anwhile, Guardiola on the sidelines had no ti to lant the defending.
He urgently instructed Fernandinho and Fabian Delph to warm up imdiately.
In truth, the earlier issue wasn't solely Zinchenko's fault, but dwelling on who was to bla was pointless now.
The top priority was finding a way to equalize in the final ten minutes.
Guardiola didn't hold back on substitutions either.
After all, the Carabao Cup had recently abolished extra ti—once injury ti ended, it went straight to penalties!
He had to bet everything right now!
Surprisingly, Mourinho wasn't overly excited on his touchline either.
Instead, he called Nemanja Matic over. "Tell the lads to get extrely physical. Give away free kicks outside thirty yards all you want to break their rhythm—Manchester City has absolutely no aerial presence to challenge for high balls into the box."
After returning to the green pitch, Matic relayed the manager's dark arts instructions to his teammates.
As the Manchester United players wrapped up their celebrations, Ling was also giving his teammates specific tasks.
"Rolu, you need to drop deep later, positioning yourself directly between Manchester City's defenders and defensive midfielders to disrupt their passing lanes as much as possible."
"Paul, sa for you. Keep an eye on your defensive positioning at all tis. No jogging."
Lukaku nodded in understanding, but Pogba seed a bit displeased with being told to defend again.
Yet, if asked why, he couldn't really explain it.
Perhaps it was just his childish temperant.
Who knew the fourth official would suddenly raise the LED board on the touchline, clearly displaying two numbers—6 and 39.
Scott McTominay was coming on for Pogba.
Pogba wasn't as bold as Kepa Arrizabalaga, he didn't dare refuse to co off.
He knew Mourinho's ruthless temperant—if he said he'd bench him, he absolutely would.
He might even end up spending a few weeks training with the youth team if he caused a scene in a final.
As for the reason behind all this? Pogba subtly glanced at Ling.
Originally, Pogba was viewed as Manchester United's undisputed future, doted on by both teammates and the corporate higher-ups.
But now, things were entirely different.
Ling was the undisputed king.
"Well played, Paul." McTominay offered a brief word of praise, exchanged a quick high-five with Pogba, and stepped onto the pitch.
Since Kante joined Manchester United, McTominay's playing ti had been squeezed even further.
But even so, the young Scotsman never slacked off in training.
Because he knew his chance would co eventually in gas exactly like this.
"Scott, the task of absolutely marking Fernandinho out of the ga is yours!" Ling extended his right fist to his friend.
"Don't worry, skip!" McTominay bump his fist, his eyes filled with absolute determination.
...
BEEP!!!
The match resud, and surprisingly, Manchester City still didn't rush or panic.
They calmly passed the ball around, advancing slowly and thodically.
It had to be said, Guardiola was exceptional at coaching his players to trust the system under extre pressure.
But Mourinho was no slouch either.
When the match reached its final stages, they wouldn't give the opposition any chance to comfortably control possession.
High pressing! Forward pressure! Everyone in a red shirt was chasing the ball relentlessly!
Fernandinho was never as adept at organizing play under pressure as Ilkay Gundogan, and under Manchester United's relentless, physical pressing spearheaded by McTominay, he struggled even more to orchestrate attacks.
So the heavy responsibility fell entirely to De Bruyne and David Silva.
However, Silva was nearing the end of his illustrious career, even planning to retire and return ho to Spain after the season.
His stamina bar had long been flashing red!
Soon, the fourth official raised the board again, indicating a massive six minutes of injury ti.
At Wembley Stadium, so corporate fans had already started leaving to beat the traffic, seemingly losing hope in a City coback—as if the League Cup trophy already belonged to Manchester United.
'So.... tired,' De Bruyne muttered to himself, his lungs burning as if trying to numb his own senses.
But what could he do? He couldn't just quit in a final, could he?
Clive Tyldesley: "Jeremy Ling's stamina has also dropped severely! He was just beaten by a slick one-two between Kyle Walker and De Bruyne... but thankfully for United, he managed to cynically tug on De Bruyne's jersey in ti to stop the break!"
Ally McCoist: "He receives a clear yellow card for that professional foul. Taking one for the team. Let's see how Manchester City will handle this free kick."
De Bruyne glanced quickly at the stadium scoreboard.
The ti had already reached 94 minutes and 52 seconds.
This might be Manchester City's final attack of the ga.
He had initially thought about sending a high ball directly into the penalty area.
But that would only rely on a massive mistake from the towering Manchester United defenders.
Otherwise, given the average height of the Manchester City players, there was virtually no hope of winning the first header.
So he passed the ball quickly along the ground to Fernandinho instead.
Scott McTominay rembered his exact duty and fiercely closed him down.
Clive Tyldesley: "The veteran captain's experience is still invaluable! Fernandinho positioned himself early before making the switch, passing the ball to David Silva on the far flank!"
Ally McCoist: "Can the Spanish space magician save Manchester City at the death?!"
No. He no longer had the raw energy to dribble past fresh defenders.
But years of elite experience allowed him to spot a tiny gap in Manchester United's tired defensive line.
It wasn't big, but it was enough!
A precise, threaded pass tore open a corner of the defense, the ball skimming the grass beautifully toward Leroy Sané.
Young players are the most prone to lapses in concentration late in grueling gas.
Wan-Bissaka, as if possessed by panic, went to ground with a rash sliding tackle.
He missed the man entirely, and he missed the ball!
Sané didn't have ti to thank Wan-Bissaka for the error.
He drove the ball furiously toward the Manchester United penalty area.
Clive Tyldesley: "David Luiz's covering defense is very tily!"
Ally McCoist: "Sané, he can't shoot... he chooses to sweep it hard toward the center of the penalty area!"
Under the breathless gaze of 90,000 fans in the stadium...
Sergio Aguero squeezed out his absolute last ounce of energy, making a brilliant, darting diagonal run to the blind side of Maguire, eting the cross directly with a sliding, first-ti shot!
The ball nestled firmly into the bottom right corner of the net, leaving De Gea rooted to the spot!
2-2!!!
Clive Tyldesley: "AGUEROOOOOOOOO!!! HE HAS EQUALIZED AT THE DEATH!"
Ally McCoist: "Only football can take your emotions from an extre high to an absolute low, or from a low to a high, in just one agonizing second!"
Clive Tyldesley: "People often say no one knows what will happen in the next second in this sport. Today's match has truly shown us exactly that! It feels like ti has returned to May 13th, 2012! Aguero, in his first year at Manchester City, beca the embodint of a miracle! He snatched the League Title from Manchester United's grasp with the 93:20 miracle. Could it be that today..."
Wembley Stadium was filled only with the deafening, hysterical cheers of Manchester City fans.
The Manchester United fans wore utterly pained expressions, holding their heads in their hands, their emotions plumting from a high to a crushing low in an instant.
They too were vividly reminded of their past nightmare involving that exact striker.
"Damn it, it's just the Carabao Cup. Why does it feel like the Champions League final?" Ling stared at the wildly celebrating Manchester City players by the corner flag, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead.
Finally, he added with a bitter, exhausted smile, "Aren't you guys tired?"
There wasn't enough ti left for another attack.
Probably, after they restarted the ga from the center circle, the referee would imdiately signal the end of the match.
To be honest, there was definitely deep disappointnt among the red shirts...
"Guys! Listen to ! We've battled Real Madrid in a penalty shootout, and that was the Champions League final!" Ling shouted at the top of his lungs, clapping his hands.
"Don't be afraid at all. Just go for it!"
However, the effect wasn't great.
The Manchester United players remained visibly dejected by the late equalizer.
Looks like it's up to again, Ling rubbed his temples and rallied his own spirits.
Tweet! Tweet! TWEET!!!
Just as Ling had thought, when the ball was kicked out of play by Manchester City seconds after the restart, the referee imdiately blew his whistle for full-ti!
All the players from both sides collapsed onto the turf, their chests heaving like bellows.
Tired... They all shared the exact sa thought.
...
After a while, the players from both teams gathered in their respective technical areas.
Mourinho asked in a serious, quiet tone, "Who is willing to take the first penalty?"
In last season's Champions League final, Zlatan Ibrahimovic had bravely stepped up.
And this ti?
"Boss, I'll go," Ling raised his hand without a second of hesitation, speaking in an extrely relaxed, confident tone.
Mourinho nodded gratefully.
The first penalty taker had far too much impact on a team's overall morale, and with several veterans having been substituted off, the one he trusted most in the world was still Jeremy Ling.
With Ling boldly setting the example, Mahrez, Kante, David Luiz, and Nemanja Matic also stepped forward to volunteer.
"If you don't know which direction to shoot, just aim for the dead center, because goalkeepers often won't stand still—it would make them look like fools if they didn't dive!" De Gea repeated the exact advice he had given during the Champions League final in Kyiv.
"David, is there a possibility..." Ling said with a teasing smile, "...that Manchester City is thinking the exact sa thing?"
De Gea was montarily stunned upon hearing this logic.
'You little rascal, you dare disturb my focus right before a shootout?!'
"Alright, let say a few final words to you lads." Ling regained a deadly serious expression, pointing toward the distant goal where the shootout would take place.
"All penalty takers and goalkeepers are fighting against their own inner selves right now. Only those who completely conquer their inner selves are truly strong. So, follow your instincts, and don't overthink it for a second!"
After speaking, Ling extended his right hand into the center of the huddle and roared, "Manchester United, victory!"
The Manchester United players stacked their hands on top of his one by one, their eyes regaining their fire.
"MANCHESTER UNITED, VICTORY!"
Then they walked to the center circle, standing shoulder to shoulder, arms linked, waiting for the final mont to arrive.
Ling leisurely walked the lonely path toward the penalty spot, showing absolutely no pressure in his expression or body language.
He casually picked up the football and spun it on his fingertip several tis like a basketball player.
Clive Tyldesley: "This young man's ntality is truly unbeatable. He walks up as if he's playing in the park with his mates."
But Ederson was visibly under imnse psychological pressure on the goal line, nervously hopping from side to side in place.
Whistle. Run-up. Shot!
No stutter-step, no feints, confidently and powerfully aiming for the bottom right side.
Ederson ultimately guessed the wrong direction entirely.
1-0 United.
Ling turned back to look at his teammates on the halfway line, playfully raising an eyebrow as if to say.
"See? It's simple, just do exactly as I did."
People are always like this.
When a true leader leads by calm example, their minds won't waver.
Besides, which of Manchester United's chosen penalty takers isn't battle-hardened? Their ntal fortitude is exceptionally strong!
Ally McCoist: "Manchester City's first penalty taker is David Silva... He fools De Gea and slots it coolly into the left side!"
Clive Tyldesley: "Mahrez... Aguero... Kante... Fernandinho... All their penalties are incredibly steady! Each sending the ball into the net!"
Ally McCoist: "It all cos down to the final two rounds!"
David Luiz took a deep breath, ignored the pressure, and blasted the ball violently down the middle to score again.
He clenched his fist in passionate celebration and walked back toward his teammates in the center circle.
'I'll be a fool just this once!' De Gea thought, deciding to stand his ground.
Then he saw De Bruyne take a delicate Panenka penalty down the middle...
When De Gea easily caught the softly chipped ball in his arms without moving an inch, he heard the deafening roar of cheers from the United end!
Clive Tyldesley: "Brilliant from De Gea! He stood his ground! He read De Bruyne's mind!"
Ally McCoist: "Nemanja Matic steps up... If he can score this, Manchester United will win the Carabao Cup!"
Clive Tyldesley: "Run-up! Shot... and it's IN! MANCHESTER UNITED ARE THE CHAMPIONS!"
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