The locker room was buzzing with excitement, I couldn't sit down, and neither could any of the other lads, we were restlessly walking and the manager looked at us chuckling, this was true passion, every fiber of my being wanted to rush out there and score more goals, but the truth was that the Gegenpress was starting to lock us down and we were wearing down, we had to come up with a strategy to open them up.
Ten Hag finally brought over his tactics board and taught us what he called the double press, invented for a team where the strongest zone was midfield, I couldn't help but feel proud at those words, anyway, this was where the midfield would switch positions rapidly with the front line and attack at fast pace, meaning, Rasmus, Rashord and Garnacho would go into the midfield for just that one play, he told us it was a gamble, a one-off thing, so use it only when in dire situations.
As we walked onto the field, there was an uneasy feeling in the air, and as we moved to our separate halves for kick-off, Haaland began smiling a time creepily and Foden winked at me, something was up but I didn't know what! It turns out I would find out soon enough.
Kick-off took place with the whistle and Rodri toyed with the ball, passing to Ruben Dias we thought that they would not change up tactics and stick with the Gegenpress, but that all changed in an instant, our red devils could only watch as Foden streaked past Dalot and received a long-ball from Rodri, I could vaguely see Guardiola smiling at the move.
Shit, they came prepared!
We were too late to react and even though, Malacia and Martinez attempted to defend our goal, Foden's pin-point passing found Haaland's long outstretched legs which of course tapped the ball in, the roar of the blue half of the stadium was intense, 5o minutes of no goals and it felt like City were back in the game.
We tried our hardest to get our heads back into the match, but I could literally see our faces fall, and some even accepted defeat already, morale was a tricky thing and extremely hard to come by, what would we do? This question continued to ring out in my head, until the 78th minute. I have had no touches on the ball in the second half, we barely have any possession, and City owned us.
And before we knew it, they were on a counter-attack after collecting the loose ball from Rasmus's 4th failed attempt this half and they were streaking towards the goal, I ran back and tried to barge into Haaland but was thrown off by the big man, tackles didn't work on him, Bruno crashed into him, but he still ran with the ball and City was given the advantage to keep going, he was in the penalty box when Malacia ran up to him.
BANG!
Haaland wasn't hurt but it was a bad foul, in the penalty area, and I watched, helpless as the referee's hand showed red and Malacia kicked the ground before storming off the field. Haaland was lining up the penalty and we all stood behind him, in anticipation of a rebound. I had all my fingers crossed, praying he would miss the shot, praying that he would shoot the ball out of the stadium and it would be a great City disappointment.
I watched once more, helplessly as Haaland ran up to the ball...
Leaned back...
BANG!
Onana dived...
Way too early, the sound was just from Haaland's boot striking the crowd and we watched in disappointment as the ball rolled into the net.
We only had 10 minutes left and we were, tied. The boys didn't have it in them to last another 30 minutes. If there was one time where we were in a dire situation, it's this one and I called the team into a huddle, looking for Bruno's approval, he shook his head and I called everyone over. Ten Hag was looking at the circle we formed on the pitch nervously as we discussed options.
"Lads, we have to go for it, Lisandro, Diogo, Luke, I need you to remain compact while we complete the position switch, Rasmus, Alejandro, Marcus, we need you to be fast and to cover as many players in the midfield as you can, hold back Rodri for as long as you can. Bruno, Casi, and I will handle the rest, Let do this lads, for United, For MANCHESTER, FOR THE RED DEVILS!"
We got ready for kick-off again and Rasmus rolled the ball to me, I looked towards my defense who all nodded and conjoined as a three-man center-back formation at the back to remain compact, five minutes remaining.
I dribbled the ball past the youth player and threaded the ball to Garnacho and everyone in the stadium except Ten Hag, the assistant coach, and the team didn't know why he was running toward his own goal, Garnacho, Rasmus and Rashford were all running simultaneously in a line, at the last second before switching positions, Garnacho passed me the ball and I ran forward like an unchained bull. Ruben Dias came in front of me I back-heeled the ball to Casi, who threaded it to Bruno, I turned past Dias and received Bruno's threaded ball.
One-on-one with the keeper again, where the true peak of the game is, the real rush, the real passion, I stared Ederson in the eye daring him to come out and stop me, he obliged, grinning maliciously as he lunged towards me, the ball, two minutes left, lose this and there would be no more chances. Suddenly the image of that little boy who told me to win everything, came into my mind, the image of my smiling team, the image of my family, the crest of United, the crest of my home!
Ederson's hands were centimeters away from the ball as I flicked it over his falling form, the ball falling slowly to the ground, gravity bringing it down to my foot ready to volley, my boot cascaded into the ball, using it as a wrecking ball. I envisioned the ball sprouting tendrils of lightning as concentration poured down my face alongside the ocean of sweat and tears.
BANG!
The ball whipped the net, and almost instantly, there was a great roar from the crowd, I ran to the far end of the corner of the court in front of the sea of red, pulling off my red t-shirt and throwing it into the crowd alongside myself and I was lost for a second before I was raised into the air by a thousand hands. And a chant began in my name.
"From the streets of Manchester, he rose, With every match, his legend grows. With skills so sharp, and feet so fleet, Adri's the one we love to greet! In red and white, he takes his stand, Guiding us with his master plan, In the Theatre of Dreams, he reigns supreme, With every touch, he fulfills our dream. For Manchester United, he'll always fight!"
The chant finished and I was dropped back into the field where I received a yellow card for removing my shirt, I had to get a spare because mine was gone and I looked back at the fans, leaving another one of my trademark smiles.
I hugged my team as the whistle blew for full time and watched as Ten Hag walked onto the pitch and celebrated with us, he looked at me all while the celebrations were taking place, "You really are something special Adri, I've got a good eye." I chuckled at this and we rejoined the celebrations in the locker room and sang the new chant all the way home on the team bus.
What a day!