When David returned to Nottingham, he was no longer a poor man—the sum of £120 million had transformed him into a small rich man. Unsurprisingly, he became the least popular gambler among all bookmakers.
But this was only his first pot of gold; soon, he would bid farewell to betting altogether, as it no longer offered him the challenge it once did.
Back home, the radical fans who had protested his financial gambles had long since dispersed, replaced by a familiar figure with a camera.
"My friend, don't tell me you stood here under the blazing sun waiting for me?" David feigned surprise when he saw the visitor.
It was Kevin White, a sports reporter from The Nottingham Evening News and an avid Notts County supporter. Through his job, he'd interacted with David on many occasions.
Yet today, White's face was clouded with disappointment and despair.
"You've mortgaged the club to the bank. It's the talk of the city. So why do you act like it's nothing? Is this the message you want to send to loyal Notts County fans?" Without waiting for a reply, White entered David's home, sat on the sofa, then abruptly rose to scold him.
David understood this wasn't journalism—it was the voice of a hurt fan speaking for many others.
"When you became chairman two years ago, you seemed like King Arthur, destined to lead Notts County to glory," White accused. "But now? Where's your fire? Have you given up? Are you really planning to sell the club and throw away its future?"
David said nothing, and this only fueled White's anger.
Recently, the Nottingham Post had published numerous articles mocking David's decision to mortgage the club—some even suggested he might resign in despair. The once-proud club was now a joke in England, they claimed.
David tossed a can of beer to White and relaxed as if none of the criticism touched him.
"I never said I was giving up the club. Do you believe these rumors?" David asked calmly.
"But you mortgaged the club! How can anyone trust you after that?" White's tone remained skeptical, though slightly softened.
David frowned—he wasn't angry, knowing the doubt came from genuine love and concern for the club.
"No matter the outcome, I understand why people are saddened by my choices," David acknowledged thoughtfully.
Setting his drink down, David explained firmly, "The mortgage was a calculated short-term investment. If it works, the club won't have financial worries for several seasons."
"A joke!" White growled, glaring. "The club's future is no laughing matter."
David smiled confidently. "But I've already succeeded."
White literally jumped in disbelief. "You succeeded?"
David wagged a finger with pride. "Yes, I have £100 million in hand. Imagine what the club will be like with that kind of injection."
White's mouth fell open. The shock on his face seemed almost surreal.
One hundred million pounds.
What did that number even mean for a third-tier club like Notts County?
To put it into perspective:
- The club's officially appraised value stood at around £15 million. £100 million could buy nearly seven such clubs outright.
- Belon, affectionately called the "White Wizard," was about to transfer to Manchester United for around £28 million. That amount could buy three players like him—plus have money left over. (Of course, Belon's talent couldn't be bought with money alone.)
- Arsenal's brand-new stadium cost about £150 million—a modern arena with a capacity of 60,000, among England's finest. Earlier projections had the cost near £400 million, though that was scheduled for completion several years in the future.
This made clear just how powerful David's £100 million injection was.
Kevin White, still overwhelmed, struggled to digest it all. David knew that once the news of this massive capital infusion spread, media and fans alike would understand things in a new light.
The problems would soon vanish, and David would be recognized again as the devoted, ambitious chairman—the "Notts County kid" ready to give everything to the team.
David imagined the joy this news would bring to the true believers among the fans—far outweighing even Christmas morning celebrations.
But for Nottingham Forest fans next door, this was far from good news.
David's recent actions had become a source of amusement and ridicule for the city's rivals, desperately hoping for a downfall to mock.
"How could he suddenly get so rich?"
"£100 million? That's enough to buy Nottingham City a few times over!"
They believed this sum would reignite their club's past glories and threaten Forest's dominance.
David smiled, anticipating the banter that awaited when fans of Notts County and Nottingham met.
Nottingham fans: "We have Premier League champions!"
Notts County fans: "Count the money—we have it now!"
Nottingham fans: "Two Champions League trophies under our belt!"
Notts County fans: "Count the money—we have it now!"
Nottingham fans: "We're in the top division, and you're still stuck in the second!"
Notts County fans: "Count the money—we have it now!"
Nottingham fans: "… Can't you say something else?"
Notts County fans: "Well, our club's history is older than yours."
Nottingham fans: "…"
Indeed, Notts County's history predates Nottingham Forest's by decades.