Football Dynasty

Chapter 179: Perfect Early Counterattack

Unlike the League Cup, which has three preliminary rounds before reaching the first round, City—being last season’s promoted team—had a slight advantage going into the FA Cup.

That’s because City was a promoted team. So when the league kicked off in early August, most of the other clubs—those not in the Premier League or Football League—had to fight through the qualifiers first.

Their goal? To grab one of the 28 available spots in the first round.

Once those spots were filled, September marked the start of the First Round Proper, where 48 teams from the Football League Second and Third Divisions joined in. They were matched with the 28 non-league teams that had fought their way through qualifying.

This round even included two clubs from Step 8 of the English football pyramid — one from the Isthmian League Second Division and Wisbech Town from the Eastern Counties League Premier Division.

Among all of them was City, drawn against QPR — the team that had earned promotion to the Premier League just last season.

O’Neill stepped into the press room.

It was packed — the biggest media turnout since he took over. Cameras flashed, reporters leaned in. But they weren’t here for just another First Division manager.

FA Cup. Premier League. Queens Park Rangers.

They were here because Manchester City was about to face their Premier League opponents this season.

And they wanted headlines.

The first question came immediately.

"Martin, this is your biggest game as City manager this season. Do you believe your team is ready for this level?"

O’Neill answered calmly, "We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?"

A few chuckles, but the next question was sharper.

"QPR’s squad is far stronger on paper. Realistically, how do you approach a game like this?"

O’Neill’s expression didn’t change. "Football isn’t played on paper. If it was, we wouldn’t be here."

A shift in the room. A few knowing glances exchanged.

Then came the question he’d been expecting.

"Trevor Sinclair was reportedly your target last season, but I hear Richard Maddox wasn’t keen on the signing. What do you think about that, and how do you plan to deal with him?"

O’Neill dismissed the first part, focusing only on the second. He leaned forward slightly. "Like every other opponent."

No unnecessary emotion. No distractions. Just another challenge to overcome.

A few more questions followed, but O’Neill’s demeanor never wavered. He wasn’t here to entertain. He was there to win a football match, not to play word games with the media.

And when he left the press room, his mind was already on kickoff.

PHWEEE!

And here’s Manchester City’s proof that they are ready for the Premier League.

"11 seconds! An incredible goal! A delightful play! Ronaldo finds the back of the net in just 11 seconds! That sudden counter caught QPR completely off guard, and now City take the lead!

Just after kickoff, QPR tried to play their usual style — a quick pass back to the center back, hoping to build from the back. The center back controlled the ball, scanning for options under pressure.

Suddenly, spotting a gap, he launched a long, hopeful pass over the top, aiming to catch City’s defense off guard. But City’s defenders were alert, tracking the flight of the ball and ready to pounce.

Ferdinand jumped high, outmuscling his opponent in the aerial duel, and the ball dropped neatly at Gallas’s feet. With a quick, controlled touch, Gallas passed it back to Ferdinand.

Ferdinand wasted no time. He quickly surveyed his surroundings before sliding a short pass to Roberto Carlos, who was already scanning ahead for options.

Among the center-backs, Ferdinand’s footwork stood out as noticeably sharper than Gallas’s and Materazzi’s. While not quite as elegant as Matthias Sammer or Laurent Blanc, his short passing was solid and reliable.

Like a snake, Ronaldo slipped into a gap in the middle of the pitch and waved for the ball. Roberto Carlos spotted the narrowest of windows and delivered a lightning-fast through ball that split the defense like a blade through silk.

In the blink of an eye—just seconds ago—Derby County had posed a threat to City’s goal. Now, three of City’s players were dashing forward like sprinters breaking off their blocks.

Two QPR defenders lagged behind, desperately trying to track Larsson and Lennon, who surged ahead on the flanks. In the center, Ronaldo drove forward with the ball at his feet. He was hounded by QPR’s right back and a pressing midfielder, both closing in from the sides.

From the stands, Richard marveled at Roberto Carlos’s decision-making and Ronaldo’s fierce aggression. ’What a beast!’

Executing such a pass at full sprint demanded not only exceptional technical skill, but also a visionary understanding of the game. And the receiver? Equally crucial.

Timing the run to perfection, anticipating the pass, and controlling it under pressure required a harmony between mind and movement—an unspoken language between teammates who trusted each other blindly.

No wonder, year after year, top clubs were always chasing Brazilian players—their skills alone made them worth every penny.

Receiving the ball, Ronaldo shifted sideways, slipping past QPR’s defenders before cutting sharply inside toward the middle.

Richard’s heart pounded like thunder.

What unfolded before him was the perfect execution of his counterattack strategy.

The players surged forward in a lightning-fast counter.

Ronaldo, carrying the ball, moved swiftly from left to center, driving into the opponent’s penalty box. Meanwhile, Larsson, spotting the space Ronaldo left behind, quickly shifted to occupy the open left flank. From behind, Neil Lennon was already positioned on the right side, ready to support Ronaldo’s move also.

A QPR defender lunged forward, desperate to stop Ronaldo, but couldn’t poke the ball away from his feet.

Ronaldo danced past him like a shadow—light, swift, and impossible to catch—his every move fluid and precise, leaving the defender grasping at air instead of his jersey.

On the left, Larsson was already in position, and on the right, Lennon held his ground.

The last defender—the center-back up front—knew Ronaldo’s game.

Everyone expected him to take on the defender with his dribbling skills. But just as the defender braced himself, Ronaldo nudged the ball to Larsson, completely catching him off guard.

"Crap!"

Behind him, the space was wide open.

The left-back, who was supposed to mark Neil Lennon on the right, stepped up to help block Larsson—and that’s where he messed up. He should’ve stuck to Lennon, but instead, he got pulled out of position, leaving Lennon wide open.

Larsson spotted the chance immediately. Instead of trying to beat the goalie one-on-one, he sent a sharp, low cross straight to Lennon.

Unmarked.

No keeper in sight.

Because everyone’s eyes were glued to Larsson.

What could they do?

Lennon just headed the ball in like it was nothing.

"GOOOAAALLL!!! Neil Lennon! 11 seconds! Cool as you like! Manchester City draw first blood, and it’s a masterclass in movement and misdirection!" the commentator shouted.

"What a sequence — Ronaldo carving through the middle, Larsson pulling defenders like a magnet, and Lennon? Ice cold. That’s a team goal at its finest. QPR didn’t even know what hit them!" the co-commentator added.

After Lennon scored, he turned and pointed at Ronaldo with a big grin, sprinting over to celebrate. The other players gathered around, reveling in the moment.

The technique, the fluidity — truly a visual delight.

Manchester City 1 – 0 Queens Park Rangers.

For the next ten minutes, QPR began to show signs of frustration. From the first whistle, they played with the intent to dictate possession through crisp, confident passing.

Unexpectedly, City showed no sign of panic. They dropped into their defensive shape, staying compact and forcing QPR to work for every inch of space.

And now, the first warning came—they’ve been caught off guard and conceded a goal.

Of course, QPR were no amateurs—they quickly shifted gears and adapted their approach. Trevor Sinclair slipped into a pocket of space between the lines.

With a clever feint, he sent Savage the wrong way, and before anyone could blink, he threaded a perfectly weighted pass straight through the heart of City’s defense.

Ian Halloway, another midfielder, peeled off Gallas’s shoulder with sharp precision. Taking a crisp first touch, he unleashed a low, powerful shot aimed at the far corner.

For a brief moment, Maine Road collectively held its breath.

Then—Lehmann sprang into action, diving low to his right. His fingertips just grazed the ball, pushing it past the post and keeping the score safe.

On the touchline, O’Neill barely moved—but his mind was racing.

’That was far too easy.’

He turned sharply to Robertson, his assistant. "We’re giving Sinclair too much space. Clamp down tighter."

The message was relayed, and City adjusted.

Savage and Van Bommel, the hard tacklers, battled Sinclair every time he got the ball—probing him, shoving him, and kicking him whenever they could.

PHWEEE!

The whistle blew, and the referee showed a yellow card to Robbie Savage, who feigned innocence as he asked, "What did I do?"

Richard shook his head from the stands.

Classic Savage and Van Bommel—fiery tempers, always on the edge. It wasn’t the first time they picked up a silly card for nothing, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

RING~

Just as Richard was settling in to enjoy more of the match, his phone buzzed unexpectedly. Instinctively, he glanced at the screen.

The moment he saw the caller ID, his eyes lit up.

Karren Brady!

The very one who was currently on assignment in France, working on a project for Adidas and FC Girondins.

Without hesitation, Richard stood up and made his way to the restroom—wanting to take the call somewhere quieter, away from the roar of the crowd.

"I have a situation here," Karren’s voice came through, low and urgent.

Richard closed the restroom door behind him and leaned against the wall, the muffled roar of the stadium now a distant hum.

"Tell me," he said calmly, already shifting into problem-solving mode.