The Next Big Thing
Chapter 128: Breaking News

Chapter 128: Breaking News

While David was playing FIFA—or should I say losing at FIFA—to his online friend NOTZoeyBlack, his disinterest in Manchester United’s new coach was starting to show. His mindset was simple: "I just need to be good; it doesn’t matter who the coach is."

A mindset he would soon have to rethink in the days to come.

While he remained nonchalant, the rest of the world wasn’t.

Sky Sports Studios – Special Coverage on Erik ten Hag’s Appointment

The Sky Sports studio hummed with energy as the camera panned to the usual suspects. The big screen behind them flashed:

"BREAKING NEWS: MANCHESTER UNITED APPOINT ERIK TEN HAG AS MANAGER"

A dramatic pause followed, before Gary Neville sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Right. Here we go again."

Jamie Carragher chuckled. "United have hired another manager. I swear, this happens more often than Liverpool win at Old Trafford."

Roy Keane, arms folded, remained unimpressed. "It’s another ’rebuild,’ lads. How many is that now since Sir Alex left? Five? Six?"

"I think it’s seven," Carragher said with a grin. "I’ve lost count, Gary, honestly. You lot replace managers like I replace my Sky remote batteries."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you, Jamie?"

Carragher smirked. "I do enjoy a bit of consistency, yeah. Like finishing above United."

Neville ignored him. "Look, Ten Hag is a great coach. What he did at Ajax—getting to the Champions League semi-final, playing attacking football, developing young players—it’s impressive. But let’s be real. The problems at United aren’t just about the manager."

Keane leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Spot on. The dressing room is weak. Soft. I see players sulking when they lose the ball, walking instead of tracking back—this isn’t Manchester United. You could bring in Prime Sir Alex, Klopp, Guardiola, all of them together, and even they’d struggle with this lot."

Carragher, loving the tension, grinned. "Roy, let’s be honest, United have been a banter club for years now."

Keane didn’t even flinch. "Jamie, you played for a banter club your whole career. Let’s not start."

Neville burst into laughter, while Carragher threw up his hands. "Oh, here we go! The ’Liverpool were terrible in the 90s’ speech! Yes, Roy, we know. You lot were brilliant, we were rubbish. But at least Liverpool got back to the top. What’s United doing? Finishing third and acting like they’ve won the treble?"

Carragher, always eager to wind up his old rival, grinned. "But let’s be honest, Gary, part of the reason United are in this mess is because you and the rest of the Class of ’92 kept protecting Ole for too long. He should’ve been gone earlier."

Neville groaned. "Oh, here we go—"

"No, no, let’s talk about it!" Carragher pushed on. "United finished third this season, fine, but they were 33 points behind Liverpool. Thirty-three, Gary! That’s not ’progress,’ that’s being in a different sport altogether!"

Keane, still unimpressed, grunted. "It’s embarrassing. Manchester United used to be about winning titles. Now, finishing third is some kind of achievement? Give me a break. And don’t even get me started on the Europa League exit"

Keane grunted. "I wouldn’t know. I don’t celebrate third place." He said to a question about what he would have done if it was him from Jamie

The room fell silent for a second before Neville cleared his throat. "Alright, let’s focus on Ten Hag. What does he need to fix first?"

Keane didn’t hesitate. "The midfield. You’re not winning anything with McTominay and Fred. I like them, they work hard, but work rate isn’t enough at this level. You need quality. Where’s the leadership in that midfield? Who’s the guy you trust to take control?"

Carragher jumped in. "It’s not just the midfield. That defence, Gary, it’s shocking. Maguire had a solid first season, but after that? He’s looked like he’s carrying a fridge on his back. Lindelöf? Alright on his day, but is he leading you to a title? Wan-Bissaka? Great at tackling, but I’ve seen park footballers deliver better crosses."

Neville sighed. "And then there’s De Gea. We know how good he can be, but how many times has he cost United points in the last two years? The mistakes, the lack of commanding his box—United need to decide if he’s still the number one."

Keane scoffed. "I’ll tell you what, he wouldn’t be my number one. A goalkeeper should dominate his area. He looks afraid to come off his line half the time. That’s not Manchester United standard."

Neville brought the discussion back. "Okay, so we know the problems. But what about the manager? Ten Hag—what does he bring?"

Carragher answered first. "Structure. If there’s one thing we know, it’s that he demands a proper system. His Ajax team pressed, they played quick, attacking football, but more importantly, they knew their roles. United haven’t looked like a well-coached team in years."

Keane nodded. "Discipline. That’s what I want to see. No more strolling around the pitch after losing possession. No more excuses. If you don’t run, you don’t play. It’s as simple as that."

Neville agreed. "But will he be backed? That’s the real issue. We’ve seen this before—Van Gaal, Mourinho, Solskjaer—they all talked about a long-term plan, but two years in, they were gone."

Carragher grinned. "Gary, I’ll be honest. United don’t do ’long-term plans.’ They do panic buys and sacking managers after 18 months."

Neville groaned. "We need to break that cycle, Jamie. Ten Hag needs backing in the transfer window."

Keane raised an eyebrow. "Alright then, Gary. If you’re Ten Hag, who do you buy?"

Neville didn’t hesitate. "Declan Rice. A real leader in midfield. United have lacked that since Michael Carrick retired."

Carragher scoffed. "Declan Rice? You think West Ham are just going to hand him over? That’s a £100 million player, minimum."

Keane cut in. "Forget Rice. Get a proper striker. Martial is always injured, Rashford blows hot and cold. United need a real number nine."

Neville sighed. "The list is long. A midfielder, a right-back, a striker, probably a new goalkeeper. And Ten Hag will want players who actually fit his style, not just big names."

Carragher smirked. "So basically, United need half a squad."

Keane shrugged. "Yep. That’s the reality."

Neville turned to the camera. "Look, Erik ten Hag is a great coach, but he’s stepping into chaos. He has to deal with the dressing room issues, sort out the recruitment, and actually impose his style on a group of players who’ve been underperforming for years. It’s not an easy job."

Carragher grinned. "And if it all goes wrong, we’ll be here again next year, talking about another new manager!"

Keane shook his head. "And I’ll still be saying the same thing—get rid of the weak mentality, get proper players in, and start acting like Manchester United again."

"MORE UPDATES TO FOLLOW"

The camera zoomed out as the debate continued, the voices of the pundits fading as millions of fans around the world wondered—was Erik ten Hag truly the man to bring back the glory days? Or was this just another Chapter in United’s never-ending crisis?

As the camera zoomed out, the Sky Sports panel continued their debate, their voices overlapping in a mix of laughter, frustration, and brutal honesty. Just as the feed was about to cut to commercial, something unexpected happened.

The screen glitched for a moment before flickering back on.

The panelists looked confused. The show wasn’t ending.

For a split second, there was silence in the studio. Then, a Sky Sports producer—usually unseen and unheard—walked up behind Gary Neville, whispering something quickly into his ear.

Neville’s eyes widened. "Are you for real?"

The producer nodded, expression dead serious.

Carragher, always the joker, leaned forward. "Oi, what’s happening? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Gary."

Keane, raising an eyebrow, folded his arms. "What’s going on?"

Neville didn’t respond immediately. He simply turned his head, blinking in shock.

Micah Richards, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up. "Gary, mate, what is it? The episode was supposed to end two minutes ago!"

As the crew whispered amongst themselves, the air in the Sky Sports studio felt heavy—like something was about to drop. Then, suddenly, the ticker at the bottom of the screen flickered and updated in real time.

BREAKING: MANCHESTER UNITED IN SHOCK MOVE FOR CRISTIANO RONALDO – Fabrizio Romano

For a split second, no one spoke. It was as if the entire room had stopped breathing.

Neville exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Well... I guess Erik ten Hag also knows about the number nine problem."

Silence.

Carragher, who had been casually leaning back in his chair, sat upright. His eyes flicked between Neville and the screen. "Wait, wait, wait. Say that again."

Keane’s brows furrowed, his sharp gaze now locked onto the breaking news. "You’re telling me Cristiano Ronaldo—our old number seven—is coming back?"

Neville didn’t respond. He simply pointed at the screen.

Micah Richards, who had been oddly quiet, suddenly burst out laughing—loud and unrestrained. "Nah, nah, nah, this has to be a joke! You lot just spent the last hour debating how United need a striker, and now this?!"

Carragher was still in shock. "No, no, no, hold on. We’ve been talking about a rebuild, a project, patience... But this?! This is different. This is Cristiano Ronaldo."

Roy Keane leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His face was unreadable, but there was a flicker—something in his eyes that wasn’t quite skepticism. "I’ll tell you what—if they pull this off, that changes things. That changes everything."

Neville, still processing, slowly shook his head. "We’ve said it time and time again—United need a striker. But no one, no one, expected this."

The tension in the room was suffocating. Even Carragher, usually the first to dismiss wild transfer rumors, just sat there, blinking. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

Micah Richards, still grinning, shook his head in disbelief. "This is madness."

Keane exhaled sharply. "Let me be clear—if he’s coming back, he better not be here for a retirement tour. Because this club doesn’t need nostalgia. It needs winners."

Neville turned toward the camera, his voice steady but charged with emotion. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, you heard it here first. Manchester United—a club in transition, a club searching for answers—is making a shock move for Cristiano Ronaldo."

The studio remained frozen for a moment longer. Then—

The screen cut to black.

And in millions of homes across the world, football fans stared at their screens, knowing they had just witnessed the start of something historic.

The news was everywhere. Manchester United and Cristiano Ronaldo—linked in the same sentence.

One of the biggest clubs in football. One of the biggest stars in the sport.

The sheer weight of the story took over the internet like wildfire. Social media exploded. Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook were flooded with posts, reactions, and memes. Pundits, ex-players, fans—everyone had something to say.

The Sky Sports clip of Gary Neville’s stunned reaction was already trending, while Fabrizio Romano’s "Here We Go?" had been screenshotted and shared thousands of times.

But while the world was reacting, in one quiet corner of Manchester, a 16-year-old United youth player sat frozen in his living room, staring at his TV screen.

David Jones had just been hearing the news for the first time.

His FIFA game sat on pause, forgotten. The controller lay limp in his hands, his eyes locked onto the breaking news banner scrolling across the bottom of his screen.

Cristiano Ronaldo. Back to Manchester United?

He blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, as if his brain had finally caught up with reality, he burst out laughing in disbelief.

Yesterday, something absolutely insane happened!

First off, take a look at my Golden Tickets—you’ll see 23 sitting there. Crazy, right? But here’s the wild part: they came from just two people!

DotGov, who has already sent me 11 Golden Tickets since the month started (seriously, you’re amazing—thank you so much!), and then something even crazier happened...

MizuKen, who had already sent me 5 last month, came back and dropped a whopping 12 Golden Tickets in one go! Twelve! This is not a typo—twelve! Are you kidding me?!

This is just insane, man. What?! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re absolutely legendary, bro. I appreciate you so much! 🙌🔥

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