At 7 o'clock in the morning, the whole of Manchester was like a large machine with the start button pressed. Everyone living in the city was like a small part of this machine, all beginning a new day of busy work.
Scarlett Elan came out of her studio apartment on time, opened a gray parasol against the drizzle, and cursed inwardly, this damned weather again.
Because it had rained all night, the morning air felt very humid.
Scarlett worked at the Manchester Evening News. As a new graduate and an intern of just over a month, she had done well. Many senior reporters who worked with her were optimistic and felt she should be kept on.
The distance from her rented studio to the Manchester Evening News was not far, only about twenty minutes on foot. This was not a problem for Scarlett. She was not a girl who only knew how to hold a pen. She had good athletic ability, and walking twenty minutes a day was also a good way to stay in shape.
At least Scarlett's figure now was envied by her peers. It was not exactly hot, but it was well-proportioned and balanced. Together with her delicate features and short, crisp blonde hair, she gave a very energetic and capable impression.
Unlike other girls her age who liked to discuss how many people turned their heads to look at them or which man was more handsome, Scarlett was only interested in her work. This was why she had never lacked suitors over the years but had never been in a relationship.
Of course, a sister she knew who studied psychology in college once said this was because her parents divorced when she was young, which caused her to completely lose confidence in love and develop resistance.
The Manchester Evening News had some influence in Manchester and the paper was quite large. Scarlett was assigned to the sports section as an intern reporter, supposedly because she had written "sports" in the expertise column of her resume.
But in Manchester, there were not many readers who cared about marathons, let alone race walking. They only cared about football.
So, Scarlett became a football reporter as an intern.
"Scarlett, the editor-in-chief wants you in his office!" a colleague told her as soon as she entered.
As an intern, Scarlett was diligent and eager to achieve results quickly. She immediately ran to her desk, put her things down, put on her press badge, tidied her clothes, made sure everything was in order, then went to the editor-in-chief's office.
"Scarlett, sit down," Editor-in-chief Johnson said. He was a man in his thirties, the mature and charismatic type.
Scarlett sat opposite him.
Johnson looked at her. "Um... Scarlett, how long have you been at the paper?"
"One month and 21 days," Scarlett answered precisely.
"Well, that is not short. They all praise your ability, especially your sensitivity to news. I think it is time for you to stand on your own. What do you think?" Johnson asked with a pleasant smile.
Scarlett was overjoyed and could hardly believe her ears. "Really?"
"Yes, but I definitely cannot give you major news yet. You know, newspapers have their own rules."
"Yeah, I understand!" Scarlett did not feel disappointed. It was understandable.
"A tip just came in. I hear there is a friendly in Droylsden today. Both teams are amateur Manchester clubs. Normally, we would not pay much attention to amateur friendlies, but we have decided to give this one some coverage."
"Are you talking about... New Manchester United?" Scarlett did not like football very much, but after more than a month on the job it was impossible not to know that New Manchester United had been training in Droylsden.
And on Scarlett's first day as an intern, the first person she interviewed was New Manchester United's owner, Ethan.
When this club was mentioned, Scarlett pictured the fan who led a large crowd to demonstrate at the gates of Old Trafford, shouting that he would create his own football club, fanatical to the point of seeming a little crazy.
Had that guy's club really succeeded?
"Yes, New Manchester United. It is a very strange club, very newsworthy. I hope you can follow this thread and dig up more news. Can you do it?"
In this situation, if Scarlett said no, she would only embarrass herself.
Walking out of the editor-in-chief's office, Scarlett was filled with excitement. Yes, this was her first time taking the lead on a story. Although it was a small piece, judging by the editor's tone, it should get some space in the paper, which made her look forward to it.
"I must complete this report well!" Scarlett kept encouraging herself.
To prepare, Scarlett quickly geared up and arrived in Droylsden early.
Since it was still some time before kickoff, only a few scattered fans were around the stadium. They had probably just come to watch.
Standing in front of this old and worn stadium, Scarlett was a little surprised. Compared with the magnificent Old Trafford, this place was too remote and too quiet. Would anyone really come here to watch?
Looking through the information she had collected about Droylsden FC, this amateur club competing in the Northern Premier League had a maximum attendance of 1,300, and that was because a League Two team had come for an FA Cup tie and brought most of their loyal fans. At other times, the ground was often not full.
The Butcher's Arms Stadium was very fitting for Droylsden's nickname, the Bloods.
With a half-joking attitude, Scarlett walked to the stadium security office, which also served as the ticket office.
"Hello, sir, one ticket for this afternoon's warm-up match," Scarlett said with a polite smile.
"Sorry, sold out!" came the proud reply from the old security guard inside. This must have been the first time all tickets had sold out since he became a guard at Butcher Knife Stadium.
"Then... a standing ticket is fine!" Scarlett was a little surprised, but to complete her first report, she felt it was fine to stand.
"No more," the security guard replied proudly, adding, "Even the children's half-price tickets were sold out five days ago."
"Sold out five... five days ago?" Scarlett wondered if she had heard wrong.
"Yeah, lots of people are still calling and cannot book, but there is nothing we can do. Our ground is small." After saying this, the old guard muttered to himself, "If our club could get this attendance every match, Mr. Pace really should improve the stadium as soon as possible."
Scarlett did not catch the last part clearly. She walked to the gate in a daze and looked into the ground. The pitch inside looked extremely poor. It was the worst she had ever seen, like playing on sand.
Was it fun to play in such conditions?
"Are you a reporter?" Just as Scarlett was confused, a man's voice sounded behind her.
Scarlett was startled and quickly turned to see a young man with black hair and a sunny, handsome look standing in front of her. On closer inspection, was he not the fanatical supporter who had left such a deep impression?
"Yes... yes, I am an intern reporter at the Manchester Evening News, my name is Scarlett Elan!" Scarlett took out her press card as she spoke, though she thought he probably did not remember that she had interviewed him.
"Oh, then come in. You are the first reporter to attend our first game, so you get a free ticket!" Ethan said with a smile, opening a small door next to the security room and letting Scarlett follow him in.
"Uh... Mr. Yu, there is still some time before the match. Can I do an exclusive interview with you first?" Scarlett hurried a few steps to catch up.
Ethan stopped, turned, and shook his head. "Sorry, if you want an interview, please wait until the head coach and players arrive, then you can ask them. I do not like being interviewed."
He turned and walked into the office, closing the door behind him.
Seeing this, Scarlett curled her lips slightly, walked out of the passage, came to the track next to the pitch, picked up her camera, chose a good angle, and took a few photos of Butcher's Arms Stadium, including the stands and the grass.
Scarlett walked around the ground, took a dozen photos, and wrote several pages of notes about Butcher Knife, all in preparation for the report.
When she heard the stadium gate open, she thought the players were arriving and ran out immediately.
But what arrived was a group of early fans wearing red, green, and gold striped jerseys. She was a little disappointed, but when she saw a figure getting out of a black Volkswagen in the car park by the gate, she was suddenly shocked.
Steve Bruce.
The former Manchester United captain, known as the most outstanding legendary centre-back in the club's history, had been unemployed since leaving Birmingham. The Manchester Evening News had once wanted to give him an exclusive interview, but he had politely declined. She did not expect him to appear here.
Was he here to watch the match?
Just as Scarlett hesitated about greeting Steve Bruce, several more cars drove in from Market Street. After they stopped, the people who got out shocked Scarlett. If it had been before, she would never have believed these people would appear here.
Peter Schmeichel, David May, Denis Irwin, the Neville brothers, Wes Brown, Ryan Giggs, Nicky Butt, Solskjær, Scholes, Roy Keane... even David Beckham, who had just been sent off with a red card at the World Cup and become the villain of England, came.
Was this not the Red Rebel club regarded by outsiders as a traitor to Manchester United?
Why were Manchester United's main players arriving one after another?
(To be continued.)
PS: In reality, many Manchester United stars did help the Red Rebels, but I could not find their names and deeds.