Football Dynasty

Upon returning to Manchester, City was greeted with enthusiastic cheers from the locals.

Calls for a place in the finals grew louder, as various local newspapers highlighted City's stunning, unbreakable run of victories. Meanwhile, Manchester United suffered a crushing defeat at Stamford Bridge in London.

After failing in their bid to retain the league title, their hopes of advancing in the Champions League now seemed to be fading.

The Fleet Street press grew increasingly skeptical about United's future, pointing out their struggles to withstand the relentless pressure of the league. The signing of Alan Shearer had been expected to strengthen the squad, yet the current situation left fans disillusioned. Now, their battle was reduced to securing second place.

With Manchester City and Arsenal ahead, United needed to give everything in the remaining matches. Failure to finish in the top two would leave them with no choice but to settle for the UEFA Cup next season.

In the weekend's league fixture, O'Neill chose to rest his key players ahead of their clash at Maine Road against Liverpool.

The stadium was packed to capacity.

This season represented City's best chance to claim the league title—especially after last year's heartbreaking FA Cup loss to Chelsea, which had allowed the London club to lift the trophy.

While waiting for Liverpool's bus to arrive, O'Neill and Mourinho stood side by side in the meeting room overlooking the street. The glass panes reflected their silhouettes against the fading light, while the noise of fans gathering outside grew louder.

O'Neill suddenly turned to Mourinho. "Do you know why I chose to rest Ronaldo and the others?"

The key players.

Mourinho's brows knitted together. He hesitated, then shook his head. He was genuinely baffled. This was Liverpool—a match that could define the momentum for the rest of the season. Yet O'Neill had benched Ronaldo, Larsson, and several of their other match-winners.

Before Mourinho could speak further, a murmur rose from the street below. A red bus emerged from the eastern road, slowly making its way through the crowd. O'Neill lifted his chin toward it.

"Watch their bus," he said quietly.

Mourinho said nothing, only followed his gaze. Perhaps this wasn't about conserving players at all.

The bus rolled past, swallowed by the roar of the fans. O'Neill's gaze lingered a moment longer, then the Liverpool players began stepping off the bus.

To this day, Liverpool fans carried deep resentment toward City. Just a season and a half ago, the newly promoted Manchester side had traveled to Anfield for their first encounter. Since then, Liverpool had suffered four straight defeats against them, the most recent being a humiliating exit in the League Cup.

And the reason?

It was right there, plain in front of them.

The bus hissed to a halt. The doors folded open with theatrical slowness. One by one, the Liverpool players descended. But this wasn't the focused, battle-hardened procession Mourinho expected before a high-stakes match.

"What the..." Mourinho was dumbfounded.

Robbie Fowler was first out, sharp suit pressed, sunglasses perched casually on his face as though he were stepping onto a runway, not into Anfield's, nor maine road cauldron. Behind him came Jamie Redknapp, immaculate in tailored navy, flashing a grin for the cameras. Stan Collymore followed, swagger in every stride, while David James adjusted his designer coat as though the pitch were secondary to the photographers.

They didn't look like footballers bracing for war. They looked like celebrities arriving at a premiere.

"See?" O'Neill murmured. "They call them the Spice Boys for a reason."

"Spice Boys?" Mourinho was taken aback.

O'Neill nodded, confirming it.

The Spice Boys—a group of Liverpool players dubbed so by the press after a series of off-field controversies.

The term was used in a derogatory way, implying that some of Liverpool's players were more focused on glamour, fashion, and celebrity gossip—rumours of dating pop stars included—than on winning trophies. Many believed this reputation overshadowed their achievements and contributed to the perception of underachievement in those years.

For example, Liverpool were top of the Premier League by Christmas 1996, having suffered only three defeats in the first half of the season. But by the end of January, they had been overtaken by Manchester United, who remained at the summit for the rest of the campaign. Liverpool ultimately finished 4th.

The peak of that rivalry came in the 1996 FA Cup match, which pitted Liverpool against Manchester United.

Who didn't know about the bad blood between the two Reds?

But instead of being remembered for their football, the so-called "Spice Boys" attracted major media attention—most famously for arriving at the match in matching cream Armani suits. The bold fashion statement backfired, as Liverpool went on to lose the match to their fierce rivals, Manchester United.

"When football changed: Sky TV, more money, more foreign players, advertising... overnight, we went from people who play football to superstars, you understand?" O'Neill murmured beside Mourinho.

This is the fact of what happened in the football world. In fact, it was only the start, and the future would be even worse. Journalists were given lots of power, and we became more accessible. It was easier to judge players; if you weren't winning, they would try to find out why.

O'Neill turned around and muttered, "Let's go."

Mourinho gave a small nod. Without another word, he rose and followed O'Neill out.

With this kind of opponent, both of them were confident that City would sweep Liverpool aside with ease.

This season, despite the off-field chaos surrounding some of their star players, there remained a semblance of dignity in Liverpool's football.

In their first meeting of the season, Liverpool had put on an impressive show at home. Yet, from a competitive standpoint, they still hadn't found the key to containing Manchester City's attacking prowess and impenetrable defense.

"Welcome back to the Premier League! The upcoming match is the highlight fixture of this round, with Manchester City hosting the Reds from Liverpool. If Liverpool wants to keep the title race alive, they must take down City here. But over the past few seasons, Liverpool have shown intent to compete for the title, only to fade midway through the season. This year is no different—they not only sit 13 points behind City but also trail Leicester City, Manchester United, and Arsenal, with Aston Villa and Leeds United chasing them from behind. If they cannot make their mark in the second half of the season, Liverpool could miss out on European competition altogether."

"Martin, do you think Liverpool can escape with a win here? Given their record of three consecutive losses in the league, most Liverpool fans seem pessimistic about this match."

"Andy, I don't think the match is over before it starts. In the first encounter this season, it was a thrilling contest. If Liverpool hadn't conceded two goals in the last ten minutes, they could have at least forced a draw against an otherwise unstoppable City."

When O'Neill and Mourinho entered the pitch, the crowd erupted in cheers. Their presence alone gave hope to City supporters, who dreamed of seeing their club lift the Premier League title for the first time.

On the sidelines, Mourinho took his place on the bench, carefully studying the starting elevens of both teams.

For City, Gianluca Zambrotta, Lúcio, Gallas, and several non-regulars players were handed starts, while Joan Capdevila was left out of the squad after experiencing discomfort in training. In his place, William Gallas was drafted in as an emergency right-back.

In midfield, Mark van Bommel, Hidetoshi Nakata, Jay-Jay Okocha, and Robert Pirès were selected, while up front, Andriy Shevchenko partnered Thierry Henry.

On Liverpool's side, most of the names were familiar. David James started in goal, with Rob Jones and Phil Babb in defense.

Babb, a stalwart for the Republic of Ireland, had earned recognition years earlier when his side stunned Italy in the World Cup. Jones, meanwhile, was a product of Liverpool's youth academy. Manager Roy Evans appeared to have finally lost patience with Neil Ruddock's erratic performances, opting instead for his homegrown defender.

While Mourinho was fully absorbed in analyzing tactics, O'Neill made his way toward the Liverpool bench, where he extended his hand to Roy Evans.

The current Liverpool manager, Evans had once served as head coach of the club's reserve team. At the time, the reserves were effectively an extension of the youth squad, with the primary focus on player development.

Under Evans's guidance, Liverpool's reserves broke numerous records that few have come close to matching. Even though these were only reserve fixtures, the achievements carried real weight within the club.

More importantly, many of the players he nurtured during that period would later step up to the senior side, forming part of the squads that, under Bob Paisley—Bill Shankly's successor—went on to win three European Cups. From that perspective, Shankly's famous words didn't seem entirely exaggerated:

"There are two great teams on Merseyside: Liverpool, and Liverpool's reserve team."

At first glance, it might sound boastful, and to most people—perhaps 99%—it was little more than bravado. But in light of Evans's legacy with the reserves, the statement carried a kernel of truth.

After shaking hands with Roy Evans, O'Neill made his way toward Evans's assistant, Hugh McAuley, who also served as Liverpool's head of youth development.

McAuley had an interesting background. Originally brought to the club under Bill Shankly, he never achieved much success as a player. Instead, he turned his focus to coaching, spending years studying tactics and training methods. His persistence paid off, and under Kenny Dalglish, he was appointed to oversee Liverpool's youth system, where he dedicated himself to developing young talent.

The Liverpool side that took the field in 1996 was, in many ways, a product of McAuley's careful guidance.

O'Neill had once even considered recruiting McAuley as his assistant manager after John Robertson resigned the previous year. However, Richard had firmly declined that idea.

Truth be told, O'Neill greatly respected McAuley's philosophy on player development, which contrasted sharply with the traditional English approach. McAuley didn't place undue emphasis on physical strength or hard tackling. Instead, he prioritized refining technical ability while also focusing on a player's moral character. If he detected flaws in a player's integrity, he refused to work with them—no matter how gifted they were.

It was precisely this uncompromising philosophy that made O'Neill value McAuley so highly, but since Richard was leaning more toward Mourinho, his hands were tied.

"Good to see you," O'Neill greeted with a handshake before heading back toward the City bench, where he noticed Mourinho frowning deeply.

"What's wrong, José?" he couldn't help but ask.

Bending down, Mourinho leaned closer and muttered, "Why isn't Owen in Liverpool's starting lineup? Wasn't he the striker you warned me about? And where's the boy Steven Gerrard you told me to watch?"

As he scanned Liverpool's team sheet again, Mourinho felt a twinge of doubt.

O'Neill had spoken highly of the young striker Michael Owen, but to his surprise, the teenager was left on the bench while Robbie Fowler was given the starting role up front.

Mourinho at City wasn't just a coach focused on training the team—he also studied opponents meticulously. His role involved observing and scouting promising talents while building relationships in advance.

If he could sign them, all the better; if not, it was still valuable to maintain friendly ties and expand his network. That was why he was particularly curious to see what such a prodigy had in store today.

"I think Evans will use Fowler to spearhead their attack," O'Neill said.

When he heard that, Mourinho glanced toward Fowler, but his expression betrayed a flash of disappointment he couldn't quite hide.

'Isn't this the same guy who chose celebrity over football?' Mourinho muttered to himself, his sarcasm sharpened by what he had just seen earlier in Liverpool's bus parking area.

For Mourinho, the stronger the team City faced, the more it allowed him to refine and perfect his counter-attacking system. To be honest, he would have preferred Liverpool to field their absolute best—it was only by testing themselves against the strongest that City could grow sharper.

He shook his head, brushing the thought aside.

Countless gifted players never fulfill their potential—a reality far more common than most realize. The success rate in professional football is astonishingly low. Even natural talent requires the right environment to flourish; external circumstances and inner qualities alike play decisive roles in shaping a player's destiny.

Some surrender too easily, others are undone by injuries. Some are mismanaged by coaches, while others are lost in teams that stifle their style.

At crucial junctures, a single step can alter everything. Hard work alone is never enough. Those who succeed carve out brilliant futures; those who falter fade quietly into obscurity.

As the match kicked off, both sides played with elegance and intent. Their football emphasized tactical sophistication rather than the brute force typical of the English game. Physical clashes were minimal; instead, teamwork and individual brilliance shone through—illuminating the contest with a different kind of intensity.