn, out in groups or playoffs after league titles. Westfalenstadion as their promised land—he returned with the squad, buzzing.