"Beautiful!"
Martin Tyler's voice rose excitedly.
"Kaká and Hleb combine brilliantly just outside the penalty area, and that delicate chipped pass nearly sends Hleb through to open the scoring!"
Over time, Martin Tyler had almost become a Red Rebels supporter himself.
His voice could be heard on nearly every televised New Manchester United match, and the club's supporters had grown extremely fond of the famous commentator.
His bias was often obvious.
The fans loved him for it.
"We're not even three minutes into the match, and New Manchester United have already created a superb chance.
"Kaká suddenly bursts through the middle, and Millwall simply cannot cope with his acceleration.
"The chipped pass into Hleb's path had all the imagination you would expect from a Brazilian star.
"If the goalkeeper had reacted a fraction slower, Hleb would already have scored."
Tyler laughed happily.
He clearly enjoyed watching the Red Rebels play like this.
New Manchester United had been outstanding that season.
Their defence was solid, their attacks were sharp and fluid, and their control of the game's tempo had become increasingly composed.
They were an exceptionally balanced side.
It was difficult to identify an obvious weakness.
"Corner to New Manchester United.
"Juninho is standing over it.
"Both centre-backs have gone forward, and Drogba is in there as well.
"Three big men are suddenly crowding the middle of the penalty area."
Tyler laughed again.
The Red Rebels had become extremely dangerous from set pieces that season, largely because of Juninho's delivery.
"Juninho takes it...
"Drogba wins the first header and flicks it towards the far post...
"Kaká!
"Kaká scores!"
Tyler roared.
"Kaká arrives late at the far post and only has to guide it home!
"Millwall 0-1 New Manchester United!"
"Brilliantly worked.
"That was clearly rehearsed.
"Drogba has already created several goals for teammates from set pieces this season.
"Millwall were far too careless.
"They probably saw Terry, Curtis, and Drogba inside the box and assumed the delivery would be aimed directly at one of them.
"If they had studied New Manchester United's set-piece routines more carefully, they would have known those three were acting as decoys."
There was no attempt to hide the satisfaction in Tyler's voice.
"Millwall have made a serious mistake.
"You cannot afford to let the Red Rebels take the lead this early.
"We've barely played three minutes.
"Everyone knows what happens when New Manchester United build momentum.
"They have beaten Arsenal when they get going like this.
"Millwall could be in serious trouble."
The moment the ball entered the net, more than a thousand travelling supporters leapt from their seats.
They celebrated wildly despite the hostile looks coming from the surrounding Millwall sections.
Kaká pointed towards the sky, dedicating the goal to God in what had already become his familiar celebration.
Then he ran towards the away end to receive the supporters' applause.
"Kaká! Kaká! Kaká!"
His name echoed around The Den.
...
As Martin Tyler had said, once the Red Rebels gathered momentum, they became extremely difficult to stop.
That was especially true when every player had caught the same competitive fire.
It spread from one teammate to another.
The players became completely absorbed in the match.
They moved as a unit, followed Mourinho's tactical instructions, and gradually overwhelmed the opposition.
After taking the lead, New Manchester United pressed Millwall relentlessly.
Every tactical plan the home side had prepared before kick-off quickly became useless.
They were forced deeper and deeper until almost the entire team was defending inside its own half.
Millwall tried to create a compact defensive block.
That approach might have frustrated many opponents.
Against New Manchester United, however, it was proving ineffective.
The Red Rebels had Drogba's power in the centre.
They had Juninho's set-piece delivery.
They also had Kaká, Robben, and Hleb, all capable of beating defenders individually.
Simply packing the penalty area was not enough.
As their defensive structure began to crack, Millwall's players remembered their manager's instructions.
They increased the physicality.
Small fouls became more frequent, particularly against New Manchester United's front four.
Drogba barely reacted.
Minor contact meant little to him.
Kaká was also accustomed to being kicked and crowded whenever he carried the ball.
Robben found it more difficult to tolerate.
He hated the constant clips and late challenges.
Hleb was receiving the worst treatment of all.
Millwall were clearly targeting him, repeatedly going through him with heavy tackles.
"We can see Millwall returning to one of their traditional weapons," Tyler warned.
"They're committing foul after foul against New Manchester United's attacking players.
"The Red Rebels have to remain calm here.
"They cannot allow themselves to be dragged into the kind of match Millwall want."
Mourinho was shouting the same message from the touchline.
Stay calm.
Do not retaliate.
He then instructed Senna to push slightly higher and offer greater protection to the attacking players.
If Millwall wanted to keep fouling them, New Manchester United would simply force those fouls closer to goal and punish them from set pieces.
In the sixteenth minute, Millwall committed yet another foul just outside the penalty area.
By then, nobody could have counted how many there had already been.
This time, Hleb was tripped from behind.
The referee immediately awarded a free kick.
Juninho walked over and helped Hleb back to his feet.
"Don't worry," he said with a smile. "I'll get you some revenge."
Hleb flexed his ankle several times, adjusted his sock and shin pad, then looked down at the reddened skin around his foot.
"Dirty bastards.
"My whole foot's red.
"Put this one away."
Juninho gave him a reassuring gesture.
He had already taken several free kicks from similar positions that afternoon.
The contact felt clean.
The ball was coming off his foot exactly as he wanted.
He had the feeling that another goal was coming.
A short run-up.
Acceleration.
Strike.
The ball rose with almost no visible spin.
It appeared to float through the air before suddenly dropping as it approached goal.
By the time the goalkeeper realised what was happening, the ball had already dipped beyond his reach and into the net.
"0-2!"
Tyler shouted.
"Juninho scores a magnificent direct free kick!
"That is a piece of art!
"He has already scored three outstanding free kicks this season, along with one spectacular long-range effort.
"And this might be the best of the lot!"
The travelling support erupted again.
More than a thousand Red Rebels fans managed to create almost as much noise as the home crowd.
Inspired by what was happening on the pitch, their enthusiasm became even more intense.
In a distant section of the stadium, one Millwall supporter muttered angrily.
"Look at those bastards.
"They think this is Manchester."
Another snorted.
"Someone needs to remind those northerners where they are."
"Exactly.
"Let them find out what it means to come here."
...
The match continued.
With two early goals behind them, New Manchester United only became more dangerous.
Their attacking quartet was especially impressive.
The movement was fluid.
The combinations were instinctive.
The players constantly exchanged positions, making it extremely difficult for Millwall to maintain a coherent defensive shape.
Their individual ability only made the problem worse.
Without fouling them, Millwall struggled to stop the attacks at all.
But every foul around the penalty area created another dangerous set piece.
In the twenty-fourth minute, Kaká drove forward through the centre and was brought down just outside the box.
The referee awarded another free kick.
The decision was greeted by a furious chorus of boos.
Several beer bottles were thrown from the stands.
The home supporters were convinced that the referee was favouring New Manchester United because of the number of attacking free kicks he had awarded.
"I don't see how anyone can argue with that decision," Tyler said.
"Millwall are being completely dominated.
"They're barely able to mount a proper response and are being forced to stop New Manchester United through fouls.
"But they appear to have forgotten one very important detail.
"Set pieces are one of the Red Rebels' strongest attacking weapons.
"And Juninho is standing over the ball again."
Juninho walked towards the spot with obvious confidence.
Tyler laughed.
"You can see how good he feels today.
"He's full of confidence, and his delivery has been exceptional.
"He has already created one goal indirectly and scored another himself.
"This one is a long way out, though.
"Thirty-eight metres from goal."
Juninho stepped back.
Then he struck.
Another vicious knuckleball flew towards goal without obvious spin.
The goalkeeper read the direction correctly this time.
But Juninho had deliberately driven the ball towards the turf.
It cleared the wall, dipped, and bounced just in front of goal.
The sudden change in trajectory left the goalkeeper helpless.
He could only watch the ball fly beyond him and into the net.
"0-3!"
Tyler shouted again.
"Juninho is absolutely extraordinary today!
"He is controlling this match!"
The travelling supporters exploded once more.
Ethan jumped to his feet and embraced Walsh and Mark beside him.
The Red Rebels were playing with frightening confidence.
He could feel it.
This match had the makings of a rout.
A thoroughly satisfying one.
Then something caught the corner of his eye.
A shadow moved through the blind spot beneath the front of the stand, heading towards the away section.
Ethan saw it for only an instant.
But he was certain it was a person.
The Red Rebels' allocation had plenty of empty seats because fewer supporters than usual had travelled.
That made the movement even stranger.
Ethan tugged Walsh's sleeve.
Their seats were not far from the front, and the two quickly made their way down.
"Mr Yu!"
A young couple sitting nearby greeted him.
They had brought a small child with them.
"Oh, Mr and Mrs Jackson. You came as well."
Ethan immediately recognised them.
The Jackson family were devoted supporters of Čech.
Mr Jackson smiled and nodded.
"Yes. We happened to be in London for work, so we thought we'd come to the match.
"It's been fantastic so far.
"Čech has looked rock solid."
Ethan could only smile.
Čech had barely touched the ball all afternoon.
Still, perhaps that did count as being rock solid.
He shook Mr Jackson's hand, then smiled and played briefly with their young son, Peter.
The boy was not shy at all and even grinned back at Ethan.
That immediately made him laugh.
Ethan had just turned away when someone suddenly burst from the blind spot beneath the stand.
The man was carrying a baseball bat.
He did not even appear to look at who was in front of him.
He simply raised the bat and swung it towards Mrs Jackson and Peter.
(To be continued.)