Once all the Morecambe players had gathered around Ibrahimović to celebrate the goal and returned to their half, the referee blew the whistle for the game to resume.
Lincoln City restarted from the center circle. After a brief exchange of passes, they launched a long ball forward.
They were well aware of Morecambe's dominance on the field.
But no matter how strong their opponent was, being outplayed by a team from a lower division still left a bitter taste.
And from that point on, things only got worse.
The longer Lincoln City played, the more disjointed they became. Confidence drained from them like water through a sieve.
Even though they were from a higher division, their mental resilience collapsed far quicker than expected—especially after conceding that first goal.
Then came the 27th minute.
With Lincoln City out of rhythm, Morecambe carved out another golden opportunity—and this time, it was Ronaldinho who shined.
Receiving a short pass near midfield, the young Brazilian glanced up. With no obvious options, he opted to accelerate and drive forward.
Ronaldinho's high-speed dribbling already ranked among Europe's best.
Years later, he would dazzle crowds at the Bernabéu with his legendary solo runs—but even now, before reaching his peak, his flair was unmistakable.
Against League Two opposition, he only needed the right opening.
The two Lincoln midfielders charging toward him were left in the dust. The center-back who stepped up next? Skinned with a quick stepover and burst of pace.
And when the final defender abandoned Ibrahimović to rush Ronaldinho—hoping to draw a foul and stop the break—Ronaldinho unleashed a long-range rocket just outside the penalty area.
Boom!
The strike was clean. The ball screamed toward the bottom right corner of the goal.
He could've passed to Zlatan for a clear one-on-one, but—
Bang!
The shot clipped the inside of the post and bounced in!
It was hit so precisely that the Lincoln keeper didn't even move—frozen as the net rippled.
"Oooooooooh!!"
The Morecambe fans exploded once again, chanting and waving scarves wildly.
Two goals up in the first half—and in utterly dominant fashion.
And what a goal it was—pure artistry.
"Brilliant strike," Juninho muttered on the sideline, clenching his fist in satisfaction.
The Brazilian prodigy who would one day conquer Europe had just shown a glimpse of that future—and Juninho couldn't help but feel smug about signing him for €10 million before the rest of the world woke up.
Over on the Lincoln City bench, their manager sighed, hands on hips.
"Ten million for a midfielder... How do you compete with that?"
He wasn't delusional. It was clear his side were outclassed. The only thing left was to accept reality.
"Even if we wanted to defend better... What are we supposed to do? Bring in defenders from the Champions League?"
He shook his head again. It wasn't worth overthinking.
Back on the pitch, the match resumed. Lincoln's players looked demoralized, barely moving the ball around their own half.
There was no urgency left. No real desire to press or attack.
Why bother when they couldn't even reach the box?
That made it easy for Morecambe to continue their relentless bombardment.
By the 39th minute, Ibrahimović received a pass, spun effortlessly to lose his marker, and blasted a stunning long-range effort.
The Lincoln keeper, finally showing some spirit, made a crucial save.
But just a minute later, Ronaldinho whipped in a vicious corner, and Vidic rose from the back post.
Just wide.
The Lincoln defenders broke into a cold sweat. That one was too close.
But Morecambe weren't done yet.
One minute before halftime, they launched a smooth buildup, patiently shifting the ball across the pitch.
Lincoln's players, legs heavy and spirits low, struggled to keep up with the changing tempo.
Then, like a switch, Morecambe accelerated.
A piercing through-ball split Lincoln's defense.
Fullback Biqi surged up the right and whipped in a low cross.
Boom!
Ibrahimović got to it first, shrugging off his marker and calmly guiding the ball into the net.
3–0.
Morecambe Stadium erupted again. The celebration was deafening.
Even fans outside the stadium could hear the roars and joined in the joy, knowing their side was dominating yet another supposedly superior opponent.
The halftime whistle blew.
Morecambe's players jogged into the tunnel with heads high and a commanding lead.
No one—outside of Juninho and his players—could've imagined Morecambe putting on this kind of performance against a League Two side.
Three goals. Complete control. Total dominance.
Fans in the stands dared to dream.
Could this continue into next season? Could Morecambe make an impact in League Two?
Some even fantasized about two consecutive promotions—reaching League One.
And beyond that?
The Premier League? A dream too distant… too sacred.
But one thing was clear: Morecambe's transformation wasn't a fluke.
This young Brazilian-Chinese owner, Juninho D'Alessandro, had done something extraordinary.
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