"West Ham United has started the game aggressively, taking three shots in less than ten minutes, all on target."
"Without Ling on the pitch, Manchester United's frontline really struggles to press the opponent's midfield and defense."
"Look at Declan Rice—he's been freed up to join the attack, and this youngster's playmaking is really impressive today!"
Gary Neville kept analyzing from the commentary booth.
Suddenly, his expression changed drastically.
Rice played a through ball to Javier Hernández, who flicked it behind without stopping, allowing Felipe Anderson to run through and score one-on-one.
But the linesman had already raised his flag—offside, goal disallowed.
The Manchester United players on the pitch breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Preparing for the massive Champions League match three days later, Mourinho had fielded only a half-rotated lineup.
As a result, they looked somewhat unsettled and disjointed against West Ham.
"What are you all doing shrinking back there?! This is Old Trafford! Can't you play football without Ling on the pitch?!" Mourinho shouted from the technical area, waving his arms furiously.
The tactics he had devised before the match were detailed, and if the Manchester United players executed them properly, the situation wouldn't be like this.
"Get yourselves fired up! Play like we do in training, and don't let the pressure get to you!" Phil Jones comforted his defensive partners loudly.
As the match progressed, Manchester United gradually found their rhythm.
In the 17th minute, Romelu Lukaku was brought down clumsily in the box while receiving the ball, and the referee decisively awarded a penalty.
Paul Pogba stepped up and converted it with ease.
Old Trafford erupted instantly.
The camera suddenly cut to Sir Alex Ferguson in the stands, and the fans erupted into even louder cheers.
Ling, sitting a few rows down, waved confidently at the camera.
He wasn't even in the squad today, so he had decided to bring Maria along as a spectator.
"Ling, you're even more popular at Manchester United than my dad is at Manchester City," Maria's eyes sparkled with admiration as she heard the crowd chant his name.
Ling smiled without saying a word.
Players and coaches, while complementary to a team, hold entirely different meanings to the fans.
The former are individuals on the pitch, the latter a collective manager. Fans naturally relate more to players, which gives players an inherent advantage in popularity.
Of course, there are coaches like Mourinho, whose defiant, witty, and eccentric personalities have made him one of the most captivating figures in football.
His fanbase rivals that of most players. But such individuals are rare.
"Maria, could you chat with me for a while?" A gentle elderly woman sitting nearby spoke softly.
Maria quickly composed herself. "Of course, Lady Cathy."
This was Sir Alex Ferguson's wife, and her love story with Ferguson was a well-known and cherished tale in football.
"Do you know why I retired in 2013?" Sir Alex Ferguson sat beside Ling, his eyes filled with deep emotion.
"Health reasons?" Ling guessed politely.
"No. One night that year, I came home and saw my wife sitting alone, staring blankly at the TV. In that moment, I felt her profound loneliness," Ferguson shook his head.
Then he looked over at Cathy and Maria chatting happily and gently patted Ling's shoulder.
"So, make time for your family, son. I was once a footballer too, and I know exactly how much you crave glory. But don't let it make you neglect the feelings of your loved ones."
Back in his playing days, he trained every day; as a coach, he worked every day.
Eventually, he built a legendary football career.
But behind his immense success was the selfless dedication and quiet support of his wife.
Looking back now, Cathy really went through a lot.
If it were any other player, Sir Alex Ferguson wouldn't have shared these private thoughts.
But who else was sitting beside him but Ling?
"Sir, I understand," Ling nodded with a warm smile.
Then he pulled out a photo and said helplessly, "Maria's brother wants your autograph."
For some reason, Marius had recently become obsessed with Manchester United from the 1990s.
Getting autographs from Ryan Giggs, Gary Neville, and others was easy—there were plenty circulating on the market.
But Sir Alex Ferguson's autograph was genuinely hard to come by.
"No problem at all." Ferguson took the photo and glanced at it—a picture of him with the Class of '92.
With a mix of nostalgia and emotion, he signed his name.
...
On the other side.
"After Alex and I got married, he scored 45 goals that year and won the league's top scorer award," Lady Cathy smiled.
"Every time he played, I would pray at home. It was exhausting being alone, but that's because I didn't enjoy being heavily involved in the football world. I think you'll get along very well with Ling in this life."
Lady Cathy had been doing most of the talking, while Maria listened intently, chin in her hand.
Sir Alex Ferguson and Lady Cathy truly were an ideal couple.
She hoped that thirty years from now, she could still sit with Ling watching a match, just like today.
Time flew by as they chatted.
In the 54th minute of the match.
Manchester United launched a swift counterattack from the back, with the ball quickly passed up to Jesse Lingard. Lingard was brought down in the box by Ryan Fredericks.
The referee awarded another penalty.
Pogba stepped up and calmly converted, scoring his second penalty of the match.
The French youngster excitedly performed a front flip, suddenly thinking it wasn't so bad that Ling wasn't playing today.
Because that meant he was the focal point, and his goal tally was skyrocketing.
Meanwhile, Lingard, seeing Mourinho's nod of approval, finally felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders.
After being demoted to the youth team for so long—training only with the youth squad, having to wait for the first team to finish before eating in the cafeteria—the feeling had been utterly miserable.
Now that he was finally back with the first team, he swore he'd never mess up again.
From then on, under Manchester United's solid defense, West Ham United were given no chances, and their hopes of "robbing the rich to help the poor" were entirely dashed.
The match ultimately ended 2-0.
In the post-match review, Mourinho was relatively satisfied.
Although Manchester United had been passive early on, they quickly adjusted to the right rhythm.
If Manchester United couldn't even handle West Ham without Ling—Mourinho felt the club had no future.
"In three days, we face Barcelona. Ander Herrera has accumulated three yellow cards and is suspended for one match as per the rules, so Scott, you'll start as the defensive midfielder alongside Matic."
Listening to Mourinho's words, Scott McTominay nodded firmly.
He knew how crucial that position was—if the midfield defense wasn't up to par, it could lead to the entire flank collapsing.
Could Barcelona equalize or even turn the game around? Given the efficiency of Barcelona's attacking trio, it was hard to say.
"The key to defending Messi is to keep running and running, expanding your coverage to cut off his connection with his teammates," Mourinho continued. "That way, Messi's space to advance will shrink, and we'll have vital time to reorganize our defense."
Even if Messi performed quietly in the last match, people wouldn't reduce their attention toward him.
After all, the legendary reputation he had built over more than a decade made it impossible for anyone to underestimate him.
Observing the serious expressions on the players' faces, Mourinho nodded in satisfaction.
The tactical review meeting came to an end.
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