Match week 2, Premier League
Old Trafford stood ready to host one of England's most renowned rivalries. Manchester United versus Chelsea—the Red Devils against the Blues. But this wasn't just another fixture in the calendar. This was theater, drama, and psychological warfare all rolled into one.
José Mourinho had returned to Stamford Bridge that summer, and his first order of business was unsettling his former rivals.
His first transfer target seemed to be Wayne Rooney, and was even publicly trying to woo Rooney with a brazenness that bordered on being provocation.
The subplot was deeper than simple transfer speculation.
Rooney's relationship with David Moyes had been restless from the start. When Moyes arrived at Old Trafford and publicly designated him as Robin van Persie's backup not his partner, his backup—old wounds were reopened and new ones formed.
During the Swansea opener, Rooney had openly refused to celebrate with his teammates after goals, standing apart like a man already elsewhere in his mind.
Chelsea's initial bid had been ridiculous: £25 million plus add-ons. United rejected it without hesitation.
Yet the English media, ever hungry for narrative, suggested Mourinho's pursuit wasn't genuine at all. Perhaps the Special One was simply playing mind games, destabilizing United's dressing room, planting seeds of doubt in Moyes's first season. Psychological warfare dressed up as transfer interest.
In his pre-match press conference, Mourinho bristled at such questions.
"I cannot understand this viewpoint," He said, leaning forward with that familiar intensity. "We want to strengthen every position. It's a normal ambition. We've done it from goalkeeper to midfield, from defensive midfielders to attacking ones. Now we're looking at strikers. What's controversial about that?"
Then came the philosophical jab at United's transfer policy.
"This mentality—'we won't sell to domestic rivals'—it's archaic. Old-fashioned thinking that doesn't help the market evolve. Sometimes it's better to keep players in the league rather than export them abroad.
Look at Italy. Serie A operates this way constantly. Players move between Inter, Milan, Roma, Juventus—it's normal. Inzaghi played for Juventus and Milan. Among top players, only Totti stayed loyal to one club. Pirlo went to Inter, Milan, Juventus. The system works."
The mind games had been set. Now came the match itself.
When the team sheets dropped, eyebrows raised across England.
Wayne Rooney's name appeared in Manchester United's starting XI.
Moyes had called his bluff—or perhaps made peace. Either way, the striker who allegedly wanted out would now have to perform for the club wooing him and the manager he supposedly couldn't stand. The image was delicious for media.
British tabloids, naturally, found more fuel for the fire. During the pre-match warm-up, eagle-eyed reporters noted that Rooney wore a long-sleeve training top while his teammates donned short sleeves. Such a minor detail—but in the hothouse atmosphere of transfer speculation, even clothing choices became evidence of discord.
"This match is impossible for Rooney," one pundit observed. "If he plays well, people will say he's showing off for Mourinho. If he plays poorly, they'll say his head's already at Chelsea. He can't win."
Another journalist took it further: "If Rooney scores today, will he kiss the Chelsea badge?"
Mourinho, meanwhile, had deployed his own psychological masterstroke. His starting XI featured a false nine system—no striker. The message to Rooney couldn't have been clearer(as per media): This position is waiting for you. It's yours if you want it.
The match itself failed to live up to the pre-game drama.
Manchester United 0-0 Chelsea. A stalemate. A tactical chess match that ended in mutual frustration.
Yet within the boring scoreline, Wayne Rooney emerged as United's brightest spark, I it was a twist of irony that nobody had scripted.
In the 28th minute, he collected Tom Cleverley's pass and unleashed a shot that Petr Čech gathered comfortably. Later, his clever through ball released Danny Welbeck, though the young striker blazed his chance over the bar.
Then came two thunderous long-range efforts in the 65th and 78th minutes—both requiring full-stretch saves from Čech. On another day, with a smaller goalkeeper, either might have found the net.
Those two strikes represented the majority of United's attacking threat all afternoon.
Gary Lineker, watching from the BBC studio, didn't mince words: "Rooney was everywhere on that pitch. Manchester United simply cannot afford to lose him."
Even Mourinho softened his stance post-match, though whether genuinely or tactically remained unclear.
"Usually when a player wants to leave, the fans boo him," He said. "But this is a special club with special supporters. They backed him throughout. Perhaps that support has made him reconsider staying at Manchester United."
Still, the rumor mill churned. One fan on social media pointed out: "Did anyone notice that Rooney didn't pass to Van Persie once today?"
Moyes, for his part, offered Rooney an olive branch in his own post-match comments.
"I'm delighted with Wayne's performance. The fans' response was heartening, though not unexpected—I anticipated exactly this reaction." He paused, then added the real concession. "His attitude in training has been absolutely exemplary. Anyone should look at Wayne as a role model in that regard. I don't think he needs to change anything. Tonight, he demonstrated that perfectly."
A truce, then. Or at least a temporary ceasefire.
Back in his Carleton Tower apartment, Julien scrolled through the match reports and shook his head. The English media truly were vultures—circling, waiting, manufacturing drama from the smallest details.
Though he had to admit, the environment suited someone like Mourinho perfectly. The man thrived on confrontation, on headlines, on the psychological dimension of football that existed beyond the white lines.
Julien had been searching for news about the upcoming UEFA Super Cup—specifically, how Bayern Munich looked under their new manager. That's when he stumbled across Mourinho's latest soundbite, this time taking aim at Pep Guardiola.
Last season, Bayern had been unstoppable. They'd demolished Juventus 4-0, humiliated Barcelona 7-0 on aggregate, and claimed the treble. Jupp Heynckes had retired at the peak of his powers, walking away with every honor a manager could dream of.
Now Guardiola had arrived at the Allianz Arena, intent on reshaping the machine Heynckes had perfected. His tinkering—changing the foundational 4-2-3-1 system, bringing in players like Thiago had produced mixed results in pre-season.
Mourinho, naturally, had thoughts.
"Last season under Heynckes, Bayern were the strongest team in Europe," he told reporters. "Now they have a new coach and new players. But I'm not certain they're as good as they were before."
The implication hung in the air like cigarette smoke. Guardiola, in Mourinho's view, had inherited perfection and diluted it. Where Heynckes built a ruthless, efficient machine, Pep was trying to impose his philosophy—and potentially weakening Bayern in the process.
The comments predictably drew ire from Barcelona and Bayern supporters online.
Mourinho, Julien suspected, wouldn't lose sleep over their complaints.
As Julien leaned back in his chair, he reflected on Mourinho's trajectory. The Portuguese manager was approaching the twilight of his peak—Julien knew this from history but his achievements over the past decade were undeniable.
Love him or hate him, Mourinho had earned his arrogance.
While Chelsea's draw had been disappointing but palatable, Manchester City's result sent shockwaves through English football.
Cardiff City 3-2 Manchester City.
A newly-promoted side—in their first-ever Premier League season had defeated the defending champions. Not just beaten them, but come from behind to do it. The upset dominated headlines as the biggest shock of the young season.
South Korean winger Kim Bo-kyung created the equalizer, while owner Vincent Tan celebrated his first Premier League victory since acquiring the club.
Kim Bo-kyung wasn't a household name, even in Korea. But some fans might have recognized him from earlier this summer, when Park Ji-sung brought him along to the third Asian Dream Cup charity match.
Nobody could have predicted that two months later, Kim's opponents would upgrade from retired players to the most expensive squad in England.
Against City's star-studded lineup, Kim raised his game. The winger's direct running and quality delivery consistently troubled City's defense. His lung-bursting run and pinpoint cross created Cardiff's crucial equalizer.
For Julien, these stories were amusing footnotes. What truly mattered was the UEFA Super Cup at month's end, whether Bastia, even without him, could compete with Bayern Munich.
That summer, Bastia had generated over €100 million in transfer revenue, it was a club record. The bulk came from two sales: Julien himself (€80 million) and N'Golo Kanté (€10 million). Sidibé had also left.
Julien's transfer alone shattered the record for a young player sold by a Ligue 1 club, transforming Bastia into a focus point for European scouts overnight.
With veteran Rothen retiring and several loanees returning to parent clubs, Bastia faced a squad overhaul.
At Julien's suggestion, sporting director Chataigner had moved quickly in the goalkeeper market, paying Benfica €6 million for Jan Oblak—a young Slovenian shot-stopper with immense potential. Arsenal had refused to let Emiliano Martínez leave on loan, forcing Bastia to look elsewhere.
From Barcelona's La Masia academy came Sergi Samper, a technically gifted central midfielder meant to partially fill Kevin De Bruyne's creative void.
The marquee signing arrived from Wolfsburg: Croatian winger Ivan Perišić, secured for €15 million. It was Bastia's most expensive incoming transfer of the window.
Beyond that, Chataigner relied on free transfers and his powers of persuasion. Sadio Mané and Virgil van Dijk both courted by bigger clubs were convinced to stay for another season. Their loyalty was secured through Chataigner's personal commitment and financial incentives which would prove crucial.
Hadzibegic could still field a competitive XI:
Khazri, who was Lukaku's backup last season, can now play as a striker. The wing positions are occupied by Mane and Perisic. The midfield is somewhat stretched, with Cahuzac stepping up, along with Bessat and new signing Samper. In defense, right-back Clauss got a chance, while center-backs Van Dijk, Angoula, and Choplin remained the core of the team and rotated in. Left-back Palmieri dropped back. Goalkeeper Oblak was in charge.
The bench featured several free agent signings and youth products.
This squad represented Bastia's pragmatic approach: spend wisely, maximize value. Yes, they'd banked €100 million, but expenses ran high. Julien's transfer fee included €16 million in deferred signing-on bonuses (20% of the total). The club also carried over €10 million in existing debt.
Then came the investments: player bonuses, training facility upgrades, youth academy expansion, and plans to renovate the Stade Armand-Cesari. The money, substantial as it seemed, wouldn't last forever.
For the new season, Bastia faced Champions League football but the club remained grounded. They wouldn't overextend financially or tactically. Maintaining competitiveness in Ligue 1 while navigating Europe's elite competition would be achievement enough.
The morning after Liverpool's dramatic victory, sunlight danced across the Mersey River, turning the water's surface in shimmering gold.
Saturday in Liverpool awoke slower than usual, the city was still basking in the afterglow of Julien's stoppage-time winner. But when it did wake, joy permeated every corner.
Red shirts multiplied on the streets. Clusters of supporters gathered at newsstand corners, gesturing excitedly at the Liverpool Echo front page—a full-spread image of Julien, arms spread wide in celebration, under the headline: "THE CONQUEROR."
At the Albert Dock, morning joggers slowed to catch their breath and replay the goal.
"That first touch—like he was dancing with the ball!"
"I thought he'd pass for sure. Then he cut inside again."
"And that strike from outside the box, so much power Mignolet didn't even move!"
"Incredible. Just incredible."
Their laughter and lively conversation drifted across the damp river breeze.
Inside waterfront cafés, the rich aroma of coffee mingled with fresh-baked croissants. At a window table, several old supporters sat with the morning papers spread before them.
"I've watched this club for forty years," said one gray-haired gentleman, sipping his coffee. "From Kenny to Stevie, we've always waited for the next one—someone who could truly decide matches on his own. Now, I think we've found him."
His companion nodded insistently, tapping Julien's photograph. "Look at his eyes. Only eighteen years old, but ice-cold in that moment. Give him time, be patient—he'll become the new king of Anfield. And remember, he's only played two matches."
At the LFC Store in the city center, business boomed beyond normal Saturday levels. Red shirts bearing "De Rocca 10" flew off the shelves, with queues forming at the registers.
A father knelt before his young son, carefully pulling a new number 10 shirt over the boy's head. The child immediately mimicked Julien's celebration, arms stretched wide, face beaming. The father laughed, ruffling his son's hair.
Even the pigeons in front of St. George's Hall seemed to enjoy the weekend's contented atmosphere, pecking lazily at breadcrumbs.
This wasn't the frenzied euphoria of a trophy parade. This was something more sustainable, more nourishing, the steady, bone-deep satisfaction that comes from a crucial league victory. A single moment of brilliance that would warm the city through the entire weekend.
And in the background of every conversation, every celebration, lurked the same thought: What will he do next?
________________________________________________________
Check out my patreon where you can read more chapters:
patreon.com/LorianFiction
Thanks for your support!