Chapter 134: The Foundation of a Dynasty! Blood Battle at Old Trafford
If he were to write an autobiography, Marcelo genuinely wouldn't know where to begin.
Was it the summer camp when he was six?
Or the graffiti he painted on the streets with his friends before the 1994 World Cup?
Maybe it was that time when he was nine and first felt like he was Ronaldo?
But perhaps—it should begin when he was 15, invited into Fluminense's youth setup, with his grandfather's orange Volkswagen Beetle.
In Brazilian football, turning 18 was a huge milestone.
It meant you could leave the country and start earning abroad.
Every year, European clubs sent scouts all over Brazil.
Everyone knew how talented Brazilian players were, so they liked to buy 18-year-olds—a little like gambling.
Eighteen-year-olds were unfinished products. If a club could mold them properly in Europe, they'd flip them for a much higher price to a bigger club.
If they failed, they'd be shipped back to Brazil on the cheap.
It had become an entire industrial pipeline.
When Marcelo turned 18, plenty of European teams were already circling.
CSKA Moscow from the Russian Premier League was one of them.
Russian and Ukrainian clubs had taken a liking to Brazilians in recent years—players didn't feel as lonely over there, with so many of their countrymen around.
Then there was Sevilla from La Liga.
That club had gathered a sizeable Brazilian contingent and was known for nurturing them well. They'd developed rapidly.
When Marcelo started talking with Sevilla, he was genuinely tempted. He even asked around to learn more about the club.
But for reasons he still couldn't explain, he ended up choosing London.
Fluminense quickly accepted Bayswater Chinese's offer and then informed Marcelo and his agent.
The next day, Marcelo and his agent went to meet with Bayswater Chinese's representative—Mike Rigg—and had a phone call with head coach Yang Cheng.
The call wasn't long, maybe ten minutes.
But Yang Cheng spoke fluent Portuguese, and their conversation flowed easily. Marcelo instantly felt good about him.
He began looking forward to his Premier League journey.
The day after the call, he received a phone call from England.
A relocation officer from Bayswater Chinese asked him questions: Did he have a girlfriend? Who would he be living with? What kind of place would they need?
In just a few days, Marcelo's transfer was finalized.
From the warmth of Brazil, he landed in cold, grey England.
But truthfully, the weather wasn't the issue—for him or his girlfriend.
The club put them up in a very comfortable hotel in London and found them a cozy house.
Everything was arranged perfectly.
Marcelo clearly remembered meeting Yang Cheng on his very first day at Bayswater Chinese.
They talked for over half an hour.
Just like over the phone, Yang Cheng left a great impression.
Young, easy to talk to, and somehow, it felt like he already knew Marcelo inside and out.
That made Marcelo feel safe.
Yang Cheng then brought in José Fonte.
A Portuguese teammate—and the club's vice-captain.
Fonte helped him settle in, introduced him to everyone, and handed him his number.
"If you ever need anything, anything at all, just call me."
Marcelo never forgot those words.
There were language barriers, sure, but the locker room atmosphere was great. Everyone was willing to help.
He settled in quickly.
He started studying English seriously and made every effort to integrate into the team.
But for Marcelo, everything had happened too fast.
From leaving Fluminense to arriving in England, he hadn't even had time to adjust before he was thrown into preseason, followed by the Asia tour, then right into the Premier League, Champions League, League Cup, and FA Cup…
The Premier League's schedule was relentless. Every week there were matches, non-stop.
In his first season, his agent warned him he might be loaned out.
After all, he hadn't played for the senior national team—only Brazil's U17s and U20s.
What they didn't expect was that Bayswater Chinese had used their Special Talent Clause on him.
Apparently, each Premier League club could only use it once per season.
That showed just how valuable that slot was.
His first year was about learning, adapting, getting used to the differences.
The style of football in England was completely different from Brazil.
Everything moved so fast.
Every time he got the ball, before he could even prepare, a defender was already in his face.
And Marcelo—like many Brazilians—loved having the ball at his feet.
He worked hard to adapt to the Premier League.
This season, after Danny Collins left, the left-back position came down to just Leighton Baines and him.
He got more minutes, more responsibilities.
His earlier fears about not getting playing time were gone.
But in their place came another worry—his performance wasn't meeting expectations.
The understanding of football, and of full-backs, was vastly different between Brazil and England.
Back home, he focused almost entirely on attacking.
Losing the ball or conceding goals was no big deal—no one even thought twice about it.
But in England? That didn't fly.
More and more people were calling out his defensive shortcomings. The media sharpened their knives.
At first, his coach and teammates encouraged him.
Especially Yang Cheng.
He constantly reassured him: "You must believe in yourself—and believe in me."
The coaching staff went out of their way to help.
In training, they introduced specific drills just for him. On the pitch, teammates like Fonte, Yaya Touré, and Thiago Silva constantly reminded him, urged him to stay alert.
Assistant coach Brian Kidd was kind to most—but not Marcelo.
He allowed Marcelo to push forward, sure—but only if he sprinted back every time the ball was lost.
Do that? And you could attack however you wanted.
Fail to do it? Kidd's yelling was coming for you.
After every session and match, Brian Kidd would go through all of Marcelo's mistakes—telling him what he did wrong, where he was careless, where he was flat-out stupid.
Marcelo feared Kidd's sternness—but more than that, he was grateful.
It made him better.
He learned quickly.
But like many Brazilians, Marcelo often found European tactics bizarre, even incomprehensible.
He couldn't quite explain the feeling.
He knew what was expected of him. He tried his hardest.
But things never seemed to go right.
It was like every time he had a poor game, people would say, "Ignore the noise. Don't pay attention to the media."
But how could he not?
Even reporters back in Brazil asked him if playing in the Premier League was really that awful.
They weren't wrong.
Most Brazilians didn't like the Premier League.
Up to this point, successful Brazilians in England could be counted on one hand.
That thought haunted Marcelo.
He began to wonder if he would be the next Brazilian to fail in the Premier League.
He tried desperately to do everything right, to play every game well.
But sometimes, the harder he tried, the worse it got.
Just like the match against Spurs.
Especially that last penalty.
He cost the team three points.
He cost them a chance to go top of the table.
He might have cost the team not just three points—but their chance at winning the league title.
The thought tore Marcelo apart. It made him question himself even more.
After the match, he couldn't help but wonder—would his teammates begin to isolate him?
And then, on New Year's Day, he wasn't even included in the matchday squad.
That sent his anxiety spiraling.
The match was in the afternoon. Afterward, it was evening.
Yang Cheng invited the entire team out for a meal.
After dinner, Marcelo waited for him—caught him just as the coach was about to leave with his girlfriend for a date.
Yang Cheng had told them before: If there's anything, anytime, just come find me.
...
They stood together on the rooftop of the Lancaster Royal Hotel, looking west toward Bayswater Stadium.
That part of the city was now shrouded in darkness.
"You have two problems right now," Yang Cheng said.
He had been incredibly busy over the past few days—running on fumes with barely a moment to himself. Tonight, he'd planned to take Xia Qing shopping in Knightsbridge before getting some much-needed sleep.
So he didn't want to drag things out with Marcelo.
"One: you've lost confidence."
Marcelo looked up at his coach, shocked.
It felt like Yang Cheng could see straight into his heart—like he already knew every fear, every doubt swirling inside him.
"Two: you lack experience and real match practice. You haven't found the balance yet between attacking and defending—between what you learned in Brazil and what's required in the Premier League."
Marcelo was floored.
He didn't know how Yang Cheng did it.
The coach was only 28 years old—yet it felt like nothing escaped him.
"These sound like two problems, but really, it's just one."
Confidence? It comes with time and matches.
Experience? Same thing.
"From the moment I signed you, I already knew exactly what kind of player you are, what you're capable of. But it feels like you're doubting me—and worse, doubting yourself."
Marcelo didn't know what to say.
Because Yang Cheng was right.
"To be honest, there are only two ways to deal with this," Yang Cheng continued.
"One, I loan you out. Right now, during the winter window. I'll help you find a club where there's less pressure, less media scrutiny. You go there for a year or two, develop, play regularly, and when you're ready—I'll bring you back."
"Two, you stay here. Keep playing, keep training, keep working. I'll try to give you more minutes. You'll gain experience. You'll build your confidence. And things will get better."
What Marcelo felt in that moment was overwhelming trust and support.
This was only the second professional club he'd ever played for.
But not even at Fluminense had he felt anything like the faith Yang Cheng was showing him now.
He was genuinely moved.
For the first time, he felt an intense desire to fight for his coach—to give everything on the pitch for Yang Cheng.
"I don't want to leave," Marcelo said firmly.
He was never someone who gave up easily.
More than anything, he was afraid that if he left—he might never come back.
"Then stay," Yang Cheng said gently. "Train hard. Play hard. Improve. Brazilians are often criticized for their lack of tactical discipline—but that's all the more reason for you to learn more, understand more. No one is born knowing everything."
"Also, Brazilians hate physical contact. They hate gym work. I'm not saying you have to turn into a bodybuilder—but you do need to be able to hold your own out there. At the very least, don't let yourself get bullied."
Marcelo nodded rapidly.
"We'll all help you. But it'll take time—maybe a year, maybe two, maybe three."
"I believe in you. So don't give up."
Marcelo listened intently, nodding again and again, feeling deeply moved by every word.
...
"You really care about him, huh?"
After Marcelo left, Xia Qing approached Yang Cheng, curiosity written all over her face.
The media had been relentless in their criticism of Marcelo.
After the 4–4 draw at White Hart Lane, he was practically crucified by the press.
Yang Cheng smiled faintly, leaned against the railing, and reached out to pull her closer.
"He'll become the best left-back in the world. No one else comes close."
Xia Qing was taken aback.
She hadn't expected Yang Cheng to rate him that highly.
"I remember you said Maicon would be the best right-back in the world. So now…"
Yang Cheng chuckled. "Maicon was born in '81. Marcelo's a '88. That's a seven-year difference."
Their peak years wouldn't even overlap.
Why did Yang Cheng rate Marcelo so highly?
Beyond being a world-class left-back in the making, the answer also involved Toni Kroos.
Marcelo was, quite simply, an exceptional full-back.
Very, very different from the norm.
Especially in attack.
European full-backs tended to focus on crosses—whether early or from the byline. That was their bread and butter.
But very few of them could beat a man 1v1.
Take Ashley Cole, for example—renowned for his attacking ability. Small in stature, technically sound.
His overall pass completion rate was over 85%, and over 95% from the defensive third.
But his dribbling stats? Practically nonexistent. He still relied on crosses.
Leighton Baines? Averaged 0.6 dribbles per game. Lower pass accuracy than Cole—80% overall, around 90% from the back.
And cross success rate? Just 25%.
In today's game, wide crosses simply weren't that effective.
Even Maicon—one of the most developed right-backs—hovered around the same numbers.
His long passes from the right flank were accurate, hitting 60%, but in terms of 1v1s, he averaged about 1.5 successful dribbles per game.
Still better than most.
In fact, elite European full-backs like Lahm averaged only about 1 successful dribble per match.
Passing remained the main focus—crosses and long balls.
This style dominated until a new generation arrived nearly a decade later: Trent Alexander-Arnold and Theo Hernández.
The footballing landscape shifted, and with it, the demands on full-backs.
Hernández rarely crossed. He relied on long balls and build-up play.
Arnold, molded by Liverpool's tactical setup, retained that crossing ability—and was excellent at long passes too.
In short, Arnold was like a right-sided Ashley Cole.
But with less precision. At least 10% lower pass completion.
That was the standard in Europe.
So why were Brazilian full-backs so different?
Because they dared to dribble.
Unlike their European counterparts—Cole, Lahm, whoever—they weren't afraid to take defenders on down the flank.
Theo Hernández was one of the few European full-backs with that same ability.
Even Maicon had over 1.5 dribbles per game—an elite number among European wing players.
Marcelo and Dani Alves?
Even more dangerous.
Both had incredibly delicate footwork—but Marcelo's first touch and passing were even better than Alves'.
Most Remarkable of All Was Marcelo's Strong Right Foot
It gave him the versatility to attack down the flank and, once reaching the final third, choose between crossing, cutting inside diagonally, or shifting laterally.
If you watch Marcelo closely, you'll often see him drifting between the touchline and the half-space. His positioning often resembles a hybrid of wide defensive midfielder or even wide attacking midfielder.
Statistically, he delivers a high number of through balls.
In their prime, Maicon and Dani Alves played much the same way.
Whether it was crossing from wide areas, dribbling past defenders, or threading passes between the lines, they could do it all with ease.
This was the biggest difference between Brazilian full-backs and their European counterparts.
Even Theo Hernández, one of Europe's better 1v1 full-backs, rarely attempts through balls behind the defense—almost never, in fact.
In a way, this kind of wide midfield playmaker role evolved from the style pioneered by Brazilian full-backs.
And only Brazilian full-backs have been able to fully maximize its potential.
In Yang Cheng's past life, players like Maicon at Inter, Alves at Sevilla and Barcelona, and Marcelo at Real Madrid were all elite examples of this "wide playmaker" archetype.
Even Rafael da Silva at Manchester United once showed flashes of this style. His dribbling was excellent down the wing, but eventually, United and Ferguson began to mold him into a more traditional, "continental" full-back.
That trend showed clearly in Rafael's stats over time.
Another player worth mentioning here is Łukasz Piszczek.
Originally a striker, the Polish international had blistering pace, sharp technique, and great dribbling on the flank.
But in Yang Cheng's past life, two serious hip surgeries—the infamous "butt injuries"—derailed him completely.
In the 2008/09 season, while at Hertha Berlin, he missed eight months due to injury.
Again in 2012/13, at Dortmund, he was sidelined for over half a year.
After that, his pace and dribbling vanished.
He had to completely change his style of play, and the injuries kept coming.
But in the current reality, under Bayswater Chinese, Piszczek was still healthy and playing well.
It was just that Maicon had been performing at such a high level that the 22-year-old Pole hadn't yet earned a regular starting role.
...
In Yang Cheng's previous life, everyone praised Real Madrid's legendary midfield trio.
But most fans overlooked Marcelo's tactical role.
The Brazilian's dazzling footwork and fearless dribbling made him a terror down the left side.
More importantly, his short-passing interplay with Toni Kroos on the left midfield flank, combined with Cristiano Ronaldo ahead, created an overload that no team could afford to ignore.
Which forced defensive shapes to shift.
That's when Kroos's long diagonal switches became lethal.
And once the ball was shifted to the right side, Modrić and Carvajal would draw defenders in again.
Then Ronaldo would drift centrally, dragging markers with him, leaving Marcelo completely unmarked on the left.
Modrić and Carvajal would rotate the ball back across.
In those scenarios, Marcelo's 1v1 ability shone brightest.
In Yang Cheng's current Bayswater Chinese team, the setup was even better than Real Madrid's—mainly because Carvajal's dribbling threat was limited.
Real's full-backs averaged around 0.6 successful dribbles per match—on par with Ashley Cole, Alexander-Arnold, and the like.
But Piszczek?
At Bayswater Chinese, still healthy, he averaged over 1.5 dribbles per game—similar to Maicon.
That's a huge difference.
It made Bayswater Chinese's offense even more fearsome.
Both flanks became dangerous.
If peak Barcelona had Alves and Messi on the right, and peak Real Madrid had Marcelo and Ronaldo on the left—then this Bayswater Chinese squad had threats on both flanks.
In that kind of matchup, it was anyone's game.
With Modrić and Toni Kroos in midfield, and Marcelo and Piszczek bombing down the wings, Yang Cheng genuinely believed his team could go toe-to-toe with prime Barcelona or Ronaldo-era Real Madrid.
Because, frankly, there was no other choice.
They didn't have a transcendent superstar like Messi or Ronaldo.
So they had to win through collective strength.
But Yang Cheng was convinced: this would be the foundation of a Premier League dynasty.
That's also why he'd been waiting so patiently for Toni Kroos.
...
The Premier League's infamous Christmas schedule was brutal.
And right after the holiday gauntlet came the FA Cup.
Many clubs, especially the big ones, used the FA Cup third round as an opportunity to rest their stars—some even giving them vacation.
Yang Cheng had given Arshavin time off last season—and did so again this year.
Because after the FA Cup third round came the League Cup semifinals.
But Bayswater Chinese were already knocked out of that tournament—so no scheduling pressure there.
Which meant that after playing Round 21 of the Premier League on January 1, many of the first-team regulars could get about ten days of rest.
Yang Cheng granted his key players three full days off to relax and spend time with family.
On the afternoon of January 5, in the FA Cup third round, Bayswater Chinese drew a rather "interesting" opponent:
Queens Park Rangers.
No conspiracy here—pure coincidence.
Even more of a coincidence? Bayswater Chinese had drawn home advantage.
Given their past ties, Bayswater Chinese showed great generosity.
Adam Crozier proposed that both clubs sell their own tickets and keep the revenue.
After all, Wembley was massive. No way it would sell out.
Each club sold their own tickets, and profits stayed with the seller.
Crozier even admitted privately to Yang Cheng that he hoped to poach a few QPR fans in the process.
In the end, over 70,000 fans showed up—more than 20,000 of them were QPR supporters.
A testament to the West London club's legacy.
Even after bleeding fans to Bayswater Chinese, they still rallied that many supporters to Wembley.
Yang Cheng had to admit he was impressed—and also gave Crozier a friendly scolding.
"Still not magnetic enough!"
For the match, Yang Cheng fielded an entirely rotated and youthful squad.
Goalkeeper: Begović
Defense: Marcelo, Thiago Silva, Koscielny, Piszczek
Midfield: Matić (holding), Rakitić, Aaron Ramsey
Attack: Gareth Bale, Lewandowski, Walcott
Originally, Matuidi was slated to start—but the Frenchman picked up an injury in training.
No choice but to push Rakitić forward.
The lineup was young, but far from weak.
From kickoff, the midfield trio of Matić, Rakitić, and Ramsey showed excellent passing and ball control.
All three had outstanding technique.
QPR tried to press aggressively early on—but it was like throwing punches into a pillow.
Once Bayswater Chinese settled into their rhythm and controlled possession, they began to apply real pressure starting from the 15th minute.
21st Minute: Walcott Broke Through on the Right, Passed Low to the Near Post, and Lewandowski Slotted It In
1–0!
Then in the 29th minute, Gareth Bale delivered a beautiful ball from the left. Lewandowski controlled it near the edge of the box, feinted past a defender, and blasted it past Lee Camp.
2–0!
The continuous attacking overwhelmed Queens Park Rangers, especially down the flanks.
Marcelo and Piszczek were relentless on both wings.
The gap in quality between the two sides was simply too big.
Bayswater Chinese's defense was under no pressure, allowing both full-backs to push high without fear of counters.
QPR were left nervously scrambling.
Before the first half ended, Rakitić added to the damage with a long-range strike.
3–0!
In the second half, Bale curled in a stunning free-kick from over 35 meters out.
Then former Bayswater Chinese midfielder Martin Rowlands fired one back with a long shot, but Begović comfortably caught it.
In the 58th minute, Aaron Ramsey picked up the ball on the right, cut between two defenders, and slid a precise pass into the box.
Lewandowski smashed it home from the right side of the six-yard box.
5–0!
A hat-trick for the Polish striker!
After that, Bayswater Chinese eased off—they shared a stadium with QPR in the past, and both clubs were from West London.
But the home side still created several more dangerous chances.
Final score: Bayswater Chinese 5–0 QPR.
Yang Cheng didn't make much of the result.
QPR's manager was Luigi De Canio, an Italian who had coached several Serie A clubs.
Yang Cheng wasn't familiar with him—just shook his hand politely.
But Martin Rowlands came over after the match and shook hands too.
When he saw Koscielny and Lambert, his face visibly tensed.
Funny enough, Rowlands had done reasonably well in his first season after leaving Bayswater Chinese.
He had a higher salary, and although watching his former team get promoted to the Premier League stung, money helped ease that pain.
But as Bayswater Chinese continued to improve—winning the Premier League last season—it gnawed at him more and more.
Since July 2004, he hadn't been called up to the Irish national team again.
Years had passed, and he watched his old midfield partner Luka Modrić—who back then wasn't as good as him—become the captain and midfield engine of one of the best teams in England.
Even Lambert, once his backup, had become a recognizable name.
Koscielny wasn't even a starter, yet he had built a solid reputation.
Meanwhile, Rowlands remained a starter at QPR, but his performances had been in steady decline.
Now QPR were flirting with the Championship relegation zone.
Rowlands had finally realized something:
His success at Bayswater Chinese wasn't because he was that good.
It was because he fit Yang Cheng's system—and that system made the most of his specific skill set.
Once he left, it was like a bird without wings. He could still run on the ground—but he'd never fly again.
"If I hadn't left back then… maybe everything would've been different."
That's what Rowlands said as he walked away.
Yang Cheng smiled the whole time, but deep down, he didn't agree.
Different? Maybe.
If Rowlands found a team that suited his style, he might still be a serviceable backup at a mid-table Premier League club.
But as a starter? Unlikely.
More importantly, within Bayswater Chinese's three-man midfield, there was no place for him.
So, the outcome probably would've been the same.
...
January 12 — Premier League Round 22.
Chelsea kicked things off by beating Spurs 2–0 at Stamford Bridge.
Arsenal were held 1–1 at home by Birmingham—a minor upset.
Birmingham were in a relegation battle. For Arsenal to drop points at home was a real embarrassment.
Liverpool also slipped, drawing 1–1 away at Middlesbrough.
Manchester United crushed Newcastle 6–0 at Old Trafford, thanks to a Ronaldo hat-trick and a Tévez brace.
Ferguson's United were, as always, entering their deadly winter form.
With both Arsenal and Liverpool dropping points, United's blowout win was a huge boost.
Bayswater Chinese faced Aston Villa away.
Martin O'Neill's team had strengthened over the last two seasons and was a solid side.
Their squad included Premier League veterans like Gareth Barry, Carew, Agbonlahor, Petrov, Bouma, and Reo-Coker.
Carew and Agbonlahor's classic "tall and fast" combo was a nightmare for most defenses.
Bayswater Chinese fielded their full-strength squad, but Yaya Touré was away on international duty at the Africa Cup of Nations.
So Yang Cheng started Matuidi, with Lass Diarra anchoring the midfield alone.
They opened with an attacking mindset but couldn't find the net early.
In the 14th minute, Carew laid the ball off to Gareth Barry, who slotted it in from just outside the box.
1–0!
But just nine minutes later, Bayswater Chinese responded.
Maicon and Arshavin combined on the right with a quick one-two, and the Brazilian whipped in a cross.
Džeko nodded it down into the path of the onrushing Modrić, who played a square pass to Matuidi.
The Frenchman smashed it left-footed from near the penalty spot.
1–1!
Bayswater Chinese ramped up the pressure.
Matuidi even rattled the post with a long-range strike.
Then in the 36th minute, another pinpoint cross from Maicon found Džeko, who outjumped two defenders and headed it home from close range.
2–1!
No goals in the second half.
Final score held until the end.
...
January 19 — Wembley Stadium, London.
Premier League Round 23: Bayswater Chinese vs. Manchester United.
A top-of-the-table clash watched by the world.
Both sides were aiming for the title, and the gap between them was just one point.
Since Yang Cheng took charge, Bayswater Chinese hadn't lost a home match.
But they had a problem—midfield general Yaya Touré was still away at the Africa Cup of Nations.
Last match, Yang Cheng used Matuidi and Lass Diarra, but it didn't work well.
So this time, he made a bold move: starting Nemanja Matić.
It was a gutsy decision that revealed Yang Cheng's mindset.
If defending couldn't hold up—then go on the attack!
Ferguson needed to escape Wembley unscathed to protect his lead at the top.
And United had just smashed Newcastle 6–0.
They were flying high.
Ferguson Had Grand Ambitions—He Wanted to Crush Bayswater Chinese at Wembley
He wanted to use Manchester United's signature attacking football to overwhelm the opponent.
Not only to widen the gap at the top of the table but also to break Bayswater Chinese's spirit.
For that reason, from the first whistle, the two teams delivered an open, high-tempo match for the 75,000 fans at Wembley.
Just 42 seconds in, Cristiano Ronaldo linked up with Tévez and Rooney in a slick passing sequence, breaking through to the edge of the box and taking the game's first shot.
Ferguson's idea was simple: take the fight to Bayswater Chinese—don't let them dictate the tempo.
But in the 9th minute, Wes Brown was caught in possession at the back by Di María, who pressed aggressively and stole the ball.
The Argentine surged diagonally into the left side of the penalty area and fired a fierce shot. Van der Sar parried it away—
—but Džeko was there, muscling past Vidic to stab in the rebound.
1–0!
Wembley erupted!
Veteran fans knew immediately: with such an open game and an early goal, this was going to be a high-scoring battle.
United launched waves of attacks—especially their front three, who were menacing throughout.
But Bayswater Chinese were just as fearless.
Even without Yaya Touré, their midfield circulation remained smooth.
In the 20th minute, United broke quickly.
Tévez held the ball up and played a perfectly timed through ball.
Rooney sprinted in, one-on-one with Neuer.
He calmly rounded the keeper and tapped it into the empty net.
1–1!
But Bayswater Chinese struck back just as fast.
First, Modrić curled a shot from outside the box that Van der Sar saved brilliantly.
Then Džeko fired from a tight angle on the right side of the six-yard box, but Vidic blocked it out for a corner.
The resulting corner was cleared.
In the 28th minute, Baines stepped up for a free kick just outside the box and hit it just over the top-right corner—clipping the bar before going out.
Three minutes later, Džeko, under pressure from both Ferdinand and Vidic, launched a speculative shot from 35 meters.
It struck the post and bounced out—so close!
United's goal was under siege, but so was Bayswater Chinese's.
The difference was that Rooney, Ronaldo, and Tévez just weren't in rhythm.
Yang Cheng assigned Lass Diarra to man-mark Ronaldo.
The Portuguese star seemed to have a mental block against Diarra—taking multiple shots, but all were wild and off-target.
Then in first-half stoppage time, Maicon made a run down the right, played in by Arshavin.
He broke into the box and squared the ball across the face of goal—
—and Di María arrived at the back post to poke it home with his left foot.
2–1!
...
After the break, United equalized in the 57th minute.
Despite pressure from Matić, Rooney managed to feed Ronaldo, who darted into the right side of the box and whipped in a low cross.
Tévez threw himself at it, sliding in with the ball to smash it past Neuer.
2–2!
United immediately changed tactics.
Ferguson brought on Fletcher for Tévez and switched to a 4-3-1-2 formation.
Rooney and Ronaldo up front.
Fletcher, Carrick, and Hargreaves anchored the midfield, with Scholes just ahead of them.
Yang Cheng saw the tactical shift—but he wanted to roll the dice.
Bayswater Chinese trailed United by one point. They had to win to overtake them in the standings.
Especially at home.
So Yang Cheng ordered his team to keep pressing forward.
United's penalty area came under constant fire.
Bayswater Chinese fired shot after shot.
Van der Sar became the busiest man on the pitch.
In the 65th and 67th minutes, they came inches from scoring.
First, Maicon's cross from the right was met by Džeko with a powerful volley—but Van der Sar made a miraculous save.
Bayswater Chinese kept pushing.
In the 67th minute, Vidic completely misjudged a high ball—a rare error for United's backline.
Yes, United had a real issue defending aerial balls this season.
Despite the presence of Ferdinand, Vidic, and Wes Brown—great in the air—concentration lapses kept happening.
Vidic's mistimed header was another example.
Arshavin pounced, charging into the box and reaching the penalty spot.
Van der Sar came flying out and snatched the ball right before Arshavin could shoot.
They collided hard.
But the Dutchman held onto the ball.
A minute later, Bayswater Chinese forced Ferdinand into a foul—and he picked up a yellow card.
Another crack in United's defensive wall.
Just as Bayswater Chinese looked poised to break through, disaster struck in the 77th minute.
Fletcher blocked an attack and found Scholes, who delivered a deadly through ball.
Cristiano Ronaldo burst forward at blistering pace.
Facing both Pepe and Thiago Silva, he bulldozed through, cutting into the right side of the penalty area and burying his shot.
3–2!
United dropped deep.
Ferguson subbed off Scholes for Giggs and switched to full counterattack mode.
But Bayswater Chinese kept throwing everything forward.
This was the match that could decide the title.
The home unbeaten streak on the line.
The roar of 75,000 fans behind them.
Bayswater Chinese went all in.
By the 86th minute, they were attacking with reckless abandon.
In the 88th minute, Rooney slipped a pass through to Ronaldo, who burst into the box one-on-one again.
But Neuer rushed out like a madman, diving in at Ronaldo's feet near the penalty spot and stealing the ball.
Then, as Rooney chased the rebound, Neuer charged out of the box and hoofed it clear.
The German keeper's fearless display sparked renewed fire in his teammates.
Finally, in the 92nd minute, Arshavin received a pass from Džeko at the edge of the box on the left.
He muscled past Fletcher and curled a stunning shot with his right foot.
The ball bent around, clipped the inside of the right post—
—and crashed into the net!
Wembley exploded!
3–3!
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