Chapter 196: Four Goals! The Final Tactical Piece! The First Title of 2010
February 17, evening — Stade de Gerland, Lyon, France.
"Welcome, viewers around the world, to Sky Sports!"
"Tonight, we bring you the first leg of the 2009/10 UEFA Champions League Round of 16!"
"It's the French giants Lyon at home, taking on Premier League side the Bayswater Chinese."
"A clash between two elite clubs from Ligue 1 and the Premier League."
"There are 40,000 Lyon fans packing the Stade de Gerland tonight."
"The atmosphere is electric."
"Tonight's referee is 42-year-old FIFA official Roberto Rosetti from Italy."
"Both teams are in position. The match is about to begin."
"Lyon are lining up in a 4-2-3-1 formation tonight."
"Head coach Claude Puel said in a pre-match interview that even though they're at home, Lyon plan to focus on solid defense to stop the Bayswater Chinese."
Lyon's Starting XI:
GK: Coupet
Defenders: Aly Cissokho, Cris, Boumsong, Anthony Réveillère
Midfield: Maxime Gonalons, Kim Källström (double pivot); Bastos, Pjanić, Ederson (attacking mids)
Forward: Lisandro López
"Lyon are playing their strongest XI, clearly hoping to take a result at home."
"The Bayswater Chinese, meanwhile, are dealing with a brutal fixture schedule, no winter break, and the harshest winter in 30 years—plus a string of injuries."
"But Yang Cheng is sticking with his tried-and-tested 4-3-3."
Bayswater Chinese Starting XI:
GK: Manuel Neuer
Defenders: Ryan Bertrand, Thiago Silva, Pepe, Łukasz Piszczek
Midfield: Nemanja Matić (holding), Ivan Rakitić, Luka Modrić
Forwards: Gareth Bale, Robert Lewandowski, Theo Walcott
"Both teams are taking this match extremely seriously."
"Now let's see—will the home advantage prevail for Lyon, or will the Bayswater Chinese flip the script in France?"
...
With referee Rosetti's whistle, the Bayswater Chinese took the opening kickoff and immediately recycled possession back to their defense.
As Thiago Silva took his first touch, Lyon striker Lisandro López sprinted in to press.
The Brazilian calmly laid it off to Ryan Bertrand.
Bertrand had seen plenty of action this season and was a pet project of Yang Cheng's.
Marcelo had a knock and was fatigued from back-to-back games, so Bertrand got the start.
The English left-back sent the ball forward before Ederson could close down, feeding Matić, who relayed it to Rakitić.
A swift sequence of one-touch passes launched a quick attack.
As the ball crossed the halfway line, Lyon dropped back immediately, abandoning the press in favor of a deep defensive block.
Rakitić couldn't find a forward pass and turned it over to Modrić.
The captain took the ball into Lyon's final third, drifting into the right half-space.
It looked like he might combine with Lewandowski, but instead, with his left foot, he whipped an inch-perfect lob over the defense.
Bale broke free from Réveillère, making a diagonal run into the box.
But Coupet was off his line like a bullet, snatching the ball before Bale could reach it.
The Lyon fans roared in appreciation—a vintage bit of anticipation and aggression from the veteran keeper.
But their smiles faded fast.
The Bayswater Chinese didn't back off—they stayed in the final third and pressed high.
This drew thunderous jeers from the home crowd.
The visitors were supposed to show some respect—this was Lyon's home.
Yet from the first whistle, they had shown no mercy, pressing hard and high.
Coupet rolled the ball out to Boumsong, who played it to Gonalons.
Under pressure, Gonalons was forced to retreat and pass back to Cris.
Every Bayswater Chinese attacker was pressing—Lewandowski had just harassed Boumsong and was now cutting off Gonalons and pressing Cris.
Gonalons, harried by Modrić, tried to pass between Cris and left-back Aly Cissokho.
It was rushed, a clear "not-my-problem" type of pass—just boot it forward and let someone else deal with it.
Cris and Cissokho both chased the ball.
Cissokho, only 22, had joined from Porto the previous summer for €16 million and quickly earned a starting spot.
But his performances had been inconsistent.
He saw Cris already ahead of him and decided to slow down—maybe to space out, maybe expecting a pass.
Cris, meanwhile, could feel Lewandowski breathing down his neck.
The Polish striker wasn't just fast—he radiated menace.
So Cris tried to pass quickly to Cissokho down the line.
But Lewandowski had read it.
He surged forward, extended his right foot, and blocked the pass cleanly.
The ball bounced perfectly.
Lewandowski immediately pressed in, shoulder-to-shoulder with Cris.
At 32 and just 1.83 meters tall, the Brazilian was past his peak.
With Lewandowski leaning in, Cris lost balance.
Lewandowski spun around, nudged the ball forward, and accelerated toward the byline.
Cris recovered and gave chase, pulling Lewandowski slightly, trying to stay inside his lane.
But the chance was gone.
Lewandowski reached the end line, squared the ball toward the penalty spot.
And there was Gareth Bale, arriving like a missile.
He met the pass with a crisp left-footed strike, sending it low and hard into the right corner.
Goal!
Gasps echoed through the Lyon stands—shock and awe.
Bale clenched his fists and sprinted off in celebration.
Behind him, Lewandowski, Walcott, and the rest of the team chased him down, celebrating wildly.
1–0!
And the game had barely passed the 1-minute mark!
...
This is the magic of football.
No one—not even the world's best tacticians—can predict when or how a goal will come.
That's what makes it beautiful.
Every goal is a thrill.
But sometimes, early goals come with a curse.
After that 1st-minute strike, not a single goal followed for the next 90 minutes.
Lyon, stung by the early blow, locked down their defense for the rest of the match.
Lyon left only Lisandro López up front for counters—everyone else was packed into defense.
According to Sky Sports, Claude Puel had been spooked by the Bayswater Chinese's opening blitz.
In just the first 10 minutes, they unleashed 6 shots, 4 of them on target.
Who wouldn't be terrified?
But despite this clear upper hand, Yang Cheng didn't push for the kill.
There was no need.
They'd landed an early blow with that opening-minute goal, and they were away from home. Why risk going toe-to-toe with Lyon?
Especially now—right in the thick of the most intense part of the season.
Save your legs when you can.
In the end, the match finished 1–0, thanks to Gareth Bale's goal in the first minute.
At the post-match press conference, Yang Cheng smiled and said he was completely satisfied.
"This was exactly according to plan."
"Let's leave the real drama for the second leg, back at our home ground."
Naturally, reporters brought up the biggest story of the week—Liverpool's takeover by a Saudi consortium.
It was the first time Yang Cheng had been cornered into commenting.
He laughed and deflected:
"I'm not clear on the details."
"But for us at the Bayswater Chinese, it doesn't really matter who our opponent is."
"The result's the same."
"We'll stay focused on what we need to do—playing our football, winning our games."
Of course, another hot topic was Andy Carroll.
£40 million, the record winter signing.
£90,000-a-week, huge wages.
All eyes were on him.
But since joining Chelsea, he hadn't shown any of the form he'd had under Yang Cheng.
Some media outlets even joked that Chelsea had bought the player—
but forgot to pick up the user manual.
Yang Cheng smiled and declined to comment.
But the look on his face said it all:
Let Chelsea deal with the mess.
...
Back in the Premier League, it was Matchday 27.
Arsenal beat Sunderland 2–0 at home.Chelsea won 2–0 away at Wolves, with Drogba scoring a brace—loudly reminding everyone that Carroll wasn't ready to challenge him yet.
Meanwhile, Liverpool seemed invigorated by the takeover news.
They went toe-to-toe with Manchester City and drew 0–0 at the City of Manchester Stadium.
Despite intense criticism and calls for his resignation, Benítez outfoxed Ancelotti tactically this time.
The Bayswater Chinese returned from France to visit Fulham—and the match ended 1–1.
Walcott scored just three minutes in.
But in the 91st minute, Duff struck on the counter to equalize.
The biggest shock of the round?
Manchester United.
Ferguson's side took the lead at Goodison Park—only to concede three unanswered goals.
1–3 loss.
Sir Alex had been beaten by the man many called his heir apparent.
After 27 rounds:
Arsenal and Manchester City both had 64 points, but Arsenal led on goal difference.The Bayswater Chinese were third with 61 points.Manchester United were fourth with 57.Chelsea followed in fifth with 54.Liverpool, even after their draw with City, sat eighth on 45 points.
At this stage, the title race was clear.
Manchester United?
Chances of catching Arsenal and City were fading.
The Bayswater Chinese, with two games in hand, were the most likely threat.
Ferguson's side was now playing for a Champions League spot.
Chelsea, fresh off surviving the Africa Cup of Nations stretch, were just three points behind them—
and had no European distractions.
...
February 28 was both the League Cup final and Matchday 28.
So the two finalists, the Bayswater Chinese and Manchester City, moved their league fixtures forward to midweek.
Yang Cheng's side hosted Wigan Athletic.
City visited Stamford Bridge to face Chelsea.
Sure, the League Cup wasn't the most prestigious trophy—
But it was still a trophy.
Still, City's main priority was the Premier League title.
Yang Cheng was certain Ancelotti would go all in.
By comparison, Yang Cheng rotated selectively—resting some regulars while keeping enough firepower for the League Cup final.
Wigan set up in a 5-4-1, aiming to bunker deep.
The match began as usual:
The Bayswater Chinese attacked first.
In the 6th minute, Rakitić slid a through ball into the box.
Gareth Bale burst down the left and smashed it home.
1–0!
The stadium erupted.
The game quickly fell into a tactical deadlock.
Until the 20th minute.
Lewandowski received the ball in the box, spun past Caldwell—and was taken down from behind.
The foul happened right in front of the ref.
Straight red card for Caldwell.
Lewandowski took the penalty himself.
Cool. Precise. 2–0!
That goal opened the floodgates.
Now a man up, and Wigan without their defensive anchor?
It was a slaughter.
In the 34th minute, Modrić curled in a cross from the right.
Di María controlled it in the box and slotted home.
3–0!
Just two minutes later, Piszczek sent in a diagonal cross from the right.
Bale flew in at the far post and headed it in.
Brace for Bale. 4–0!
Then, in the 43rd minute, Marcelo whipped in a cross from the left.
Lewandowski met it with a spectacular volley to make it 5–0!
And in stoppage time, Marcelo again broke into the box, danced past Melchiot, and squared it.
Lewandowski tapped in.
6–0! Hat trick!
Wembley was on fire.
The first half ended 6–0.
In the second half, just nine minutes in, fans witnessed something outrageous:
Kyle Walker, the young full-back, sprinted side by side with Di María in a race down the right wing.
And he was faster.
The crowd went wild.
Who'd ever seen a right-back race his own winger like that?
Despite Walker's speed, it was Di María who cut inside and delivered a clever through ball.
Lewandowski broke free, slotted it home again—
7–0! FOUR GOALS!
The Polish striker sprinted out of the pitch in ecstasy, charging straight to the sidelines, roaring in celebration at the crowd.
And the fans responded with thunderous cheers and a standing ovation.
It was a four-goal haul!
The last player to do that in a Bayswater Chinese shirt? The Russian czar, Andrey Arshavin.
Now he was the star of Arsenal.
Yang Cheng immediately made a substitution.
He brought off the red-hot Lewandowski to rest him and gave Olivier Giroud a chance to get a feel for the rhythm of the match.
Soon after, he also took off Modrić.
With the double substitution, the Bayswater Chinese's attacking momentum dipped slightly.
Giroud still hadn't settled into the team, and as a result, the link-up play in the final third suffered.
It wasn't just the coaching staff trying to figure out how to use Giroud—he too was trying to figure out how to contribute.
Finally, in the 81st minute, Giroud pulled into the left half-space, dropped deep to receive a pass from Marcelo, and quickly laid it off back to the wing.
Bale took over, burst down the left side of the penalty area, and squared it.
Marcelo, arriving at the edge of the box, struck first-time—goal.
8–0.
...
While the entire Premier League was still reeling from the Bayswater Chinese's eight-goal demolition and Lewandowski's four-goal masterpiece, another midweek clash was unfolding in London.
Chelsea vs Manchester City at Stamford Bridge.
It wasn't just a clash of titans—there was an added layer of drama.
This was the infamous "Wife-Gate Derby"—where Wayne Bridge and John Terry would face off.
With Leighton Baines injured, Bridge had started several matches in a row.
But no one expected what happened during the pre-match handshake—
Bridge outright refused to shake Terry's hand, leaving the Chelsea captain awkward and exposed.
As if spurred on by vengeance for their teammate, City came out swinging—and tore Chelsea's defense apart.
The final score?
Chelsea 2–4 Manchester City
And Chelsea picked up two red cards in the process.
A total collapse for the Blues.
What truly rattled the club was how their once-proud defense fell apart.
Terry looked lost.
Mikel was invisible.
It was alarming.
Last season, they missed out on the Champions League—a failure blamed on managerial instability.
But this season?
Sitting fifth in the table and constantly underperforming in big matches?
At Stamford Bridge, they got smashed.
The press piled on:
"Who can Chelsea beat right now?"
Meanwhile, their West London rivals, the Bayswater Chinese, had just thrashed Wigan 8–0 at home.
Chelsea?
Blown away 2–4 by City—
On the same day.
Their fans were fuming.
Even the media joined in, claiming Chelsea were no longer the team they once were.
And with Liverpool's takeover by the Saudi sovereign wealth fund, the Blues' future seemed uncertain.
...
That weekend, Manchester United beat West Ham 3–0 at home.
Arsenal won 3–1 away at Stoke.
Even Liverpool, recently reinvigorated by the takeover, beat Blackburn 2–1 at Anfield.
Everyone was on the up—
Except Chelsea.
...
February 28, 3:00 PM — Wembley Stadium, London.
League Cup Final: Bayswater Chinese vs Manchester City.
In the 34th minute, City midfielder Pirlo tried to launch a long ball toward the right flank for Bellamy.
Thiago Silva stepped up and cut it off just outside the box, thumping it downfield toward midfield.
De Jong won the header under pressure from Marcelo, knocking it sideways toward Pirlo in the center circle.
But Aaron Ramsey read it early, stepped in, and intercepted.
One touch—and a diagonal through ball, right between City's three defensive midfielders.
At the same moment, a red blur exploded from the left side of midfield—
Gareth Bale.
He surged past Zabaleta and raced toward the ball.
The stadium erupted:
"GARETH BALE!!!"
"It's the Bayswater Chinese counterattack!"
"Bale down the left—it's blistering!"
The Welshman controlled the ball in stride.
But looming ahead was Brazilian center-back Lúcio.
The veteran wasn't easy to beat once he got close.
Bale didn't hesitate. He nudged the ball away from the box, toward the left corner of the area—then accelerated again.
He slipped past Lúcio, reached the ball at the edge of the box, and whipped a low cross into the center.
It skipped past Olivier Giroud, who was still behind the penalty spot with Lescott marking him.
The ball flew across the six-yard box…
And then—
A second red blur.
Walcott.
Bridge was chasing desperately, but he couldn't catch the Little Tiger.
Walcott struck it first-time with the inside of his right foot, sending it low into the bottom-left corner.
Joe Hart was still on the right side of the goal and had no chance.
GOAL!
The stadium exploded.
Walcott leaped into the air, spinning in celebration, before charging over to the left corner to embrace Bale.
The two of them had done it again.
"1–0!"
"And once again it's that signature connection between Bale and Walcott!"
"The Bayswater Chinese's twin lightning bolts have struck—blinding speed, unmatched chemistry!"
"But the one looking truly out of place might be the newly signed French striker Olivier Giroud…"
"As Bale's pass rolled through the box, you can almost imagine Giroud thinking—'How the hell do I keep up with that?'"
"Also suffering? Wayne Bridge."
...
From the moment Yang Cheng saw City's lineup, he knew what Ancelotti was thinking.
The Italian manager had one priority now:
The league title.
For the League Cup—often considered a "chicken rib" trophy—Ancelotti's approach was clear:
"Nice to have, but not a priority."
Sure, his starting lineup still featured names like Lúcio, Lescott, Pirlo, and Adebayor.
But core players like Yaya Touré, Kaká, and Tévez—who had been phenomenal this season—were nowhere to be seen.
Three days ago, City had battered Chelsea 4–2 at Stamford Bridge.
But the cost was high.
So for this final, Ancelotti rotated heavily.
What he didn't expect?
That after a long stalemate, the Bayswater Chinese would break through in the 34th minute—
with the deadly combo of Gareth Bale and Walcott.
Yang Cheng had also given Giroud a start, aiming to accelerate his integration into the team.
As a tactical target man, he needed time to adjust to the pace of teammates like Bale, Walcott, and Di María.
Especially their blistering speed and direct style.
Blending into a new squad is never easy—and certainly not instantaneous.
Yang Cheng and his staff were patient.
They would give Giroud the time and support he needed.
Halftime: 1–0.
In the dressing room, Yang Cheng expressed satisfaction with the team's performance but urged them to stay alert.
He warned them: City would hit back.
Once Ancelotti saw a window, he would throw everything at turning the game around.
After all, Yaya Touré and Kaká were sitting on that bench.
Yang Cheng's instructions?
"We strike first in the second half. Get another goal, and we take control of the final."
...
Second half.
The Bayswater Chinese came out swinging.
Just as Yang Cheng had predicted, Ancelotti didn't make any immediate changes—trying to keep the match balanced first.
But the Bayswater Chinese kept pressing, and City's back line started to crack.
51st minute.
Giroud dropped into the hole to receive a pass from Matić near the top of the arc.
He laid it off first time to Modrić.
As he released the ball, Giroud glanced both left and right.
He saw Bale and Walcott pushing up—both hovering just outside the penalty area.
Even though he'd only been at the club for a few weeks, Giroud understood what that meant.
It was time to attack.
Modrić, the team's brain, dictated where the next phase would go.
The ball went sideways to Ramsey, then out to the left for Marcelo.
Bale had already moved into the left edge of the box.
Marcelo overlapped until he was level with Ramsey.
City defenders were wary now.
Marcelo feinted inside and whipped in a diagonal pass with his left foot.
Giroud, standing sideways, immediately read the ball's trajectory and moved into position.
He used his strong frame to shield the ball from both Pirlo and De Jong, chesting it down cleanly.
As the ball dropped, Giroud delicately flicked it over De Jong's shoulder into the penalty area.
At that same moment, Gareth Bale sprinted laterally into the space from the left corner of the box.
He cushioned Giroud's pass with the inside of his left foot, set his right foot, and—
Boom.
A low, snapping strike with his right foot—his weaker side.
The ball zipped just past the lunging Lúcio, bounced once, and skidded past Joe Hart, nestling inside the left post.
"GOAL!!!"
"51st minute—another one for the Bayswater Chinese!"
"It's Gareth Bale again—this time with a right-footed drive inside the box!"
"City's defense broke down just enough, and the visitors punished them ruthlessly."
"A brilliant attacking sequence!"
"Giroud played the perfect role—shielding, laying off, and slipping in a lovely through ball."
"And Bale—he didn't hesitate. Right foot or not—he buried it!"
The stadium erupted again.
Fans roared Bale's name in unison.
Gareth Bale was in the form of his life.
He'd now scored 14 Premier League goals this season, second only to Lewandowski on the team.
Already surpassing his total from last year.
More importantly, his entire skill set had matured—he was more dangerous, more complete.
Left-wing breakaways had become a trademark.
He could now cut inside from the right just as effectively.
And now?
A left-sided cut-in, followed by a right-footed finish.
Even Yang Cheng couldn't help but clap on the touchline.
"This kid's arsenal is really coming together," Brian Kidd said proudly.
Bale was on a meteoric rise—and showing no signs of slowing.
What made it more impressive?
He was putting in the work.
Free kicks. Right foot. Finishing.
He trained relentlessly.
Yang Cheng had never once doubted Gareth Bale's professionalism.
In his previous life, people mocked Bale's obsession with golf.
But to Yang Cheng, it always felt more like a form of escape.
After all, if he had truly been obsessed, why didn't he practice golf earlier in his career?
It was the injuries.
Bale had been plagued by them.
Each time he recovered, each time he fought to return—he was cut down again.
One or two setbacks you can overcome.
But when they come over and over again?
Even the strongest break.
That's the curse of the modern footballer.
But early in his career, Bale had been ambitious.
He wanted to aim for football's greatest prizes.
Eventually, repeated injuries made him realize—maybe he wouldn't reach the summit after all.
That's when he turned to golf.
And Yang Cheng understood.
That's why at the Bayswater Chinese, Bale and Walcott were protected at all costs.
Especially Bale.
From his diet to his training schedule, from muscle-building to match monitoring—he was under constant, tailored supervision.
The goal?
To prevent injury at all costs.
So far, the plan was working beautifully.
His muscle gain was especially noticeable.
His physicality had skyrocketed—making him a nightmare for defenders.
Sometimes, he could even fill in at center-forward.
But this wasn't his final form yet.
Yang Cheng's next mission?
Unleash the full attacking potential of the front line.
From the last few matches, it was clear: Olivier Giroud was a very smart player.
A cerebral footballer.
One small detail said it all—just before receiving Marcelo's pass, he had scanned the field several times and reacted in sync with Modrić.
That was his intelligence at work.
With Lewandowski, Giroud, and a budding Harry Kane, Yang Cheng finally felt at ease with his striker options.
Walcott, on the other hand… was still a bit of a problem.
At 1.76 meters, he wasn't exactly short.
But his naturally slight frame made physical battles against defenders a challenge.
Right now, Walcott was more of a wingman—a counterattack weapon.
In tight games, he could sneak in with well-timed runs and create danger.
But that kind of play relies heavily on awareness and experience—especially in off-ball movement.
Yang Cheng's preferred front four—Bale, Lewandowski, Walcott, and Di María—were all players who thrived in space.
The Bayswater Chinese still lacked sufficient lateral movement in the final third to unlock teams consistently.
He was still waiting.
Waiting for that final tactical piece.
Waiting for Uli Hoeneß at Bayern to call.
...
The match unfolded exactly as Yang Cheng had expected.
After conceding the second goal, Manchester City launched a counterattack.
From the 55th to the 65th minute, Ancelotti made two consecutive substitutions.
Kaká and Yaya Touré came on.
By the 70th minute, he subbed off Bellamy and brought on Carlos Tévez, boosting City's firepower even further.
This was not the old mid-table Manchester City anymore.
Under Ancelotti's guidance, they had become a serious, balanced threat.
Their transitions were sharp. Their buildup, aggressive.
In the 81st minute, City won the ball in midfield.
Kaká drove forward and released a diagonal ball to the left, picking out Adebayor.
The big striker charged forward, muscling past Kyle Walker and Kompany to reach the left side of the box.
He managed to shake off Walker and create a shooting angle—fired—
Blocked by Kompany.
But Kaká arrived on the scene instantly.
He pounced on the rebound and sent a low through ball between Thiago Silva and the goal.
Tévez broke free and calmly slotted it past Neuer.
1–2.
City were back in it.
They smelled blood—and surged forward recklessly.
Yang Cheng started subbing defensively.
With Adebayor, Tévez, Kaká, Pirlo, and Yaya Touré on the pitch, City's attack was frightening.
And many of those players were fresh—subbed on with energy to spare.
The Bayswater Chinese had been fighting on multiple fronts for weeks.
Yang Cheng wisely decided to pull back.
Matuidi came on for Modrić.
Ryan Bertrand replaced Bale.
And Yang Cheng noticed something: Bertrand was surprisingly reliable defensively.
More solid than Marcelo.
And faster, too.
So he placed Bertrand ahead of Marcelo—
Giving the Brazilian license to roam.
Because whenever Marcelo pushed up, Bertrand dropped back to cover.
It was reminiscent of how Di Matteo used Bertrand in the 2012 Champions League Final.
With their defensive shape restored, City couldn't find a way through.
Especially with Kompany now a mature, commanding presence alongside Thiago Silva.
And on the counter, the Bayswater Chinese kept City cautious.
In the end, they held firm and beat Manchester City 2–1.
...
"We should've won that match!"
Ancelotti was fuming post-match, while the Bayswater Chinese were busy celebrating.
Their first trophy of 2010!
Sure, it was "just" the League Cup.
But a trophy is a trophy.
Ancelotti, however, wasn't buying it.
"You should thank Chelsea. If they hadn't worn us down midweek, I wouldn't have fielded this lineup."
His round, flushed face said it all: Not happy.
Yang Cheng saw right through him and laughed.
"You should thank Phil Dowd. If he hadn't gone easy on you, you guys would've been finished earlier."
"Bullshit! That tackle from Lescott on Walcott in the 15th minute was a yellow at best!"
Ancelotti snapped.
Yang Cheng laughed again.
"See? Guilty conscience. I never even said which foul—you confessed before I could finish."
Ancelotti scowled.
This damn kid—not only did he win the match and take the trophy, but he was also rubbing it in.
"Let me tell you—at halftime, I watched the replay. Lescott was the last man. That's a tactical foul. No argument."
"Walcott was already past him before the contact. That's a red. If Lescott had stayed in front, then sure—yellow."
Football moves fast. Refs don't get replays.
Hard to say, in real-time, if Lescott was in front or behind.
But the broadcast replay didn't lie.
"Don't take it personally, dear Ancelotti," Yang Cheng said, gently nudging the Italian with his shoulder.
"But if Lescott had been sent off in the 15th minute, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
He paused—then added with a smirk:
"And don't forget—just three days ago, a team with ten men ate eight goals from us."
That match had broken Wigan's chairman Dave Whelan on live TV.
And had Lescott been dismissed early here?
Yang Cheng really would've gone for a big scoreline.
Ancelotti pouted. For once, he couldn't think of a comeback.
Truth was, he knew—Yang Cheng was right.
He'd watched the replays himself. That yellow card was generous.
But now? It didn't matter.
The Bayswater Chinese had won.
If they'd lost, Yang Cheng would've absolutely ripped the referee to pieces.
In the Premier League, refs were always the scapegoats.
They were used to it.
"Oh, and Carlo," Yang Cheng added casually,
"Tell Wenger—he'd better push harder."
"We're catching up quick!"
Ancelotti cursed inwardly.
Damn it!
That's the kind of confidence you get when you've got two games in hand...
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