Football Dynasty
Chapter 316 - 1-1

Chapter 316: 1-1

Taking advantage of a dead ball situation, the fourth official raised the substitution board.

Capdevila was being replaced by Materazzi.

"What are they thinking? They’re trailing, and O’Neill brings on a center-back? Capdevila’s been excellent today, offering real attacking width—yet he’s the one being taken off? This is genuinely baffling!"

The Cityzens also exchanged bewildered glances, murmuring amongst themselves in disbelief.

Three center-backs on the pitch? Were they giving up on the game?

Even Aston Villa’s head coach, Brian Little, looked puzzled on the sidelines.

He had anticipated that City would respond by reinforcing the midfield with Jackie McNamara, or perhaps bring on Henry or Shevchenko to bolster the attack. But a center-back? No one saw that coming.

Yet O’Neill had done exactly that—boldly, perhaps foolishly—sending Materazzi onto the pitch.

As the match resumed, Materazzi stormed straight into Aston Villa’s penalty area, and in the same moment, Manchester City’s entire formation shifted.

At the back, Ferdinand remained the anchor, partnering with Gallas in a traditional center-back duo. But Materazzi pushed forward into midfield, lining up beside Van Bommel in a dual pivot role. Just ahead of them, Neil Lennon advanced into a more attacking role, flanked by Ronaldo on the right and Larsson on the left—forming a line of three attacking midfielders.

Now, whenever Materazzi surged forward, City’s attacks relied on four primary threats.

By the 67th minute, everyone began to realize something strange was unfolding with City’s new setup. The most surprising element?

At the front line, Ronaldo and Larsson hugged the wings, while Materazzi—yes, the center-back—was now leading the line, with Neil Lennon supporting from just behind him!

In the commentary box, Andy Gray and Martin Tyler of Sky Sports struggled to make sense of what they were watching.

"What is this formation? What is O’Neill even trying here?"

It looked, at first glance, like a 4-2-4. But the moment possession turned, Aston Villa reverted to their trademark counter, launching a long ball toward Dwight Yorke, who had drifted to the left flank. The first to chase him down was Zanetti, who cleanly intercepted the pass and laid it off to Southgate.

On defense, Zambrotta dropped deep on the left, playing almost like a wing-back in a flexible 3-5-2. But in attack, City collapsed centrally, abandoning the width to swarm the middle third.

Van Bommel surged forward to press and connect play, relieving pressure on Pirlo, whose influence in the game was beginning to grow.

Rather than staying wide, Neil Lennon drifted toward the corner of the penalty area, looking for shooting opportunities or cutting inside to deliver 45-degree crosses—pressing the attack straight into the heart of Villa’s defense.

Aston Villa struggled to adapt, as their two full-backs found themselves lost in a system that no longer needed them wide. With no pressure along the flanks, they instinctively collapsed toward the penalty area, creating a congested mess of bodies in a tight space.

City’s attacks became more direct—driven from just outside the penalty arc. Lennon focused on threading through balls; Zanetti and Zambrotta whipped in crosses from deep, while Ronaldo and Larsson launched shots or darted forward with angled runs. The box was packed, space evaporated. Occasionally, Pirlo stepped up to fire from range, adding another layer of threat.

Immediately after the substitution, Manchester City’s attacking rhythm turned relentless.The ball came in—cleared—then came again.Aston Villa couldn’t reset. They were in disarray.

The biggest headache was still Gareth Southgate.

In the first half, he had it relatively easy. He wasn’t given a fixed man to mark—Ehiogu and Wright were tasked with keeping tabs on Larsson and Ronaldo.Despite Villa’s disadvantage in individual skill, Southgate had thrived in the shadows—timing his interventions, sweeping up loose balls, and controlling the chaos in his own box.

But with Materazzi on the pitch, that rhythm shattered.

The tall Italian stuck to Southgate like glue—obstructing his view, dragging him into duels, and disrupting his ability to calmly read the game.Southgate no longer had the clarity or time to anticipate runs.

Worse yet, he couldn’t dominate the physical contests either.When Zanetti and Zambrotta delivered high balls from 45-degree angles, Materazzi leapt for them—twice. One went just wide, the other skimmed over their heads.Southgate was sweating.

O’Neill stood on the touchline, expression tight.He wasn’t watching for possession—it no longer mattered. Correct content is on NovelFire

City had taken midfield control.

Even if Villa had more numbers there, it was meaningless. If City wanted to dominate through passing, they could do it for ninety minutes and set a record. But that would just bring extra time. And then, penalties.

What City needed was depth and force.

Crosses from the wings weren’t dangerous anymore. Villa’s backline was well-drilled, well-positioned to defend those. But with Pires and Schneider operating closer to the central corridor, their 45-degree balls into the box hit harder—faster, sharper, more surgical.

Materazzi, Ronaldo, and Larsson were all dominant in the air. This was no longer a game of strategy—it was a tactical war.

Southgate had Wright and Ehiogu shielding him. But Materazzi became the unexpected threat—drawing markers, disorganizing Villa’s structure, and freeing up Ronaldo and Larsson.

By abandoning the wings, O’Neill had taken a risk.If Villa launched a counter down the flanks, it could backfire spectacularly.But no tactical shift came with guarantees. The question now was: Would Brian Little take that risk?

On the opposite bench, Brian Little rose, walked to the edge of the technical area, brow furrowed in concern.In just fifteen minutes, City had unleashed over ten shots—four of them on target.

His three midfielders were overwhelmed.

Ronaldo, Larsson, Lennon, Materazzi—the bombardment was constant. When Materazzi dragged Southgate out of position, it created unexpected gaps.

City’s short passes began slipping through the cracks in Villa’s defense, especially when Nedvěd surged into the box from deep.

Villa’s entire defensive rhythm had fallen apart.

The real issue? Their full-backs—Nélson and Staunton—stopped overlapping. They stayed cautious, too deep.And when they tucked inside, it only worsened the confusion.

They retreated from the flanks while City’s attackers faced the goal directly—momentum vs. hesitation. Villa’s defenders couldn’t tell who to mark, or where the next pass would come from.

Then it happened.

Van Bommel received the ball in midfield and spotted Zambrotta drifting wide. He played a diagonal ball out to the right.

Draper, now tracking back, moved to close Zambrotta down.

But the Italian didn’t hesitate. He flicked the ball inside with one touch—perfectly timed.

The ball zipped into the box, low and fast.

Materazzi—absurdly sprinting from the opposite side—beat Southgate to the ball, diving in with a powerful header. The ball deflected inward.

Southgate shoved Materazzi away, but the ball was already in play.

In the penalty area, chaos erupted. A blur moved through the sea of bodies. A shadow leapt.

Ginger hair flashed under the floodlights—Neil Lennon!

He rose high through the crowd. Ehiogu tried to push him off balance, but Lennon powered through and connected with a header.

He aimed for the corner—but the pressure was too much. The ball flew straight at the goal.

Bosnich reacted immediately.He dove to his right, desperate to block the shot.

The ball bounced hard. Bosnich dropped, ready to smother it—

But a leg cut through the crowd—

A boot met the ball cleanly.

At least three players collapsed. The ball didn’t.

It sailed into the net.

The referee’s whistle pierced the chaos. He pointed to the center circle.

"GOOAAAALLLLL!!!"

O’Neill closed his eyes, clenched his right fist, and punched the air.

Behind him, the City bench exploded. Players, coaches—everyone surged forward, erupting in celebration.

From the turf, Larsson rose, ignoring the Aston Villa captain, Andy Townsend, still on his knees behind him.

Face lit with fire, Larsson sprinted toward the sideline, arms raised as he moved toward Lennon to join their celebration