The game started, and it was immediately clear that this would be a clash of philosophies, a tactical chess match of the highest order. City, unbeaten in the league and brimming with confidence, came at us with the arrogance of champions.
Foden, wearing the number 47 shirt, orchestrated their play from deep, his passes crisp and incisive. Sancho and Diaz terrorized the flanks, their movement a constant threat. City, with their tiki-taka, their relentless passing, their fluid movement, were like a modern-day Barcelona.
They kept the ball for what felt like an eternity, their players a blur of one-touch passes and intelligent rotations, their movement a mesmerizing, hypnotic dance. But we were ready. We were Inter Milan from 2010, a disciplined, organized, and utterly ruthless defensive unit. We didn't park the bus... we adapted to the circumstances.
