Chapter 207: Robin Hood Chelsea, Generous Givers to Liverpool
"It's in—GOAL!!! Li Ang!!! Thirteenth minute of the first half, and Li Ang opens the scoring for Chelsea!
Just three minutes after Mourinho's tactical adjustment, Chelsea reap the reward with their first goal of the match. Mourinho's changes always seem to work magic!"
"Hehe… Chelsea should probably thank Atkinson for his officiating standard today. It's totally unfavorable to Spurs' technical play.
Chelsea just smashed them down the middle and flanks. One towering striker like Ibrahimović, plus Li Ang—Spurs' back line was caught completely off guard."
Jian Jun and Coach Zhang were both clearly excited as they watched Li Ang once again break the deadlock for Chelsea.
For Chelsea fans, seeing their team take the lead at White Hart Lane was a celebration-worthy moment in itself!
White Hart Lane might be a nightmare fortress for other Premier League giants, but for Chelsea? Not quite.
It had been years since Chelsea last tasted defeat at this stadium.
So when Terry pumped up his teammates with unshakable confidence before the game, he had reason to back it up.
And now, as Chelsea players celebrated on the pitch, Terry roared,
"Nothing feels better than scoring at this ground!"
Tottenham fans in the stands couldn't hear exactly what Terry was shouting, but judging by his expression and the way he pumped his fists arrogantly, their fury boiled over. The booing was deafening.
Even though the stadium held under 40,000 fans, it now roared like it had over 50,000 packed in.
But Terry acted like he couldn't hear a thing. He kept encouraging his teammates and fans to cheer louder, feeding off the chaos.
The tension and hostility in the stadium escalated instantly.
Even the new Spurs players, those who had just joined this season, felt the insult deep in their chests.
After all, to humiliate the team was to humiliate them as individuals.
Derby or not, pride demanded they fight back. And fight back they would!
It wasn't good news for Chelsea, but Mourinho and his players didn't care. They expected this.
Matches between Chelsea and Spurs—or Spurs and Arsenal—never lacked confrontation or conflict.
As the game resumed, Li Ang could feel the emotional shift in his "old friends."
Sure, off the pitch they got along, but once the match started, everyone wanted to win. Everyone wanted to be the one standing tall at the final whistle.
Especially when most of them had already lost to Li Ang—some more than once.
So the desire to even the score burned even brighter.
Spurs might not be on Chelsea's level just yet, but the gap wasn't as wide as the one between their former clubs and Real Madrid.
That made the fight feel winnable—and that's when teams push hardest.
From the restart, Spurs were clearly pressing harder—Eriksen and Soldado up front, Paulinho and Vertonghen at the back, all working at maximum intensity.
Even if they couldn't win the ball right away or get a clear chance, their aggression disrupted Chelsea's rhythm.
Li Ang responded by dropping deeper into his own half, swapping positions with Lampard, who stepped up into the attacking midfield role.
The switch was smooth and comfortable—they were both back in their natural spots.
With his stamina, Li Ang paired up with Matic to sweep clean half the pitch in front of Chelsea's defense.
A rattled Eriksen, along with Townsend and Sigurðsson, could only retreat and try to regroup.
Watching Li Ang drop back into a double pivot role had even the neutral Premier League fans buzzing.
A Matic-Li Ang midfield combo? That looked unbreakable.
Whether you played with finesse or brute force, neither approach worked against those two.
Meanwhile, Lampard, conserving his energy, brought order to Chelsea's forward movements with his wealth of experience.
With the one-goal lead in hand, Chelsea slowed things down—they looked like they were braising Spurs over a low flame.
On the touchline, Villas-Boas stroked his chin in frustration.
He understood Mourinho's intentions clearly.
When you're trailing, unless you're willing to take risks and make bold tactical choices, your only hope is to pray for a lucky break.
Mourinho was forcing him to make a decision:
Take the gamble and push forward, risking gaps at the back—or play it safe and hope something falls into place.
After a brief moment of thought, Villas-Boas made his move—no hesitation.
His philosophical split from Mourinho back in the day came down to one thing: he wanted to build attacking teams based on technical play.
He just didn't agree with the Mourinho method anymore.
Later, Guardiola's rise at Barcelona further inspired him to test his own ideas back in the Portuguese league.
And really, who could blame him?
Back then, Guardiola and Barça were the most admired team in the world. Their tiki-taka style swept the globe.
What few foresaw was Mourinho returning with an aging squad—his "revenge army"—and dethroning Barcelona to reclaim European glory.
As Mourinho forged his legacy at Real Madrid, Villas-Boas was suffering through his failed Chelsea rebuild, ultimately shown the door in frustration.
Since then, he'd come a long way in reflection and growth.
He apologized to Mourinho and came to understand the tactical path he truly believed in.
Technique and passion.
That was his identity.
So when he stood at the edge of his technical area and signaled for a full-on offensive press, the White Hart Lane crowd erupted in passion.
No matter how much ridicule they faced from other clubs in London, no matter how many doubters they had across the league—
The attacking bloodline of Tottenham Hotspur would not be denied!
Mourinho smiled.
Even if it wasn't the answer he preferred, he was glad to see his former pupil walking his own path.
And Spurs' full-press attack wasn't to be taken lightly.
Even if Soldado was still adapting to the pace of the Premier League, his clever runs created space for others.
With enough of the ball and attacking chances, Eriksen began to shine in the No. 10 role.
But the next goal still didn't come from Spurs.
It was Chelsea, now fully embracing the counterattack, who struck again!
With Li Ang and Matic sweeping up everything in midfield, Spurs had almost no success breaking into the half-spaces or channels.
And with Li Ang, Lampard, and Matic all capable of delivering pinpoint long balls, the big man up top—Ibrahimović—became a looming nightmare for Spurs' defense.
Today, Mourinho had essentially repurposed Allegri's old AC Milan playbook to perfection.
No need to counter via the flanks. Just get the ball to Zlatan, let him hold it up, and build everything around him.
Zlatan wasn't selfish outside the box. He had the vision and passing range to orchestrate from deep.
As long as Hazard and Ramires timed their runs, Zlatan would always find the perfect through ball.
Neither Paulinho nor Dembélé could stop him one-on-one. They just didn't have the tools to disrupt his touch and distribution.
Chelsea's counterattacks became more efficient and direct with each wave.
In the 37th minute of the first half, Zlatan Ibrahimović shielded the ball expertly before distributing it wide to the overlapping Eden Hazard.
While Li Ang and Ramires made decoy runs into the box, it was Frank Lampard who snuck into the danger zone and delivered the lethal blow.
Hazard's low cross was met with a cool finish from Lampard, who slotted it home with a smooth push shot, doubling Chelsea's lead.
But the real drama was just beginning.
Barely three minutes after Chelsea finished celebrating, Spurs hit back—Christian Eriksen curled in a stunning free kick of the highest quality that left Petr Čech with absolutely no chance.
The Dane's strike was so precise it looked like it had been drawn with a compass, and suddenly, the momentum swung.
Spurs, who had seemed flat and deflated, were revitalized by Eriksen's brilliance.
As the half drew to a close, the mood in the stadium turned electric. The tension was palpable. Chelsea and Spurs fans rode a rollercoaster of emotions, while neutral viewers couldn't have asked for more entertainment.
On the sideline, Villas-Boas slapped the roof of the substitutes' bench in delight, applauding Eriksen's perfect execution.
Mourinho, on the other hand, furrowed his brow. He gestured to his players to drop back and regroup. His message was clear: preserve the lead until halftime.
As always, this conservative response drew criticism from many neutral fans.
But on the Spurs bench, Villas-Boas was relatively satisfied. His team had ended the half with momentum on their side.
Back in the dressing room, Villas-Boas made a swift tactical decision.
He figured Mourinho would tighten up the midfield in the second half and continue to rely on counterattacks to preserve the lead.
So he responded first—subbing on Erik Lamela for an underwhelming Andros Townsend.
The goal? Reinforce the right flank and begin the second half with aggression.
What no one expected—not Villas-Boas, not the fans—was that Mourinho also made changes before the second half kicked off.
Two substitutions at once.
Ryan Bertrand came on for Ashley Cole, and Kevin De Bruyne replaced Ramires.
The message was clear: Mourinho wasn't going to bunker down—he was ready to go blow for blow with Spurs.
So just as Spurs were gearing up to overwhelm Chelsea's flanks, Chelsea fired back with their own full-scale push.
Bertrand and De Bruyne, fresh and aggressive, charged down the left and right flanks respectively.
With Li Ang now pushed up—practically playing as a second striker after swapping again with Lampard—Chelsea launched a three-line offensive wave.
Defensive duties were handed off to Matic and the still-active Lampard.
To prevent fatigue from catching up with the veteran midfielder, Mourinho had already sent Essien to warm up.
Chelsea's bold, aggressive response completely caught Spurs off guard.
With Soldado having little impact and posing no real threat to Chelsea's back line, Spurs' offense began to sputter.
It wasn't that they couldn't build up play—they just couldn't finish.
Had they still had Bale or Adebayor leading the line, Mourinho might've been more cautious. He wouldn't have gone head-to-head like this.
But instead, Spurs had spent £30 million in the summer on Soldado—who clearly wasn't adjusting to the Premier League.
Sure, the Spaniard had talent, but in England's fast, physical league, his finesse style was getting eaten alive.
Mourinho couldn't help but shake his head.
Thirty million?
For that kind of money, they could've bought Christian Benteke straight from Aston Villa—already Premier League-proven.
In his debut Premier League season, the young Belgian had scored 23 goals and notched 6 assists. Nineteen goals in the league alone.
Mourinho was tempted to chase Benteke himself if not for landing Ibrahimović from PSG.
Soldado was good—but physically, he just didn't belong in this league.
Still, Mourinho signaled his players to keep pushing and finish Spurs off early.
Villas-Boas could only watch helplessly.
Despite having similar attacking intent and creating chances, Spurs repeatedly squandered them.
Meanwhile, Chelsea's attackers kept forcing Hugo Lloris into difficult saves.
It was a tough situation. Villas-Boas didn't dare alter his tactics again—another tweak might break his players' fragile confidence.
Frustrated, he scanned the bench and eventually called over two options: a still-slender Harry Kane and the aging Jermain Defoe.
With Adebayor injured and out for at least three more months, they were his only alternative center forwards.
And by the time Zlatan scored Chelsea's third goal, Villas-Boas had no choice but to bring them both on—replacing Sigurðsson and Soldado.
Defoe, despite being sidelined from long-term plans, came on and used his rich experience in the box to immediately pull one back for Spurs.
Just as Villas-Boas began to hope for an equalizer and rallied his players for one last push—
Li Ang struck again.
In the 78th minute, he tracked back and cleanly dispossessed Harry Kane before turning and sprinting 40 meters in a brilliant counterattack.
With Eriksen chasing him desperately, Li Ang timed it perfectly—as Michael Dawson stepped up, Li Ang split the defense with a laser-guided through ball.
De Bruyne, surging into the box unmarked, feinted with his eyes, wrong-footed Lloris, and calmly slotted it into the near post.
The ball crossed the line—4–2. Game over.
De Bruyne ripped off his shirt in celebration and sprinted toward Mourinho at full speed.
On the other end of the pitch, Jan Vertonghen had just made it back to his own penalty box—only to collapse to the turf, legs gone.
Can you blame him?
With both of Spurs' holding midfielders bombing forward like strikers, he'd been dragged upfield too, forced to act as a deep-lying playmaker.
Now his tank was empty.
Villas-Boas could only give a bitter smile and shake his head.
They'd bought the wrong striker in the transfer window. Couldn't finish—no matter how many chances they created.
And so, Tottenham's brave but toothless fight ended in defeat—4–2 on home turf.
Chelsea's entire squad erupted in celebration.
But winning such a bruising battle through aggressive pressing and attack had its cost—especially for a veteran-heavy squad like Chelsea.
Three days later, in the Champions League, Chelsea traveled to Romania and needed every ounce of effort to grind out a 2–0 win over the ultra-defensive Steaua Bucharest.
And just three days after that, at Carrow Road, they were held to a 1–1 draw by Norwich.
As they looked at the scoreboard and watched Norwich fans erupt in joy, Chelsea's players could only shake their heads with weary smiles.
Meanwhile, word spread quickly across England—Liverpool had lost at home to Southampton in a stunning upset.
Suddenly, fans of both sides found common ground.
Indeed—Robin Hood Liverpool, robbing the rich.
And generous Chelsea—giving gifts to the poor.
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