Miller had it all. The wealth, the power, the prestige. But as he gazed at the astronomical figure in his bank account, a profound emptiness gnawed at him. It was a stark contrast to the carefree days of his youth.
He’d been reborn at seventeen, a second chance at life. His adoptive father, John Lehman, had left him a substantial inheritance, a windfall that had been drastically reduced by other family members. Undeterred, Miller had turned to his passion: football. Leveraging his knowledge of future events, he'd parlayed a small fortune into a much larger one.
With his newfound wealth, Miller had enrolled at Stanford, where he'd stumbled upon two promising computer science students, Larry Page and Sergey Brin. Sensing their potential, he'd invested in their fledgling company, Google, securing a significant stake.
His investments had continued to yield extraordinary returns. Miller had shrewdly capitalized on the dot-com boom, riding the wave of internet euphoria to unprecedented heights. Yet, amidst the financial triumph, a sense of desolation persisted.
Now, in November 2002, seven years after his rebirth, Miller found himself adrift. The pursuit of wealth had consumed him, leaving little room for personal fulfillment. He had become a ghost, haunting the halls of finance, a billionaire without a soul.
The vast emptiness in Miller's bank account mirrored the hollowness in his heart. Millions stretched before him, a testament to his financial acumen, yet a void gnawed at him. He’d chased wealth with laser focus, leaving behind a trail of neglected dreams.
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Just then, a beacon of color flickered on the television – a Premier League match. It was a Manchester derby, a clash between city rivals. Manchester City, then a far cry from the oil-fueled juggernaut it would become, was a mid-table team, a stark contrast to the mighty Manchester United.
Yet, for Miller, this City held a special significance. John, in turn, adopted Miller after his parents' passing. Despite John's warmth, the rest of the Lehman family remained distant, leading to Miller’s isolated upbringing in boarding schools.
As he reminisced, the game exploded into action. Anelka, a French prodigy whose career had been marred by inconsistency, put City ahead within five minutes. United, however, retaliated swiftly. The rarely-starting Solskjaer equalized just three minutes later. Miller leaned in, captivated by the unfolding battle.
City, emboldened, refused to crumble. Riding a two-game winning streak, they pressed United relentlessly. Their attacking prowess paid off. Goals from Goater in the 26th and 50th minute sealed a 3-1 victory for the home side. Kevin Keegan, the City manager, celebrated with his players, a stark contrast to the stoic Alex Ferguson across the field.
This, he realized with a jolt, was the last Manchester derby at Maine Road. The historic stadium, City's home for eight decades, was slated for demolition. Their new home, the City of Manchester Stadium, awaited them.
As the City players reveled with their fans, a thought sparked in Miller's mind. Perhaps, amidst the hollowness of his existence, there was room for something new. Maybe, just for fun, he could buy this very club. After all, wasn't life about more than just accumulating numbers on a screen? Maybe, just maybe, he could find purpose in the beautiful game.