The following day, all matches of the Premier League's 13th round concluded, and the major media outlets released their reports.
The headlines were familiar, but the subtext was growing more desperate for the chasing pack.
"Manchester City 2-1 Huddersfield: Despite a dip in form, City clinched victory and continue to lead the table! Are they invincible?"
"Manchester United narrowly defeat Brighton; defensive issues gradually emerging despite their unbeaten run."
"Liverpool 1-1 Chelsea: Title hopes growing dimmer for both teams as they cancel each other out."
"Arsenal 1-0 Burnley: The Gunners gradually rediscover themselves, aiming to secure as many points as possible before the inevitable spring collapse!"
The victories for both Manchester clubs left fans of the other "Big Six" deeply disappointed.
It felt as if these two city rivals were running a different race.
If they continued to avoid defeat, the gap would soon become unbridgeable.
Given Manchester City's dominant form under Guardiola, they seemed capable of achieving a 100-point title-winning campaign.
It's worth noting that only three clubs worldwide have ever achieved this in a major league: Real Madrid (11-12), Barcelona (12-13), and Juventus (13-14).
None were from the grueling Premier League.
Such a feat requires overcoming injuries, winter fatigue, and managing squad rotation across multiple competitions.
As for Manchester United, their performances had been more pragmatic than dominant.
Inconsistent attacking flair compounded by a lack of squad depth in key areas (full-back, center-back) meant they were walking a tightrope.
Even with Mourinho's experience—he had won that 100-point title with Madrid—few neutral fans were optimistic about their chances of keeping pace with the blue machine.
The online forums were buzzing with skepticism.
[User: RedDevil_Skeptic]: "We should have no problem against Newcastle United, but facing Arsenal away in early December? That feels like the first 'L' of the season incoming..."
[User: Lindelof_Out]: "Our defensive issues are terrifying. Lindelof looks like a deer in headlights, Bailly is permanently bedridden in the physio room, and Rojo hasn't recovered. We are one injury away from disaster."
[User: DeGea_Save_Us]: "Right now, we're barely holding on thanks to Dave. If De Gea has an off day, or gets a cold, the defense collapses. It's not sustainable."
[User: Transfer_Guru]: "I'm not too optimistic about January. I heard the board is planning to cut investments and focus on 'developing youth.' That's code for 'The Glazers are taking dividends.'"
[User: Mou_In]: "Also, the players Mourinho requested (Perisic, Willian) haven't arrived. There's a crisis of trust with the board. Meanwhile, City just buy full-backs for fun. Oil money is a cheat code."
...
Soon, the 14th round of the Premier League kicked off.
Manchester United vs. Newcastle United.
Old Trafford was packed to the brim. The Saturday evening air was cold, but the atmosphere was hot.
Today's match held special, historic significance.
Manchester United was currently on a 39-match unbeaten streak at home in all competitions.
They were just four games away from equaling the all-time top-five European league record of 43 unbeaten home matches set by Juventus.
Last season, Zinedine Zidane's Real Madrid nearly broke the record but fell short at 40 matches, narrowly losing to Barcelona in El Clásico.
Now, whether Manchester United could match or break the record had become a major global storyline.
Fortress Old Trafford was back.
The starting lineups were announced.
Manchester United stuck with their 4-2-3-1 formation.
De Gea; Valencia, Lindelof, Smalling, Young; Matic, Pogba; Rashford, Mata, Ling; Lukaku.
Newcastle United, the "Magpies," deployed a classic, rigid 4-4-2 setup under Rafa Benítez.
It's worth noting that Benítez had previously coached Liverpool, Inter Milan, Real Madrid, and Chelsea.
He was a tactical obsessive, a winner, and crucially, a long-time enemy of José Mourinho.
Benítez and Mourinho shared a deep, bitter rivalry.
Their clashes began over a decade ago during the intense Chelsea vs. Liverpool Champions League semi-finals ("The Ghost Goal").
It had evolved from subtle sideline mind games to heated public insults.
The pre-match press conference had been particularly lively.
Benítez: "Mourinho loves to talk big, but I deal in facts. When I was at Liverpool, our squad's value was less than half of Chelsea's, yet we knocked them out of the Champions League twice. Money isn't everything."
Mourinho: "How many Premier League titles has Rafa won since joining Liverpool? None! Besides, I've never managed to relegate a team—now that's a truly 'remarkable' achievement he has over me."
Both managers were sharp-tongued, destined adversaries.
The touchline would be as interesting as the pitch.
...
The referee blew the whistle.
Manchester United players aimed to extend their streak.
Newcastle United were determined not to become mere footnotes in history.
The pitch crackled with tension. Challenges were late. Shoulders were barged.
Tactically, Benítez's approach gained the early upper hand.
He knew how to frustrate Mourinho.
Newcastle's twin strikers, Dwight Gayle and Joselu, avoided pressing United's center-backs.
Instead, they dropped deep to mark Pogba and Matic tightly, forming a box that stifled United's forward progression.
The Newcastle midfielders and full-backs pushed high, supporting wide players in shutting down the flanks and severing the link between Ling/Rashford and Lukaku.
14th Minute. Ling received the ball on the left wing.
He tried to surge forward, looking to isolate the full-back, DeAndre Yedlin.
But Matt Ritchie, the Newcastle winger, had tracked back diligently.
He harried Ling from the side, disrupting his rhythm.
Ling lost control for a split second and that was all Yedlin needed.
The American speedster stepped in, dispossessed him cleanly, and charged down the flank.
Manchester United were caught out.
Ashley Young was too high. Yedlin delivered a low, fizzing cross into the box.
Lindelof slipped.
Dwight Gayle met it with a first-time finish.
The ball struck the inside of the left post and bounced across the line.
0-1!
The away section in the corner of Old Trafford erupted.
The Toon Army went wild, shirts off despite the cold. They glimpsed victory—eager to conquer both Manchester clubs and announce their survival.
"Brilliant! Just keep playing like this!" Benítez screamed from the technical area.
"They only know how to defend! They cannot break us down!" Benítez excitedly waved his arms and raised an eyebrow toward the opposing dugout.
Last season, when he led Newcastle to relegation, he had endured plenty of taunts.
Now was his moment.
However, to his disappointment, Mourinho paid him no attention.
He was busy scribbling in his notebook.
On the pitch, Ling stood with his hands on his hips.
"My fault," he said, with a hint of frustration in his voice.
He felt heavy.
He hadn't settled into the rhythm of the game yet; his first touch had been loose.
"Don't worry about it, shake it off!" Romelu Lukaku clapped his hands.
"We go again!" Juan Mata ran over. "Forget it, Ling. Next play."
Judging by their expressions, the senior players weren't overly concerned.
United had staged numerous comebacks this season.
They had resilience.
Moreover, they often felt that Ling was almost unnervingly calm like a robot.
Seeing him make a human error was strange, but they knew he would bounce back.
He had the mentality of a veteran.
But it was important to remember that Ling had just turned 18.
He was still learning.
Ling patted his thigh hard, stinging the skin.
'Wake up.'
After the match resumed, Manchester United began to pick up the pace.
The slow, side-to-side passing vanished.
Ling, Lukaku, and Rashford started making direct, aggressive runs forward, stretching the Newcastle block.
Meanwhile, Paul Pogba, angry at being marked out of the game, began to drop deeper to collect the ball, using his strength to roll defenders and deliver passes.
22nd Minute (8 minutes later). Pogba received the ball deep.
He looked up and saw Ling isolating Yedlin on the left.
He pinged a perfect diagonal ball.
Ling trapped it dead with his chest.
DeAndre Yedlin, known for his recovery pace, stood off him slightly, wary of the knock-and-run.
Ling didn't knock it. He executed two rapid step-overs—left, right—freezing Yedlin's feet.
Then.... he exploded.
He didn't go down the line; he cut inside, accelerating past Yedlin as if the defender was standing still.
He drove to the byline inside the box.
The angle was tight. He looked up.
In the penalty area, the cavalry had arrived.
Lukaku dragged the near-post defenders. Pogba was arriving late at the edge of the box.
But at the far post, Marcus Rashford had peeled away from his marker.
Ling didn't blast it.
He chipped a delicate, left-footed cross to the back stick.
Rashford rose high.
He attacked the ball with venom, heading it down into the turf.
It bounced up and into the roof of the net.
1-1!
Old Trafford roared its relief.
The roles on the sidelines instantly reversed.
Mourinho celebrated with a triumphant punch of the air, turning to the crowd.
Benítez fell into a brooding silence, adjusting his glasses.
Ling high-fived Rashford.
"Great header, Marcus."
"Great ball, Jez. You skinned him alive."
The game was back on and the streak was safe... for now.
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