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***
The Manchester City dressing room was notably quieter than usual as the players made their way in from the pitch. The tension from the pre-match press conference was still hanging in the air like a thick fog.
The media had already painted the match as a battleground for control, not just on the field, but within the dressing room. And though they were now back in their sanctuary, the weight of it all couldn't be ignored.
Pellegrini was the first to speak, his voice calm but firm. "We are in control. The first half was professional, efficient. But we need more. We need to stay focused."
His eyes briefly scanned the room. There were no words of praise, no attempts to lighten the mood. This wasn't about individual performance—it was about a collective effort to do what was necessary.
Adriano, seated in front of his locker, listened intently. He had already dissected the first half in his mind, his thoughts moving quickly. His performance had been solid, but not perfect.
There were spaces in the middle where Tottenham had started to gain a foothold as the first half wore on, and he knew they needed to press harder.
Around him, the other players remained silent. De Bruyne sat with his head lowered, a clear reflection of his usual intense focus. David Silva, as always, was calm, his eyes never leaving the floor. His understanding of the game allowed him to see the nuances others might miss. But there was no celebration in his demeanor—just a quiet expectation that they would do better.
The veterans were quiet, though it wasn't out of respect for Pellegrini. They had already processed the morning's press conference. Some were agitated by it, others resigned, but none were willing to engage with it during halftime. The removal of some key veteran players were quite dramatic after all.
"Keep it simple," Pellegrini continued. "Play our game. Play fast, keep possession, don't give them any space to counter."
His voice lowered slightly. "And I don't need to remind anyone about the importance of keeping a cool head. This is about unity. It's about focus." He then added, " Fernandinho, you will be coming on second half . Get warmed up."
Adriano nodded slightly. He could feel the eyes on him, but he wasn't looking for affirmation. His focus was solely on the match. He knew Tottenham would come at them harder in the second half, and it was up to the team to assert themselves fully.
A brief silence fell, and then, without looking at anyone directly, Company spoke. "We need to keep pushing," he said, his voice deep, almost a command. "We're up, but they'll come out stronger. If we let them in, they'll find a way to hurt us."
Adriano knew how dangerous Tottenham could be when given the opportunity. He didn't need to be reminded; his entire focus was on maintaining that high press, closing down their midfielders, and feeding the ball quickly to the forwards.
"Yes," Fernandinho agreed, his tone serious. "We don't want to give them any breathing room. We press higher up, stay compact."
There was a brief exchange of glances between the newer players, and though there wasn't a visible camaraderie, their mutual understanding was clear.
No one was questioning the tactics; everyone was just focused on executing. There was no space for personal agendas in this moment.
Pellegrini gave a curt nod, signaling the end of the discussion. "Alright, let's finish this. Everyone out."
He patted Adriano's back as he was leaving and whispered, " Just play as you always do , ignore the noise. This is another opportunity for you to grow mentally, my boy."
Adriano nodded and smiled before he walked out.
The players stood up and began to gather their things, each of them stepping into the second half with a quiet but intense focus. The atmosphere, while still muted, was far from defeated. They knew they could handle Tottenham. The question was whether they could handle the other distractions swirling around them.
(there was a sync error apparently, the last parts of last chapter should be here , rather than the 1st half repeat. This is why I hate this shitty platform, phone and pc dual sync always messes up chapters, then I have to fix it all manually.)
***
The atmosphere inside the Etihad was dense with expectation—and division. Though the stadium was sold out, it didn't hum with the usual unified energy.
Banners bearing Adriano's name hung in sections of the South Stand, some proudly, some defiantly. There were groups of loud support, but scattered through the ground were quieter, skeptical faces—fans who hadn't forgiven Pellegrini for freezing out some of the club's long-serving players.
As the players disappeared down the tunnel, the stadium settled into an uneasy quiet.But outside the stands—on phones, on tablets, and across every social media platform—the real clash was just beginning.
During halftime, while both squads regrouped behind closed doors, City's online world erupted.The arguments weren't just heated—they were personal. Lines were drawn between those clinging to the old era and those willing to embrace the new.
One thread on the official City forum had already passed two hundred comments in fifteen minutes.
"Adriano's a mercenary. He'll use us as a stepping stone like the others," one frustrated user posted, his words gathering dozens of angry likes.
Responses were immediate.
"He picked us over Real Madrid when he had the chance to leave. How short is your memory?" someone shot back, linking a headline from the summer where Adriano had turned down a massive offer from Spain.
Others weighed in."Without him, we're mid-table this season. Top scorer, top assists, and carrying half of our games by himself."
"You boo him, you lose him. Simple as that," another post read bluntly.
Tensions flared further as screenshots of Aguero's halftime shout—his public endorsement of Adriano—circulated like wildfire.
"When Kun says it, you listen. Period," wrote one supporter, gaining traction.
But amidst the noise, a quieter, more thoughtful comment rose above the vitriol:
"The future's not here yet. But Adriano is. And he's carrying this club every single week.Maybe think about what happens if we drive him away before that future even arrives."
The message resonated.By the time the players reemerged from the tunnel, the atmosphere inside the Etihad had subtly shifted.
It wasn't a dramatic transformation—no tidal wave of emotion—but it was noticeable, almost like the first break in heavy clouds after a storm.
Where there had been silence before, now there were scattered chants.Where there had been crossed arms and scowls, now there was tentative applause.The South Stand, traditionally the heart of the home support, led the way. Pockets of fans stood and clapped as the players jogged back onto the pitch.
Adriano, emerging behind Silva and De Bruyne, caught it immediately.He slowed for a half-second, scanning the faces nearest the tunnel. Some clapped out of loyalty, some from genuine belief. A few even raised scarves above their heads with his name stitched across them.
He raised an eyebrow in surprise, almost involuntarily.
From behind, a familiar voice broke the moment.
"Did you bribe 'em at halftime?" Aguero asked with a teasing grin as he pulled alongside him.
Adriano smirked faintly, shaking his head."Maybe they finally read the table," he murmured back, barely loud enough for the cameras to pick up.
Ahead of them, Pellegrini stood on the touchline, arms folded, watching it all unfold with a tight, guarded expression.
From the commentary box, Martin Tyler observed the scene thoughtfully.
"Alan, it feels... different now, doesn't it?" he said.
Alan Smith nodded slowly."Yeah, it does. That half an hour online during halftime—whether it was Kun's words or fans seeing reason—something clicked. They realize what they've got in this lad."
Tyler continued, his tone steady.
"Sometimes it takes more than goals. It takes a reminder of loyalty, commitment—and a little perspective. City fans may be divided, but they're starting to understand that they need Adriano more than they might've realized."
On the pitch, the City players gathered quickly.No grand huddles, no dramatic speeches—just a series of sharp nods, brief claps on the back. Businesslike, but more connected than they had seemed an hour earlier.
Adriano adjusted the captain's armband briefly—it was temporary, with Kompany still officially wearing it—and glanced once more toward the crowd.
This time, when the whistle blew to start the second half, he sprinted forward with purpose.And this time, the cheers followed him—not overwhelming, not yet—but louder, steadier, more sincere.
The Etihad, for the first time that day, felt like it was beginning to heal.
***
The second half kicked off under a subtly changed Etihad Stadium.The atmosphere was still cautious but undeniably warmer—an echo of the halftime shift that had rippled through the crowd and the wider City community.
Tottenham, facing a 2-0 deficit, seemed to emerge from the tunnel with their ambitions tempered.Their first-half press, so aggressive and sharp in the opening minutes, was abandoned. Instead, they dropped into a compact 4-5-1, crowding the midfield in an attempt to stem the bleeding.Soldado, their lone striker, became marooned high up the pitch, receiving nothing but long clearances and hopeless scraps to chase.
"Tottenham look resigned, Alan," Martin Tyler said as the teams settled back into shape. "It's not about chasing City anymore—it's about damage control."
Alan Smith agreed. "They're banking on keeping the score respectable, Martin. Maybe nicking something on the counter, but this is survival mode now."
Manchester City, sensing the change immediately, adapted with precision.No panic. No mad rush.They passed and probed with intent, dragging Tottenham from side to side, stretching that deep block, looking for the cracks to open.
De Bruyne became the metronome, pulling the strings from deep. Hazard and Salah stayed high and wide, forcing Spurs' fullbacks to retreat, while Silva floated into pockets between the lines.It was deliberate football—not frantic, but surgical.
In the 52nd minute, the first real chance of the half came.De Bruyne, afforded too much time and space near the center circle, spotted Salah darting into space behind Danny Rose.A beautiful floated ball arced toward the back post. Salah brought it down expertly with his first touch, cutting inside onto his stronger left foot and whipping a shot toward the near post.
Lloris, alert and athletic, threw himself down low and parried it wide with strong hands.
"City aren't forcing it," Martin Tyler observed from the booth. "They're waiting for the right moment. And Spurs... they're giving them the territory."
Alan Smith added, "When you're two down and defending like this, you need to be almost perfect. Tottenham are hanging by a thread."
The resulting corner caused panic, with Otamendi rising highest but heading over the bar.
City resumed their dominance immediately after.By the 58th minute, they were weaving intricate patterns around Tottenham's shell.Adriano, dropping deep between the lines, orchestrated another move—receiving the ball from Silva, flicking a sharp one-two with De Bruyne, and chipping a deft ball over the top into Aguero's path.
The Argentine sprinted beyond Vertonghen, reached the ball first, but his touch let him down at the last second. His scuffed shot trickled wide, drawing a collective groan—but it was followed swiftly by warm applause.
It wasn't for the miss.It was for the movement.The understanding.The patience.
By the hour mark, City were monopolizing possession at an almost ridiculous rate—71%.Kolarov and Zabaleta pushed so high that they were effectively playing as wingers, hemming Tottenham inside their own third.Hazard, increasingly influential, floated centrally to create overloads, combining sharply with De Bruyne and Silva.
Tottenham, meanwhile, had nothing to offer but occasional, hopeful lunges forward.Their sole half-chance came in the 64th minute.After Otamendi misjudged a clearance, Eriksen pounced, slipping a quick pass to Townsend on the left.Townsend sprinted forward, cut inside onto his favored left foot, and unleashed a drive from distance.Joe Hart watched it sail harmlessly over his bar, his gloves untouched.
"A rare venture forward," Alan Smith quipped. "But it's telling that it's from thirty yards out."
The match had settled into a rhythm, but Pellegrini knew better than to leave things to fate.With a critical Champions League tie against Bayern Munich only days away, fresh legs were necessary.
In the 70th minute, he made his first change.
David Silva, who had quietly run the show, jogged off to polite applause.On came Yaya Touré—his powerful frame instantly giving City a different dimension.
Moments later, another substitution.The fourth official raised the board: Adriano's number lit up.
There was a pause—brief but tangible.Then, spontaneously, almost against itself, the Etihad rose.
Not all at once, not a choreographed wave.But row after row, section after section, stood and applauded.
The chanting followed soon after, growing louder:
"Adriano! Adriano! Adriano!"
Adriano, jogging toward the touchline, slowed slightly, a bemused, half-smiling expression crossing his face.
He turned toward Pellegrini with a small shrug and asked quietly, "What changed?"
The manager smirked, clapping him lightly on the back."Maybe they came to their senses," Pellegrini replied.
Behind them, Zabaleta—grinning ear to ear—gave Adriano a heavy slap between the shoulders as he passed.
Alan Smith captured the moment perfectly from the commentary booth.
"They're not just applauding the performance, Martin. They're acknowledging the effort. They're admitting... maybe they were wrong."
Martin Tyler added, "Football crowds are proud, Alan. But they're also fair.When a player earns it, they know how to say it without words."
Adriano took a few extra seconds before sitting down on the bench, nodding subtly toward the fans who were still clapping him off.
City, now without their catalyst, shifted gears.Aguero drifted wider, Kane—fresh and eager—led the line.The tempo slowed, the moves became simpler, more methodical.The goal wasn't to chase glory. It was to see out the job professionally.
In the 76th minute, De Bruyne found a rare opening at the top of the box, rifling a shot that dipped wickedly, clipping the roof of the net to collective gasps.
Five minutes later, Hazard combined cleverly with Kolarov, threading a one-two that opened up space down the left.He cut inside, tried to beat Lloris at the near post, but pulled his shot inches wide.
The Etihad buzzed with contentment.The tension that had gripped it earlier in the day was draining away, slowly, steadily.
And then, in the 88th minute, City added the final flourish.
Yaya Touré, collecting the ball near halfway, shrugged off a challenge with that familiar effortless power.He surged into Tottenham's half, Kane's run dragging defenders out of position, clearing a lane.
Touré spotted Hazard's darting run and threaded a perfect through ball into his stride.
Hazard, entering the box at full tilt, took one touch to set himself, then calmly rolled a shot across Lloris and into the far corner.
The Etihad exploded as the stadium announcer roared:
"GOOOOOAAAAALLLL! EDEN HAZARD! 3-0 to MANCHESTER CITY!"
Martin Tyler's voice followed instantly on broadcast:
"And that seals it! Eden Hazard with the finish, but Yaya Touré—what a run, what a pass. Power, precision, and patience."
Hazard pointed skyward in his celebration before jogging over to the bench.Spotting Adriano among the substitutes, he tapped the badge on his chest, then pointed at the young forward—acknowledging his influence.
Adriano clapped back, smiling, the tension from earlier finally slipping off his shoulders.
For the first time all evening, the Etihad felt whole.
As the fourth official signaled three minutes of stoppage time, the songs grew louder.
Pellegrini stood at the edge of his technical area, arms folded, a faint but satisfied smile playing on his lips.
The final whistle came like the closing line of a well-told story—no explosion of joy, no frenzied celebrations.Just firm, sincere applause.Recognition of a job thoroughly, professionally done.
Alan Smith summed it up.
"Adriano didn't finish the match, Martin. But he defined it. He scored, he created, he led—and tonight, he changed a few minds."
Martin Tyler agreed, his tone measured but warm.
"Manchester City three, Tottenham nil.But tonight was about more than scorelines. It was about silencing doubts. And Adriano?He let his football speak for him."
As the players shook hands—Aguero handing the captain's armband to Hart, Hazard clapping the stands, De Bruyne exchanging shirts with Eriksen—the cameras lingered on Adriano.
He was the last to head down the tunnel.
This time, the applause followed him all the way.
***
Current Stats of Adriano
Matches: 8
Goals: 10
Assists: 9
Current top scorer of Premier League and top Assists list