Gary Neville: "Aguero's wildly waving arms seed to be telling the Old Trafford crowd that wanting to step on Manchester City to win the championship again—impossible!"
John Motson: "As long as City can simply maintain this score, the championship can only belong to us! Kick away this stumbling block called Manchester United!"
Having been brutally suppressed and pressed by Manchester United for a full fifty minutes, the Manchester City players had long been holding back their imnse frustration.
If they couldn't finally score to vent their emotions, they might have exploded like a bomb under the pressure.
Fortunately, in the intense battle of tactics and will, they finally gained the upper hand and broke the resistance.
De Bruyne perford a rare, emotional sliding celebration near the corner flag and then stood perfectly still for a mont to recover his stamina.
Although Manchester United's high-pressing system undoubtedly consud more explosive energy, the Manchester City players also ran an incredible amount.
Because elite possession-based football is a highly dynamic process that requires players to constantly make off-the-ball runs, open passing lanes, and provide structural support.
During this process, they also had to engage in draining, high-intensity duels, rapid shuttle runs, and defensive transition sprints.
So their stamina bars weren't much better either.
"Should we slow down the tempo next to control the ga?" Assistant coach Mikel Arteta inquired quietly on the touchline.
Guardiola shook his bald head lightly and said with a predatory glint in his eye, "I can feel that Manchester United is nearing their absolute limit right now. Have Leroy Sané and Ilkay Gündogan warm up intensely and be ready to co on at any ti. We need to put even more physical and technical pressure on them and aim to completely kill the ga between the 60th and 70th minutes."
Having faced Mourinho's Manchester United so many frustrating tis over the past two years, Guardiola found that this specific United team was like an unkillable, stubborn cockroach.
As long as they had any breathing room or ti left on the clock, they could unexpectedly, miraculously stand up again and hurt you.
So City had to ruthlessly finish off Manchester United in one go while they were wobbling, leaving them absolutely no chance for a late counter-attacking coback!
The more Arteta thought about it, the more he realized it made perfect tactical sense.
He thought to himself that when he becos a head coach in the future, he must also rember to finish off wounded opponents with a single, decisive blow.
Down on the touchline, warming up.
"Leroy, you're currently four goals behind Ling in the league's Golden Boot race. There's definitely no realistic chance for you to catch up to him today in just 30 minutes," Phil Foden said, sowhat enviously, jogging next to Sané.
"But there are still three rounds left in the league. I believe you can definitely win the Golden Boot if you keep scoring!"
Sané, however, showed a deeply dissatisfied, arrogant expression. "How do you know it's not possible for to score four today? Manchester United's number 29, Wan-Bissaka, couldn't defend against my pace in the first place, let alone now that his stamina has severely declined from all that pressing. Just wait and see how I tear right through him later!"
He said this with absolute, unshakeable confidence because he truly believed he was very strong.
At Schalke 04, he was a massive teenage prodigy.
At just 19, he made his Champions League debut against Real Madrid, coming off the bench to score past the legendary Iker Casillas, becoming the youngest player to score against Real Madrid in the Champions League at the ti.
And then? That historic record was brutally broken by Ling.
After transferring to Manchester City for big money, Sané's performance was rely average at first.
But under Guardiola's ticulous coaching guidance, he exploded into incredible form and shot up the Premier League top scorers list.
Last season's PFA Premier League Young Player of the Year award—he genuinely thought he had it in the bag.
And then? Ling erged as a completely unknown dark horse, rising teorically from the youth team to the first team, from a bench substitute to a guaranteed starter, dominating from the league to the Champions League...
That resu was simply too dazzling, and Sané couldn't help but feel intense, burning jealousy.
This season, Sané had finally climbed to the very top of the scorers list, only to watch Ling effortlessly catch up step by step.
The jealousy in his heart had long been burning fiercely.
"Uh, right... then I wish you four consecutive goals today, Leroy," Foden laughed awkwardly, thinking to himself that Sané really had a massive ego problem.
Why couldn't he tell good intentions from bad? In terms of basic interpersonal skills and humility, Sané was absolutely no match for soone like Ling.
Foden silently labeled Sané as difficult in his mind.
As Manchester City completed their double substitution, bringing on fresh legs, the match resud.
Manchester United's pressing system had already completely collapsed from exhaustion.
They were now firmly pinned back deep in their own half by Manchester City's passing carousel, barely holding on with a desperate, compact defensive shape.
Anyone watching could see it clearly—could United physically hold out for five more minutes, or even ten?
Although the score was currently balanced at 2-2, the tactical scales of victory had already heavily tilted toward the blue side of Manchester.
"Boss, why aren't we making any substitutions yet to refresh the legs?" Rui Faria asked, utterly perplexed.
Manchester City had already used all three of their valuable substitutions to press their advantage, while United hadn't made a single tactical change.
This made absolutely no sense at all to the assistant!
Mourinho twisted open a plastic water bottle cap, took a big gulp, but his throat still felt parched with anxiety. "The match has only reached the 57th minute, Rui, and our pressing system has already been dismantled by their quality. Do you honestly think swapping one or two tired players now would make much of a tactical difference against this City side?"
'Not much!' Mourinho answered in his own heart.
He had to quietly admit he had slightly underestimated Manchester City's resilience today, likely due to United's own recent titles making him overconfident.
And Guardiola's brilliant innovations in possession-based tactics this season were simply ahead of their ti.
For United to actually win the match now, there was only one highly risky way—to fight fire with fire, attack against attack.
Mourinho glanced down at his leather notebook, where a simple 4-3-3 formation was roughly sketched—his secret tactical weapon.
After all, this wasn't ten years ago at Inter Milan.
Back then, they could still rely on rigidly "Parking the Bus" to hold off the tiki-taka of Pep's pri Barcelona.
If he tried that sa passive approach today against this evolved City side, forget about winning—even securing a gritty draw would be mathematically impossible.
They would eventually concede.
Of course, there were other desperate options.
Like Ling suddenly unleashing his full potential and doing sothing magical.
But was that even physically possible right now?
Mourinho looked toward the green pitch, where United's entire team had retreated deep into their own half, completely unable to even launch a basic counterattack.
Even if Ling were a literal god in the football world, he couldn't realistically break through four layers of City defense all by himself from his own half.
As for last season's famous Champions League final win against Real Madrid... Zidane didn't prioritize absolute possession, focusing instead on attacking efficiency and transitions, which generously gave United the open space and chance to pull off a miracle.
But facing Guardiola's suffocating control...
Mourinho's dark eyes held deep concern as he kept glancing anxiously at the stadium's LED scoreboard, silently counting down in his heart.
58:36
59:12
61:34
After Leroy Sané and Ilkay Gündogan ca on, Manchester City tightened their suffocating grip on the match even further.
John Motson: "United haven't managed to even touch the ball for a full four minutes! They're being completely toyed with by City's passing, forced to run back and forth endlessly chasing shadows."
Jamie Carragher: "Do United honestly think packing more tired players in the box will cover more ground?"
John Motson: "That might work against weaker, less technical teams, but it's utterly aningless against City, because every single City player is involved in the attacking phase."
Gary Neville: "You can see even their left-back Zinchenko has pushed right up into central midfield!"
John Motson: "United fans better pray their exhausted players don't make a single mistake, or they'll face a piercing City attack that will end the title race!"
John Motson was practically dancing in his seat with excitent.
In the 63rd minute, De Bruyne keenly noticed that United's veteran left-back, Young, was visibly struggling with his stamina and began ruthlessly intensifying attacks down that specific flank.
After receiving the ball, Bernardo Silva didn't even look for a pass—he charged aggressively straight at Ashley Young.
He was going to physically tear United's defense apart with his individual skill!
No fancy tricks, just devastating changes of pace and sudden stops.
Young wasn't as clumsy as Maguire.
Without a second thought for the rules, he cynically brought down Bernardo Silva with a professional foul, refusing to let him get past into the box.
A yellow card simply didn't matter at this point—he was completely gassed and about to be substituted anyway.
From a distance on the opposite wing, Leroy Sané complained loudly to De Bruyne, "Can you look for more often?! I keep making brilliant runs into space, but you guys always attack down the right, and it's not even working!"
Sané was getting highly impatient!
After all, there wasn't much ti left in the ga.
He didn't necessarily need to score four goals today—one or two crucial derby goals would be totally acceptable to grab the headlines.
Otherwise, how could he definitively prove he was better than Ling?
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