The match settled into another stalemate.
By the 73rd minute, both managers began making changes.
City introduced Otamendi for Stones and İlkay Gündoğan for David Silva.
Guardiola had considered removing Rodri to improve the midfield's passing rhythm, but without him the defensive structure around Ling might collapse completely.
Rodri carried the responsibility of contesting headers, absorbing physical contact, and shadowing the most dangerous player on the pitch. No other City midfielder could perform all three tasks.
Guardiola had to settle for his second option.
Manchester United replaced the tiring Ashley Young with Alex Sandro, hoping the Brazilian's energy would add greater attacking threat down the left and relieve some of the pressure on Havertz.
It also provided another route toward victory.
Reach the byline.
Cross toward Ling.
Create chaos.
Then seize whatever emerged from it!
The remainder of the match became a tactical duel between the two managers: Guardiola's short passing and positional control against Mourinho's direct aerial pressure.
The tempo remained high, and the exchanges looked lively, but the players were gradually running on determination rather than physical freshness.
At this stage, the question was no longer which side possessed enough strength to score.
It was which side would finally lose the strength to defend.
A draw was barely acceptable to both.
Defeat was not.
"The attacking intensity has dropped during the last few minutes. Are we heading toward a draw?"
"De Bruyne bends a long pass over the top—what a sudden change of pace!"
"Wan-Bissaka has lost Sterling!"
Sterling burst forward and met the violently spinning ball with what appeared to be a perfect shooting posture.
He was about to become the hero of the Etihad.
Bang!
His volley traveled toward goal.
But something looked wrong.
The direction was strangely central, and the ball landed directly in De Gea's arms as though Sterling had deliberately passed it to him.
"HOW HAS HE MISSED THAT?"
"Scoring may genuinely have been easier!"
Drury's disbelief carried through the stadium.
"De Bruyne produced the pass of the night, Sterling found the space, and then presented the ball to De Gea with all the generosity of a Christmas gift!"
De Bruyne's face flushed with anger as he threw one hand through the air.
"Get back!"
Rodri's roar cut through the frustration.
Among Manchester United's regular attacking patterns, the goalkeeper-initiated counterattack was one of the most dangerous.
Instead of standing around mourning the miss, City needed to retreat.
De Gea had already begun the response.
He swung his right arm with all his strength and hurled the ball forward.
The football flew like a cannon shell through the night as red and blue shirts tore toward Manchester City's half beneath it.
"De Gea launches it!"
"Ling wins the header toward Havertz, turns, and races forward. Rodri cannot stay with him—the gap is growing with every stride!"
"Havertz only needs to release the pass..."
But the rhythm suddenly slowed.
De Bruyne had anticipated Havertz's intention and moved early to block the passing lane.
United were already short of numbers in attack, and that brief delay allowed City's players time to recover.
The chance seemed to be fading into the Etihad night.
Then Havertz produced a clever flick, escaping De Bruyne and reopening the field.
The young German lifted his head and threaded a pass through the recovering crowd.
Grealish had somehow appeared on the right side of the penalty area, occupying the ideal position for a secondary transition.
"Don't let him pass!"
Rodri shouted as he lunged toward Ling.
Why focus on Ling when Grealish had possession?
Because Rodri was certain Ling would be the final piece of the attack.
Grealish did not have time to look up. He shielded the ball with a half-turn and caught a flash of red through the edge of his vision.
A ground pass would be intercepted.
Instead, he flicked his right foot beneath the ball and lifted it toward the red shadow.
The pass flew behind Ling.
'Misplaced?'
Rodri instinctively relaxed and shortened his stride, already preparing himself for the counterattack that should follow.
With most of United's players committed forward, the space behind them was as open as a racetrack.
Then Ling looked over his shoulder.
He folded his right leg and gently flicked the ball backward with his heel.
Snap!
Under the Etihad floodlights, the football climbed from behind him and arced over his head like a sudden rainbow, carrying beyond Manchester City's final defensive line.
For a heartbeat, time appeared to slow.
Guardiola seized his head once again.
Mourinho's eyes widened.
Rodri reacted faster than anyone, emptying the final reserves of strength from his body as he chased the dropping ball.
It was useless.
Every touch from Ling now seemed impossible to predict, each one filled with imagination but grounded in perfect awareness of his balance, position, and relationship with the ball.
He allowed it to descend onto his chest.
The control was immaculate, cushioning the ball directly into the path of his next movement rather than merely stopping it.
Before Ederson could set himself, Ling struck.
The goalkeeper launched into a full-stretch dive, but his body became no more than part of the scenery.
His fingertips never reached the ball.
The net rippled.
1–2!
The roar from the Manchester United supporters burst through the Etihad!
Peter Drury's voice rose with them.
"LING HAS DONE IT AGAIN!"
"Two touches—one to turn disorder into beauty, another to turn beauty into a goal!"
"A heel flick over the defense, a chest touch of velvet, and a finish delivered before Manchester City can recover from the astonishment of the first!"
"Football teaches its fundamentals to every child: control the ball, then strike it. Jeremy Ling has taken those simplest lessons and written poetry with them!"
Beglin leaned closer to his microphone.
"That is extraordinary awareness. Grealish's pass actually goes behind him, but Ling turns the mistake—or perhaps the idea—into an advantage. The heel flick removes the defense, and the chest control prepares the finish in one motion. There is no wasted action."
"In the 81st minute, at the home of Manchester City, the Ballon d'Or winner has produced another masterpiece."
The City supporters fell into despair as United's players buried Ling beneath a wave of bodies before he could even begin his celebration.
"Ling, is the Ballon d'Or some kind of equipment that increases your attributes?"
"You're playing so well I barely recognize you!"
Matić had been Ling's teammate for two and a half years and understood his development better than almost anyone.
The younger Ling had relied on extraordinary physical gifts to overwhelm opponents, but there had often been the sense that he was serving the tactical structure, using his strength and pace to perform whatever role the match demanded.
The current Ling was different.
Now, the tactics served him.
The players, movements, and resources around the team revolved around creating the environment where he could release every part of his attacking talent.
And within that freedom, something new had appeared.
Inspiration.
"I knew you'd deal with it like that, which is why I passed behind you!" Grealish declared proudly as he arrived to claim credit.
"Someone even more shameless than me?" Maguire laughed. "You didn't even look up. That was definitely a misplaced pass."
Whether intentional or accidental, it had created a goal.
That made it a good pass.
"Jack, brilliant ball. I'll treat you later."
Ling laughed and raised a thumb.
Even he thought the goal had looked incredibly cool.
What had he been thinking in that instant?
Nothing.
His body had reacted before conscious thought arrived, making the choice through instinct, accumulated technique, and thousands of hours spent developing his relationship with the ball.
Perhaps it came from talent.
Perhaps from hard work.
Most likely, it came from both.
When Ling looked toward the coaching area, Guardiola stood motionless with both hands gripping his head.
Frustration, disbelief, reluctant delight, and despair seemed to pass across his face at once. His emotions resembled a spice rack thrown onto the floor, impossible to separate.
Eventually, he recovered enough to summon Rodri.
"Don't try to outthink him," Guardiola said sharply. "Use your body. Restrict him before he has time to invent anything."
Rodri nodded, but his expression remained dejected.
It was not as though he had avoided physical contact. He had battled Ling throughout the night, and the results had been limited.
How exactly was anyone supposed to stop him?
So many clubs, coaches, and defenders had tried. None had found a reliable answer.
The helplessness weighed on Rodri so heavily that even walking back onto the pitch felt difficult.
In the neighboring technical area, Mourinho repeatedly raised one hand and lowered it again before finally letting out a long breath.
It was not disappointment.
It was pure astonishment, the involuntary reaction of someone witnessing something beyond his expectations.
"Faria," he said quietly, "when we met him two and a half years ago, did you ever imagine this?"
"How could I?" Faria replied with a bitter smile. "We were short of wingers. Lingard and Martial were inconsistent, while Mata lacked the pace to stretch defenders."
"I thought that if Ling could eventually reach Martial's level, we'd have an excellent player. They both became Golden Boy winners, but the paths after that could hardly have been more different."
Faria shook his head.
Not only had he never imagined this.
Who could have? No one!
...
The match restarted, and Mourinho immediately made two substitutions.
McTominay replaced Havertz, while Bruno Fernandes came on for Grealish.
The intention was obvious.
Manchester United were preparing to defend their lead for the remaining minutes.
City pushed almost their entire formation forward, refusing to accept another derby defeat, but the desperation gradually damaged their organization.
De Bruyne attempted a diagonal pass toward Jesus, but Kanté read it early and stepped in front.
During the scramble that followed, Matić cleared the ball toward the touchline.
"Come toward it!" De Bruyne shouted, his anxiety finally boiling over when he saw the lack of movement around him.
"Don't shout at me!"
Jesus was equally frustrated.
He had finally scored in the derby, yet City still looked likely to lose. In his mind, his own performance was not the problem.
Everyone else was.
"I'll shout if I want!"
De Bruyne stepped toward him, pointing angrily, but Kyle Walker quickly pulled him away.
Arguments happened in football.
But the match still came first.
Yet a City side losing its unity was unlikely to threaten United in the final moments.
During stoppage time, Rodri moved the ball diagonally toward Bernardo Silva on the right flank, searching for one final attack.
Alex Sandro followed him closely and refused to offer any crossing space.
They battled all the way toward the byline, where Bernardo protected the ball and attempted to win a corner.
Sandro did not bite.
He focused on the physical duel and kept his feet, refusing to dive into a tackle.
Maguire arrived from the side and tried to muscle Bernardo out, only to discover that the smaller Portuguese midfielder was remarkably difficult to move.
Perhaps inspired by a moment of madness, Maguire suddenly came up with what he considered a brilliant solution.
He lifted Bernardo's leg and used the Portuguese player's boot to knock the ball out.
The assistant referee signaled for a goal kick.
Bernardo stared at him in silence.
After several seconds, he approached the referee and complained about Maguire's behavior.
Unfortunately, the referee's angle made the incident difficult to see, and VAR was not permitted to intervene in a decision of that kind.
Beglin burst out laughing as the replay appeared.
"Maguire has physically borrowed Bernardo Silva's leg to clear the ball."
Drury sounded equally bewildered.
"I have seen defenders play the man rather than the ball, Jim. I cannot recall seeing one play the ball with the man."
"There may not be a specific law written for that because nobody expected it would ever be necessary."
Logically, it should probably have been considered unsporting conduct and resulted in a free kick.
But it did not.
De Gea had once produced his famous seated save.
Now Maguire had introduced the borrowed-leg clearance.
Manchester United kept finding new ways to expand football's vocabulary.
Moments later, the referee brought the whistle to his mouth.
The final sound rang through the Etihad.
Manchester City 1–2 Manchester United!
Peter Drury allowed the away supporters' roar to fill the broadcast before speaking.
"MANCHESTER BELONGS TO RED AT THE END OF 2019!"
"Jeremy Ling has scored twice—two goals shaped by imagination, two wounds inflicted upon Guardiola three days before the families meet for a wedding!"
"United win the derby, win the battle at the top, and carry their advantage into a new year that already seems drawn toward their extraordinary No.7."
📰 Sky Sports: Ling Scores Two Spectacular Goals as Manchester United Win Derby 2–1
📰 BBC Sport: United End 2019 Top After Ballon d'Or Winner Sinks Manchester City
📰 Manchester Evening News: Derby Glory Before the Wedding as Ling Defeats Future Father-in-Law
📰 The Athletic: Guardiola's Plan Nearly Works, but Ling Again Operates Beyond the Plan
📱 @UnitedStand ✔
Beat City away, end the year top, and now Ling gets to attend dinner with Guardiola in three days. Perfect holiday season.
| ↳ 📱 @StretfordEndTom
| Reply: Pep has to walk his daughter down the aisle toward the man who just beat him at the Etihad. Football is beautiful.
📱 @CityZenBlue
We played well enough to win. Unfortunately, Ling exists.
📱 @NeutralPremWatch
First goal: no backswing. Second goal: heel flick, chest control, finish. Ballon d'Or form somehow wasn't his final form.
As the broadcast prepared to end, Chinese football media also confirmed the groups for the upcoming AFC U23 Championship, which would determine Asia's three representatives at the Tokyo Olympics.
Ling's name was naturally not on the playing roster.
However, his youth academy and analysis team would assist China's preparations by providing scouting reports, fitness guidance, and training resources.
If Manchester United's January schedule permitted it, Ling also intended to make a brief visit before the tournament.
He could not step onto the pitch for them.
But he could still help create a road for the players who would.