Matchday 36, Premier League 2014-15
Manchester City vs QPR
Venue: Etihad Stadium
The morning broke over Manchester in a steely mist, but at the Etihad Stadium, the skies looked electrified with expectation. The City squad had returned to training just two days after their dramatic Champions League semi-final victory in Berlin – but today, the Champions League belonged to the past. Ahead lay the final three fixtures of the Premier League campaign, and the first of those against QPR in Round 36 carried its own weight of destiny.
Inside the sprawling training complex at the CFA Carrington, players moved with purpose. The atmosphere was serious, but beneath that lay a lightness – a collective sense that history was just one game away. At the center of everyone's minds was one man: Adriano. The 19-year-old Portuguese phenom had scored 34 Premier League goals already—equaling the all-time record held by Alan Shearer. And on his home pitch, in front of tens of thousands of familiar faces, he had the chance to become the player who broke the record forever.
In the warm-up grid to the south pitch, Joe Hart laughed with Philipp Kompany, his glove slapping the Belgian's shoulder as they jogged together in a light-hearted relay. Edges of tension melted away in that moment of camaraderie. Across the field, Adrian Toure's Czech-born younger brother (Kovac) jogged in circles around midfield, while David Silva and Kevin De Bruyne ran passing drills in that familiar City pattern: one-twos, first-touch triangles, flicks, with Adriano in between them, floating free, smiling.
Between sprints, Silva leaned over to Whisper to Adriano:"Stay calm. One touch, one chance—just like in Dortmund."
Adriano grinned, towel over his shoulder:"I've had worse afternoons than today, hermano. Just look at these banners."
A glance across the pitch revealed them: fans camped outside since dawn, signs held aloft reading: "Record Breaker", "Adriano 35", and sketches of him mid-celebration. Dozens of placards featured his half-cartwheel, half-celebration from the semi-final night, dominant and proud.
Pellegrini brought the squad together for final tactical adjustments. The message was clear: full strength, full focus, full control."Hart in goal. Fullbacks – wide, calm – you've done this before. Kompany and Hummels, keep them tight," he instructed."Silva and De Bruyne, control the rhythms. Adriano, Sahalh, Hazard – stretch them, move them, find the runs."Forward was Sergio Aguero.
Pellegrini's eyes lingered on Adriano as he spoke:"Today, all eyes on you, but do what you always do. Play for the team. Goals will come."
Adriano nodded once, quietly intense, and jogged back into the drill.
****
It was an overcast spring afternoon in Manchester, but no one at the Etihad Stadium seemed to mind. From early morning, fans had started trickling into the surrounding streets, hours before the gates would even open. By noon, the blue half of Manchester had flooded the area like a tide of hope and expectation. It wasn't just a league match—it was a potential moment of history. One goal away. Just one.
Adriano stood on the brink of immortality.
With 34 Premier League goals to his name already, the young Portuguese maestro had drawn level with Alan Shearer's long-standing record. Now, in matchweek 36, with three league games still left to play, he had the opportunity to break it. Fans didn't just expect a goal—they had come to witness a coronation.
As the City team bus rolled into the stadium complex, supporters erupted in song. Chants of "Adriano! Adriano!" echoed off the walls. Blue smoke bombs flared, flags waved wildly, and every second person seemed to be holding up something dedicated to their record-chasing talisman. Some fans held signs reading "History in 90 Minutes," others waved life-size cardboard cutouts of Adriano in his No.10 shirt. One group had come wearing gold crowns, shouting, "Crown the King today!"
Inside the tunnel, there was a focused intensity among the City players. The usual handshakes and half-jokes were replaced with quiet murmurs and glances between teammates. Adriano stood by the wall, earbuds in, head tilted back, eyes closed, breathing calmly. He knew what this match meant—not just for the club, not just for the record—but for everything he had endured to get here.
"Big day, huh?" Kevin De Bruyne grinned, patting him on the back.
Adriano opened one eye and smirked. "Just another game, right?"
"Sure," said Silva, walking past. "Just with 60,000 people waiting to see if you break the Premier League."
As the teams emerged from the tunnel, the roar was deafening. Martin Tyler's voice rose over the broadcast feed:
"Good afternoon from the Etihad Stadium. It's matchday 36 in the Premier League—but for Manchester City fans, today is about far more than three points. Adriano stands on the brink of history. One more goal, and he will break the all-time record for goals scored in a Premier League season."
Alan Smith joined in, his tone measured but full of awe. "It's been a phenomenal campaign for City. They've already secured the title. They're through to the Champions League final. But this… this feels different. This is personal—for the fans, for Adriano, for football history. And make no mistake, QPR know exactly what kind of storm they've walked into."
The stadium was packed to the rafters. The fans had created a sea of sky blue, banners draped over the lower tiers with slogans like "Make History Today" and "#AR10." Others simply held signs with a number: "35?"
Pellegrini had named a full-strength lineup, making it clear that no rotation would interrupt the moment. The usual 4-3-3 formation was in place, with Hart in goal. Kimmich and Robertson provided the width at full-back, while Kompany and Hummels stood like sentinels in the centre of defense. De Bruyne and Silva, ever the creative duo, sat deeper in midfield. Adriano was positioned in the hole behind Aguero, with Salah and Hazard out wide. A setup built to dominate possession—and to feed the man of the hour.
"City average nearly 3 goals per game in the last 12 matches," Tyler added. "They've scored 99 goals in the league already. And guess who's had a hand in more than half of them? That man—Adriano. 34 goals, 19 assists in the league alone."
"He's already crossed 100 goal contributions in all competitions this season," said Smith. "61 goals and 39 assists. At 19 years old. Let that sink in."
As the pre-match routines wrapped up, the players went through warm-ups with visible determination. Kimmich and Silva exchanged quick passes along the touchline. Hazard was seen joking with Salah, who flicked a ball over the Belgian's head and caught it on the run. Aguero looked sharp, ripping a few shots into the top corner during shooting drills. But every eye remained fixed on one man.
Adriano stretched near the halfway line, then jogged toward the fans on the east stand side. They erupted, chanting his name with every step he took. He raised a hand to acknowledge them, then placed a fist over his chest and pointed skyward—a gesture he'd made so often it had become synonymous with moments of brilliance.
Back in the commentary box, Tyler took a breath.
"There's an electricity in this stadium today. Not tension—something deeper. It's that feeling you get when you know you might witness something you'll tell your grandkids about."
"Yeah," said Alan. "This doesn't happen often. Players come and go, records stand for decades. But every now and then, the stars align. Adriano's not chasing history—he's rewriting it."
Queens Park Rangers (5-4-1):Green; Isla, Onuoha, Dunne, Caulker, Yun; Phillips, Barton, Henry, Fer; Zamora
City lined up in their standard high-possession 4-3-3, looking to funnel as much play through the middle third to Adriano as possible. De Bruyne and Silva operated as dual #8s, pushing high to support the attack and recycle possession. Fullbacks Kimmich and Robertson pushed forward to stretch QPR's five-man back line.
QPR were playing for pride — and mathematically still for survival. Chris Ramsey's tactics were clear: sit deep, absorb pressure, and limit space. A solid bank of five at the back, two holding midfielders sitting just in front, and virtually no commitment to attacking transitions. Zamora was isolated up top.
In the QPR dugout, the visiting players exchanged nervous glances. Their manager had reminded them in the dressing room to treat it like any other match, but as they looked up at the faces surrounding them, it became clear—this wasn't any other match.
The referee blew the whistle. Teams took their positions. And as Adriano jogged toward the centre circle, the stadium held its collective breath. Phones were already out, fans ready to capture a potential historic moment with shaky fingers and hopeful hearts.
And then, over the stadium PA, the announcer called out the teams one final time.
"Starting for Manchester City… NUMBER TEN… ADRIANO!"
The roar that followed shook the Etihad to its core.
It wasn't just noise.
It was belief.
It was history waiting to be written.
And everyone knew—they weren't here for a result.
They were here for a legacy.
*****
From the moment the referee blew the whistle, it was clear what this match meant. The Etihad Stadium was a cauldron of noise, an entire city rising behind one man. Adriano, standing just behind the halfway line, adjusted his armband, glanced up at the packed stands, and gave a small nod. He was on 34 Premier League goals — level with Alan Shearer. One more, and history would be rewritten.
"It's not just a match, it's a moment," said Martin Tyler as the cameras zoomed in on Adriano's focused face. "You can feel the electricity, Alan."
Alan Smith chuckled, "You'd think it's a cup final, Martin. But this is what one goal means when you're chasing immortality."
Manchester City started on the front foot, asserting complete control of possession within minutes. QPR, already safe from relegation but without much motivation, dropped into a deep 5-4-1 block. Dunne and Onuoha were flanked by Clint Hill and Sandro, forming a tight wall of white at the back. But that wall was under siege from the start.
In the 3rd minute, De Bruyne played a delicate diagonal to Salah on the right. The Egyptian brought it down smoothly and cut inside past Yun Suk-Young. A one-two with Aguero followed, and Salah found space just outside the box. His curling shot, however, rose just over the bar.
"Early warning," Martin Tyler noted. "And you can hear the crowd—they were ready to erupt. Everything revolves around Adriano today, but Salah's first involvement nearly got them going."
In the 7th minute, Hazard switched flanks and played in Robertson on the left. The Scottish fullback drilled a low ball across the face of goal. Adriano darted across his marker at the near post, flicked it with his instep—
—and it was blocked by Dunne.
A chorus of gasps echoed through the stadium.
Alan Smith raised his voice: "That's the danger of Adriano. He just needs a glance. Dunne read it brilliantly, but he won't stop all of them."
By the 11th minute, City had recorded 78% possession. Hart stood practically at the halfway line, arms crossed, barely involved.
Then came the first real roar.
David Silva drifted centrally and spotted Adriano ghosting between the lines. A perfectly weighted ball sliced through QPR's midfield. Adriano took one touch on the edge of the box and shot low with his right foot. It had goal written all over it—until Dunne slid in again, toeing it inches wide of the post.
"Aarghhh!" the crowd groaned as one, followed immediately by applause. Everyone knew: he was close.
Hazard jogged over to Adriano. "It's coming, hermano. Keep moving."
Adriano nodded. "Just one clean look…"
From the corner that followed, De Bruyne whipped in a dangerous outswinger. Kompany soared above Hill but mistimed his header, sending it just over the bar.
QPR barely touched the ball. Joey Barton, shouting instructions and waving arms frantically, was booked in the 26th minute for a reckless slide on Silva out wide.
"That was pure frustration," said Alan Smith. "They're chasing shadows."
De Bruyne lined up the resulting free kick just outside the penalty arc. His right foot curled the ball expertly over the wall, dipping under the bar — but Rob Green stretched at full length to tip it over.
"Wonderful save," Martin Tyler praised. "Green's fingertips keep this level. But City are stacking the chances like dominos."
Another corner, this time short. De Bruyne to Silva, who clipped it into the far post. Hummels got a touch, but QPR cleared their lines through Onuoha.
By the 32nd minute, Adriano had touched the ball inside the box six times without a goal. But he wasn't rattled. If anything, he looked sharper. His next moment nearly tore the net.
He collected a pass from Silva on the half-turn just outside the D, nutmegged Karl Henry effortlessly, then unleashed a thunderous strike with his left foot.
The ball whistled past Green's outstretched arm…
…and whistled past the post.
The Etihad groaned again — and this time, many were on their feet, hands on heads.
"That was the one!" Tyler gasped.
"Half the stadium thought that was in," added Smith. "So did Green. You won't see a cleaner strike."
Adriano clapped toward the fans behind the goal, a sheepish grin on his face. Robertson jogged past and patted his back. "You'll get it. Feels like it's yours today."
In the 39th minute, a sweeping City move down the right almost unlocked the door. Kimmich exchanged passes with Salah and darted toward the byline, then clipped a ball across the six-yard box. Aguero went for the scissor kick—but Onuoha got a head to it, just before Adriano could pounce again.
"You've got to credit QPR," Alan Smith admitted. "They've defended like warriors. But how long can they keep this up?"
The final major chance of the half came in the 43rd minute. A dizzying spell of one-touch passing saw Silva and Hazard combine, slipping into the left half-space. Hazard squared it to Adriano, who dummied once, shifted to his left, and tried to thread it through a sea of legs.
But again — Onuoha slid across to block.
Martin Tyler exhaled, "This is football at its most hypnotic. But somehow… still no goal."
The halftime whistle came almost with a sense of disbelief. The scoreboard read Manchester City 0 – 0 QPR, but the story was far from flat. The crowd applauded their team off the pitch, still chanting Adriano's name as the players walked down the tunnel.
City had 79% possession. 10 shots to none. Five corners. And one player chasing a legacy.
Alan Smith summed it up perfectly: "It's a question of 'when,' not 'if.' But Pellegrini will want more vertical play. Directness. And maybe—just maybe—it's going to take something special to break this dam."
The fans stayed on their feet even during halftime, faces lit up by anticipation. They weren't watching a Premier League match.
They were watching history trying to write itself — one goal at a time.
****
The teams returned from the tunnel, and the atmosphere inside the Etihad crackled with anticipation. There was a difference in the air — the sense that something historic hovered just beyond reach.
QPR's players looked like men walking uphill with stones in their boots. Their bodies were slouched, their eyes heavy. Every movement hinted at a side aware of its fate, lost in the weight of relegation pressure.
By contrast, City emerged with intent. Pellegrini had sent them back out unchanged. No reason to alter the formula — City had dominated the first half with 78% possession, 10 shots to none, and waves of attacking pressure. The only thing missing was a goal. More specifically — the goal.
The stadium sang as one, "Blue Moon" rising like a battle hymn. Flags waved. Scarves spun above heads. Dozens of signs throughout the crowd bore the same words:
"ONE MORE FOR THE RECORD."
Adriano jogged out last. Calm. Focused. He wore the look of someone who knew destiny waited in the next forty-five minutes — not in fanfare, but in execution. No nerves. Just clarity.
"He's starting to drift a bit deeper now, Martin," Alan Smith noted as the second half kicked off. "Trying to find those gaps in front of QPR's back five. It's clever — pull them out, make space for runners behind."
"Yes, and it's drawing defenders to him like moths to flame," Tyler replied. "But that's exactly the kind of gravity he brings. The whole stadium is waiting for one name tonight — Adriano."
City took control immediately. Kompany stepped into midfield like a seasoned conductor. Silva and De Bruyne dictated tempo like twin pistons. Salah hugged the right touchline; Hazard alternated between hugs and stabs through the middle. Every movement was deliberate, every pass urgent but measured. The pressure mounted.
In the 52nd minute, the first close call came. Salah found space down the right, cut inside past Yun, and fizzed in a cross. Adriano, alive and alert, darted near post and met it with a glancing heel flick — the ball slapped the outside netting.
For a split second, the stadium gasped — half of it thought it had gone in.
"Just wide!" Martin Tyler exclaimed. "So cheeky. That's the kind of thing only he tries."
Alan chuckled. "And the kind of thing that usually works."
QPR were unraveling. Clint Hill barked instructions. Barton flailed his arms. Green shouted from his box, trying to reset their shape, but the line wavered like it was barely hanging on.
In the 56th minute, QPR nearly stole the lead. A rare clearance led to a loose ball in midfield. Charlie Austin spun and fired from distance — Hart leapt full stretch and parried it wide.
"That would've turned the stadium upside down," said Smith. "Great awareness by Hart. Cold for 55 minutes and still alert."
But the moment was coming.
The 59th minute.
QPR were pinned once more. Barton, flustered and turning blind under pressure from Silva, played a soft sideways pass — it was a gift. De Bruyne pounced.
"That's loose from Barton... and De Bruyne's onto it!" Martin Tyler barked, rising with the crowd.
De Bruyne exploded into space. He took three touches forward. Hazard darted left. Salah sprinted right. But KDB didn't look at either.
He saw Adriano.
The Brazilian was already moving — a perfectly timed ghost-run into the right channel, slipping past Hill unnoticed.
De Bruyne shaped the ball perfectly. Curved, weighted, spinning backward just enough to slow into Adriano's stride.
The Etihad began to rise in slow motion.
"He's through!" Tyler shouted. "It's Adriano!"
Green raced out of his box, desperate to close the angle.
Adriano's first touch was velvet. He let the ball kiss his boot, just enough to roll it inside the line. Then came the faint. A soft drop of the shoulder to the right — Green committed.
And that was all it took.
Now near the edge of the six-yard box, the angle was nearly gone. Two QPR defenders were sliding back toward the line. But Adriano had already decided.
With his left foot, he scooped the ball gently — it rose in a perfect arc, just enough to float over Onuoha's foot and drop into the top left corner of the net.
Time paused.
Then came the eruption.
📣 "GOAL FOR MANCHESTER CITY! NUMBER 10 — ADRIANO!"
Tyler's voice rang out, nearly drowned beneath the explosion of the crowd.
"He's done it! He's done it! The record is broken! That's goal number thirty-five in the Premier League this season! Adriano stands alone — at the very top! Alan Shearer's record — gone!"
Alan Smith was shouting now, unable to contain the emotion. "That finish! The audacity! That angle! That composure! Nineteen years old, and this is how he writes history?"
Adriano didn't sprint. He didn't scream. He walked slowly to the corner flag, then dropped to his knees. Arms out. Head back. Eyes closed, feeling the atmosphere.
The entire stadium was on its feet. The crowd roared in unison as soon as the ball went in , "The King Is Here!"
Silva got to him first, leaping onto his back. "You bloody legend!" he roared in his ear.
Aguero followed, gripping Adriano's face: "You've done it, hermano! You've done it!"
Robertson pounded his chest, yelling to the crowd: "That's HIM! That's our number ten!"
Hart sprinted the length of the pitch just to join the pile.
On the touchline, Pellegrini clapped, slow and deliberate. The corners of his mouth lifted. He didn't shout, didn't jump. But the gleam in his eyes said it all.
In the crowd, chaos.
Phones rose into the air. Flags waved like storms. Children cried. Grown men screamed into the sky.
A homemade cardboard sign was lifted by a teenager in the third row:"I SKIPPED SCHOOL FOR HISTORY."
And in the front row, Kate was in tears, both hands over her mouth, shaking with joy. Her voice cracked as she yelled through the chaos:"I TOLD YOU ALL! He's the best in the WORLD!"
Chants began from the South Stand:
🎵 "He dances through the field
Painting our dreams
Adriano Riveiro
he's our king!"
🎵
The restart was delayed. The crowd wouldn't calm. City players surrounded Adriano, still kneeling, still soaking in the moment.
The scoreboard flickered:
MCI 1 – 0 QPR (59')Scorer: Adriano
The record was no longer a dream. It was fact.
Adriano now held the Premier League goal record. 35. At just 19 years old.
***
Adriano's 35th Premier League goal had not only broken Alan Shearer's iconic record, it had done so with elegance and composure only few could even dream of. The young Superstar's name echoed from every corner of the ground. The fans weren't just watching — they were singing it into legend.
With the record-breaking goal in the 59th minute, a weight had lifted off Manchester City's shoulders. The Etihad, which had held its collective breath for nearly an hour, now roared with a kind of joyous disbelief. The singing resumed louder than before — not with anxiety, but with triumph. The name on every tongue was the same.
"Adriano! Adriano!"
Pellegrini, his arms calmly folded on the sideline, allowed himself a rare smile as he turned toward his bench. The tension was gone — the mission had been fulfilled, but there was still football to play. The crowd didn't want the team to slow down, and neither did City.
On the pitch, the players now looked relaxed. Kompany and Hummels began stepping higher into QPR's half, joining the build-up more frequently. Kimmich and Robertson were practically wingers now, enjoying the freedom of the flanks as QPR dropped deeper and deeper, weary and broken.
In the 71st minute, Pellegrini made the first change. Aguero, having run himself into the ground despite not scoring, jogged off to a standing ovation. He clapped the fans on all sides before embracing Pellegrini on the touchline.
Harry Kane trotted on, full of energy, nodding at Adriano as he passed him.
"You're unbelievable, man," Kane grinned.
Adriano gave a sheepish shrug. "Let's get you one now."
Two minutes later, Pellegrini made his second switch. Salah was replaced by James Milner, who brought his usual energy and discipline to the wing. City's shape remained the same — 4-3-3 — but with less frantic urgency now, more controlled dominance.
"They're stroking it around with confidence now," observed Martin Tyler. "This is the rhythm of a team that knows it's already written the script."
Alan Smith added, "And QPR — they've run out of legs. Their press is gone. It's survival mode for them."
Then came the 77th minute — and the goal that sealed the result.
Adriano dropped deep to receive the ball just behind the halfway line. Hill and Barton were slow to close him. With a casual flick of his heel, he wrong-footed both and turned to drive at the backpedaling defense.
The crowd leaned forward.
"Here he goes again…" Martin Tyler's voice rose.
Adriano feinted left, forcing Onuoha to shift his body, then slid the ball to the right, threading it through the smallest channel — a pass only the truly gifted would see.
Harry Kane was already on his bike, ghosting between the lines. He took one immaculate touch to settle, then buried a low drive into the bottom left.
📣 "GOAL FOR MANCHESTER CITY! NUMBER 18 — HARRY KANE!"
Kane sprinted toward the corner flag, arms outstretched, pointing straight back at Adriano as he slowed to a jog.
The cameras caught Kane tapping the number "10" on his back, mouthing: "It's all you, bro."
City fans chanted even louder now: "OHHHHH, ADRIANO! KING OF THE ETIHAD!"
Alan Smith laughed on commentary. "Well, Martin, he's up to 40 assists now in all competitions. And tonight, he's made it look effortless."
Tyler replied, "A striker scoring, and still the loudest cheer is for the assist. That tells you everything about what Adriano means to this club — and to this league."
QPR looked shattered. Even their goalkeeper, Rob Green, was shaking his head. Hill yelled in frustration at the midfielders. Barton barked at the ref over a phantom foul. But the fight was gone. The inevitability of defeat — and relegation — loomed large.
City, meanwhile, were putting on a show.
In the 83rd minute, De Bruyne nearly added his name to the scoresheet, rifling a shot from outside the box after a clever one-two with Silva. It whistled just over the bar, brushing the top netting. The crowd gave a respectful cheer — they knew it was close.
"De Bruyne's been brilliant today," said Smith. "The engine behind so many of City's best moves. You'd be forgiven for forgetting how important he's been with all the spotlight on Adriano."
By the 85th minute, Pellegrini called off the dogs. He gestured to Casemiro, but then looked at the bench and waved him back down. No need. QPR weren't coming back.
The final goal came just before the 89th.
City had recycled possession again. Hummels passed short to Milner, who flicked it toward Silva. The ball bounced once — and no one closed down.
"He's in acres!" cried Tyler.
Silva looked up. Measured. And curled.
The ball bent from 30 yards out, dipping just in front of Rob Green. The keeper stretched but lost footing on the turf — the ball skipped under him and into the back of the net.
📣 "GOAL FOR MANCHESTER CITY! NUMBER 21 — DAVID SILVA!"
The Etihad crowd gave a long, warm cheer. Silva turned toward the fans, arms raised, soaking in the appreciation. It wasn't just the goal — it was the years of loyalty, the orchestration, the subtle brilliance that had underpinned City's evolution. And tonight, he had his name in lights too.
"They've turned on the style now," said Smith. "QPR can't live with this."
Tyler added, "That's City in full bloom. A team at its peak — confidence, chemistry, class. And it all started with the goal that made history. And everyone forgot, he had also broken the record for most assists in a season as well. What a Player to watch!"
When the final whistle went, the noise inside the Etihad was as loud as the first time Adriano's name was announced in blue.
📣 "AND THAT'S FULL TIME! ADRIANO MAKES HISTORY, AND CITY WIN COMFORTABLY!"
As the players gathered to shake hands, there was only one name being chanted.
"Adriano! Adriano!"
The announcer's voice crackled once more across the speakers.
📣 "Tonight, you witnessed history. Adriano: 35 Premier League goals — the new all-time single-season record holder. 27 assists in Premier League, and 40 in the season, Those are also the highest numbers ever for any footballer. Adriano Riveiro, our King. Manchester City — your champions."
On the pitch, Adriano tried to slip away from the limelight, but his teammates wouldn't allow it.
Kane and Silva dragged him back toward the center circle. Kimmich pulled his jersey and shouted, "Say something, you shy goat!"
Hart jogged over, laughing. "What now, kid? 40 next season?"
Adriano just smiled, winded, cheeks flushed, as he looked around the stadium still roaring his name.
Pellegrini approached him, calm as always, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
"You made the impossible normal," he said softly.
Adriano looked up at the fans — waving, screaming, crying, and chanting for him like a hero of myth — and just nodded.
He hadn't just broken a record.
He'd carved his name into history.
They had come for a match.
They got history.
*****
Current Stats of Adriano:
Premier League
Matches: 26
Goals: 35
Assists: 27
Current top scorer of the Premier League, and top on the assists list.
*
Champions League
Matches: 12
Goals: 25
Assists: 11
Current top scorer and top on Assists list together with De Bruyne.
*
FA Cup
Matches: 1
Goals: 2
Assists: 2