Glory Of The Football Manager System

The ball bounced once and sat up in front of him. He did not let it come down a second time. He hit it with his left foot on the half volley, from 29 yards, and it went over the top of everybody and started to dip, and Ederson took 1 step and then stood and watched it go into the top corner.

Thwack.

1-2.

The noise in that ground went out like a light. For 3 seconds the only sound in the Etihad came from the far corner, and then it came from the far corner much, much louder.

”GLAD ALL OVER! GLAD ALL OVER!”

Townsend ran the length of the touchline to them with his arms out and his mouth open, and every 1 of them ran after him. On the bench, Bray took his laminated card out, made a mark on it, and put it back.

Zaha went into the book on 45 for going through the back of Walker. He walked away from the referee with his hand up and did not say a word.

Prrrp. Prrrp.

Sarah had the board up in the dressing room by the time the last of them came in. She drew the goal in 3 lines: Walker, the long switch, Sané, Delph round the outside.

”Andros. When Walker lifts his head, you are already on Sané’s shoulder. Do not wait to see where it goes. It goes there.”

Townsend nodded with a towel over his face.

I told them they had 2 goals from 2 shots, and that City would come at us harder in the next 45 minutes than anybody had all season. Then I told them to do it all again, and I left Neves and McArthur to say the rest.

Guardiola did not wait for the second half. He sent Agüero on after 5 minutes of it.

50 minutes. Agüero for Otamendi.

He took off a centre half to put on a striker. City were going to play with 3 at the back and 4 men up front, and they were going to win it or they were going to lose it.

They lost it the next minute.

Wan-Bissaka went down the right on his own, for the first time all afternoon, and put a low cross into the box. Townsend met it with his head, and the post sent it back out. The rebound fell to Kovačić 8 yards out, and Kyle Walker came across and took his legs before he could shoot.

The referee pointed to the spot.

Rúben Neves stood over it with the City end behind the goal whistling at him. He did not look at Ederson. He put it low to the goalkeeper’s left, hard, and Ederson went the other way.

Thock.

1-3.

”DANNY WALSH! HE SAID NO! DANNY WALSH! HE SAID NO!”

Our end sang it at the Etihad, 4 miles from Old Trafford, and somewhere in the home end a few of them laughed and joined in.

51 minutes. 3 shots on target and 3 goals. I stood on the edge of my area and did not move.

What came after that was the longest 40 minutes I have spent in a football ground, and I include the second half in Moscow.

At 3-1, with 30 minutes left, the old part of me wanted a 4th. Benteke on, Zaha running, everybody forward to finish it. I had the change in my head and the words ready for it. What had I brought those players to Manchester for? I had told them on Thursday, in a dark room with the City wall behind me. I sat on that bench and said none of the words.

62 minutes. De Bruyne for Delph.

69 minutes. Mahrez for Sterling.

By 70 minutes City had Agüero, Jesus, Sané, Mahrez, De Bruyne and Bernardo Silva all within 30 yards of our goal at once, and only 3 men behind them. They had the ball for minutes at a time. My players blocked shots with their shins and their backs and their faces. Sakho headed everything that came into the box and shouted in French after every header. Konaté followed Agüero all over the edge of the box and never once let him turn.

Achraf Hakimi went into the book on 75 for pulling Mahrez’s shirt.

On 76 Sané stood over a free kick 25 yards out, central, and Michael Steele leaned forward on the bench for the first time all afternoon.

Sané hit it over the wall with his left foot. Pope was already moving to his left, the way Steele had sent him, 11 times, on pitch 3 on Thursday, and he did not need to make the save. The ball hit the outside of his post and went behind.

Tonk.

James McArthur was booked on 80 for a foul on De Bruyne. He apologised to De Bruyne and helped him up, and then he went back and stood in front of Neves again.

On 85 De Bruyne went wide on the right and tried to cross it into the 6 yard box. He did not hit it right. It went up off the outside of his boot, high, and it kept going. It dropped over Nick Pope’s head and into the far corner while Pope was still backing towards it.

Fwip.

2-3.

The noise came back into that ground like a door slamming.

There were 5 minutes left and then whatever the referee added. City threw Laporte forward. They threw Stones forward. They threw everybody they had at us.

86 minutes. Tarkowski for Eze.

5 at the back. I did not ask anybody about it. Eze came off, sat down next to me, and watched every ball with his hands knotted between his knees.

88 minutes. Benteke for Zaha.

Zaha came off to the whole of the away end singing his name. He went straight past my hand and sat down at the end of the bench with his head in a towel.

90 minutes. Højbjerg for Kovačić.

The 4th official held up 4 minutes.

Nick Pope took 30 seconds over the next goal kick and the referee booked him for it. Pope did not argue. He put the ball down, walked back, walked forward again, and kicked it 70 yards into the sky towards Benteke, the 1 time all afternoon he went long.

In the 92nd minute City had a corner, and every outfield player they had was in our box. De Bruyne put it in. Sakho headed it out, and it dropped to Benteke on the halfway line, with Højbjerg running beside him and 50 yards of grass in front of them. Laporte and Stones were turning to chase. Ederson was on his line.

2 against 2 with half a pitch to run. A 4th goal at the Etihad was right there, if they ran at it and it worked. If it did not, City had the ball back with 2 minutes left, and Benteke and Højbjerg were 60 yards from where they were needed.

Benteke looked at me.

Everything in me wanted to wave him on. I had the arm half out of my pocket.

”CORNER,” I shouted at him. ”CORNER FLAG.”

Words. My arm stayed in my pocket.

He turned and ran the ball 40 yards towards the corner flag on the left, clack off a City shin and back to his own feet, and Højbjerg went with him, and the 2 of them stood there with the ball between their feet and 3 City players kicking at it.

In the 94th minute Gabriel Jesus got his head to a De Bruyne cross 6 yards out and put it wide of the post.

Prrrp. Prrrp. Prrrrp.

[PREMIER LEAGUE. CRYSTAL PALACE 50. MANCHESTER CITY 48.]

I did not go onto the pitch. I stood on the edge of my area with my toes on the paint and watched my players go down on the grass, 1 after another, the way they go down after a match like that, with nothing left to stand on. Sakho was on his back. Konaté was on his knees with his hands over his face. Benteke and Højbjerg were still stood by the corner flag with the ball between them, and they did not seem to have noticed it was over.

Guardiola came down his touchline and shook my hand. He held it a second longer than he needed to, and looked at me, and then he went onto the pitch to his own players.

I went and found Zaha.

He was still on the bench with the towel over his head. I sat down next to him. He took the towel off.

”You took me off the grass, gaffer.”

”At 3-2, with 2 minutes left.”

”I know the score.” He looked out at Benteke and Højbjerg, still stood by the corner flag. ”I told you at Burnley. If it is going to go, I want to be stood on it.”

”It did not go.”

”No,” Zaha said. He put the towel back over his head. ”Next time it might.”

Michael Steele was in the corridor with his bag on his shoulder.

”De Bruyne’s,” I said. ”Could Nick have had it?”

”No,” Steele said, and went to find the coach.

Nathan had the interviews on his phone in the corridor afterwards. Guardiola had said that his team had started well and created chances, and that it was complicated, and they would fight until the last second. Then he had said it again, shorter.

”3 shots on goal and 3 goals.”

My mother had been in that far corner all afternoon, in the Palace hat she bought for Old Trafford, with her sister Sheila. She rang at 20 to 6, while I was still in the corridor. She said well done, and that Sheila had cried at the 3rd goal, and she hung up first.

The coach left the Etihad at half 6, back into the city centre. Sarah sat across the aisle from me with the January fixture list on her knee. She did not show it to me. She did not need to.

We would be back here inside 3 weeks for a semi-final.

Emma’s clause ran out at midnight on Monday.

Bray’s question from the kit room was still where he had left it. Could I want it to stay 0-0?

I had spent 40 minutes at the Etihad wanting 3-2 and nothing more, and I had got it. Would I have sat there the same way at 0-0, in the 91st minute, in Madrid?

I looked out of the coach window at Manchester going past in the dark, and I did not know.