That Afternoon in Manchester I

"The referee blows his whistle, and we are underway here at Old Trafford," the commentator's voice boomed over the speakers. Marcus passed the ball under his feet, deep in his half, as he heard the whistle, then started running into the Manchester United half, hoping to receive a long ball and initiate an attack.

But the Fulham defenders just kept passing the ball among themselves, and the intent fizzled out. The Manchester United players were relentlessly pressing high, trying to force one of the Fulham defenders into making an error they could capitalize on.

The match dragged on in this manner, with both teams winning and losing possession until the 27th minute when there was a breakthrough. The Fulham defenders were still keeping the ball among themselves when Rob Atkinson attempted a pass into midfield, but it was intercepted.

"Error here by Atkinson, and United are through on goal! It's 2v1—Greenwood and Williams against the Fulham goalkeeper!" Mason Greenwood kept running towards the goalkeeper, with Alex Williams running in line with him, doing his best to remain onside. Marcus Greenwood squared the ball to Williams, who slotted it in, scoring the first goal of the game.

"Goal for United! Fulham were caught napping here!" "Shit! Atkinson, get your head in the fucking game!" shouted a frustrated Coach Anderson from the touchlines. Marcus sighed, watching Alex celebrate. He hadn't seen much of the ball so far in the first half, adding to his frustration as he made his way toward the center line to restart the match.

The match restarted with the referee's whistle, and Marcus played the ball back into his own half. The game continued much as it had earlier, with United pressing high. Noticing that if things continued like this his team would lose, Marcus dropped deep into his own half, hoping to initiate an attack from there.

Soon enough, an opportunity presented itself. Marcus received a pass from Alfie Mawson, Atkinson's partner in central defense. He made his way through the midfield, surprisingly unchallenged by the Manchester United players, and entered their half.

As he crossed the center line, two Manchester United players started pressing him. He tried his best to shake them off, but he was dispossessed, and the Manchester United players initiated another counterattack. "United are on another counter here!" said the commentator, but luckily this time, Greenwood struck the ball over the crossbar, the ball going behind for a goal kick.

"Marcus! Focus!" shouted Coach Anderson from the touchline. The match continued with United playing a high-pressing game, while Fulham's attacks continued to fizzle out. Disaster struck again when Manchester United initiated an attack from deep in their own half. James Garner played a cross-field ball all the way to the right, where Diogo Dalot brought it under control and sent a low cross into the penalty box. Alex Williams was there again to put the ball into the back of the net.

"Goal for United! Great movement from Williams to get away from his marker and slot it home. He's got a brace now," said the commentator as Alex ran over to the corner flag to celebrate his second goal of the day.

The frustration among the Fulham players was palpable. Marcus clenched his fists as he walked back to the center circle, his mind racing. The game was slipping away from them, and the pressure was mounting. He could see it in the faces of his teammates—heads down, shoulders slumped. Coach Anderson was pacing the touchline, barking orders, but the players seemed lost, unable to break free from United's suffocating press.

As the first half neared its end, Fulham managed to hold on without conceding again, but they were struggling to create anything meaningful. Every pass was either too cautious or too ambitious, resulting in turnovers that United eagerly pounced on. Marcus found himself dropping deeper and deeper, trying to link up with the defense, but every attempt to push forward was met with a wall of red shirts.

Finally, the referee blew the whistle for halftime. Marcus trudged off the pitch, drenched in sweat and frustration. He glanced over at Coach Anderson, who was already gathering the team near the tunnel. The coach's expression was a mix of anger and concern. They were 2-0 down, and something had to change in the second half if they were to have any chance of turning this around.

As the team gathered around Anderson, he didn't mince his words. "We're playing like we've already lost. Where's the fight? Where's the hunger? We need to get our heads back in this game. Marcus, I need you to lead the charge. Take control of the midfield and stop playing on the back foot. If we keep letting them dictate the game, we're done. Got it?"

Marcus nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. He knew the second half was going to be a battle, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet. The team broke from the huddle, heading into the locker room for a much-needed break and some tactical adjustments.