After the first leg of the Champions League semi-finals, the Premier League resumed with Matchday 35.
Manchester City had already secured the league title, and Manchester United, with no pressure to finish top four and fully focused on the second leg, sent out a rotated lineup in London.
In the end, Manchester United lost 0–1 away to Arsenal.
Manchester City, meanwhile, hosted West Ham United with a fully rotated squad and won 3–0 at home, thanks to goals from Yaya Touré, Zabaleta, and Van Persie.
With this win, Manchester City moved one step closer to an undefeated Premier League season.
Liverpool also beat Newcastle 3–0 at home, basically locking in third place in the league.
…
Three days later, the second leg of the Champions League semi-final.
Manchester City traveled to Old Trafford.
Trailing 0–2 from the first leg, Ferguson had his back against the wall and was forced to send Manchester United into full attack mode at home.
From the opening minutes, the Red Devils pressed hard, just as they had at the Etihad.
This time, however, they scored.
In the 24th minute, Manchester City's pass was intercepted during a counterattack. United launched a quick transition. Sneijder played a ball behind him, and Valencia broke the offside trap, ran into the right side of the box, and scored.
1–0!
This goal reignited the passion of the home crowd and fired up United's players.
But the momentum didn't last. Just six minutes later, United paid the price for their emotional high.
Fabio lost his man on the right, and Gareth Bale burst into the left side of the penalty area. He received a diagonal pass from Robben, who had cut in from the right, and calmly slotted the ball home from his signature "Bale Zone," beating Van der Sar.
1–1!
Now United were in trouble.
The aggregate score was back to 3–1, and City had an away goal.
That meant United needed to score at least three more goals without conceding to turn the tie around.
But how easy is it to score three goals against Manchester City without conceding?
Still, Ferguson urged his players to push forward.
At this point, United's players had lost their sharpness and intensity. The opening assault had drained their energy. Then, in the 38th minute, City struck again.
David Silva flicked a pass behind the defense. Robben latched onto it, broke through, rounded Van der Sar, and calmly rolled the ball into the empty net.
2–1.
This goal completely shattered United's belief in a comeback.
In the second half, Ferguson made several substitutions in an attempt to shift the momentum, but it was in vain.
In the end, Manchester City came from behind to beat Manchester United 2–1 at Old Trafford, advancing to the final with a 4–1 aggregate score.
…
"How is it? Can you still take it?"
After the match, Gao Shen returned to a familiar room at Old Trafford, where Ferguson had already started drinking.
As usual, he handed Gao Shen two bottles of water.
Ferguson didn't even look up. He didn't need to see Gao Shen to know how smug he must be feeling right now.
Both managers had won the Champions League twice. Now that one had reached another final, he had the chance to win a third and become the most decorated active coach. Ferguson wanted that honor more than Gao Shen did.
In recent years, he had begun to feel his own decline.
Especially after Queiroz's departure, he could no longer manage everything. Problems kept cropping up.
The first team. The youth system.
"Don't worry. We survived the disaster of last season. What's a Champions League semi-final exit?" Ferguson grunted.
Gao Shen laughed and raised four fingers. "Four kills!"
Then he unscrewed the bottle and took a swig.
Ferguson sighed, twirled the wine in his hand, then downed it in one go, as though drinking away his sorrow.
But drinking only deepened the sorrow.
In Ferguson's case, it just meant he hadn't had enough yet.
If he drank more, he could fall asleep quicker.
"By the way, how's your club acquisition coming along?" Ferguson suddenly asked.
Gao Shen was stunned. He had kept it under wraps. How did the news get out?
He'd signed a confidentiality agreement with Ken Bates and the Leeds United board. If they'd leaked it, he could sue.
That'd be a bonus.
But seeing Ferguson's face, Gao Shen quickly realized the old man didn't know anything. He just wanted to poke him in the ribs.
"Damn, you want me to go bankrupt?" Gao Shen asked.
Ferguson chuckled and shook his head. "You? Go bankrupt? With your brains? If you actually buy a club, you'd probably turn it into a goldmine. A proper black market!"
Ferguson really did know him.
"But I hope you buy it quickly. And get the hell out of here."
Gao Shen smiled bitterly. That was the old man's true wish.
"Premier League clubs are too expensive. Why don't you lend me some cash?" Gao Shen teased.
"Get lost! If I had money, would I still be doing this at my age? Letting you bully me?"
Ferguson was annoyed.
Whether someone has money or not depends on perspective.
For most workers, a house, a car, a spouse and kids, and a job paying ten to eighteen thousand a month is already good. Saving tens of thousands makes you feel rich.
But for someone like Ferguson, even hundreds of thousands or millions of pounds wasn't enough.
Because there were too many mouths to feed.
A big house, luxury cars, family members both young and old, brothers and cousins, many of them worked at United or related businesses.
In such circumstances, the question isn't whether Ferguson wanted to retire. It's whether he could.
He had mentioned retirement many times.
At the start of the century. After winning the Champions League.
He kept postponing it.
He told the media and wrote in his autobiography that it was because he loved football.
But let's be real here.
Do you really think it's easy to stay at the top level of football in your seventies?
If his kids were capable, would Ferguson still be here?
He was like one of those first-generation entrepreneurs. If the next generation was good, he could retire early. If not, he might be stuck grinding until the end.
Every family has its struggles. No one has it easy.
…
"To be honest, if I really buy a club, you'll have to keep your promise."
Gao Shen wasn't here just to listen to Ferguson complain. He was here to collect.
"Of course! I keep my word," Ferguson said firmly.
"You'll give me whoever I want?" Gao Shen pushed.
Ferguson flashed a cunning smile. "No chance. You think I own Manchester United?"
There it was. The old man's true face.
"I want three players."
"Impossible. One, max."
"Then forget it. You definitely won't give me the best two."
"Who?"
"Morrison and Lingard... wait, you're trying to trick me?" Gao Shen feigned sudden realization.
Ferguson burst out laughing.
Forget the Champions League, forget the defeat. That grin said it all.
"You're still too green!" Ferguson said proudly.
Gao Shen glared and pouted. "You crafty old fox!"
Ferguson shrugged. "To be fair, Morrison is the most talented in our academy. But Lingard..."
Gao Shen gave him a double snort and stayed silent.
Ferguson laughed again. "Fine. Don't sulk. Aside from those two, you can take anyone else. I'll give them to you at market price. No regrets. But only if you actually buy the club."
So far, Ferguson hadn't heard any confirmation that Gao Shen had bought a club. He didn't believe he'd move that quickly. By the time summer arrived, who would even remember this?
Transfers? Maybe next winter, at the earliest. Who knows what could happen in six months?
"I don't trust you anymore," Gao Shen replied.
"No, but seriously. About Lingard. Is he really that good?"
Gao Shen stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Just to soothe your broken heart, I'll believe you again."
Ferguson grinned. "Go ahead, record it. I won't go back on my word."
"In my eyes, there's no player in the world with Lingard's level of natural talent."
"He's that good?" Ferguson was puzzled.
United were indeed high on Lingard. Otherwise, they wouldn't be grooming him alongside Morrison and Pogba, seeing him as one of the next leaders.
But was he really that good?
"Maybe I'm exaggerating," Gao Shen said, "but compared to Lingard, Messi is nothing!"
Ferguson froze.
If someone else had said that, he'd have spat in their face.
Come on, who are you kidding?
But this was Gao Shen.
The man known worldwide for his eye for talent.
He had spotted Morrison, after all.
So what was it about Lingard that made him so confident?
Ferguson couldn't help but ask himself—had he and his team missed something in Lingard?
And Gao Shen really did have a track record.
So many overlooked players had become stars under him. Maybe Lingard had something special after all.
If so, there was no way Ferguson would let him go. Even if he couldn't develop him properly, he wouldn't let someone else take him.
"Trust me, Sir. Lingard has the potential to become the emperor of European football!" Gao Shen added, boosting Ferguson's confidence even more.
When he calls for the ball, the world bows!
If Lingard hadn't been born, football would have remained in darkness forever!
Emperor Lingard, mighty!
(To be continued.)
***
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