Chapter 140: Straordinario!

The fixtures in May were crucial.

Swansea City, Leyton Orient, and Bradford City were Manchester City’s first three opponents. Richard paid particular attention to these matches, even setting aside his ever-growing workload to focus on them.

Three games that would determine whether O’Neill—his tactics, leadership, and reputation for "material management"—had truly been worth it.

Richard met with O’Neill before the match against Swansea City.

"To be honest, playing a pressing style isn’t really my type..." O’Neill said, pausing. Then he looked directly at Richard. "But I have to admit, I’ve gotten addicted to this kind of football."

A chill ran down his spine every time his players won the ball high up the pitch and the crowd let out a collective "woaaaah"—a sound more suited to a theatre than a football stadium.

"Wycombe was never like this," he added, his voice laced with emotion.

Richard just watched silently, waiting for O’Neill to continue. After all, he had shown up early that morning—clearly, he had something to say.

"I’ve already checked all the players you recommended," O’Neill said suddenly.

Hearing this, Richard straightened his back.

"How is it?"

Manchester City was different from other English clubs—transfer decisions were entirely in Richard’s hands. The manager’s role was simply to assess whether the players met his standards and give the final approval.

O’Neill handed over a list of names he believed best fit his vision. When Richard scanned the names, his eyes jumped.

"You want to play pressing football again next season?"

O’Neill shook his head. "Not quite. In the lower leagues—First and Second Division—it’s better to play smart. Most clubs rely on wing play and crosses to score headers. The key is to set up for counter-attacks."

Richard nodded at this.

O’Neill then continued, "What I envision for next season is a team that can transition quickly from defense to attack—capitalizing on opportunities in transition. Win the second balls, and then the goals. That’s it."

Richard nodded thoughtfully. "Alright. I’ll start working on it now," he said simply, before they parted ways.

From a fitness perspective, Manchester City had the advantage going into the match against Swansea City.

The Swans had just come off a physically and emotionally draining milestone—their first-ever appearance at Wembley!

And they had reason to celebrate.

Swansea had just claimed their first trophy of the season, defeating Huddersfield Town on penalties to win the 1994 Football League Trophy.

Confidence was at an all-time high for Swansea, but high spirits didn’t necessarily mean fresh legs.

O’Neill recognized this and adjusted his approach.

"They’re going to control possession," he said. "Let them have the ball—but we’ll hit them hard on the break."

For the first time in weeks, the usual high-pressing approach was shelved. In its place, O’Neill prioritized compactness and counter-attacks. He had a clear reason: to conserve his players’ stamina for the next crucial fixture.

As always, the lineup remained unchanged.

Campbell and Ferdinand formed a solid defensive wall at the center.

Cafu and Roberto Carlos operated as wing-backs, responsible for both covering the flanks and launching quick counter-attacks.

Gallas was deployed further up, tasked with breaking up Swansea’s rhythm in midfield.

Up front, Ronaldo led the line—his role focused on making explosive runs the moment City regained possession, linking up with Emile Heskey to finish the job.

O’Neill nodded. "We’ll need Shay at his best today."

Robertson smirked. "Don’t worry, Terry’s already worked him hard beneath the crossbar."

Terry Gennoe, the current goalkeeper coach, had been preparing Shay Given for this very moment.

PHWEEE!

The referee blew the whistle.

Swansea’s Early Domination

From the start, Swansea dictated the tempo. Their midfielders moved the ball quickly, looking to break through City’s low defensive block.

Their full-backs surged forward, immediately putting pressure on Roberto Carlos and Cafu. But they soon realized it would be difficult to break through deeper. So, they opted to play early crosses, intending to feed their strikers—tall, physical target men, Steve Torpey and Andy McFarlane.

By the 10th minute, Swansea had their first big chance. A cross from the right found Torpey in the box. He rose above Ferdinand and powered a header toward goal.

But Given was ready.

The Irish goalkeeper reacted instantly, diving to his left and getting a strong hand to the ball, pushing it away.

Richard clapped from the director’s box.

"Nice catch!"

Despite Swansea’s dominance, City weren’t content to just sit back. In the 12th minute, they found their first real counter-attacking opportunity, just two minutes after Swansea had threatened with a dangerous attack.

Gallas intercepted a pass in midfield and quickly fed the ball to Cafu, who turned and played a precise through-ball to Emile Heskey in the middle.

The towering striker surged down the left, cutting inside to create space. He had options—he could pass to Solskjær in the box or take the shot himself.

He chose the latter.

Heskey curled a shot toward the bottom corner, but Freestone, Swansea’s keeper, reacted swiftly, diving to make the save.

Richard shook his head and sighed. "Should’ve squared it to Solskjær. Emile’s rushing his decisions again."

It remained 0-0, but at least City had shown they could be a threat on the counter.

Richard rubbed his chin in thought. This time, O’Neill had chosen a midfield trio of Ian Ferguson, Mike Phelan, and Tony Grant, with Phelan positioned just in front of Gallas.

"They haven’t broken through yet, but Phelan’s becoming a weakness," Richard murmured.

It exposed a significant flaw in O’Neill’s setup, as Swansea consistently took advantage of Mike Phelan’s habit of being a step slow with his passes.

At Manchester United, Phelan could afford to take his time, shielded by players like Bryan Robson, Wallace, Neil Webb and Paul Ince. But in City’s system, the moment he received the ball, Swansea’s players immediately swarmed him, forcing him into mistakes.

Richard made a mental note of this. If O’Neill hadn’t made any changes and still opted to use Phelan in the second half, he decided it was time to be ruthless. Even he could see the issue from here, and as a manager, if O’Neill hadn’t noticed it yet, it meant it might be time for a change in leadership.

The referee blew the whistle for halftime.

Halftime Score: 0-0.

O’Neill walked into the dressing room, his mind already working through possible adjustments. The players sat down, exhausted from defending for 45 minutes, but their legs weren’t as heavy as Swansea’s players, who had been running nonstop.

"We’re doing well," O’Neill said, pacing in front of them. "They haven’t broken through. Given’s been excellent. Campbell and Ferdinand are keeping the defense tight. Gallas has also played well to disrupt them."

He paused. "But we need to be smarter. Our counters aren’t dangerous enough. We’re giving the ball away too cheaply."

He turned to Phelan

"You’re getting bullied in midfield. When you get the ball, move it faster. Don’t wait for them to close you down."

Phelan nodded, still catching his breath. In the first half, his task was to organize City’s defense to contain the Swans’ threat. As a player-manager, it was easier for him to coordinate the team directly on the pitch. Now, his job was done—but still, talking is always easier than doing it on the field. Physically, he was spent.

O’Neill shook his head at the situation, then glanced at his bench. He needed fresh legs in attack. After a brief moment of thought, he made his decision.

"Keith, you’re in. Phelan, you’re off."

The 17-year-old Keith Gillespie looked up in surprise. "Me, boss?"

O’Neill nodded. "I need more pace on the right. Get forward whenever we counter."

Ever since the three loanees—Ian Ferguson, Tony Grant, and Ian Taylor—returned from injury, his place in the starting lineup had been in jeopardy. He hadn’t featured much lately, and today was his chance to make an impact.

Gillespie took a deep breath and nodded with determination.

O’Neill clapped his hands together. "Alright, keep it tight at the back, and when we attack, commit to it. One goal could win this."

The players stood up, ready for the second half.

Richard watched as the City players emerged from the tunnel for the second half.

When he saw the fourth official signal the substitution—veteran midfielder Mike Phelan being replaced by Keith Gillespie—he let out a quiet sigh of relief before settling back into his seat.

O’Neill walked onto the pitch briefly and gathered his midfielders around him.

"Don’t hesitate," he said firmly. "Run at them. They won’t expect it."

The players nodded, determination gleaming in their eyes.

"And it looks like there’s a change for Manchester City as we begin the second half. Coming off is Mike Phelan, and he’s being replaced by the 17-year-old Keith Gillespie," the commentator announced.

The whistle blew, and right from the start, Swansea continued their aggressive approach—they launched a rapid attack.

"Swansea are forcing City to retreat deep into their own half. The big question now is: how long can they withstand this sustained pressure from the Swans?" the commentator said.

Campbell, Ferdinand, and Gallas held the defensive line well, repelling cross after cross.

Then, in the 59th minute, Swansea threatened again.

A winger broke free down the right flank and whipped in a dangerous cross.

Shay Given reacted instantly—diving to his right and getting a fingertip to the shot.

The ball deflected off the post and was cleared away by Ferdinand into an open patch of space on the left side of the pitch.

Right on cue, Ronaldo burst onto the scene.

He pounced on the loose ball and tore down the left wing at full speed, igniting the crowd with hope.

"Ferdinand clears it... oh no!! Ronaldo has it...!"

With Swansea playing an aggressive high line, their full-backs had pushed too far forward—leaving space behind, with only the two center-backs guarding the area.

2 vs 2!

Ronaldo & Emile Heskey vs. Michel Basham & Mark Clode.

But one thing they forgot—the alien’s specialty is dribbling.

Ronaldo collected the ball from deep, spun on a dime, and launched himself into the heart of the Swans’ defense.

Michel Basham sprang in front of him. Seeing the defender approach, Ronaldo deliberately slowed his pace, inviting Basham to close the gap.

He gave the illusion of control, allowing Basham a moment to settle—just enough to make him comfortable before taking him on.

Just as Basham relaxed for a moment, Ronaldo flicked the ball with the outside of his right foot, nudging it slightly outward—making it seem like he was about to cut inside to the right.

Basham, biting on the movement, lunged to intercept, his eyes fixed on the ball drifting away.

But before his right foot could even make contact, Ronaldo—quick as lightning—snapped the ball back in the opposite direction with a smooth blur of motion, dragging it back with the inside of his right foot.

Basham, who had already shifted his weight to the right, was completely caught off guard. He froze for a split second, stunned—but before he could recover and turn back to the left, his balance gave out, and he stumbled to the ground. By the time he realized what had happened, it was already too late.

"Bloody hell!" he punched the grass, helpless as he watched Ronaldo’s back disappearing down the pitch like the wind.

A collective gasp swept through the stadium, followed by a thunderous ROAR as Ronaldo burst forward.

Some fans jumped to their feet, shouting, "WOOO!" or "Did you see that?!"

"Oh my word! Ronaldo just sent Basham to another dimension!" the commentator screamed. "What a move—pure magic from the Brazilian!"

One down, now it’s 2 vs 1, and it’s already easy.

This time, Ronaldo didn’t need to do much. He passed to Heskey, who squeezed the ball back to him.

With a single touch, he rounded the goalkeeper and slotted the ball home, all done at high speed, as if playing on an ice rink.

Manchester City 1 - 0 Swansea City

It all started with Ronaldo—the moment that broke the dam and unleashed a flood of City goals.

62nd minute. Ronaldo received the ball at the edge of the box. In an instant, both Basham and McClode converged on him, desperate to shut him down.

But it didn’t matter.

With a body feint and a quick twist of his hips, Ronaldo twisted like a snake and slipped between the two defenders like water through cracks.

He opened up just enough space on his right foot and curled the ball with precision—bending it beyond the keeper’s reach and into the top corner.

A goal so perfect, even Richard stood up and applauded.

Manchester City 2 - 0 Swansea City

67th Minute

City wouldn’t stop.

A simple cutback from Cafu.

A simple tap-in from Ronaldo.

Manchester City 3 – 0 Swansea City.

"HAT-TRICK! HAT-TRICK again! 30 goals this season! My god—are we witnessing the birth of a new star in English football?!"

77th Minute

Ronaldo dribbled through three defenders, danced into the box, and chipped it over Emile Heskey

A goal so disrespectful that even some City fans laughed.

Manchester City 4 – 0 Swansea City.

The high morale that once radiated from the confident Swans had now shifted to City.

"You put your right foot in~"

"You drag the ball out~"

"You do the Ronaldo, and you turn them about~"

"You stick the ball past the keeper’s head~"

"The ball’s in the back of the net~"

"Oh, Ronaldo, oh, Ronaldo~"

"Oh, Ronaldo, that’s what it’s all about~"

The chants rang out across the whole of Maine Road, and City were still hungry.

A simple one-two between Ronaldo and Heskey tore apart the last bit of Swansea’s shape, and their backline barely reacted as Roberto Carlos ghosted into the box, completely unmarked.

A pass to Cafu, who had spotted him.

A soft, delicate lofted pass—a beautiful switch of play from right to left. All of Swansea’s defenders, caught in the chaos, could only watch, mouths agape, as the ball soared through the air.

Roberto Carlos lowered his body, his eyes locked on the incoming ball. He had all the time in the world.

BANG!

A thunderous volley.

Manchester City 5 – 0 Swansea City.