Back at the Carrington training ground, the atmosphere was one of ticulous preparation.
In the video room, the lights were dim.
José Mourinho stood before the tactics board, a laser pointer in his hand, his tone deadly serious.
"Tottenham Hotspur," he began, circling the white shapes on the screen. "They are young. They are fast. They are strong. But above all, they are relentless."
He tapped the screen. "They combine speed, skill, and physicality. They excel at a layered high press and quick transitions. If we lose the ball in the midfield, they swarm. So, rule number one: minimize the space behind our defensive line. Do not let them run."
"Their high press," he continued, "is primarily executed through aggressive double-teaming. It is physical. They hunt in packs. They close down the ball carrier from behind until they tackle or the ball goes dead."
He paused, looking around the room.
"And listen to carefully. Most of their pressing maneuvers flirt with the edge of fouls. They push, they pull, they leave a foot in. And referees... referees often overlook it because it looks like 'passion.' So do not count on the officials. Do not cry for fouls. Play through it."
Mourinho played a video clip. It showed Chelsea playing Spurs. He replayed it several tis.
"However," a small, predatory smile touched his lips. "This tactic has a fatal weakness. It is aggressive, yes. But if you bypass the first wave... the space behind them is enormous. It can be exploited with long diagonal switches to pierce their defensive line in one go!"
Jeremy Ling watched the screen intently.
In the footage, Willian evaded Dele Alli's aggressive press with a delicate feint before accurately launching a 50-yard pass to Alvaro Morata on Spurs' vulnerable flank.
"Of course," Mourinho said, his eyes settling on Ling, "this requires players to possess both technical ability and vision. And the courage to try it."
"So, our primary strategy is this: secure the central core area. Do not lose it there. Then, initiate long passes directly from deep. Bypass their midfield entirely." He moved the magnets on the board.
"Rolu and Zlatan will adopt staggered positioning. Zlatan drops deep to drag a center-back out. Rolu runs the channel."
"And at that mont," he pointed the laser at Ling, "Ling. I need you to make diagonal runs into the penalty area. Not wide. Inside. Into the kill zone."
"Rember," Mourinho concluded, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This tactic demands the highest efficiency. You will not get ten chances. You might get one. You must take it."
Ling felt the weight of expectation settle on his shoulders.
He nodded firmly.
One chance. One kill.
After the 30-minute eting concluded, the players dispersed.
Most headed for the showers or the physio room.
Ling, however, sought out Michael Carrick.
"Michael," he asked, "can we stay out? I need to work on the diagonal switch."
The veteran midfielder smiled.
"Let's go, kid."
....
Ti flew by.
It was October 28th.
Old Trafford, the Theatre of Dreams.
Today, it was a sea of people.
Red flags waved in the gray Manchester sky, and resonant chants echoed off the concrete and steel.
"Good evening, viewers! Welco to our live coverage of Premier League Matchday 10."
"It's the big one. Manchester United versus Tottenham Hotspur!"
"Before the match begins, let's review so key stats. So far this season, Manchester United have maintained a perfect ho record. Fortress Old Trafford is back. But Spurs... Spurs have secured all three points in every single away ga." Martin tyler said.
Gary Neville: "It's a clash of titans, Martin. The ho dominators versus the away kings. Sothing has to give. Regardless of the outco, one perfect record ends tonight."
Tyler: "However, history favors the Red Devils. In the last ten etings here, United have dominated with eight wins and two draws. Spurs haven't won here since 2014."
In the player tunnel, the tension was palpable, but there was also a sense of camaraderie.
Since many players from both teams were England international teammates—Rashford, Lingard, Jones, Kane, Alli, Dier, Rose—they chatted casually, exchanging handshakes and jokes.
But among the foreign stars, the mood was different.
"Zlatan," Ling whispered, nudging the giant Swede. "This is your first Premier League start this season. Nervous?"
Ibrahimović scoffed.
"Tch. Nervous? Lions do not get nervous, nino. Such emotions don't exist for ." But his eyes burned with a fervent intensity.
He was back on his stage. He would prove to the world he wasn't finished.
Beside them, Son Heung-min, the Tottenham star, scanned the surroundings.
His gaze lingered on Ling for a mont—a cool, appraising look.
The online rivalry hadn't escaped him.
Five minutes later. Led by the referee Jonathan Moss, players from both sides erged from the tunnel.
Old Trafford instantly erupted into a cacophony of noise.
A massive TIFO unfurled in the Sir Alex Ferguson Stand.
It depicted a ferocious, terrifying Red Devil, eyes glowing, towering over a cowering cockerel.
Beneath it was a line of text: "WELCO TO YOUR NIGHTMARE THEATRE!!!"
Then, 75,000 Manchester United fans united in singing "Glory, Glory Man United," filling the entire stadium with an impassioned, deafening lody.
However, the 3,000 Tottenham fans in the away corner were displeased.
Since Tottenham's anthem is also "Glory, Glory Tottenham Hotspur" (both adapted from "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"), they believed United had plagiarized their song decades ago.
Thus, every ti the United fans sang "Glory, Glory," the Spurs fans would scream "TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR" over the top, creating a chaotic, warring soundscape.
While the fans engaged in this auditory warfare, the players took their positions.
....
anwhile, across the globe, the digital world was exploding.
The LeSports live broadcast room was already packed to capacity before kick-off.
Due to extensive pre-match dia hype and the decision to make the ga free-to-air, the number of concurrent viewers had already exceeded seven million.
Even more unexpectedly, China's state broadcaster, CCTV-5, had chosen not to air the NBA ga between the Golden State Warriors and the Dallas Mavericks.
Instead, they were broadcasting Manchester United vs. Tottenham.
This ant that over ten million people across China were sitting in front of their televisions—parents, teachers, students, workers.
Zhan Jun took a deep breath, composed himself, and began his comntary for the nation.
"Now, let introduce the starting lineups!"
"In red is Manchester United. A 4-2-3-1."
"Our young talent, Jeremy Ling, starts on the left. His performances have been outstanding. Let's hope he has another great ga today!"
"In white is Tottenham, also lining up in a 4-2-3-1."
"While Tottenham may not have the galactic star nas of United, they are technically sound, physically robust, and defensively aggressive—almost like a football mirror image of the San Antonio Spurs in the NBA. Efficient, disciplined, lethal."
On the screen, comnts scrolled down like falling snowflakes.
[Go go go! China is watching!]
[Go Ling! Score a goal tonight! Show Son who is boss!]
[Crush Son Heung-min! The King of Asia title is on the line!]
[Currently both Manchester United and Manchester City are tied for first place with 25 points. If United loses this match, they'll fall behind City. These 3 points are crucial.]
[Both teams are using a 4-2-3-1. It's going to be a tactical chess match. Mourinho vs. Pochettino!]
[I can't believe CCTV dropped the NBA for this! Ling's influence is insane!]
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