Football Dynasty

Anfield holds the most intimidating home atmosphere in the entire Premier League. Arsenal fans have long been labeled as rather subdued, while Manchester United's growing commercial appeal has attracted a broader, more international fanbase—sometimes at the expense of raw, local passion.

The thrilling atmosphere that once accompanied Barcelona when they trailed by two goals against a Maradona-led team a decade ago now feels like a distant memory. Other stadiums either lack the attendance figures of traditional powerhouses due to smaller capacities or suffer from lower expectations among their supporters, leading to a shortage of that resilient, motivating spirit in the stands.

After the match kicked off, fueled by the relentless roar of the Liverpool faithful, the home side's attack flowed with rhythm and purpose, consistently posing a threat.

Robertson and his two 'MI6 bodyguards' sat on the viewing platform. He quickly realized just how 'thoughtful' their hosts were—they had placed him in a seat with the worst possible view, far removed from City's substitutes' bench.

It was clear that Liverpool, perhaps even more than the FA, was wary of his influence and had taken steps to cut off his most basic means of communication with the team. So he could only grumble as he sat amidst a group of fans in red jerseys, forced to keep an extremely low profile.

England's football hooligans were notoriously infamous. Robertson didn't even want to imagine what might happen if one of the fans beside him had a few too many drinks and acted on impulse. He wasn't afraid of getting into a scuffle—what truly worried him was being reported by the two FA-appointed "bodyguards" shadowing his every move. If that happened, it could very well mark the end of his managerial career.

The last thing he wanted was to become a second Cantona—not as a player flying into the stands, but as the first caretaker manager to lose his job over a fight with the fans.

Amidst the match and the relentless cheers of the Liverpool fans, the home team's attack flowed smoothly, consistently creating threats. Even Richard in the VIP box could hear nothing but the home team fans' screaming.

Robertson opened his mouth to say something, only to realize he couldn't even hear his own voice. The atmosphere was probably much crazier than when he was seated at City's coach's seat.

"That wretched FA! And this damn Anfield security system! How can they call this a safe environment for spectators?"

With no other choice, he could only sit down and watch the match—alone, under the suspicious eyes of the people around him, like a prisoner stranded in enemy territory.

The fighting spirit at Anfield, crafted by Roy Evans—the current manager—should not be underestimated.

Although they had fallen to George Graham's Leeds, who parked the bus, the team was gradually finding its rhythm, and their attacking firepower was beginning to rival that of any team in the Premier League.

Walford, who was temporarily in charge, paced nervously along the sidelines, watching as Liverpool's fluid attacks repeatedly threatened City's goal. Young Redknapp nearly scored from a set-piece, drawing huge sighs from the supporters.

He wasn't overly worried; both Liverpool and Manchester United boasted top-tier attacking lineups. However, United's midfield this season leaned more towards defense, with players like Roy Keane and Nicky Butt, while Liverpool favored an offensive approach with Redknapp and Barnes.

Faced with such a formidable attacking setup, City had two tactical options: either deploy a double pivot to slow the opponent's tempo and focus on defense—similar to their approach against Arsenal—or engage in an all-out shootout.

That's why Robertson chose to position Van Bommel and McManaman just behind Neil Lennon—forming a compact triangle in midfield.

Typically, in away games, a more conservative approach would be the default choice. But of course, City couldn't afford to abandon attacking entirely. If they played too defensively—especially in the raucous atmosphere of Anfield—it might backfire, making the players even more nervous.

Conversely, playing at Anfield would bolster Liverpool's confidence. This back-and-forth could make the match lose its suspense from the very first second.

The only thing was his darned seating location was very unsuitable for watching the match live, or at least, it was not conducive to him watching the match with a clear thought process.

Thankfully, the trust was soon rewarded. After McManaman's wasted opportunity, City launched a quick counterattack.

Buffon kicked the ball long toward the front, where the Irishman Jason McAteer managed to head it forward. At midfield, Van Bommel intercepted and calmly passed it back to McNamara.

With their exceptional physicality, the two managed to hold off Berger, who was pressing aggressively to win the ball back. McNamara waited for his teammates to move into position and offer passing options.

Lennon quickly read the play and stepped up to support.

From left to right, City controlled possession, smoothly shifting the ball with horizontal transitions. While it wasn't the traditional English long-ball style, their short ground passes—rooted in positioning and precision—proved highly effective and difficult to defend against.

The counterattack showcased City's coordination and fluidity. From Van Bommel to McNamara, who took a few touches before passing to the retreating Lennon—who held up the play as John Barnes closed in behind him.

Lennon then played the ball to the advancing Ronaldo and made a sharp run into the box, pulling Wright and Bjørnebye out of position.

Seeing Liverpool's defensive line shift heavily to the right, Shevchenko, who had dropped deep for the final pass, spotted a golden opportunity.

BANG!

With confidence, he smashed the ball toward the left flank, targeting Ronaldo in one swift diagonal switch.

The ball flew across the field, landing perfectly in the space Liverpool had abandoned on the left as their defense had been drawn to the opposite side.

Ronaldo—whose explosive pace had tormented First Division fullbacks all of last season—reached the ball with ease. Without hesitation, he knocked it forward into the path of Larsson, who had already ghosted past Liverpool's backline.

Liverpool's Dominic Matteo turned around and could only catch a glimpse of Larsson's back. His first reaction wasn't to chase after him, but to raise his right arm, signaling to the assistant referee that Larsson had committed an offside offense.

"Offside, my ass!" Robertson shot up from his seat, a flurry of curses spilling from his mouth before he abruptly caught himself. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to erase his very existence as quickly as possible.

That was close. Too close.

Larsson sprinted down the flank with the ball, just a few strides away from Liverpool's penalty area. He glanced up and saw that the assistant referee was still running alongside him, confirming he wasn't offside. Taking another step forward, he raised his head again.

This time, he saw Phil Babb charging toward him like a madman, with McAteer and Thomas—both midfielders—also rushing to close him down.

From the viewing platform, Robertson instinctively made a cross with both his hands. Even O'Neill, watching the match from his hospital bed in Wythenshawe, did the same without realizing it.

This was the offensive strategy they had practiced over and over again: the striker would draw the defenders' attention, while the real scoring threat came from the midfielders or wingers making forward runs. Of the three midfielders, only Van Bommel played a more defensive role—both Lennon and McNamara were proficient attackers, with McNamara leaning more toward a box-to-box role.

Larsson had already pushed the ball into the center of the penalty area. It looked as if he was preparing to dribble laterally and then take the shot. Liverpool's Phil Babb—and even David James—focused entirely on his movements, completely forgetting about the other City players charging in at full speed from midfield.

He reached the middle of the box. He raised his foot… but didn't shoot. Instead, he passed the ball behind him—into a completely open space!

All of the Liverpool players had been completely fooled! As Shevchenko dashed past beside him, David James was still standing in the center of the goal.

"Andriy Shevchenko!"

Manchester City's number seven latched onto Larsson's brilliant pass at the edge of the six-yard box and fired without hesitation! The ball rocketed into the net at lightning speed!

"Goal! 1–0! Thirty-three minutes into the first half, the away team, Manchester City, takes the lead here at Anfield! It looks like City have more or less recovered from their loss at Old Trafford. They're playing aggressively in this away match and almost look like the home side instead!"

A wave of jeers from the Liverpool fans resounded throughout the stadium. As such, Robertson was unable to show the pounding excitement in his chest, and all he could do was clench both fists and place them over his head. He acted as if he were devastated—but in reality, he was quietly celebrating the goal.

Liverpool 0 - 1 Manchester City!