Inside the locker room.
The players were the same, but their attitudes had shifted drastically.
Manchester United's full-back, Ashley Young, was wearing the captain's armband for this match. With the veterans not on the pitch, Young, an England international, took on the leadership role.
He welcomed Alessandro warmly.
"Come in, sandro!"
He walked into the dressing room with an arm around the young midfielder's shoulders.
As they entered, the rest of the team stood up and applauded. Someone even whistled excitedly.
It was the welcome of a hero—the man who saved the first half.
Truth be told, the only reason United went into halftime with a 1–0 lead was Alessandro.
His goal was only part of it.
What truly mattered was his presence on the pitch—clearing, intercepting, anticipating, and snuffing out danger at every turn.
Dybala had become a fortress in front of the backline.
Young centre-backs Maureen and Phil Jones, along with the goalkeeper Lindegaard, all came over to give him high-fives and hugs.
"Brilliant work!" Maureen shouted with genuine admiration.
Just a few days ago, when Alessandro was first promoted to the senior squad, he had been met with indifference. Now, he was the centre of attention.
This is what real strength commands—respect.
Alessandro had proven his worth, and now the dressing room regarded him not as a youth team call-up, but as a proper first-team member.
With the way he played today, everyone knew his spot in the starting lineup was no fluke.
United's 4-4-2 formation often called for two central midfielders. The current starters were Carrick and Fletcher. Scholes was Carrick's backup, while Park Ji-sung was Fletcher's.
If Alessandro could continue to play at this level—on par or better than Park Ji-sung—why couldn't he become a permanent fixture in the rotation?
The team was thinking it.
And Dybala? He had a much higher aim.
He didn't come here to be a backup.
He wanted a starting spot. Not just to impress, but to show Ferguson that one of those two midfield positions belonged to him—without question.
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Meanwhile, Sir Alex Ferguson walked toward the locker room.
He wasn't concerned with substitutions or rotations at this moment.
He was thinking about Darren Fletcher.
Ever since Fletcher's illness, it had been difficult for him to return to his prime. Injuries continued to plague him this season.
Cleverley and Park Ji-sung had stepped up somewhat—but their ceiling was limited.
Dybala's performance today had raised serious questions.
If he could maintain this level...
Ferguson quickly shook the thought away. The game wasn't over. His priority now was winning.
He pushed the door open and saw Juninho joking and celebrating with his teammates.
"Well done, lad," Ferguson said, praising him as he entered.
Taking a risk on a 17-year-old with no professional experience had paid off.
Still, Ferguson kept a straight face. It was the way he operated—praise in public, but not too much.
Alessandro knew what that look meant.
But he wasn't worried.
With today's performance, Ferguson would no longer dare to offer him a meager academy contract.
For the first time, Alessandro had seized the upper hand in contract negotiations.
Just one dominant half of football—and now, the club had to take him seriously.
But Alessandro was only half right.
Ferguson wasn't thinking about contracts.
He was thinking about potential.
It was obvious dybala was comfortable as a defensive midfielder.
But that might be limiting him.
That goal in the first half kept replaying in Ferguson's mind.
After the game, he had gone to rewatch the footage. The live broadcast didn't show Juninho's movement leading up to the goal.
But when he saw the tactical cam...
It was no fluke.
When Valencia was ready to cross, Alessandro had already started running into position—like he knew exactly where the ball would go.
Without hesitation.
As if he'd seen it before.
Was he psychic?
In truth, Ferguson wasn't far from it.
The moment Valencia lifted his foot, Juninho's mind visualized the play like a 3D simulation.
Teammate and opponent positions, ball trajectory, potential rebounds—it all lit up in his head like a predictive engine.
So when he made that run?
It was certainty—not luck.
That's what Dybala had now: full-level prediction.
Even though his shooting and passing still had room to grow compared to United's senior players, this one skill made him elite.
He could read danger. Predict passes. Anticipate movement.
And most importantly—see goals before they happened.
This was Alessandro's real capital.
Ferguson couldn't name the ability, but he saw its power.
It wasn't as flashy as Messi's brilliance—you don't gasp watching Juninho touch the ball.
But behind the calm exterior, he had that kind of potential.
True game-breaking talent often hides in plain sight.
Only when tested in a real match does it come alive.
And Ferguson believed he had just discovered something special.
Letting Alessandro remain just a defensive midfielder?
That might be the real waste.
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