Football Dynasty-Chapter 576: Another Win, Another Problem

Back on the pitch, Ronaldo jogged toward the center circle, expression calm now, almost cold. The celebration was done.

The message had been sent — to Tottenham, to the league, and maybe to Europe.

The Phenomenon wasn't just scoring again. He was humiliating defenders again.

Business resumed.

Seventy minutes into the match, the score was 3-0.

It all started with Zidane. Positioned just outside the box, he let the ball settle under his foot, surveying the goal and the shifting defenders in front of him. With one fluid motion, he swung his right leg back, eyes never leaving the target. The ball launched off his instep — low, hard, and curling just past the outstretched hands of the keeper.

The trajectory was precise: dipping slightly, skimming past the defender who tried to block it, and landing in the top corner of the net with a satisfying swish.

The stadium erupted again. 3-0. City's dominance was absolute.

Tottenham was facing a heavy defeat, but the only question was by how many goals. Even the prestigious Big Six teams could no longer afford to play defensively now.

Sol Campbell, frustrated and desperate, carefully elbowed Ronaldo — trying to make up for an earlier mistake. Ronaldo hit the ground but quickly got up, rubbing his face, standing still for a moment as the referee processed the challenge.

Then the red card came down.

Campbell was sent off, and the furious jeers from the Manchester City fans echoed across the stadium.

Tottenham resorted to desperate, shameless tactics. Meanwhile, Mourinho used all three of his substitutions, both to adjust and to manage time.

Eto'o replaced Henry.

Xabi Alonso replaced Pirlo.

Joe Cole replaced Stankovic

Another promotion from the academy!

Every substitution was deliberate. When the Cityzens saw another unfamiliar young face on the pitch, they recognized it as another academy graduate ready to make his mark.

Xabi Alonso, making his first appearance at deep-lying playmaker, moved with remarkable poise. In the last twenty minutes, he operated almost like an advanced playmaker, receiving the ball under no pressure and freely releasing long, piercing passes. Every touch was confident, calculated, precise.

During the chaos, he floated a high ball into the box. Eto'o leapt, meeting it with a powerful header — only to collide with Ian Walker's fists, which struck him squarely in the face.

The referee immediately awarded a penalty.

Eto'o hit the ground but took a moment to rise. Mourinho shouted furiously at the fourth official, his voice cutting through the stadium: "What is he hesitating about? That was a red-card offense! In another context, that would be murder!"

Halfway across the field, the physios ran over. Eto'o, still dazed, propped himself up, shook his head, and reassured them with a nod. They quickly checked him and confirmed there were no signs of a concussion. He was cleared to continue.

Eto'o stepped up to give the penalty to Ronaldo, gesturing toward the ball.

But Ronaldo only gave him a small smile. "You take it," he said, shaking his head firmly, a confident grin spreading across his face.

"You've earned it," he added. "Take it."

The penalty was taken with clinical precision. Eto'o placed the ball on the spot with deliberate calm. His boots dug slightly into the turf as he stepped back, taking a deep breath.

The stadium held its collective breath, the roar of the crowd fading into a tense hush. All eyes were on him.

Walker crouched, arms spread wide, trying to cover as much of the goal as possible. Eto'o gave the ball a slight roll forward, testing the keeper's timing. Walker twitched, leaning slightly, anticipating a strike to either side.

Then, with a quick, fluid motion, Eto'o drew back his right foot. The ball rocketed off his instep, low and precise. It skimmed just inside Walker's near post, grazing the turf as it sped past the keeper's outstretched fingers. Walker lunged, desperate, but he was a fraction too late.

The net bulged.

The stadium erupted for the fourth time, the roar echoing across every corner of the stands.

Finally, just as Tottenham thought the match was winding down, Mourinho waved his hand, urging his center-backs to join the offensive. Occasionally, he wanted to cultivate the ability of defenders to assist in attacks — after all, sometimes a defender storming forward could yield surprising results.

With Tottenham still sitting deep, Zidane played a measured pass to Joe Cole.

Even in the academy, Joe Cole was known for his low center of gravity, quick feet, and close control — qualities that made him thrive on solo runs. The moment he received the ball, he shifted it deftly from one foot to the other, weaving between defenders with short, sharp touches.

His acceleration was deceptive — one second he seemed stationary, the next he glided past Tim Sherwood. Approaching the edge of the box, he unleashed a series of stepovers and sudden changes of direction, wrong-footing Stephen Carr. With a final burst of pace, he opened up a shooting angle, but at just 17 years old, Cole was still learning to manage contact.

Just as Justin Edinburgh closed in, gripping his shoulder to slow him down, Cole lost his balance. Instead of panicking, he twisted gracefully, regained his footing, and poked the ball toward the center of the penalty area.

There, Xabi Alonso was waiting.

BANG!

The shot was a rocket — clean, low, and unstoppable, flying past the defenders and into the net. The stadium erupted, the roar of the Cityzens echoing across every corner of the ground for the fifth time.

"Unbelievable! Did you see that? Joe Cole's ingenuity set it up perfectly, and Xabi Alonso just rockets it into the back of the net! What a finish!"

The quiet Spanish deep-lying playmaker removed his shirt as the Manchester City fans celebrated wildly. By now, the Tottenham supporters had long since exited, while City's fans sang joyfully in unison, reveling in the triumph throughout the second half.

5-0!

Two academy players — one with the assist, one with the goal — had made a mark. In their first official match deploying academy starters in a new tactical approach, Manchester City had achieved a landmark victory… and it was in a final.

With multiple players scoring, Manchester City's offensive power was astounding. This was also thanks to Tottenham's woeful ultra-defensive performance, which felt almost surreal for those on the pitch.

Probably because Tottenham was usually biased toward attacking, and when their defense was suddenly forced to sit deep, it looked awkward and disorganized.

When the final whistle blew, Mourinho raised both fists toward the stands, and City's fans collectively bowed in homage.

"I can't believe it, I can't believe it, I can't believe it… I feel like I'm dreaming, yet everything before me is real. Manchester City has set a series of records in the FA Cup final. Scoring five goals is unprecedented — especially in a match against England's traditional powerhouse, Tottenham. It makes this victory all the more historic. Tottenham's players collapsed to the ground; they should be ashamed of themselves — unworthy of wearing the white jersey. Holy moly, what were they even thinking? They've added a humiliating chapter to their history, in a final that might well stand for a long time. Congratulations to Manchester City. This team truly deserves this victory. Their hard work throughout the season has culminated in this FA Cup trophy. They deserve our applause!"

The players sprinted around the field, celebrating together, high-fiving and raising their fists in joy.

It was Richard's first FA Cup triumph!

Compared to four years ago, when fans stormed the field in wild celebration for their first title, today they managed to control their emotions — though some still wept, and some knelt, pointing to the sky. They remained in the stands, cheering loudly for Manchester City, even as their hands grew sore from clapping.

Mourinho soon began to walk toward the field as reporters rushed to surround him, microphones pushed into his face.

"Mr. Mourinho, how do you evaluate Tottenham's performance?"

Mourinho paused for a moment, scanning the pitch as the City players celebrated around him. His expression was calm, almost reflective.

"Tottenham?" he began, voice steady but cutting through the hum of the stadium, "They are a team with history, tradition, pride. But today… today, football was about intelligence, timing, and courage."

He gestured toward the empty spaces left by Tottenham's defenders, still sprawled on the ground. "They tried to defend with a wall, defensive, rigid, predictable. When you stop moving, when you stop thinking, you allow others to create. And Manchester City… we move, we think, we exploit every inch."

"Are you disrespecting Tottenham just because Manchester City won?" a reporter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Mourinho replied calmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Tottenham are a historic club with tradition and proud supporters. What we saw today is not about disrespect. It's about preparation, execution, and seizing the moment. Every team faces challenges; every club has strengths and weaknesses. Today, Manchester City performed exceptionally — that's all. Now, I'm going to celebrate with my players. We can talk about post-match press later."

Mourinho then pushed through the crowd of reporters and staff to join the players and coaches. The entire team linked arms, moving toward each stand, bowing and waving to thank the fans who had cheered them on all match. The stadium echoed with chants, applause, and unrestrained joy.

FA officials watched the scene from the sidelines, genuinely smiling. Today's match had been nothing short of spectacular — a final that would be remembered for years to come.

Manchester City had struggled in the first half of the season, but after the turn of the year, they had transformed spectacularly.

The team had delivered a spectacle brimming with drama and excitement. And not only that — let's not forget that Manchester United were still deep into their Champions League campaign, battling on multiple fronts.

The future of English football looked brighter than ever!

In the 1998–99 season, Manchester City had claimed their first FA Cup silverware, a landmark achievement that would be remembered for years. The victory sparked celebrations across the club. The team proudly showcased the FA Cup trophy at their home ground, with fans gathering to cheer, wave scarves, and revel in the triumph.

For several days, low-key festivities continued — photographs, interviews, and small fan events kept the momentum alive.

Then, as the celebrations began to wind down, Mourinho called a meeting with the team. The staff was present in full force: José Mourinho, Baltemar Brito (assistant manager), Rui Faria (first-team coach), Antonio Pintus (fitness coach), Silvino Louro (goalkeeping coach), André Villas-Boas (tactical scout), and Ramm Mylvaganam (tactical analyst).

"This is my first trophy with Manchester City," he said, pausing to let the words settle. "But it is ours — every single one of you has earned it. Not just by your goals, your tackles, or your passes, but by your dedication, focus, and belief. Alright, I won't keep you long. The holiday begins — enjoy it! See you in two and a half months. When you come back, let's conquer Europe together!"

"Yes, boss!"

Without international duties, the players were thrilled and excited to go on holiday, while those with national team obligations still wore smiles. The achievements they had secured this season — including a Champions League qualification and the FA Cup trophy — were enough to impress their teammates in their national teams.

Some players decided to stay in England, except for Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, and Lúcio, as the Brazil national team was preparing for the Copa América, which kicked off on June 29. Mourinho planned to take a short trip to Paraguay to watch the tournament.

After greeting each player, Mourinho was the last to leave the meeting room. However, just as he was about to step out, Okocha approached him.

He explained that the Nigeria U-20 team wanted to borrow Manchester City's training facilities for a week. Okocha was familiar with the area and knew that City's facilities were among the best in the Premier League — modern, well-equipped, and meticulously maintained.

Although Maine Road Stadium itself was relatively small and simple compared to some of the newer grounds, the training complex that Richard had tirelessly developed was nothing short of exceptional. Every pitch, gym, and recovery area had been designed for efficiency and high performance. As the saying went, "It has all its vital organs," even if it wasn't the largest — everything the team needed to maintain peak match fitness was right there.

Mourinho was taken aback. "I'll need to get Richard's permission first," he said. A quick phone call would suffice. It was Miss Heysen who connected him.

When Richard heard that the Nigeria U-20 team wanted to borrow City's facilities, he was surprised.

"But the tournament will be held in your country. Are you sure you want to come to Manchester before the tournament?" he asked.

What a waste!

In the end, Richard referred the team to the City scouting facilities in Lagos, Nigeria. Even though the facilities weren't as comprehensive as City's, they covered all essential needs.

Okocha communicated this to the Nigerian national team, and they happily agreed. There was no issue as long as the facilities were properly supported.

After the match, overwhelmed by media requests, Mourinho filmed a BBC interview on the training field, cradling a trophy in each hand for the camera.

During the interview, Mourinho didn't dwell on himself. Instead, he credited the players, emphasizing that he was merely a dedicated head coach, while the players beneath him possessed exceptional professionalism and talent. Their hard work was what made the team strong, and the honors rightfully belonged to them.

Richard, though confident about the training facility, thought the matter was settled — that was until Miss Heysen suddenly asked about something that made Richard rub his temples.

She informed him that many clubs had started making private approaches regarding Manchester City's players. The most threatening interest came from Serie A.

That was the first issue.

Second, the second was the current club financial report.

"What does this mean?" Richard asked.

"First, Trezeguet is the top scorer of the Premier League, and Zidane is the top assist provider. Add the others on top of that...because of our victory, we've incurred a considerable number of bonuses, coupled with the high wage expenditures over the past year. To put it simply, even if you don't spend a penny this summer, we won't have the funds to pay the players when winter arrives."

Miss Heysen's words left Richard genuinely surprised. Manchester City's total wage expenditures, including staff, coaches, and players, were among the highest in England — but he definitely knew that the club was not that poor.

"I think we sold Buffon for 50 million. That's quite a sum, isn't it?"

"Don't you remember the first 800 acres in East Manchester where we built the stadium? The new stadium, plus the other facilities? You can project additional income, but we've already been doing that for two consecutive years. I think…"

Richard trailed off, scratching his head thoughtfully. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the weight of the numbers pressing down on him.

Stadium. Hotel. New academy. Even the road and the other general facilities.

The figures were staggering. The club was undeniably wealthy, but between wages, bonuses, and ongoing infrastructure investments, liquidity was tighter than it appeared on paper.

"You can inject money again," he continued cautiously, "but I must remind you: if there's a sudden audit, we need to be prepared. Pumping in funds three years in a row will raise eyebrows… and who knows what could happen then."

Each club was required by UK law to maintain proper financial accounts and to submit annual reports to Companies House (the government body for corporate filings). These accounts were usually audited by independent accounting firms, particularly if the club was publicly traded or had significant investors.

Richard paused, letting the thought hang in the air, as if imagining auditors poring over every balance sheet.

The reality was clear: success on the pitch came with a price off it, and even the richest clubs had to balance ambition with prudence.

"Fine then," Richard said. "Wait until I return from Spain, and we will discuss it further."