After the match against Sheffield Wednesday, Richard invited Dave Richards to his office for a quiet drink. He uncorked a bottle of fine wine for his guest and poured himself a glass of orange juice before they settled onto the sofa.
"Pre-season expectations feel naïve now," Dave Richards said. "Sheffield Wednesday want to make a na for themselves in the Premier League, but the reality is harsh. Commitnt and discipline can only take you so far—team spirit can’t hide a lack of quality forever."
He then took a sip of his wine, a heavy bitterness settling in his chest.
Richard nodded. Sheffield’s performances so far had been deeply polarizing—impressive against stronger opponents, yet utterly incapable of capitalizing against weaker sides. Giant killers, people called them. But how long could a club survive on that label without ever becoming a giant themselves?
When opponents sat deep, Sheffield struggled. Even tactical tweaks during matches rarely made a difference. Breaking down compact defenses remained their greatest weakness. It reminded Richard of Leeds United under George Graham.
’How effective is parking the bus, really?’
Once a counterattack ca, their defensive discipline often cracked. Chasing gas exposed their limitations—an uncomfortable truth for any side trying to climb the table. Their ambition simply didn’t match their approach. If they truly wanted to rely on ultra-defensive football, mid-table safety should have been the realistic goal.
"You want Sheffield in the Premier League’s upper tier," Richard said at last, "but let’s be honest—it’s almost impossible. Liverpool, Arsenal, Manchester United, Chelsea... even Leeds have stronger squads."
"At the end of the day," He continued, "football is still about individual quality. It’s not everything, but it matters. Look at Spurs or Everton over the last two years—good squads, yet no cohesion. Sheffield’s attack is decent enough to survive. They can score, they can frustrate mid-table teams. But the higher you aim, the more important defense becos."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Top teams don’t just defend well. The real difference is whose defense holds under pressure—who can shut down rivals in decisive matches."
Dave Richards fell silent, absorbing the words. Then his expression shifted, enthusiasm sparking in his eyes. He began asking questions—about squad balance, about recruitnt, about long-term planning. Richard was happy to indulge him. The match was over, and he had no desire to go ho just yet. Talking football—real football—was always a pleasure.
"You know," Dave said thoughtfully, "sotis I think we should invest in an attacking midfielder to improve transitions, or maybe another striker. But with Wilson managing Sheffield, he’s always favored defensive players."
Richard didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, he ntioned two teams: Arsenal and the newly crowned World Cup champions, France.
One relied heavily on an attacking midfielder. The other did not.
"The real difference," Richard explained calmly, "is that Arsenal weakened their central attacking play by focusing on pace down the wings. France, on the other hand, sacrificed so firepower up front."
He paused.
The common thread? A double holding midfield.
The purpose was obvious: defensive stability.
"That’s why O’Neill liked using a 4-4-2 at City," Richard continued, "with Pirlo and Makélélé in the middle. One intercepted and dictated tempo; the other provided physical presence and tactical intelligence."
Hearing this, Dave sighed. "You know, when you decided to part ways with Martin O’Neill, we seriously considered sacking Danny Wilson and replacing him with O’Neill. But the competition was fierce... and in the end, I chose to stick with Wilson."
Martin O’Neill, of course, was beyond doubt as a coach. City’s success—winning two major trophies—was proof enough. In fact if we talked in real life trajectory, whenever Ferguson announced his retirent, O’Neill was always among the top candidates to succeed him. The first ti, he chose to manage the Scottish giants Celtic; the second ti, he remained at Celtic after Ferguson changed his mind.
They continued their discussion until 9 p.m., then went out for dinner before finally parting ways.
After the league match, February’s fixtures awaited. Manchester City were set to face Tottenham Hotspur before the League Cup semi-final.
In their previous encounter earlier in the season, City had been defeated at White Hart Lane—but that was when O’Neill was still in charge. This ti, things were different.
Ahead of the rematch, Mourinho downplayed the challenge at his pre-match press conference.
"If City win this match, they’ll secure fourth place in the table," he said. "The difficulty isn’t high. I’ll be fielding several young players to give them experience."
And then he followed through, revealing his starting lineup.
Goalkeeper: Paul Robinson
Defenders: Zambrotta, Lúcio, John Terry, Wes Brown
Midfielders: Gattuso, Pirlo, Zidane
Attackers: Joe Cole, Trezeguet, Ronaldinho
This couldn’t even be considered a squad cadangan; three unfamiliar nas were now in the dia spotlight.
Eighteen-year-old left-backs Wes Brown and Joe Cole made their debuts, while Gattuso, long dubbed the Little Makelele for his aggressive play, was making his first appearance as a starter today.
What does that an? Well, by undermining the opponent, it appeared that he was indeed fielding a youthful lineup—a subtle sign of arrogance and underestimation.
PHWEEEE~
But then the match began.
When everyone looked at their formation, they were surprised. It was a 4-5-1!
With three holding midfielders ready to fight and scrap, this setup was a clear enticent for the opponent to commit to attack. Joe Cole and Ronaldinho frequently dropped back to support defensively as well.
Tottenham, given their recent poor performances—especially their humiliating ho defeat against Arsenal—felt as if their trip to Manchester was just going through the motions.
Yet could they really ignore the dia coverage in London, which portrayed City’s recent form as overwhelmingly dominant compared to theirs? The press depicted City as so powerful that Tottenham seed destined to lose.
George Graham was furious.
George Graham!
The king of "parking the bus"!
For the first ti, Tottenham took the initiative, attacking fiercely.
Unfortunately for them, this was precisely what City wanted—and exactly what Mourinho’s lineup and pre-match comnts had aid for. Sitting in the dugout, he rested his chin on his hand and watched the ga unfold. Just four minutes into the first half, the hyper-aggressive Tottenham side was caught off guard by City’s counterattack.
Gattuso intercepted the ball just outside the penalty area, switched play to the wing for a counter, and Wes Brown wasted no ti sending it forward to Trezeguet. The ball went slightly too high and was punched away by Ian Walker.
But Zidane was ready to collect the loose ball. Taking possession, he elegantly dribbled past Ramon Vega before sending a perfectly tid through-ball to the onside Klose.
Zidane didn’t let his teammate down, calmly finishing into the bottom corner to put City ahead.
Manchester City 1–0 Tottenham Hotspur
The ga appeared one-sided, but it was also a testant to Mourinho’s tactical mind gas.
If Tottenham didn’t take the initiative to attack, it would be almost impossible to break through City’s defense. After all, they were also a Big Six team. And if they insisted on defending, how would they face the dia in London, which continued to provoke them?
Even after conceding, Tottenham didn’t falter; they pressed forward relentlessly, desperate to claw back into the ga. But City’s counter-attacking machine was already in motion.
Thirteen minutes later, Zambrotta seized the mont. Racing down the flank, he sliced past two defenders with fluid precision.
A quick one-two with Trezeguet just outside the box opened a clear lane, and Zambrotta’s pinpoint pass found Joe Cole unmarked in the penalty area.
Joe Cole didn’t hesitate. With a subtle feint, he shifted the ball onto his stronger foot, danced past the advancing goalkeeper, and delicately lofted it into the net.
The stadium erupted.
"Joe Cole! What a goal! Eighteen years old and already on the scoresheet! What a debut! City is two goals up in under twenty minutes!" the comntator shouted. "This is turning into another rout. And look at these debutants—Wes Brown and Joe Cole—could they beco the future backbone of City?"
On the pitch, Joe Cole sprinted toward Zambrotta, wrapping him in a brief embrace.
Mourinho rose from the dugout, his eyes scanning the field. He waved Michael Carrick and Owen Hargreaves over. A brief exchange of words was all that was needed. Mourinho nodded once, then scanned the field, eyes sharp, searching for any opportunity for tactical adjustnt.
PHWEEEE~
Manchester City 2–0 Tottenham Hotspur
The first half ended, and the players retreated to their locker rooms. But soon, the second half began, and the intensity picked up exactly where it had left off.
"Two more young talents are making their Premier League debuts for Manchester City," Andy Gray, the comntator announced, excitent in his voice. "Michael Carrick and Owen Hargreaves are stepping onto the pitch, ready to leave their mark."
Carrick replaced Pirlo.
Hargreaves replaced Gattuso.
At first, both Carrick and Hargreaves struggled to find their marks in the defensive setup. The opponents’ formation was compact, leaving little space to exploit.
Mourinho remained patient, his eyes scanning the field with sharp focus. He waved his hand, signaling Hargreaves to stay disciplined and alert. From ti to ti, he shouted brief, precise instructions. Once the instructions were absorbed, he gave a subtle nod.
"This is acceptable, I think, considering they are first-tirs," Mourinho whispered under his breath. Only when he was ready to return to the ga did the stadium suddenly erupt.
He was taken aback. "What?"
To his astonishnt, City players had already charged up to join the celebration after Zidane’s goal.
"What happened?" he asked Baltemar Brito, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"They exploited Tottenham’s high defensive line," Brito explained quickly. "Carrick got the ball, then played a perfectly tid through pass to Zidane while he was unmarked."
Michael Carrick—assist!
With the ga now 3–0, it felt all but over.
As play resud, Mourinho kept a sharp eye on his City players, signaling them to stay compact and disciplined, shifting forward only when the mont was right. From ti to ti, he advanced himself slightly, gesturing instructions, urging them to push forward with precision.
He brought the team to the forefront and encouraged daring forward runs in the upcoming play—just as they had drilled repeatedly in training.
anwhile, Tottenham seed on the verge of collapse. City’s intensity left no room for respite; it was clear Mourinho had no intention of easing up.
"Fall back now!" George Graham shouted, desperation in his voice.
Aggressive play had been the wrong choice. Tottenham’s reliance on total defense left them ill-prepared for the tactical onslaught. Three goals down, mories of the nightmare City had inflicted while he was in charge at Leeds United resurfaced. Was history about to repeat itself?
Tottenham tightened their formation, doubling up on defenses and marking Zidane, Joe Cole, and the already-scoring Trezeguet with extra caution.
Wrong!
Mourinho had anticipated Tottenham’s defensive adjustnts. That’s why he had positioned his midfielders to cover both the wings and central zones, ensuring that City could exploit any gaps, however narrow. In the final minutes, this tactical setup allowed Ronaldinho to move almost unnoticed, finding pockets of space between defenders.
A corner was delivered into the box. Hargreaves leapt, eting the ball with a powerful header, but goalkeeper Ian Walker was alert, punching it away. Zidane reacted instantly, chasing the loose ball, and fired a low shot toward goal—but Stephen Carr was well-positioned, blocking it with his thigh.
"Oooh," the crowd at Maine Road sighed.
But striking the thigh didn’t stop the ball—it was still loose.
Out of nowhere, the unseen Ronaldinho appeared, tapping the ball easily with the tip of his foot before grinning widely and spreading his arms as he made his run.
"RONALDINHO!" the stadium erupted.
Ronaldinho—another goal!
City extended their lead to 4–0. The stadium erupted once again, the roar of the crowd echoing off the stands. The rout was effectively complete.
PHWEEE~
Ultimately, the score settled at 4–0.
As the final whistle blew, Mourinho calmly made his way across the pitch to offer a handshake to George Graham. But the Tottenham coach, humiliated and seething, didn’t even pause—he stord off in a huff.
Mourinho was montarily taken aback, then wore a resigned expression, settling for a handshake with the assistant coaches before turning to walk down the players’ tunnel.
"Manchester City remain unstoppable," Martin Tyler declared. "With five consecutive victories now extended to six in this match, and already amassing 18 points, their strong form since January continues. With this performance, Manchester City has essentially secured their place at the top four and is on course to battle their way through next season’s Champions League knockout stages.
However, unlike the euphoric celebrations that often followed City’s victories, the players and staff remained unusually serious. Mourinho’s squad knew there was little ti to bask in glory. Their next challenge lood large: Chelsea at Stamford Bridge.
Beyond that, an even bigger prize awaited—the current league leaders, Manchester United!
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