Football Dynasty

The clash at Camp Nou ended with Manchester City securing a 3–1 victory over Barcelona, a result that gave them a strong advantage heading into the second leg in Manchester, where home support would only bolster their chances of reaching the semifinals.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Manchester United had a far less convincing evening. Their quarter-final tie against French giants AS Monaco finished in a tense 0–0 draw.

Jean Tigana's Monaco were disciplined and well-organized at the back, frustrating United's attack. Though Ferguson's men looked threatening on the counter, they ultimately failed to find a breakthrough.

The victory against Barcelona felt like breaking open a long-sealed dam, unleashing a flood of attention and recognition upon Manchester City. Almost overnight, the club became a magnet for commercial interest.

Miss Heysen suddenly found herself declining an endless stream of advertising and sponsorship offers—luxury goods, fashion clothing, or watches. Well, Armani had already secured a deal, so Richard dared not accept anything further just yet.

Still, he couldn't deny it: defeating Barcelona had far exceeded the expectations of the companies desperate to partner with his club and players.

"I think it's better to let the players have some freedom in this, right?" Marina suggested during a meeting with Richard and Miss Heysen. "Restricting them too much could prevent them from securing good deals. Plus, it only increases our brand exposure."

Miss Heysen, however, remained cautious. "But don't you think this could distract the players?" she asked, unable to hide her concern.

For the moment, they turned down everything. Her reasoning was simple: the team needed to stay focused on the pitch, not on flashy endorsements. If one player began showing off branded deals, others might follow—and soon enough, City risked becoming another version of Liverpool's notorious "Spice Boys."

Marina shook her head, unconvinced. She pointed out that club sponsorships were entirely different; they were negotiated and managed directly by the club, not by individual players. Personal sponsorships, on the other hand, were typically handled by the player or his agent.

However, as everyone knew, personal commercial sponsorships still had limitations. Players were required to wear the club's kit and official sponsor gear in matches, training sessions, and official events—they had no choice in that matter. In other words, clubs often restricted conflicting sponsorships.

To be honest, the trend was already changing—she could see it clearly.

Unlike in the 1980s, when most sponsorships were directed solely at clubs, the 1990s marked the rise of players as global brands in their own right. Diego Maradona, Eric Cantona, and even the young David Beckham proved that a single player could attract international sponsors, sometimes rivaling the value of the club's own deals.

Her instinct told her that the future of football lay in clubs learning to balance the freedom of individual player sponsorships with the demands of their own commercial obligations.

Richard was silent as she listened to the two arguments.

To be honest, he didn't oppose his players taking advertising contracts—as long as they maintained discipline, arrived on time for training, and approached practice with full seriousness. If their performances on the pitch opened doors for off-field revenue, the club was more than happy to see them benefit.

For example, both Ronaldo and Larsson had personal sponsorship deals with Armani for luxury goods. Their growing commercial influence didn't just elevate their own profiles—it also reflected positively on Manchester City's image.

"Hmmm..." Richard rubbed his hand on his chin.

Compared to the discussions among the three earlier, Manchester City's next game loomed large—a rescheduled match against Arsenal, whose manager was enduring a rough spell in London.

Previously, due to fixture congestion and competition commitments, a domestic match for Manchester City had been postponed. Their rescheduled opponents were none other than North London's Arsenal.

The fixture was set for Wednesday evening, and O'Neill attended the press conference the night before. After finishing a training session with the players, he held a pre-match meeting in the hotel's tactical conference room, arriving still in his blue tracksuit without bothering to change.

As the reporters watched with keen interest, one raised a hand to pose a question just as O'Neill finished his water.

A columnist from The Sun, known for stirring up eye-catching topics, interjected. "Mr. O'Neill, what are your thoughts on replays for draws in the FA Cup? Have you considered suggesting reforms to the FA?"

O'Neill didn't respond to the question. Instead, after taking a sip of water to clear his throat—having already spoken at length about the upcoming clash with Arsenal in the team meeting—he shifted the focus back to the match.

He emphasized how much he valued this rescheduled fixture. Unlike most teams whose tactics remained largely unchanged even with player rotations, Arsenal stood out. Their core structure hadn't altered much, but their style of play had undergone a revolutionary transformation. O'Neill wanted his players to understand that this was no longer the "boring Arsenal" of old.

"Have you considered them your rivals—especially since, unexpectedly this season, they currently sit above Manchester United in the table?"

O'Neill remained composed as he replied, "I say this because my judgment isn't influenced by personal relationships as manager. Based on their performances, Arsenal are clearly in the midst of a rebuild and are already showing signs of returning to their best. If my players and I fail to recognize Arsenal's progress and potential, we risk paying the price for underestimating them. I prefer to be direct: I only speak the truth, and every word I've said about Arsenal comes from an objective perspective."

A classic example of pre-match psychological and media tactics.

By publicly praising Arsenal and framing them as strong and dangerous, O'Neill kept his own players mentally sharp, preventing overconfidence.

At the same time, he subtly shifted some of the pressure onto Arsenal by acknowledging them as genuine contenders. This approach was especially important given that City's confidence was at an all-time high after their triumph over Barcelona.

"How about championship contenders this season?" a reporter from The Star interjected. "Are you really considering Arsenal title challengers, given they're sitting above Manchester United in the table right now?"

"Labels don't matter to me,"O'Neill replied evenly. "What matters is performance on the pitch, and Arsenal have shown enough quality to deserve respect. I don't hand out titles before they're won, but it would be a mistake to dismiss them simply because people are used to seeing United as the only challenger. Arsenal's progress is real. Whether they can sustain it until the end of the season is another question, but as of now, they've earned the right to be considered in that conversation."

After the press conference concluded, both teams immediately turned their focus toward preparing for the upcoming match.

Manchester City made just one notable change—Robert Pires, who had been a regular starter on the right flank, was replaced by Okocha.

On the other side, Arsenal, still under pressure to regain form, also lined up with their best available eleven. Arsène Wenger's men carried the weight of expectation from North London, eager to prove that their resurgence was more than just talk.

PHWEEEEE~

As soon as the match began, Arsenal retreated in full, compressing their lines into their half while maintaining clear structure. Vieira and Platt protected the central area, the five defenders created a tightly-knit defense, and Adams made wide, active runs to intercept.

Wright and Bergkamp positioned themselves one behind the other, with Bergkamp acting more like a secondary striker, playing a crucial role in organizing and scoring in the attack.

Due to Arsenal's defensive posture at the start, their numbers in midfield and defense made it difficult for Pirlo to find space going forward. Instead, he positioned himself deeper, calmly orchestrating the play like a true deep-lying playmaker.

Pirlo wasn't always the most eye-catching player on the pitch; he rarely registered direct assists or goals. Yet his absence almost always meant a clear drop in the overall quality of City's attacking play. Whenever City struggled to find a breakthrough, it was often Pirlo who, almost effortlessly, produced a subtle but vital switch—redirecting the attack toward the opponent's most vulnerable defensive areas.

In fact, much of City's attacking play last season had relied heavily on Neil Lennon. But this season, the picture was changing.

Now, the creative burden was shared more evenly—Pirlo orchestrating from deep, Zidane weaving his magic further forward, and Lennon still providing his relentless drive.

Together, they gave City multiple avenues of attack, no longer dependent on a single player to carry the load.

Zidane was busy running back and forth up front to draw attention from Vieira and Platt while Wright pressed Pirlo. Without holding onto the ball too long, Pirlo executed a quick one-two with Makélélé to create space.

Receiving the ball on the right side of midfield, he suddenly sent a precise ground through ball across to the left flank. The ball sliced through the narrow passing lane to assist Capdevila, who immediately stormed forward with pace.

At the same time, Ronaldo moved towards the flank, drawing Dixon's attention, and Zidane came forward to support. Capdevila released the ball, and ZIdane with a deft touch slipped the ball between Arsenal's fullback and center-back.

At the right moment, Larsson made a diagonal run into the box. Bould rushed in to defend, but Larsson settled the ball with a touch, then flicked it to place the ball over to the right upper corner of the Arsenal goal.

Seaeman, back on the field after his injury, leaped dramatically and managed to push the ball over the bar with a single hand.

"What a world-class save! Larsson's shot was spectacular, and Seaman's save was brilliant!"

A chorus of gasps erupted from the stands, followed by a wave of applause.

Manchester City's attack was truly a sight to behold.

Richard stood in the Marine Road director's box with his arms crossed, admiring Pirlo's influence on the game. His distribution ignited City's offense, constantly spotting weaknesses in the opponent's defense. Even more impressive were his lateral switches, which forced Arsenal's formation to shift, opening gaps. Other midfielders might manage accurate passes, but recognizing vulnerabilities on one flank from the opposite side—and then executing them—was a rarer skill.

Leisurely, Pirlo jogged over to take a corner kick, something that had become second nature thanks to his training routines. For City's set pieces, Zanetti was responsible for tactical deliveries, while Pirlo specialized in direct shots and corners.

This time, instead of swinging the ball straight into the danger zone, Pirlo played it short to Zanetti, who had slipped into space on the right. Controlling cleanly, the right-back whipped in a cross.

The sudden change in rhythm unsettled Arsenal's defense.

The delivery was dangerous, curling all the way to the far post. Arsenal's defenders had stepped up the moment the corner was taken, but when the ball was played back, they were forced to backpedal—just a fraction too late.

From the blind side, Capdevila rose powerfully and sent a thundering header toward goal.

For a brief second, it looked certain. He was ready to celebrate—until the linesman's flag went up. Offside.

Capdevila exhaled in frustration, shaking his head before jogging back toward his own half. The replay made it clear: the infringement wasn't his. Larsson, having misread Arsenal's advancing line, had strayed too early when Zanetti delivered the cross. Capdevila's timing had been perfect; his late run kept him onside. But the rules were the rules, and the goal would not stand.

Richard didn't complain. There was nothing unfair about it. Everyone played by the same laws, and sometimes, that was simply the cruel hand of football.

Even so, he had to admit it—Arsenal transitioned from defense to attack with remarkable fluidity, moving the ball out from the back. The players' runs overlapped and intertwined, resembling a graceful dance of butterflies.

Wenger-ball!

Platt shifted the ball to the advancing Vieira, who quickly found Dixon on the wing, where Bergkamp was already making a clever run. Capdevila had recovered into position, while Wright hovered between Makélélé and the defensive line, with Ray Parlour neutralized by Makélélé's tight marking.

Dixon carried the ball forward, only to be met by Zidane tracking back on the flank. Instead of attempting to beat him for pace, Dixon cut inside and passed centrally.

Vieira, however, was now under heavy pressure, boxed in by Larsson and Ronaldo. Yet there was still a target available—Tony Adams, pushing up from the back.

Just as Adams stretched to collect the pass, a foot darted in ahead of him, intercepting cleanly and launching a sudden counterattack. Adams reacted instinctively, throwing his body across the opponent to bring him down.

"Wow, Pirlo just made a defensive recovery! Not something you'd usually expect from him—but look at that awareness. Even while holding his midfield position, he tracked Adams, and when the pass came in, he stepped forward to toe-poke it away. A fantastic interception! Clearly, City had given him special instructions in the pre-match talk."

But almost immediately, Pirlo's slight frame betrayed him. Adams, with his imposing size and strength, bundled him over in the challenge.

The referee's whistle went sharp and quick—foul on Adams. Still, with the contact more a matter of strength than recklessness, there was never going to be a card. Pirlo dusted himself off, eager to take the free-kick quickly.

Adams, ever the cunning veteran, gave the ball a subtle nudge with his boot before casually jogging back into position—buying just enough time for his defense to regroup.

Pirlo scowled, forced to jog after the ball before finally setting it down to restart play.