Chapter 411: Claim the Victory
With a casual wave of their hands, O’Neill and Mourinho directed their teams clearly: attack — no more stalling.
Pirlo, acting as the orchestrator in midfield today, remained intensely focused. He scanned the field before receiving the ball and moved intelligently without it, often planning his next pass or run in advance. Mourinhi’s roar in the locker room had completely energized him — he relied not just on his own confidence, but on the reassurance and energy of his teammates, which they consistently provided.
Everton tried to tightly mark Zidane, but his constant movement allowed him to slip past markers and make rapid, incisive passes, frustrating exhausted defenders who couldn’t even get a hand on his shirt. Meanwhile, Pirlo maintained complete control at his feet; when not under ferocious pressure, his passes came effortlessly, slicing through Everton’s midfield.
Zambrotta and Thuram surged forward to support the attack, immediately showcasing Manchester City’s offensive edge. Everton simply couldn’t match their pace.
Duncan Ferguson, the more physically imposing player, struggled to recover after being outmaneuvered by Zidane and Pires in a quick one-two, falling behind as he raced back. Pires carried the ball down the flank, taking his time rather than rushing to cross. He cut inside, forcing Everton’s defense to collapse on him, then sent a perfectly timed pass toward the edge of the box.
Zidane, darting to the side, let the ball slip deliberately through his legs, momentarily confusing Everton’s defenders. This opened up space for Ronaldo, completely unmarked at the top of the box. With determination in his eyes, he unleashed a thunderous shot, keeping his gaze locked on the ball as it flew toward the goal.
Thomas Myhre froze, caught off guard. He had been tracking Zidane, anticipating him to receive Pires’s pass, and never expected Ronaldo to arrive in that moment. The ball slid past his armpit and rolled into the net — a perfectly executed, clinical goal.
"It’s in! In the twelfth minute, Ronaldo has blasted the net, opening Manchester City’s account against a sluggish and disorganized Everton! City are exploiting every local advantage through precise positional play — astonishing to see so many City players swarming in front of Everton’s goal. Ronaldo scores! Could this be a sign that they’re on their way to clinch the title?!"
Ronaldo sprinted toward the corner flag, head held high, planting a passionate kiss on the club crest in front of thousands of roaring Manchester City supporters behind him. His teammates came racing to join him, fists pumping in celebration, shouts and cheers echoing around Maine Road.
Carl Morran, at the forefront, waved the golden "Ragle" tifo with pride, his movements perfectly synchronized with the sea of blue around him.
"I LOVE YOU, RONALDO!!!" screamed him and the crowd, their voices blending into a deafening roar.
Richard closed his eyes, clenching his fist tightly and moving it up and down in contained jubilation.
"Son, it’s a goal! It’s a goal!" his father shouted excitedly, shaking his shoulder. Richard smiled and nodded, sharing the moment.
"Hmm, it seems we might be watching your team lift the trophy?" Phil Anschutz said with a smile, a mixture of envy and genuine congratulations as he looked at Richard.
Richard returned the smile, but with humility. "Still 80 minutes to go," he replied, keeping himself grounded despite the exhilaration coursing through him.
The stadium around them roared with life — the fans, the chants, the energy — all feeding into the tension and excitement. Richard let himself take a moment to savor it, knowing that in football, the game isn’t over until the final whistle.
Combining wing play with incisive midfield attacks, Manchester City’s offense wasn’t just reliant on the deep-lying playmaker; their full-backs seamlessly joined the attack, stretching Everton’s defense. Zidane’s role as organizer might have diminished slightly, but his direct threat on goal had only increased. He now frequently drove into the box, drawing defenders toward him and creating space for Pirlo — a perfectly symbiotic relationship.
After conceding, Everton launched furious counterattacks, but their wing crosses failed to trouble City’s defense. Nick Barmby’s attempt to break through was intercepted effortlessly by Makelele, who immediately fed the ball to Pirlo.
Pirlo charged forward, weaving past the midfield, and after a quick wall pass with Zidane, he approached the edge of the box. Everton defender Craig Short rushed in to confront him, but Pirlo remained calm.
With surgical precision, he delivered a direct pass straight to Pires. Without hesitation, Pires struck a powerful volley. Thomas Myhre, caught off guard once again, reacted too late — the ball slipped past him and into the back of the net.
"Twenty minutes into the match, Manchester City leads by two goals! What on earth is Everton doing? They look completely out of sorts, while City is playing absolutely astonishing football. This counterattack tore through Everton’s defense with ease!"
"Yes, Andy, did you see that assist? Pirlo was brilliant — every touch, every pass perfectly timed. He’s dictating the rhythm of the game, carving open space and making it look effortless. Drawing defenders, controlling the tempo, full-backs bombing forward... Everton simply can’t cope with this level of coordination. You have to wonder: can they ever recover in this first half?"
After Pires scored, he dashed toward Pirlo, who had delivered the perfect assist. The two collided in a joyful embrace, laughing and shouting over the roar of the crowd. Zidane and Ronaldo rushed over to join them, forming a tight circle as the team celebrated together. The fans erupted in a deafening chant:
"We are City! We are City! We are the Blues!"
Even the coaching staff clapped and waved from the sidelines, while Richard and the other executives exchanged satisfied smiles. The stadium vibrated with energy — this was more than a goal; it was a statement. City were in control, and everyone could feel it.
Pires, still surrounded by teammates after his goal, suddenly felt a clap on his back and a firm grip on his shoulder.
"What the—?" he began to say, but his words caught in his throat when he looked up and saw Mourinho standing there.
"How are you feeling? Can you handle this game?" Mourinho asked, his gaze sharp, assessing every muscle and movement. Not just him but everyone.
Fatigue and muscle soreness are normal for footballers — it’s expected after intense matches. Normally, players might shrug it off, but at Manchester City, Richard took it very seriously. Especially before the match, he had stressed the importance of rotating players in less critical games, particularly when the team was already leading.
"I’m fine! I’m all good!" Pires replied, a grin tugging at his lips.
"Yes, boss. We’re all good," his teammates chorused.
"We can still hold this," another player added confidently, reminding the team of the need for focus, resilience, and collective effort to secure victory.
Mourinho nodded approvingly.
"Not just fine — you need to enjoy the match! This is your stage! Just play like you always do," Mourinho shouted, his voice carrying across the sideline.
The entire Manchester City team converged in celebration after their second goal, while Everton stood stunned, unable to respond.
Kendall was at a loss. He couldn’t even pinpoint which of City’s midfield attackers posed the greatest threat — Zidane, Pires, or Pirlo? All three had played crucial roles in the build-up and execution of the goal.
Manchester City’s offensive approach was relentless. Even Nick Barmby, whose £5.75 million record signing had promised so much, pushed forward only to lose possession, leaving Everton’s midfield exposed and vulnerable. Two holding midfielders could barely contain City’s fluidity; the attackers toyed with them effortlessly.
Once the celebration subsided, O’Neill and Mourinho gestured from the sidelines, urging the crowd to make even more noise.
"This is Manchester! Let Everton leave with nightmares!" they barked, a grin spreading across their face.
Everton, however, refused to fold entirely. They had to attack — failure would hand City the championship. Yet, today, City’s performance was nothing short of stellar. Every player showcased individual brilliance while complementing the team’s cohesive strategy.
Henry, combining beautifully with Zambrotta down the left flank, cut inside, deceiving Carl Tiler with a deft feint before entering the box. Against Thomas Myhre’s charge, he slotted the ball gracefully past the goalkeeper, sending it into the net.
With thirty-six minutes gone in the first half, Manchester City led 3-0.
Everton was completely lost. The more they attacked, the less coherent their play became.
Before the half concluded, City executed a series of fluid passing combinations. Ronaldo used his body to shield the ball from Myhre in the box, returning it to Zidane, who unleashed a fierce shot that found the back of the net.
4-0
Ronaldo 12’
Pires 20’
Henry 36’
Zidane 44’
The first half already presented an astonishing scoreline.
Zidane dashed across the pitch, pulling off his shirt to reveal his toned physique. Camera flashes erupted from the sidelines, momentarily blinding him, as the fans roared in approval.
By halftime, Manchester City’s ambition, teamwork, and sheer dominance had thoroughly crushed Everton, sending a clear message: they were not just playing for points — they were playing to claim history.