Chapter 113
Chapter 113
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: FA Cup Quarterfinals (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Black-Haired Tactical Genius
Chapter 113: FA Cup Quarterfinals (3)
Park Hee-won blinked twice before turning to Ma Jeong-woo.
"Aren't we making it more dangerous by bringing on Ronaldo?"
"Why?"
Instead of answering directly, Jeong-woo shot the question back, prompting Hee-won to roll his eyes to the left before furrowing his brow sharply.
"Because... he's world-class."
It was something no one could deny.
Even with his age, Ronaldo was still showing off his incredible skill.
His work rate might not be what it used to be, but his finishing inside and around the box, along with his positioning, were on another level.
However, Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes in thought.
'That bastard Solskjær definitely won't roll out the same squad he used in the friendly.'
Even if it was just a friendly, it had shattered their mentality.
Solskjær had even gotten sent off.
The team lost 2-0, and afterward, Solskjær had to endure a torrent of harsh abuse and criticism from the Red Devils for a while.
'And I ran my mouth pretty badly too.'
Manchester United, starting with Purda, had provoked them, and in the post-match interview, he'd twisted the knife even deeper.
[If Manchester United had been up by one goal, I wouldn't have had to play that dirty, would I?]
It was a classic salt-in-the-wound move.
In fact, the Red Devils, beaten by such dirty tactics, had exploded in rage.
So now, the Red Devils were screaming to wipe Bolton off the face of the earth.
Solskjær had to be thrilled about that.
'He's got the perfect excuse to play his starters.'
In the end, whether Ronaldo came on or not, the chances were high they'd face a Manchester United very different from before.
"No, it's 100%."
Jeong-woo's eyes sharpened in the meantime.
"If that happens, our chances of winning drop drastically. So... we need to drag their lineup as close as possible to what we want."
"Drag it?"
Hee-won echoed the word again.
Jeong-woo nodded and added,
"If Ronaldo comes on... we can assume it'll be a one-man show about 90% of the time."
"You don't mean... that bastard!"
Only then did Hee-won start to grasp Jeong-woo's intent.
But he voiced his concern right away.
"What if it doesn't go as planned? What if they leave out just Ronaldo and go with speedy guys like Rashford, Sancho, or Greenwood?"
It was a nightmare combo just to imagine.
Their defense wouldn't just get pierced—it could end up in Andromeda.
But at Hee-won's question, Jeong-woo just flashed a sly grin.
"Then we bait them into doing it."
"With what?"
"With my mouth."
* * *
Advancing to the FA Cup quarterfinals was nothing short of a miracle for the Wanderers.
- : It's been 10 years. Bolton's made it to the FA Cup quarterfinals for the first time in a whopping 10 years.
- : Honestly, even if we lose here, no one's gonna say shit?
: Fair. We've gained so much against big teams already! But since we're here, I'd love to see us push to the semis...!
Of course, there were already skeptics chiming in.
- : We beat United in that friendly, but... it was a real friendly. United basically threw out their B-team scrubs against Bolton and still lost.
- : Heard Ronaldo's playing? For real...?
- : I doubt it's Ronaldo, but Cavani might start. Then our defense turns into the Red Sea and makes Moses out of Cavani.
Just like the skeptical fans, most media outlets were predicting a Manchester United rout.
Sure, Bolton had pulled off some upsets against strong teams, but the current United squad was the toughest they'd faced yet.
Plus, this season, with their double squad setup, United was right there in the title race with City and Chelsea.
Even Rio Ferdinand, a Manchester United legend, had said in an interview with one outlet:
[Rio Ferdinand: 'After the game's over, there'll be a tombstone erected in front of Bolton's University Stadium.']
Ferguson had once said that SNS was a waste of life.
But Jeong-woo never let provocations like that slide.
He possessed the soul of a keyboard warrior and left a reply on the mention.
[That monument will read: Manchester United, eternally laid to rest here. Goodnight! 1878. 4. 26. ~ 2022. 3. 17.]
* * *
Cristiano Ronaldo was still one of the world's top players.
This season, he was proving it yet again.
"20 goals. 20 goals in league play already, in just 27 matches."
Sitting on the massive sofa in his mansion, Ronaldo wrinkled his nose smugly.
"Roma Lukaku, Harry Kane, Mo Salah—they're all beneath me."
In the 2021-2022 season, Ronaldo had left Juventus and returned to Manchester United.
A few fans had their doubts.
Could he really still dominate the Premier League like before?
But those worries didn't last.
With one arm slung over the sofa backrest, Ronaldo puffed out his chest.
"I was top scorer in La Liga, in Serie A—no exceptions. And it'll be the same in the Premier League."
The current second-place scorer was Romelu Lukaku with 18 goals.
"Lukaku won't snag top scorer this season either—not with me around."
Even back in Serie A, he'd battled Lukaku for the golden boot.
"And in the end, the winner was obviously me!"
Pointing at himself with his index finger, Ronaldo grinned at the man across from him on the sofa.
"I'm turning 38 this year. And look—I hold my own against these kids. Hell, I dominate them. Even my latest body age test came back in the twenties. Super healthy too!"
The man opposite him—a head of gray-streaked hair slicked back—cracked a small smile.
He was none other than Cristiano Ronaldo's agent.
Jorge Mendes, one of the two giants of agent world alongside Mino Raiola.
Ronaldo and Mendes went way back, their bond now transcending mere business.
"I agree. Among my clients... hell, among all soccer players worldwide, only Lionel Messi matches you."
Then Mendes flashed a sly smile and asked,
"But why the sour face?"
As Mendes pointed out, Ronaldo had just bragged endlessly, yet now wore a displeased expression.
Soon, his lips drooped.
"You know what the FA Cup quarterfinals mean. Yeah, the oldest, most prestigious tournament in the world, outside the Premier League. But... the opponent? Come on."
The moment Mendes heard FA Cup, he got why Ronaldo looked so pissed.
"Solskjær asked you to start, huh."
Solskjær and Ronaldo had once shared the pitch as teammates.
Now it was manager and player, but off the field, they were still like friends.
"Yeah, he did."
"And what'd you say?"
Mendes asked pointedly.
Ronaldo grimaced on one side of his face.
"I turned him down."
"That must've hurt Solskjær's feelings."
"What about mine? Telling me to start against a League One team? That's backwards. I think they should save me for full 90s in the league or Champions League."
Ronaldo was a man with burning passion for soccer and sky-high pride.
But even he didn't play every game.
He preferred rest for low-stakes matches or against weaker sides.
He'd skipped the previous FA Cup rounds entirely.
Instead, he'd taken vacation time with his family.
This habit had only grown with age.
The Bolton FA Cup quarterfinal was no different.
"I know Bolton beat United in that friendly, so Solskjær's plotting revenge. But do they really need me? They basically used the second string there."
"Still, it's the quarterfinals. A draw means extra time... so he's probably looking to clinch it early with a sure thing."
"We've got Elanga, Marcus, even Jesse Lingard. Giving minutes to the youngsters isn't a bad idea either."
On the surface, it sounded like a senior caring for his juniors.
But Mendes, who'd stuck by Ronaldo for years, knew he just didn't want to play.
It was an evasion tactic.
Ronaldo kept venting his grievances for a while after.
"Five days after the quarterfinal, we've got league against Liverpool. I told him to save me for that—give it my all for 90 there."
"But Solskjær didn't buy it."
"Anyway, playing a League One team just doesn't motivate me. United should beat Bolton with the second string even without me, right? Fergie would've agreed."
Mendes just listened quietly.
Inside, though, he was mulling how to convince him.
World-class star or not, he was 38 now.
Most players would've retired by then.
Friendly with Solskjær or no, keep defying the manager and things could sour.
'I should talk to Solskjær myself.'
That's when it happened.
[Director Ma of Bolton... between Ronaldo and Messi, who do you think is the GOAT?]
Ronaldo had United-related TV on in the background.
Now, mid-grumble, he clamped his mouth shut and perked up his ears.
On screen, the black-haired man gave an enigmatic smile, then chuckled softly.
[Hold on. Let me ask you something instead.]
[Uh?]
[Why compare Messi to Ronaldo? Shouldn't the world's greatest—Messi—be up against Pelé or Maradona? Ronaldo's just... world-class, sure. But isn't his value more about marketability? Pure skill-wise... he's not even in Messi's league.]
Swoosh.
Mendes, who'd turned to the TV, slowly looked back at Ronaldo.
Ronaldo's face was flushing red with anger.
His fist gripped the sofa backrest white-knuckled.
Mendes chuckled inwardly.
'No need to convince him after all.'
* * *
March 17th. FA Cup quarterfinal match day.
Manchester United's lineup was announced.
[ST]: Cristiano Ronaldo
[LW]: Marcus Rashford
[RW]: Jesse Lingard
[CM]: Donny van de Beek
[LDM]: Fred
[RDM]: Nemanja Matić
[LB]: Alex Telles
[CB]: Harry Maguire
[CB]: Victor Lindelöf
[RB]: Diogo Dalot
[GK]: Dean Henderson
[SUB]: Jadon Sancho
[SUB]: Edinson Cavani
[SUB]: Bruno Fernandes
[SUB]: Raphaël Varane
[SUB]: Luke Shaw
[SUB]: Amad Diallo
[SUB]: Aaron Wan-Bissaka
[SUB]: Paul Pogba
[SUB]: David de Gea
In the locker room, confirming it, Jeong-woo grinned and said,
"Fuck."
He'd known it'd be like this, but seeing it still made the curse slip out.