Football Dynasty
Chapter 308: Their crown, Now Rusted

Chapter 308: Their crown, Now Rusted

Richard could only shrug at the cold reception.

City and Blackburn had met twice earlier in the season — both matches had ended in defeats for Blackburn.

This was the FA Cup — and this time, O’Neill sent out his second strongest squad.

With Okocha injured, the team lined up in a 4-3-3 formation. Nakata replaced Pirlo in midfield, adding much-needed grit and physicality. Blackburn, despite their position in the table, still posed a threat. Their attacking philosophy remained intact, and the legendary SAS frontline could never be underestimated.

Capdevila reclaimed his spot in the starting lineup, with Trezeguet leading the attack, supported by Henry on the left and Shevchenko on the right.

O’Neill had already spoken with Shevchenko the previous year about transitioning into a winger role — but not a traditional one. He needed a winger who could both assist and score. Shevchenko was more than willing, as his strength and technical ability allowed him to cut inside and threaten the goal effectively.

O’Neill didn’t view player repositioning as a problem. Formations, after all, were neutral — it was tactics that gave them meaning.

Asking someone like Larsson to play as a classic winger wouldn’t work, because a natural goal-scorer like Shevchenko had a striker’s instinct.

That’s why City’s current tactical emphasis shifted on this match: with only one center-forward operating inside the box instead of two, the attacking responsibilities now extended to the wingers. But that wasn’t a downgrade — it was a way to better disguise City’s attacking threats.

Before the match, O’Neill exchanged a few words with Blackburn’s caretaker manager, Tony Parkes.

Taking over after Ray Harford’s resignation had been no easy task, especially with a squad reeling from disappointing league and European performances.

Blackburn’s attendances had also dropped notably this season — unsurprising for a small town of just 100,000 people. Unlike in big cities like London, where tickets were often scarce and scalpers thrived, a poor run of form hit harder in towns like Blackburn.

Parkes tried to lighten the mood, teasing O’Neill to go for the league title. O’Neill simply smiled. Winning the league wasn’t just about trying hard — it required something more. Even Robertson admitted: in the current climate, Manchester City felt more confident chasing silverware through cup competitions. Win the game, and the trophy was one step closer.

Of course, City never took any match lightly. They fielded a young, energized lineup because every game, regardless of the outcome, was a chance to grow.

As the game kicked off, O’Neill and Robertson stood side by side on the touchline, arms crossed, studying the pitch.

In their last two encounters, Blackburn had lost both league matches against City. But today, in the FA Cup at Maine Road, the atmosphere was different. Blackburn were taking no chances.

Blackburn came out strong, pressing aggressively from the whistle. But in midfield, Jackie McNamara and Frank Lampard disrupted play with relentless pressure, forcing Blackburn to struggle for space.

Shearer managed to carve out one chance, but his shot sailed over the bar.

Both sides clashed fiercely in midfield, with intensity and competitiveness on full display. O’Neill believed in his players — not only in their technical skills but also in their ability to execute a more advanced tactical philosophy.

As Blackburn committed more men forward, their shape began to open up. That was when City struck.

Ferdinand intercepted a pass from Sutton and quickly launched a diagonal ball toward Nakata. Nakata turned and threaded a clean forward pass to the right.

Shevchenko burst down the flank. His one-two with Mcnamara beat Graeme Le Saux, and he surged forward again.

Henry made a darting run into the box.

Shevchenko slid the ball to the edge of the penalty area.

Trezeguet, who is ready then dropped back for a link-up, exchanging a second quick pass with Shevchenko that tore through Blackburn’s back line.

The ball back to Shevchenko, but instead of shooting, he calmly laid it off to Henry who had drawn defenders in and created space behind them. He shaped to shoot, forcing defenders to lunge — but instead of firing, he lofted a delicate pass wide to back to the right!

Just outside the box, 19-year-old Lampard arrived with perfect timing.

Lampard, had stayed onside. He received the pass one-on-one with Tim Flowers — and calmly slotted it home.

"What a sensational goal!" roared the commentator. "Manchester City are putting on a clinic in fluid, modern football! While people still talk about Blackburn’s firepower, they should be watching this City team. Their movement is mesmerizing, their passing crisp, and every player is in sync. Blackburn’s defense was dismantled in seconds!"

O’Neill and Robertson hugged in celebration, turning toward the crowd and urging even louder support.

The goal was not just beautiful — it shattered Blackburn’s morale.

Parkes barked instructions from the touchline, telling his players to drop deeper, compress space, and counter on the flanks where City’s full-backs had pushed high.

But it was clear Blackburn’s players weren’t listening. Championship-caliber as they were, Parkes didn’t have the authority of a manager like Dalglish. The team played without belief.

Blackburn stuck to their wide crossing strategy — but Finnan and Zambrotta, on the right and left respectively, were aggressive and composed, shutting down every attempt with authority. Manchester City’s counters, meanwhile, grew more devastating with every phase. McNamara and Zagorakis continued to push higher, supporting the attack with relentless energy and purpose.

Even for those watching at home, it felt like City had an extra man on the pitch.

They defended in organized numbers and surged forward in coordinated waves. Their superior fitness and tactical cohesion allowed them to recover quickly, then strike again with precision.

By halftime, Blackburn were in shambles. The scoreboard read 2–0, but the difference in quality felt far greater. The visitors trudged off the field in silence, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. The spirit that once carried them to a Premier League title just 18 months ago had evaporated.

And then came the breaking point.

Inside the tunnel, chaos erupted. Parkes, clearly seething, tore into his players — demanding accountability, urging them to show some pride. But defender Colin Hendry snapped. Not just verbally, but physically. He shouted back, calling out Parkes’ lack of leadership, accusing him of dragging the club into ruin. Tempers flared. Spit flew. Fists nearly followed.

Staff rushed in to separate them.

Even Richard, watching from the directors’ area above the tunnel, stood up in shock. He hadn’t expected to see his staff intervene in a full-blown locker room meltdown. But there it was — the unraveling of a club in freefall.

Blackburn were finished.

Hendry, fuming, stormed out of the stadium before the second half even began. He didn’t speak to anyone. He didn’t look back. The dressing room behind him lay in stunned silence.

The scene shocked everyone — players, coaches, even fans who caught wind of the incident. The collapse was as public as it was symbolic. This was no longer just a team losing matches — it was a team without leadership, without belief, and without a way forward.

Richard leaned back against the cold wall, watching in silence. At first, when he joined Manchester City, he had chased the chance to coach the club. Now, standing with full control over the club’s football operations, he realized how fortunate he had become.

If he had taken a job like Parkes’, working under someone else, he might have suffered the same fate — powerless, unsupported, and scapegoated.

But at City, he held the reins. He controlled contracts, lineups, transfers — the entire machine. If someone challenged his authority, it wasn’t him who would be shown the door.

And that clarity gave him peace.

It allowed him to focus entirely on football, and on building a team that wouldn’t just survive — but dominate.

As the second half approached, Richard didn’t look toward the chaos again. Instead, he turned his eyes to the pitch — where Manchester City, organized and united, were about to close the curtain on a long, bitter evening for Blackburn Rovers.

It allowed him to focus on what truly mattered — football management, unburdened by off-field drama or uncertain authority. With the power to shape the team in his vision, Richard could channel all his energy into building a side that played with discipline, intelligence, and hunger.

In the second half, O’Neill made three strategic substitutions: Henry, Ferdinand, and Shevchenko were withdrawn to preserve their fitness, while Savage, Materazzi, and Zambrotta entered the fray. The changes didn’t disrupt City’s rhythm — if anything, they elevated it. A few subtle adjustments to the formation gave them even greater fluidity in midfield and more control on both flanks.

Trezeguet, already in fine form in the reserved, struck twice more — first with a poacher’s finish, then with a clinical volley. By the time the final whistle blew, Manchester City had secured a commanding 4–0 victory.

It wasn’t just a win — it was a statement.

Manchester City advanced to the next round of the FA Cup not just with goals, but with conviction. They looked like a team ready to take on anyone.