How does one become the brain of a team?
This was the new challenge awaiting Juninho D'Alessandro.
Defending was simple enough—disrupt the opponent's rhythm, win the ball back.
But organizing the attack? That was a different beast entirely. It demanded vision, trust, and above all... understanding.
And for Juninho, who had just arrived and barely knew his teammates?
That made it even harder.
He didn't rely on speed. Instead, he jogged at a measured pace, eyes wide open.
At that moment, the roars inside Cruyff Stadium faded into silence.
Inside Juninho's mind, a simplified pitch came to life. Twenty-two dots—each representing a player—shifted across an invisible tactical map. Player movements, the ball's trajectory, space being created or closed—it all updated in real time.
He received the ball.
And instantly, the map moved.
Valencia pushed up. Ashley Young cut diagonally toward the box. Pea Hernández drifted laterally inside the penalty area. Welbeck dropped deep to receive.
Juninho didn't pass forward.
Instead, he slid the ball sideways to his midfield partner, Cleverley.
As Cleverley took possession, he spotted Juninho running laterally into a pocket of space and calling for the return pass.
He gave it back—but instantly regretted it.
Ajax's Sime de Jong pounced like a predator!
"Watch out!" Cleverley shouted.
But Juninho didn't flinch.
It was as if he had predicted it all.
He calmly lifted his foot and sent the ball flying—a perfect switch to the right flank.
"Brilliant!" the commentators praised in unison.
Right-back Rafael received the ball in stride. United had been building on the left, drawing Ajax's defense over. Now, the right side was wide open.
Rafael surged forward down the line.
Bait and switch—classic misdirection.
Juninho smirked.
The pitch is mine now.
He kept moving—run, pass, reposition. Again and again. Like a conductor orchestrating a symphony.
Bit by bit, he sculpted the game into his vision.
The entire Manchester United offense bent to his will.
On the touchline, Sir Alex Ferguson couldn't hide his excitement.
He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to throw his arms up in joy.
Many players could lead an attack.
But who could believe that Juninho—barely a week with the team—was already doing this?
Calm. Composed. Brilliant.
Ferguson turned to his assistant.
"Mike, this lad… he'll be the key to keeping United among the elite after I'm gone."
McPhelan glanced from Ferguson to Juninho, wide-eyed.
To impress Ferguson this much in one match?
This kid wasn't normal.
McPhelan knew the boss had doubts about United's future post-retirement. The squad was aging. The likes of Nani, Carrick, Ashley Young—solid players, but not the elite tier.
United's dominance was riding on the momentum of a machine Ferguson had built for decades.
But once the captain steps off the ship?
It takes something extraordinary to keep it from drifting.
Maybe...
Just maybe...
Juninho D'Alessandro was that heart.
...
Meanwhile, Rafael reached the attacking third—but with Ajax players retreating, he hesitated.
Then came Juninho's voice from behind.
Rafael looked back and saw the midfielder's signal.
Keep going.
He obeyed. A defender followed him into the box.
And in that moment, Juninho saw it:
A line—a seam in Ajax's defense.
He stepped up and threaded the ball forward.
A laser pass, skipping along the grass, slicing the defense open.
"Juninho's through ball… Hernández!!"
"What a pass!" the commentators shouted.
Pea Hernández made his run.
He didn't expect Juninho to actually thread it.
But this was his style—relentless running and sharp instincts in the box.
No stopping now.
He didn't trap it. Didn't adjust.
He just met the pass, raised his foot—
BANG.
The ball ricocheted off the grass, formed a gentle arc, and curved around the keeper's fingertips into the back of the net!
GOAL!
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