Chapter 116: Unstoppable Bayswater China! C: I Am the Best in the World!
There were no surprises in Premier League Matchweek 27.
Although Liverpool lost 1–2 away to Newcastle, most people didn't see it as a true upset. The Magpies had never been considered a weak side.
Bayswater China hosted Aston Villa in the first match of the round—an efficient and controlled victory.
Yang Cheng knew that the closer it got to the decisive stages, the more cautious he had to be.
If the blitz at kickoff didn't work?
No problem—no rush.
In the 16th minute, Lass Diarra assisted Modrić to open the scoring.
Near the end of the second half, Džeko delivered another assist, and Modrić struck again.
A brace.
Bayswater China's captain didn't score often, wasn't flashy—but when the team needed him, he delivered.
Chelsea won 3–0 at home over Middlesbrough. Drogba also scored twice.
Manchester United played it safe, beating Charlton 2–0 at Old Trafford.
Arsenal, meanwhile, fell behind at home to Wigan but came back late with two goals to win 2–1.
Just as Ferguson had said—Wigan wasn't a bad team.
That was their ninth straight loss.
But the real issue probably lay within the team itself.
After Matchweek 27, international players began heading off to join their national teams.
But this round of call-ups would only last a week, and there was just one international match.
Yang Cheng used this time to finally move forward with something he had long been preparing.
…
In the past couple of years, anyone who'd met Tim Harkness couldn't resist joking:
"Wow, you really look like Gordon Ramsay from Hell's Kitchen."
At first, Harkness didn't get the reference.
He'd never seen the show and didn't know who Gordon Ramsay was.
Later, he watched the FOX reality series.
And yeah—he did kinda look like him.
But he couldn't cook.
He was a sports psychologist.
Tim Harkness was South African, born and raised in Durban in a wealthy household. He attended Michaelhouse, the best private school in South Africa, and later studied at University of KwaZulu-Natal, spending seven years there and earning a Master of Arts in Humanities.
Yes—he'd always been fascinated by the human sciences.
In 1990, he entered university and joined SCUBA, the international diving organization. For five years, he worked as a lecturer and instructor trainer in places like Durban and Sodwana Bay.
As part of his master's program, he spent extensive time in the Drakensberg Mountains, studying baboons and their internal social behavior.
He received his MA in 1997 and became a licensed psychologist in 1998, opening a private practice in Durban.
Business was good. He helped numerous children and adults with psychological issues.
Eventually, athletes started coming to him too.
By 2001, he joined a health consultancy firm as a psychological advisor, where he encountered a wide range of clients—banking executives, corporate elites, rising politicians, celebrities, and more.
But his most frequent clients were athletes—professional rugby players, cricketers, golfers, surfers.
He discovered that many athletes desperately needed mental support, but had no one to provide it.
In elite sports, psychological struggles were often labeled as weakness or cowardice.
And that was wrong.
Recently, he had taken on a new client—Abhinav Bindra, 24, an Indian 10-meter air rifle shooter.
Born into wealth, Bindra's father was India's largest exporter of shooting gear. The boy had been exposed to firearms since childhood and showed exceptional talent by age 15. His father hired top-level coaches to guide him.
He trained obsessively and climbed the ranks quickly.
In 2005, he finished fourth at the Asian Championships in Bangkok.
In 2006, he won gold at the World Championships in Zagreb.
But then, the "illness" began.
India had never won an individual Olympic gold in its history.
For a nation of over a billion people, that was intolerable.
Suddenly, all of India pinned its hopes on Bindra to finally break the gold-medal drought at the 2008 Olympics.
The immense pressure from his family and the country made the 24-year-old buckle.
Who would've thought that a seemingly blessed young man, born into wealth, with elite training and accolades, would also need mental help?
So he turned to Tim Harkness.
After just one session, they clicked. Both parties were considering a long-term collaboration.
India wanted Tim Harkness to guide Bindra through the 2008 Olympics.
But unfortunately, that plan was now on hold.
Because he'd just accepted an even more enticing offer.
From Bayswater China, the Premier League leaders.
What truly convinced him?
A phone call from Yang Cheng.
…
When Harkness arrived in London, a Mercedes picked him up at the airport.
He was taken to stay at the Lancaster Hotel, just north of Hyde Park.
The next day, the same driver took him to visit the Brent Training Base, located in the western suburbs.
There, Harkness saw a state-of-the-art youth academy and the intense construction of a modern training center.
He was later taken to Wembley Stadium.
The sheer scale of it overwhelmed him.
£780 million—felt like the entire stadium was built of gold.
Only on the third day of his London trip was he finally brought to Bayswater Stadium.
Located in North Hyde Park, near Queensway station, it stood in the heart of the Queens Road district—a half-finished building.
Standing outside, Harkness instantly understood why they'd arranged the tour in this specific order.
If they'd brought him here first, his instinct might've been to turn and run.
From the outside, it looked nothing like a wealthy, elite football club.
"Hello, Tim. Welcome to London."
Led into the administrative offices, he immediately recognized Yang Cheng.
They'd spoken on the phone—he remembered that voice clearly.
Before coming to London, he had looked up both the club and the man behind it.
"Nice to meet you, Yang. It's an honor."
Yang Cheng introduced him to two of the club's senior executives: CEO Adam Crozier and Chief Financial Officer Xia Qing.
He also introduced his core technical team:
Assistant coach Brian Kidd,
Performance analyst Sade Forsyth,
Fitness coach Oliver Bartlett,
Data analysis director Gianni Vio,
and nutrition expert Neil Cannon, who had joined the club last year.
Cannon held a master's in sports physiology and nutrition from Loughborough University, and had worked with several UK sports organizations—rowing, tennis, athletics, and football. He was well-respected in the industry.
In fact, in his previous life, Yang Cheng had already known Tim Harkness.
In 2008, Tim Harkness guided India to its first-ever individual Olympic gold medal, launching his career into the spotlight.
But now? Who knows if that Indian athlete will ever reach the top?
In 2009, Chelsea signed Harkness on a lucrative deal to become their sports psychologist.
While there, his greatest contribution was providing mental support and emotional balance for the players.
But the study that most fascinated Yang Cheng was something Harkness called "The Confidence Project."
It wasn't just basic sports therapy. It was a long-term framework for building mental resilience in athletes.
Even Petr Čech, during his time as a technical advisor at Chelsea, strongly supported the project.
In simple terms, Harkness tried to use modern science and data analysis to create a psychological coding system for players.
What did that mean?
By analyzing a player's behavior in training, matches, and even off-field habits, he would assign "confidence points" to their actions.
For example, in a game, two players might look equally effective—but one of them might avoid difficult plays due to lack of confidence, while the other makes bold, decisive choices even under pressure.
These details could be spotted on film—and scored.
He also tracked traits like focus, motivation, and decision-making under pressure.
By gathering these metrics over time, Harkness could construct a comprehensive psychological profile of each player.
In his previous life, Yang Cheng had heard plenty about Eden Hazard.
People often said that Hazard received excellent psychological care at Chelsea, but at Real Madrid, those same mechanisms were missing. That discrepancy, they said, contributed to his decline.
There were plenty of similar cases—across all levels of the game.
When Yang Cheng coached Arsenal in his past life, he had brought in a renowned sports psychologist.
The first thing that expert did?
He banned using surnames to refer to players.
Why?
Because that's what the media, fans, and sponsors called them. It turned them into products, into branding.
When your own team calls you by your jersey name, it reinforces that you're an object, not a person.
So the psychologist encouraged everyone to use nicknames or first names instead.
"Players have money, fame, influence. They're young. They have millions of fans. But the one thing they're not… is themselves. We need to help them reconnect with the positive, human side of who they are."
What good is that on the pitch?
"You'll notice, Yang," he said, "the duos and partnerships who look in sync on the field—who play as if they're telepathic—those players are almost always close friends off the field."
"Ronaldinho and Deco from Barça's Dream Team II.
Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets—and later the MSN trio.
Kroos and Modrić at Real Madrid.
Cristiano Ronaldo and Marcelo…"
"Go even further back—to United's Class of '92…"
"When players feel emotionally secure with those around them, when they're truly friends, the on-field chemistry becomes something immeasurable."
"Often, they don't even need instruction. They just know what the other wants. They do it willingly, without expecting anything in return."
"Isn't that more powerful than any tactic?"
"But players who don't click off the pitch?
Forget 1+1=2. You're lucky if they even reach 1."
This belief was at the heart of what Yang Cheng had been trying to build at Bayswater China:
A football club with heart.
That's why he told Yaya Touré he wasn't just a player—he was a living person.
It was also why Yang Cheng prioritized signing and developing young players.
…
Per Yang Cheng's vision, the performance department was about to undergo a functional reorganization.
They would create a new Department of Sports Science.
It was exactly what the name implied.
Sade Forsyth's performance analysis team would be absorbed into the department.
The five fitness coaches, currently under Oliver Bartlett, would also fall under this umbrella.
Bartlett himself would now be part of the sports science team.
Also joining:
Tim Harkness (psychologist)
Neil Cannon (nutritionist)
Gianni Vio (data analyst)
David Fevre (medical director)
Rob Price (head physiotherapist)
In essence, this new sports science division would serve as a cross-functional hub.
"Professional football has come to a turning point," Yang Cheng explained.
"With the growth of science and technology, and improvements in training, everything has to become more precise and more professional."
"And that will inevitably challenge—and even overturn—the traditional coaching model."
Maybe it wasn't like this at other clubs.
But at Bayswater China, it was becoming the new standard.
As the departments expanded, so did their roles.
And with that came a major new problem: communication costs.
A single player injury could now involve half the club.
Which meant one thing: finger-pointing.
In the past, with a handful of coaches, decisions were made together.
Now?
Each department had multiple people—some teams had three, others five.
Take Yaya Touré's injury last time.
Everyone had to sit down and meet about it—with Yang Cheng mediating.
What if he hadn't been there?
It would've been a circus of blame.
A simple, moderate muscle strain might spark internal chaos.
One department blames the fitness staff: "You trained him too hard."
Another blames the nutritionists: "You fed him the wrong thing."
Then someone points at the data analysts: "Bad tracking metrics."
And finally the medical team: "You failed to prevent it."
It was very real.
Any growing company reaches this stage.
So Yang Cheng said: no more silos.
From now on, all performance staff report to the Sports Science Department.
The heads of each sub-team would sit together, plan together, and make decisions together.
If a problem arises, the first instinct should be to solve it, not to avoid blame.
These were matters Yang Cheng could have decided on his own.
But he wanted to initiate a culture shift.
Because he didn't want to repeat Ferguson's mistakes.
As long as he was in charge, things ran smoothly.
But he wouldn't be here forever.
And besides, how much can one man really handle?
Wasn't it time to actually enjoy life as the son of a billionaire?
Like, go on a date? Take a break?
Smart people use their mouths, not their backs.
Sure, with just over thirty full-time staff in the first team, this was manageable for now.
But in the future, with more people, new systems would be needed.
In addition to founding the Sports Science Department, Yang Cheng also decided to implement paperless administration between the technical and admin teams.
He would hire a dedicated assistant to record all meetings, summarize decisions, and maintain clear communication across departments.
Everyone began using smartphones or laptops for work, joined shared group chats, and communicated directly in threads.
One of Bayswater China's biggest advantages was its young coaching staff.
The oldest member was Brian Kidd.
So pushing for a paperless workflow was not only feasible, but also a big boost to efficiency.
…
February 17, afternoon — FA Cup Fifth Round.
Bayswater China hosted Derby County, a high-flying Championship team with Premier League ambitions.
Despite that, Yang Cheng fielded an entirely rotated squad, preserving his best players for the upcoming Champions League and league matches next week.
Di María had an outstanding performance—one goal, one assist—leading the team to a 2–0 win.
The team advanced to the quarterfinals without much trouble.
…
February 20, evening — Stade de Gerland, Lyon, France.
Champions League Round of 16, first leg.
Bayswater China were away to Lyon.
The reigning kings of Ligue 1, five-time consecutive champions, and with the way things were going, a sixth title looked inevitable.
Lyon was a powerhouse.
At the back: Abidal, Cris, Squillaci.
In midfield: Juninho Pernambucano, Tiago, and Alou Diarra.
Up front: Malouda, Fred, and Govou—all top-tier European talents.
Even their bench had a young Karim Benzema.
Truthfully, Yang Cheng had once considered signing Benzema.
But Lyon wasn't an easy club to deal with, and Aulas—the infamous "vampire chairman"—was greed incarnate. There was no way he'd let Benzema go cheap.
In the end, Yang Cheng chose Lewandowski instead.
Affordable, high value, and most importantly, the Polish striker was supremely talented.
Standing on the away bench at Stade de Gerland, Yang Cheng glanced at the youthful Benzema on Lyon's bench and thought:
It's time to give Lewandowski more chances.
He couldn't fall behind Benzema now, could he?
Lewandowski had trained all season with the first team, played regularly with the reserves and youth squad, and featured in cup games.
At 18 years old, the match intensity he was getting was more than enough for solid development.
And so far, he had delivered.
As for Lambert, Yang Cheng increasingly felt he was starting to fall behind the squad's overall level.
Still decent as a sub, but not starter material anymore.
Yang Cheng made a mental note:
When they got back to London, he'd sit down with Lewandowski—fire him up, boost his morale, and start increasing his minutes.
…
Before a crowd of 40,000 French fans, Bayswater China—wearing white—opened the match with a full-on blitz.
Premier League teams had grown accustomed to Bayswater China's lightning starts and had developed counters.
Lyon had heard about it too, but they hadn't lived it.
And football's like that—you can't simulate match intensity unless you've felt it.
Just two minutes in, Džeko fired a long-range shot.
The Bosnian striker was growing in confidence by the day.
His shot was saved by keeper Grégory Coupet.
Then Arshavin tried one from a bit closer—Coupet fumbled the ball.
Unfortunately, Džeko couldn't get to the rebound in time.
Lyon's coach, Gérard Houllier—Liverpool's former treble-winning manager—was having heart palpitations on the sideline, barking orders non-stop.
Watching the poised Yang Cheng across the pitch, Houllier felt a strange sense of relief.
Good thing I'm not coaching in the Premier League anymore.
High pressing, rapid fire passes, lightning-fast transition play…
It was overwhelming.
Then in the 6th minute, Bayswater China earned a corner.
Leighton Baines took it from the left—not to the near post or center, but to the far post.
Džeko leapt high, heading it back across goal.
Yaya Touré, who had been lurking at the edge of the box, charged in like a battle tank, crashing into the six-yard area and hammering a header into the back of the net.
1–0!
Houllier stood there stunned.
Was Lyon lacking physicality?
No—he had started Alou Diarra specifically for that reason.
1.89 meters, of Malian descent, incredibly strong physically—he should've matched Touré.
In fact, some media had even compared Alou Diarra to a "technically downgraded Yaya Touré."
He was two years older than Touré too.
But in that moment, he couldn't stop him at all.
…
Scoring six minutes in only pushed Bayswater China to go harder.
They didn't care that it was an away game.
They kept going at Lyon like a pack of wolves.
Lyon's first shot of the game came in the 16th minute—a corner from Juninho, and Govou's header missed wide.
But immediately after, Bayswater China countered.
Džeko latched onto a Maicon through ball—offside.
Two minutes later, Modrić switched play to the left. Ashley Young drove to the edge of the box, stopped on a dime, shifted the ball to his right, and whipped in a low cross.
Džeko's header smacked the post.
That was the 22nd minute.
The Ligue 1 giants had no answer for Bayswater China's playstyle—and had already conceded an away goal.
But what caught Yang Cheng's attention was something else.
He looked over just as Džeko was flagged offside again.
"How many times?" he asked Brian Kidd.
"Fourth," Kidd replied, meeting Yang Cheng's eyes.
They understood each other immediately.
Bayswater China's tempo was blistering, and they played a lot of direct passes.
Lyon's two center-backs—Cris (1.83m) and Squillaci (1.85m)—weren't slow, but they weren't agile either.
Their turning radius was wide, and their reaction time slow when shifting from attack to defense.
To counter Džeko, Houllier chose to use an offside trap.
By the 33rd minute, it happened again—Arshavin's through ball, Džeko made his run, flagged offside.
Yang Cheng let out a soft chuckle.
He stepped to the sideline and signaled to Džeko and Arshavin to swap roles.
He also passed an instruction to Modrić.
In the 35th minute, the attack came again.
Maicon, pushing up the right, took a pass from Lass Diarra.
But instead of going wide, he cut inside through the channel…
Just when everyone thought Bayswater China were about to launch another ball behind the defense, Džeko suddenly dropped deep, raising his hand to call for the ball.
His unexpected movement pulled Cris forward to follow him.
At the same moment, a white blur darted past Cris on his blind side.
Maicon's pass arrived right on time.
Arshavin controlled it into space behind him, took off in a full sprint, and in an instant, shook off Squillaci and broke through clean on goal.
At that moment, Stade de Gerland erupted.
Arshavin surged into the penalty area and, facing the onrushing Coupet, threw a clever fake to open up the shooting angle, then calmly rolled the ball into the unguarded net.
2–0!
…
The first half ended 2–0.
But Lyon now faced a dilemma.
Push forward and risk conceding more goals, or stay compact and passive, knowing that conceding two away goals at home would make the second leg nearly impossible to turn around.
But for Lyon, this wasn't really a problem.
Just reaching the Round of 16 had already been a success.
So in the second half, they focused mostly on defense.
In the 60th minute, Houllier brought on Benzema, clearly with the intention of giving the youngster some experience.
He also subbed in former Arsenal player Wiltord for Govou.
Yang Cheng made changes of his own.
Walcott came on for Arshavin.
In the 74th minute, the English youngster received a pass on the right wing, used his pace to blow past Abidal, and entered the box.
Facing Squillaci, he pulled off two stepovers, beat him cleanly, then struck with his left foot from the right edge of the penalty arc—just over the bar.
Even though he missed, Yang Cheng applauded from the sideline.
Not just because of the left-footed shot, which was well-aimed…
More importantly, Walcott was clearly more confident. Under Yang Cheng's guidance, he was now bold enough to take on defenders, to cut inside, to dribble at pace.
That kind of self-belief doesn't come out of nowhere—it's built over time.
On the left flank, Gareth Bale was different.
Taller, stronger, more powerful—but his footwork couldn't match Walcott's agility.
However, Bale's direct attacking and finishing were even more dangerous.
Di María, of the three, was technically the best, with the strongest one-on-one skills. Despite looking skinny, he was deceptively durable.
In Yang Cheng's blueprint, these three were the future of Bayswater China.
…
Thanks to goals from Yaya Touré and Arshavin, Bayswater China beat Lyon 2–0 away, making a huge statement in the Champions League knockout stage.
It was a brilliant start to their first-ever UCL knockout campaign.
Everyone now realized—this team was no joke.
Elsewhere, Manchester United edged Lille 1–0 away.
Liverpool stunned Barcelona 2–1 at the Camp Nou.
Chelsea drew 1–1 with Porto.
Overall, the Premier League was performing far better in Europe than in recent years.
And that only highlighted how much Arsenal had dragged them down.
Why?
Because they lacked ambition.
When Arsenal were Europe's main rep, the Premier League underperformed.
Now?
Look at everyone else.
What?
Arsenal reached the Champions League final last season?
Then why aren't they even in the tournament this year?
Will they even qualify for next season?
…
February 24th, midday — Craven Cottage, West London.
Premier League Matchweek 28. Fulham vs. Manchester United.
The match was nearing its end.
Ferguson stood stone-faced, eyes fixed on the pitch.
Next to him, Fulham boss Chris Coleman was already preparing to celebrate.
For them, this was a huge "win."
And for London clubs in general, too.
But for United?
A complete failure.
Due to Champions League and FA Cup obligations, Ferguson had been forced to rotate heavily, and it was showing.
Fulham scored early—McBride, the American striker, put them ahead.
He had a habit of scoring against the top clubs, already with nine goals this season.
United pushed hard to respond.
In the 29th minute, Giggs slid a pass down the left for Rooney, who crossed it back in.
Giggs ran into the box unmarked and headed it home.
1–1.
But from there, it was a grind.
United dominated possession, created chances—but nothing clear.
Meanwhile, Fulham kept countering and even came close.
Right after the break, they nearly scored again.
Only the brilliance of Van der Sar kept United alive.
Then, in the 52nd minute, Simon Davies turned and hit a powerful volley bound for the bottom corner.
It should've been a goal.
But again—Van der Sar.
Then, in the 54th, Fulham hit the crossbar.
The first ten minutes of the second half?
United played like crap.
Ferguson was furious on the sideline.
He knew—it was fatigue.
So he subbed Vidic off for O'Shea, trying to stabilize the backline.
It barely worked.
Fulham were still going blow for blow with United—and even had the upper hand at times.
United, meanwhile, couldn't break through.
Rooney? Cold.
Larsson? Ineffective.
Cristiano Ronaldo? Not a single shot on target.
In desperation, Ferguson made his final move in the 67th minute.
He brought on Saha, creating a front three of Saha, Larsson, and Rooney, with Giggs, Scholes, and Ronaldo behind them.
Ferguson had gone all-in.
He'd used all three subs.
There was no plan B.
It was do or die.
If they didn't beat Fulham tonight, they could kiss the title goodbye.
He knew the pressure they were under.
United and Bayswater China had been neck-and-neck for weeks, neither side budging.
And now, with the schedule tightening, the pressure was suffocating.
But Ferguson believed—United players had to learn to handle that pressure.
As time ticked away, Ferguson stood nervously at the edge of his technical area.
Every few seconds, he glanced up at the scoreboard.
Still 1–1.
The clock kept ticking.
89th minute.
The fourth official raised the board: 2 minutes of stoppage time.
Three minutes left.
Ferguson closed his eyes.
He could already see it—Bayswater China's celebration tonight. And tomorrow.
…
Back in midweek against Lille, Cristiano Ronaldo had been subbed off in the 67th minute.
He was furious.
At the time, it was 0–0.
He didn't know that Giggs would go on to score in the 83rd.
So, in frustration, he kicked a water bottle, sending it flying.
The media jumped on it.
Headlines exploded. Accusations of arrogance, immaturity, diva behavior.
But no one ever stopped to consider—maybe Ronaldo just wanted to keep fighting for his team.
Maybe he just didn't want to come off.
But no one believed that.
They Preferred to Believe He Was Just Rebellious, Just Temperamental, Just Acting Like a Diva
They preferred to believe that Cristiano Ronaldo was rebellious, had a bad temper, and was simply showing off.
But Ferguson believed in him.
After the match, the United boss told him,
"Even if your whole body grew a hundred mouths, you still couldn't outargue the media!"
"You'll never convince someone who's got their ears plugged while arguing with you!"
"The only thing you can do is prove them wrong with facts!"
So, in this match, Ronaldo was extremely active.
He kept seeking opportunities, creating chances, and taking shots.
But today, his luck was utterly awful.
The more he wanted to score, the further away the goal seemed.
Tonight, Manchester United could not accept a draw!
Ferguson had made that clear before the match and again at halftime.
That's why he brought on Saha.
Now the front line was packed with attacking players.
Everyone was trying their best.
No one was giving up.
Even as the clock ticked down to the final moments.
But it still wasn't enough!
United's main issue now was that they couldn't get the ball into the final third.
Ronaldo saw it all clearly.
The Portuguese winger lifted his head, glancing at the scoreboard.
Nearly 90 minutes gone.
No time left!
When he saw the defenders passing the ball slowly at the back, he didn't care about the system anymore.
He sprinted back down the left wing, past the halfway line into his own half.
Hugging the sideline, he raised his hand and shouted loudly, "Give it to me!"
Vidic heard him and immediately passed the ball forward.
Two Fulham players immediately rushed at Ronaldo.
But he didn't care.
Only one thought filled his mind.
No time left!
If they didn't score now, the title would be gone!
This was his first major chance at a Premier League title since joining Manchester United!
He would not allow anyone to take it from him!
In that instant, memories flashed through his mind—
all the suffering he had endured at United.
He had arrived under the heavy label of Beckham's successor, only to be humiliated.
Everyone mocked his flashy moves, sneered that he had no end product.
His own teammates—Roy Keane, Ruud van Nistelrooy, and countless others, whether openly or secretly…
He didn't even know how many.
But he didn't care anymore!
Last summer at the World Cup, he had become the public enemy of England, but even that didn't matter to him now.
At this moment, he had only one thought, one obsession—
I will win the title!!
Ronaldo, at the intersection of midfield and the left sideline, pulled off a beautiful split-move, beating the first defender and then sprinting after the ball.
Another Fulham midfielder lunged in with a sliding tackle to knock him off course.
But Ronaldo was faster—he poked the ball ahead and accelerated, leaving his marker sliding into nothing but air.
Having beaten two men, he could hear the gasps of astonishment from the stands.
As he surged toward the left edge of Fulham's penalty area, he spotted Fulham's right-back, Rosenior, racing across to close him down.
Far away, Giggs was wide open on the right, waving for the ball.
But Ronaldo had no intention of passing.
At this moment, he only trusted himself!
He had to score this goal himself!
Ronaldo cut into the left side of the box, facing Rosenior.
A few quick feints, and then a sharp outside-foot cut across two defenders.
Before he was even fully through, Ronaldo used his sprinting momentum to unleash a vicious right-footed shot.
He struck it with pure violence.
The force of the shot even carried him off the ground.
The ball flew like a rocket, impossible to track, and smashed into the back of Fulham's net.
"AHHHHH!!!"
Ronaldo roared and sprinted toward the sideline.
The entire stadium was stunned into silence.
United's players went absolutely wild, sprinting toward Ronaldo.
Giggs jumped on Ronaldo's back, roaring with excitement.
Everyone swarmed over him.
Even the players and coaches on the bench exploded from their seats and rushed to the touchline to celebrate.
Ferguson, unable to contain himself, also ran onto the pitch, shouting at the top of his lungs.
Everyone was going crazy.
Those who hadn't lived through it could never truly understand what four years without a league title meant to Manchester United.
They couldn't understand the burden Ronaldo had carried for all these years.
This goal—this scream to the world—was his answer!
It didn't matter if people insulted him, humiliated him, mocked him.
He would become the strongest!
He would leave them all speechless, with nothing left to say!
…
The players eventually returned to the pitch, and the game restarted.
But the scoreboard had changed—from 1–1 to 1–2.
United's players breathed a massive sigh of relief.
When they looked at Ronaldo now, their eyes were filled with newfound respect and recognition.
On the football pitch, strength speaks louder than anything.
Ronaldo's goal at the crucial moment proved his strength!
On the sideline, Ferguson calmed his players down, reminding them to stay focused and not make any mistakes.
Less than two minutes remained.
Fulham desperately launched long balls into United's box.
But Vidic and Ferdinand stood firm.
When time expired, referee Peter Walton blew the final whistle.
In that instant, United's players rushed onto the pitch to celebrate.
It felt as if they had already won the title.
"Carlos, I believe we can go for the title now!"
"All of them!"
Ferguson shouted excitedly at Carlos Queiroz.
Queiroz had watched Ronaldo grow up and had played a major role in his development.
Seeing Ronaldo deliver in such a way filled him with pride.
Hearing Ferguson's words, Queiroz knew—the old master had truly accepted Ronaldo as the team's core.
And surely, the other teammates would feel the same.
This was an eternal truth of football.
To win everyone's recognition, you must show it on the pitch.
Today, Ronaldo had done something no one else—not Rooney, not Giggs, not even Scholes—could do.
He deserved to be the core of this team!
"I think we should give him even more freedom and responsibility," Queiroz suggested.
He thought of what Yang Cheng had once said.
Cristiano Ronaldo was still not at his best.
There was much, much more potential to unlock.
Hearing this, Ferguson clearly thought of Yang Cheng as well.
As Manchester United prepared for an away game in London, Yang Cheng was leading Bayswater China north to face Middlesbrough.
"I wonder how their match is going?"
Now that Ferguson had secured the win, he could smile again.
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