Football Dynasty
Chapter 251: Absolute Steal

Chapter 251: Absolute Steal

The substitutes and first-team coaches had already stepped outside. Robertson and his staff were the last to leave, after bidding farewell to Richard, who met them and the players outside the locker room.

Richard offered words of encouragement as he patted each player on the shoulder, one by one, before heading toward the VIP box to rejoin Marina and Miss Heysen.

However, before that, he paused for a moment as he noticed Manchester United’s future legendary manager, Alex Ferguson, lingering in the tunnel. Soon, the two head managers met, exchanging a firm handshake before walking together past the players and eventually stepping out of the tunnel side by side.

After a brief exchange, Ferguson patted Robertson on the shoulder, then raised his hands to applaud as he made his way toward the home team’s bench.

The technical area at Old Trafford was unique—it wasn’t positioned along the sidelines, but instead integrated into the stands.

After meeting with Ferguson, Robertson didn’t walk over to the away bench. Instead, he stood at the edge of the pitch, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes fixed on the field, silently waiting for the match to begin.

The southwest and north stands were engulfed in a sea of red—a demeanor forged through years of loyalty to Manchester United. It wasn’t something innate, but something earned over time: the Red Devil spirit, built through triumphs and heartbreak, and strong enough to last a lifetime.

Across from them, the away supporters were placed in the east stand—strategically positioned opposite United’s most loyal fans. It was a deliberate design for safety, ensuring that the most passionate supporters on both sides remained apart.

The Blazing Squad, as they had already informed Richard, made another appearance. Over a thousand away supporters, clad in City’s iconic sky-blue jerseys, filled the east stand—together forming a stunning and symbolic display: the shape of an eagle!

Of course, there were limitations depending on the stadium, the home club’s policy, and local regulations. Since this was Old Trafford instead of Maine Road, Richard had already instructed Miss Heysen to pre-submit the design for safety, messaging, and size review to Old Trafford’s security.

And Manchester United approved it.

Not because it was City, or Richard, or anything political—but because of the eagle itself. In fact, the eagle is not about the football club, but rather about Manchester, the city. It came directly from the official coat of arms of the City of Manchester.

The golden eagle symbolizes Manchester’s global reach and industrial strength, particularly its role in aviation and trade.

It represents power, ambition, and an international outlook—values the city embraced during its era of modernization.

So while it was City fans who unveiled the tifo, the eagle itself represented something greater than just one club. It stood not only for the visiting team, but also as a tribute to both Manchester City and Manchester United—as proud representatives of Manchester in the highest league in England, Europe, and the world.

As both teams lined up to enter the field, Sky Sports’ live broadcast kicked off.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to Old Trafford. I’m Martin Tyler, and joining me for today’s coverage of this third fixture in the 1996/1997 Premier League season is Andy Gray. Great to have you here, Andy."

"Thanks, Martin. It’s a big one today—Manchester United versus newly promoted Manchester City. United, of course, come into this with momentum: a dominant 4–0 win over Newcastle in the Charity Shield and another solid performance in their league opener against Wimbledon."

"And now they face their neighbors—Manchester City."

"Exactly. To be honest, Martin, I can’t say too much about this City side yet—but there’s no denying they turned heads last season in the First Division. And even now, in their first two Premier League matches, they’ve shown real promise with a win and a draw. Bit of controversy in that last one, mind you, but we’ll leave that aside for now."

"To the point—what I can say is, today’s match is a clash of two young squads. But compared to City’s, United’s lineup this year seems a bit more seasoned. Ferguson is clearly looking to blend the old with the new as he builds the next generation of Red Devils."

"Absolutely! I also heard that City’s manager, O’Neill, still isn’t able to take charge fully due to the injury he sustained last season. But today, we see the caretaker leading the team at Old Trafford. Now, let’s take a look at the starting lineups."

"The home team, Manchester United, are in their traditional red shirts and white shorts. Starting goalkeeper: Peter Schmeichel. Right-back: Gary Neville. Center-backs: Gary Pallister and David May. Left-back: Denis Irwin. Right midfield: David Beckham. Central midfielders: Roy Keane and Nicky Butt. Left midfield: Ryan Giggs. Forwards: Ole Gunnar Solskjær and Eric Cantona. United are set up in their traditional 4-4-2 formation."

"And now, let’s take a look at the visiting team—Manchester City. In goal, unexpectedly, City have fielded a young goalkeeper—Gianluigi Buffon. I’ve never heard his name before, to be honest. At the back, a solid back four: Javier Zanetti, William Gallas, Rio Ferdinand, and Gianluca Zambrotta. Moving into midfield, City are going with a four-man setup: Mark van Bommel, young Andrea Pirlo, City’s star in the last match, Neil Lennon, and Okocha."

"And the most eye-catching part of the lineup is up front. Henrik Larsson, cool and clinical in front of goal, pairs with the explosive Ronaldo—a real handful for any defense. Last season, the two combined for a staggering 66 goals in the First Division! They were lethal then, no doubt. But the Premier League is a different beast altogether, Martin. We’ll see if they can replicate that magic here."

"Alright, folks, we’re moments away from kickoff here at Old Trafford as the 1996/1997 Premier League season gets underway! Manchester City will get us started, attacking from left to right."

PHWEEEE!

WOAH!

Old Trafford erupted as City kicked off the match.

Solskjær immediately chased after the ball as if his life was on the line, trying to gain possession as quickly as possible. However, Neil Lennon controlled the ball with ease and passed it back to Van Bommel before Solskjær could get there.

But just as Van Bommel was about to receive the pass, Roy Keane was instantly upon him. He collided aggressively into Van Bommel’s back, trying to win the ball back for his team.

United were still United—operating on an entirely different level. They moved in perfect synchronicity, their pressing coordinated and relentless. The moment City tried to build from midfield, United’s players swarmed like a well-drilled unit, cutting off passing lanes and forcing hurried decisions.

Roy Keane and Nicky Butt, in particular, were relentless—hunting like ferocious wolves in midfield. Their intensity set the tone, and City found it increasingly difficult to keep possession. Gradually, they were pushed deeper and deeper, as United imposed a high defensive line and squeezed the pitch with precision.

It was a textbook display of control—intense, organized, and suffocating. The kind of performance that reminded everyone how United managed to claw back a 12-point deficit against Newcastle in the second half of last season.

Van Bommel, caught off guard by Keane’s sudden pressure, panicked. He rushed an immediate pass back toward Neil Lennon—but it was poorly executed. The ball came off his foot too strong, zipping past Lennon, who was only a few yards away and unprepared for the pace.

Without any surprise, Beckham was the one who got to the loose ball first—he was the nearest. Without waiting too long, he looked up, scanning for passing options.

’David Beckham is dangerous with his crossing and passing, but he’s weaker physically and has a lower work rate.’

That was exactly what had been briefed to them yesterday during tactical training preparation.

And the moment Beckham got the ball, Lennon and Zambrotta didn’t give him even a second to breathe. Eyes locked on the ball like a hawk tracking its prey, Zambrotta slid in with a perfectly timed tackle, sweeping the ball away and sending Beckham tumbling to the ground in the process.

"Hey, foul! Foul!"

Zambrotta heard Beckham shouting from the turf. But he didn’t even glance at him. He was confident it wasn’t a foul—he had clearly taken the ball before making contact.

He passed toward the nearest teammate, Lennon, who then quickly played the ball to Okocha.

The African picked up the ball from the ground with the agility of a cat sensing catnip. Without delay, he brought it under control with a deft touch as he scanned the field for suitable passing options.

Then he saw it—Larsson, who had long positioned himself in space near the edge of the final third, seemingly anticipating a pass.

"Shit," Okocha cursed under his breath as he noticed that not only Nicky Butt but Roy Keane had already closed him down.

With no other choices, he flicked the ball onto his left foot, skipping past a sliding tackle from Butt to create a yard of space. Without any hesitation, he dug his boot under the ball and chipped it over the center.

Pirlo was already calling for the ball!

Okocha’s cheeky pass managed to catch Roy Keane off guard, as he could only watch the ball float through the air, giving Pirlo enough time to bring it under control.

With a deft touch, Pirlo settled the ball and swept his gaze across the pitch. If Okocha had seen it, then so could he.

Since City had managed to win back possession, Pirlo intended to make it count. He looked toward United, who were playing with an unusually high defensive line.

And as you know, when a team plays with a high line—pushing defenders closer to the halfway mark—it brings certain advantages but also clear vulnerabilities: they become exposed to long balls, quick counters, and rapid transitions.

Larsson, who’d long opened himself up, just on the border of the final third, seemingly anticipating a pass from him. And Ronaldo also...

Pirlo make a decision.

He took a breath. His heart was beating faster than he’d like, but his instincts spoke louder than his nerves. Still learning, still growing, he swung his right foot through the ball—not with the elegance he would one day be known for, but with a boldness that even surprised himself. The long pass wasn’t perfect—it dipped slightly too early—but it was dangerous.

Ronaldo had already peeled off the shoulder of David May, timing his run to perfection—dancing right on the edge of the offside line.

As he caught Pirlo’s gaze, he twisted mid-stride, retracing a step to stay onside.

Before May could fully react, Ronaldo managed to slip in behind him, using that half-second of hesitation to his advantage as he penetrated deeper into United’s defensive third.

There, Ronaldo controlled the ball mid-sprint, cushioning it on his chest with effortless grace. It dropped perfectly into his stride without breaking rhythm. In one fluid motion, he slipped a short pass midair to Neil Lennon, who was already on the move.

Without hesitation, Lennon raised his foot and returned it with a sharp one-two, anticipating Ronaldo’s continued run into space, as they seamlessly peeled away from Gary Pallister—who had been aggressively tracking the play but was now left a step behind.

From the commentary box, Andy Gray couldn’t help but gasp. "Oh, what a touch! What a skill from Ronaldo!" he exclaimed, voice rising in disbelief. "He made that look far too easy—chest control, drop of the shoulder, and he’s away!"

With David May and Gary Pallister beaten, only one man remained—Gary Neville.

Gary Neville, seeing the ball drop toward Ronaldo, had already charged forward. Ronaldo was forced to stop suddenly and turn, intending to shield the ball.

Without hesitation, Neville stepped in—colliding into Ronaldo’s back with aggressive intent, trying to halt his momentum before he could break through.

Ronaldo received the return pass from Lennon beautifully, using his incredible strength to hold off the 21-year-old Red Nev. With the ball at his feet, he feinted a pass down the line—just enough to bait Neville forward—then spun sharply, executing an exquisite Cruyff turn.

In a flash, Neville was left wrong-footed and disoriented, completely unaware of how he’d been beaten.

Now clear of his marker, Ronaldo drove into the box. His stride quickened, the ball glued to his feet. Only one obstacle remained—Peter Schmeichel.

The great Dane rushed out, arms wide, trying to cut the angle. But Ronaldo was calm. Ice-cold. He waited a split second longer than most would dare, then slotted the ball low and hard—just under Schmeichel’s left arm and into the far corner.

BOOM!

With ice in his veins and fire in his boots, he turned away from goal, arms slowly stretching out to his sides like wings. Head high. Expression calm. Composed. Almost casual. A silent statement to the thousands of fans: ’You knew this was coming.’

Basking in the stunned atmosphere, his teammates chased after him, roaring in disbelief and celebration. Larsson caught up first, leaping onto his back. Okocha followed with a wild grin, while Van Bommel punched the air in triumph.

Behind them, in the away end, the Blazing Squad went ballistic—sky-blue jerseys bouncing, eagle banners flapping wildly in the chaos. They had just witnessed the impossible.

A teenager—Ronaldo Luís Nazário de Lima—had silenced Old Trafford.

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