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Matchday 24, Premier League
Manchester City vs Hull City
Venue: Etihad Stadium
A crisp wind swept through the Etihad, but it didn't cool the undercurrent of tension hanging in the air. After a sobering 2–0 home defeat to Juventus in midweek, Manchester City returned to Premier League duties needing both a performance and a result. The absence of Adriano—City's young phenom sidelined with an ankle knock—was a blow, but not an excuse.
"Cold day, Alan," Martin Tyler opened on the Sky Sports broadcast, "but the pressure is only heating up for City. They need to respond after that European setback."
Alan Smith nodded. "Yeah, and they've got the tools out there. Even without Adriano, this side has enough quality to trouble anyone. But Hull, well... they'll come here to frustrate."
Pellegrini's rotated XI retained its backbone. Joe Hart remained in goal, flanked by Kimmich and Kolarov at fullback. Hummels and Mangala formed the central defensive partnership. In midfield, David Silva orchestrated alongside Kevin De Bruyne and the tireless James Milner—tasked with linking the midfield and attack in Adriano's absence. Hazard and Salah operated out wide, with Harry Kane leading the line.
Hull City, under Steve Bruce, were conservative by design—a flat, narrow 4-1-4-1 meant to suffocate space. Jake Livermore sat protectively in front of the back four, while Jelavić stood alone, a distant outpost of resistance.
The match opened with City taking early control, dominating possession but struggling to find rhythm. Hull's rigid banks of four refused to be pulled apart. City's first real opening came in the 6th minute when Salah skipped past Figueroa and floated a cross in from the right.
"Kane's up for it—!" Martin Tyler's voice peaked as Kane rose between Dawson and Bruce, but his header lacked direction and drifted just wide of the far post.
Alan Smith chimed in. "Right idea, wrong execution. He's got the beating of Bruce in the air. That could be a theme."
Salah threw his hands up apologetically. "Bit more dip, next time," Kane said as they jogged back.
City tried to stretch the pitch. Kolarov bombed down the left but was flagged offside twice in the span of four minutes, the second prompting a grimace from Pellegrini on the touchline.
"Timing's a bit off today," Alan observed. "It's not clicking yet."
In the 13th minute, Hull had their first sniff of goal. A long throw from Elmohamady caused confusion, and Jelavić latched onto the second ball. He turned and hit it low from the edge of the box, but Joe Hart was alert, gathering low to his right.
"That's what Hull want," Martin Tyler said. "Any lapse, any half-chance—and they'll pounce."
14th Minute A sweeping move began on the left with Aleksandar Kolarov, who charged forward with typical aggression. Receiving a neat give-and-go from Hazard, the Serbian fullback overlapped and returned the ball with a slick first-time pass into Hazard's stride.
"Look at the burst from Kolarov!" Martin Tyler observed. "And now Hazard..."
Hazard shifted gears, nutmegged Elmohamady with a cheeky dragback, and cut inside toward the box. The angle opened up and he struck low with venom across goal—but Steve Harper reacted brilliantly, diving to his right and palming the shot wide.
Alan Smith whistled. "He's up for it today, Hazard. You can see he wants to make up for that Juventus penalty miss. That was hit with real intent."
Hazard slapped his hands together in frustration, then turned to Kolarov. "That was perfect," he said. "We keep doing that, one's going in."
Kolarov grinned and nodded. "Next one, I want the assist."
18th Minute Hull hadn't offered much, but in the 18th minute, Nikica Jelavić showed his grit. He outmuscled Mangala for a long ball, chested it down, and laid it off to Tom Huddlestone, who found himself in space 30 yards out.
"Huddlestone—ambitious from distance!" Tyler said, only for the ball to sail harmlessly over into the top tier.
The away fans let out ironic cheers, and Huddlestone jogged back sheepishly. Jelavić muttered, "Bit closer next time, Tom," with a half-smile.
25th Minute. City ramped up the intensity as Kevin De Bruyne began pulling strings in midfield. He played Salah through on the right, and as the Egyptian winger cut inside, Figueroa clipped his heels just outside the box.
Free kick. Kolarov placed the ball confidently.
"He fancies this," Alan Smith said. "Bit of swerve, and you never know."
The Serbian hit it with power and whip—aiming for the top left. Harper, under pressure from Hummels and Mangala storming in, opted to punch clear rather than catch.
"Good decision from the veteran," Tyler noted. "He's kept them alive again."
In 31st Minute , Finally, the dam broke.
De Bruyne won a 50-50 in midfield, brushing aside Huddlestone and poking the ball to Silva. With one glance, Silva sliced through the lines with a surgical pass toward Hazard, who was cutting in from the left like a dagger.
"He's in again!" shouted Tyler. "Hazard—on his right—shoots!"
Hazard took a touch and curled it past Harper with exquisite precision. The ball bent just around the keeper's reach and nestled into the far bottom corner.
GOAL ANNOUNCER: "GOOOAAAALLL! MANCHESTER CITY LEAD! EDEN HAZARD WITH A CLINICAL FINISH!"
Hazard didn't go over the top. He jogged to the corner flag and pointed skyward with both hands before clenching his fists tightly. De Bruyne caught up with him first.
"Finally!" Hazard laughed. "Now we go."
Milner gave him a firm pat on the back. "That's the Hazard we know."
On commentary, Tyler beamed, "Well, he's made up for midweek now, hasn't he?"
Smith added, "Beautifully taken. First touch, composure, finish. That's a world-class winger doing exactly what he's paid to do."
36th Minute, Barely five minutes later, Salah lit up the right flank again. With a silky first touch, he split Figueroa and Meyler, danced along the byline, and cut the ball back with venom across the face of goal.
Kane lunged at full stretch—
"Ohh—just missed it!" Tyler called as Alex Bruce slid in with a last-ditch clearance. The ball narrowly avoided Kane's boot.
"That's excellent defending from Bruce," said Smith. "If he mistimes that, it's an own goal or a penalty."
Kane clapped his hands. "Great ball, Mo! Another one, and I'm there."
Salah nodded. "Next time I'll get it to your left foot."
39th Minute James Milner had been a thorn in Hull's side all half, and in the 39th minute, he snapped into a tackle near the halfway line to win back possession. He immediately flicked it forward to De Bruyne, who drove toward the final third.
"Kane wants it—he gets it!" Tyler narrated.
Kane took a deft touch inside, shifting the ball past Dawson, then another to set up the strike. He drilled a low shot across Harper into the far corner.
GOAL ANNOUNCER: "HARRY KANE DOUBLES CITY'S LEAD! 2–0 AT THE ETIHAD!"
Kane turned and raised both arms to the crowd behind the net, who were already chanting his name. He pointed to Milner.
"That's yours," he said. "Great ball."
De Bruyne gave him a little shove. "Welcome back to the scoresheet, mate."
Tyler summed it up perfectly. "Two goals in eight minutes, and City are in control. That was a striker's finish—low, composed, and clinical."
Smith added, "All started with Milner again. He's been everywhere."
44th Minute , Just before the half, Hull won a rare corner after a speculative run from Elmohamady drew a deflection off Kolarov. Huddlestone whipped it in with his right foot. The delivery was flat and pacey.
"Dangerous one!" Tyler called.
Hummels rose to meet it but didn't get a clean header. The ball dropped to David Meyler just outside the D. He struck it first time—and it deflected off Mangala's knee, wrong-footing Hart.
GOAL ANNOUNCER: "GOAL FOR HULL CITY! IT'S 2–1 NOW!"
The away section erupted in sudden, disbelieving cheers. Hull's players regrouped near the sideline, slapping backs. Jelavić raised a fist. Meyler jogged back quickly, motioning to focus.
"Bit lucky," Alan Smith admitted, "but you make your own luck in football. City didn't deal with the corner—and now they've given Hull a lifeline."
Mangala looked frustrated. "I had it, then it just hit me."
Hummels leaned in. "We tighten up. No more slips."
Halftime Whistle – Manchester City 2–1 Hull City
As the whistle blew, Pellegrini quickly signaled his players over near the tunnel.
Martin Tyler closed the half: "Well, it's not all plain sailing. City looked dominant after Hazard and Kane's goals—but that late one from Meyler means this second half could have a bit of an edge."
Alan Smith nodded. "We've got a game again. Pellegrini won't be happy with that. He'll demand more focus now."
****
As the teams reemerged under the Etihad's flickering floodlights, the mood was tense but optimistic. Manchester City led 2–1, but Pellegrini wasn't taking any chances. The memory of the Juventus collapse still loomed over the side, and the manager had urged control and composure during the interval.
"You expect City to start fast, but with a little more maturity this half," Martin Tyler noted as the whistle blew.
City resumed their pressing, but there was a noticeable shift. Rather than overwhelming Hull with high-octane sprints, they applied a structured press. Milner barked instructions, pointing for Salah and Hazard to cut off passing lanes while De Bruyne patrolled the space behind them.
"Milner's doing a captain's job out there—even without the armband," said Alan Smith. "He's marshalling the press with real discipline."
Despite City's control, Hull looked more confident. In the 52nd minute, Jake Livermore spotted Jelavić making a curved run into the right channel and launched a long, arcing ball over the top.
"He's onside!" Tyler called as Jelavić beat the line.
Taking it on the bounce, Jelavić attempted an audacious volley from a narrow angle, aiming for Joe Hart's far post. The connection was clean, but the shot skimmed just wide, brushing the side netting.
"Goodness me," Alan said with raised eyebrows. "That's inches away. Risky defending from City—Mangala was nearly caught sleeping."
As the ball rolled out, Hart turned and shouted toward Mangala, "Tighter! Don't let him drift off you like that again!"
Mangala raised a hand. "Got it. My bad."
59th Minute, The scare seemed to jolt City into action. De Bruyne dropped deep to collect the ball and dictated the tempo with short, sharp passes. He exchanged a quick one-two with Milner in midfield and immediately spotted Hazard making a diagonal dart toward the inside-left channel.
"De Bruyne again—what a pass!" Tyler shouted.
The Belgian's through ball was inch-perfect, slipping past Figueroa. Hazard took it in stride, touched it forward, and with Harper rushing out, calmly slotted it beneath him into the bottom corner.
GOAL ANNOUNCER: "GOOOOOAL! HAZARD AGAIN! CITY LEAD 3–1!"
Hazard wheeled away, leaping into Milner's arms. He then turned to the crowd and held up three fingers—three points in the bag, that signal seemed to say.
"You see the difference when he's confident," Alan Smith said. "There's no hesitation, no overthinking. That's his second tonight, and both have been taken like a forward."
Salah jogged over, clapping Hazard on the back. "Didn't even need to look," he laughed. "De Bruyne's pass was cheating."
Hazard smirked. "That one was gift-wrapped."
On the touchline, Pellegrini nodded calmly, but his assistant Rubén Cousillas offered a quiet fist pump.
64th Minute, Just a few minutes later, City nearly had a fourth. Milner sprayed a ball out to Salah on the right. Salah accelerated past Brady and whipped in a cross. Kane met it at the near post and finished smartly—but the flag was up.
"Kane looked level there," Tyler commented. "That's tight. Very tight."
Replays confirmed it was marginal—his left foot just ahead of the last defender.
Kane looked over to the assistant and shook his head. "No way I was off," he muttered, but Milner patted him on the back. "Next time, just hang half a second."
70th Minute ,City then made their first change. David Silva, who had been instrumental in the first half, came off to a warm round of applause. Yaya Touré entered to bolster midfield control.
A few minutes later, Kolarov—visibly fatigued from his non-stop overlapping runs—was replaced by young Andrew Robertson, getting valuable minutes against his former club.
Hull, sensing they needed something different, threw on Sone Aluko and Gastón Ramírez. Their aim was to stretch City wide and inject pace, but City's defense—led by Hummels—stood firm.
76th Minute , A crunching tackle from Tom Huddlestone on Touré in midfield brought a sharp reaction from the crowd. The referee blew instantly and showed yellow.
"That's one of those where you say, 'He had to take a card,'" Smith noted. "Touré had space, and Huddlestone just stopped the counter."
Touré got up slowly, dusted himself off, and gave Huddlestone a look. "You owe me dinner for that one," he joked with a smirk.
84th Minute ,City nearly added a fourth with six minutes left. Milner, once again industrious on the left, threaded a clever pass through to Kane just inside the area.
"He's in!" Tyler called.
Kane took one touch and drilled a left-footed shot aiming low at the near post—but it struck the outside of the upright and ricocheted out.
"Agonizingly close," said Smith. "That's his weak foot, but he still hit it sweetly."
Kane turned away, hands on head. "Should've buried it."
Milner jogged over. "It'll come. You're getting the chances."
In the final few minutes, City didn't push recklessly. Touré slowed the tempo, keeping possession with De Bruyne and Milner, passing triangles that forced Hull to chase shadows.
At one point, even Joe Hart joined the short passing game, drawing ironic cheers from the crowd.
"There's maturity in this performance," Tyler said. "They've learned from their mistakes in Turin."
Full-Time Whistle: Manchester City 3 – 1 Hull City
As the final whistle rang out, a wave of relief and pride washed over the Etihad. Players embraced. Milner hugged Kane. Hazard shook hands with nearly everyone. Pellegrini clapped softly as he turned toward the tunnel.
Martin Tyler wrapped it up: "A composed second-half performance. Hazard stole the headlines with two excellent goals. And City—without Adriano tonight—showed their depth and control."
Alan Smith added, "You've got Kane stepping up, De Bruyne running the game, and Milner playing like a man possessed. It's exactly the kind of response Pellegrini wanted after that Champions League setback."
Back at home, Adriano—watching with arms folded—smiled and turned off the TV. His teammates had done their job. The momentum was alive. And soon, it would be his turn again.
****
Adriano had just turned off the television. Manchester City had beaten Hull 3–1, a solid result, but it didn't make him feel any better. Watching from the sidelines felt wrong—especially after the Juventus defeat. The rhythm of the team was still with him, pulsing in his legs, but his ankle told a different story. He leaned back into the couch, arms stretched over the cushions, trying to settle into the silence. Just as he closed his eyes, the doorbell rang.
He glanced at the time: just past 10 PM. Probably Raul, dropping off something he forgot to mention. Grabbing his crutch, Adriano stood carefully, wincing as he shifted weight onto his good foot. He moved slowly down the hallway and opened the door.
Before he could say anything, a flash of blonde hair and a gust of cold air hit him. Kate threw her arms around his neck, holding on tight.
"Whoa Babe," he said, catching himself on the frame. "Easy! Still got a sore leg here."
She pulled back slightly but didn't let go. Her face was flushed from the cold, and her eyes, wide and tired, were fixed on his.
"I was supposed to surprise you for your birthday," she said, breathless. "But after watching the match... I don't know. I just had to come. Are you okay? Your ankle—are you putting weight on it? Should you be standing right now?"
Her questions tumbled out, rapid and slightly sharp. Adriano smiled and leaned in to kiss her.
"I'm fine. Or close enough. Come in."
He reached for her suitcase, but she caught his wrist before he could grab it.
"Nope. Don't even try," she said. "You're sitting down, not playing hero."
She ducked under his arm and helped him back into the living room, steady but gentle, guiding him down to the couch. She grabbed a small ottoman and slid it over, lifting his leg with care and adjusting a cushion underneath.
"There," she said, brushing her hands off. "Now stay."
Adriano watched her for a moment. "You didn't have to rush here like this."
Kate gave him a look. "You think I could just sit around after watching you limp off the pitch? Come on."
He exhaled, resting his head back. "It's not as bad as it looked. Just a knock. Swollen, but the doc said I should be back in time for the second leg against Juventus."
Kate sat down next to him, not entirely convinced. "It's the same ankle, isn't it? From when you were sixtee ?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. But this time's different. It's nowhere near as serious. I've been through worse."
She didn't say anything for a moment. Then she leaned into him, tucking her head under his chin. "Still made my stomach drop. Watching you limp like that again."
He wrapped an arm around her, fingers tracing slow circles against her back. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"You did," she said quietly.
"I know," he replied. "I'm sorry."
They stayed like that for a minute, no need for words. Eventually, he shifted slightly, tilting her face up.
"Will you let me make it up to you?" he asked.
"That depends," she murmured, lips brushing his.
He kissed her, slow and steady. Not rushed. Just enough to let everything else fade—Juventus, the injury, the pressure. When they finally pulled apart, her hand lingered on his jaw.
"I feel better now," she said.
"Yeah?"
She nodded. "My shoot wrapped early. Got the first flight I could. I'm staying, by the way."
He raised an eyebrow. "How long?"
"As long as I need to," she said. "Long enough to keep you from sneaking off to the training ground."
Adriano grinned. "Guess I'm grounded."
"Good." She gave him a satisfied look. "Someone needs to stop you from doing anything dumb."
"You volunteering for that job?"
"Already accepted the role," she said. "Now stay where you are—I'm starving. Barely ate anything today."
He made a show of sitting upright and saluting. "What's on the menu, chef?"
Kate stood and stretched. "Whatever's in your fridge that isn't expired."
"I think there's some pasta. Maybe eggs."
"Great," she said over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. "Nothing says romantic dinner like scrambled eggs at ten o'clock."
Adriano smiled to himself, letting his head rest back against the cushion again. The pain in his ankle was still there, but it didn't feel quite as sharp anymore.
Kate returned to the front door, grabbed her suitcase, and wheeled it quietly into the hallway. Adriano watched from the couch, one arm draped along the backrest, his injured leg propped up on the ottoman.
She moved through the space like she belonged there—setting her bag aside, kicking off her boots, and making a beeline for the kitchen without a word.
The faint clatter of pans and the gentle creak of cabinet doors followed. Soon, the warm scent of something familiar—pasta, maybe—began to drift into the living room.
Adriano reached for his phone and tapped in a number from memory. His mother picked up after two rings.
"Adriano! Como você está, filho?"
"Much better now," he said, his voice easing. "Kate's here. She flew in tonight, straight from work."
Rosa's voice softened instantly. "Ah, she's got a heart, that one. Make sure you listen to her, viu? Rest, eat, no football. I mean it."
From the kitchen, Kate's voice carried down the hall. "I'm on it, mama Rosa! He's not going anywhere."
Adriano chuckled. His mother did too.
"See? You've already got a dotinf nurse with better instincts than you," Rosa said.
Julio came on the line a moment later. His tone was quieter, firmer. "Hey champ.."
"Hi, Dad."
"How's the ankle?"
" Still Sore. Swollen. But it's nothing serious. I'll be back for the second leg."
Julio paused for a second before speaking again. "Don't rush it. You've only got one career—and one ankle. Take care of both."
Adriano leaned back, letting the words settle.
"I know. I'm being careful."
Another pause. Then Julio added, "Kate's good for you. Don't forget that."
Adriano's eyes moved to the kitchen doorway, where the sound of something being stirred in a pan continued.
"I know," he said quietly. "I won't."
After he ended the call, he let the phone rest on the cushion beside him and closed his eyes for a moment. He could hear the light clink of plates and the low hum of Kate humming something tuneless under her breath.
A few minutes later, she walked in carrying two bowls. She handed him one with a satisfied grin.
"Homemade-ish," she said. "The sauce was already in the fridge. I added some grilled chicken and threw in whatever herbs I could find that weren't expired."
Adriano looked at the bowl—pasta with a creamy sauce, dotted with bits of rosemary and cracked pepper. He met her eyes.
"It smells amazing. And if you made it, it already tastes good."
She sat down next to him with her own bowl, cross-legged on the couch. "You're biased."
"I'm injured," he said with a shrug. "Let me have this."
They ate in comfortable quiet. The television was off. The city outside their window was quiet, lit by a faint orange glow from the streetlamps.
Between bites, they talked—about her upcoming promo tour for the film, about the logistics of her staying in Manchester longer than planned, about the league fixtures coming up and whether the physio would clear him in time.
At one point, Adriano asked, "You sure this doesn't mess with your schedule?"
Kate shook her head. "I've got like a couple month window till the release date and promotions. I needed the break anyway. And being here makes more sense than sitting in a hotel somewhere watching interviews of myself."
She then added, "It's gonna be released a bit late due to the whole scandal fiasco. But should be released within May. Unless you have amatch that day or next, you'll be coming with me to the Premier."
Adriano sighed, " You really want to drag me there after I'm tired from a match? I might fall asleep halfway."
Kate glared, " I'll poke with a needle if that happens. This my first movie and a big one. I want you there beside me."
Adriano raised his hand with mock surrender, " Alright, I got it. No sleeping during your movie. So what does your character do? Hopefully not have a romantic subplot with a robot or something."
Kate looked at him surprised," how do you know that? That's actually the pitch they had in the first draft for later sequels. I didn't like it much, and after some negotiations, they changed it a little."
Adriano looked interested, " What's the new plot?"
Kate smirked , " I'm not spoiling that. You have to go to the Premier with me to find out."
Adriano shook his head in mocked shock," You wouldn't even tell your dearest boyfriend? I'm devastated."
Kate smiled and reached forward, and gave him a kiss, " There's your bribe, now stop sulking and finish your food. It's to keep you awake during the Premier."
He looked over at her bowl, now nearly empty. "You know, I could've at least helped with the dishes."
She stood, collecting both bowls before he could protest. "You can help when your ankle works."
He pushed up slightly, making an attempt to stand. "Come on, I'm not made of glass—"
"Down boy," she said, turning to face him with that familiar look of mock authority. "You want to get benched for another week?"
He raised his hands in surrender. "I said you'd make a great doctor."
Kate smirked. "I missed my calling. Lucky for you, you still get the full experience."
Adriano settled back down and watched her disappear into the kitchen again. He hadn't noticed it before, but the apartment felt different now. Lighter. Quieter in a good way. Like the air had shifted, and things—just for a little while—were exactly where they were supposed to be.
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of sheets. The city outside had long settled into stillness. Adriano lay on his back, propped up slightly by a couple of pillows, one arm wrapped around Kate, who rested against his chest. Her breathing was slow and even, her fingers drawing light patterns on the side of his ribcage.
He absently ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing it back as he stared up at the ceiling.
"You know," he said after a while, his voice low, "what your visit did for me tonight… I don't think I can explain it properly."
Kate tilted her head just enough to look at him. "Try me."
Adriano hesitated, then exhaled slowly. "I was a mess after the Juventus match. We lost at home, I got hurt, fans are doubting the team… I couldn't stop thinking about what I could've done differently. What it meant to miss training. It just kinda kept looping in my head."
Kate's eyes softened. "You've always been too hard on yourself. You have just started your career, there's plenty of time to win glory."
He nodded slightly. "Maybe. But then you showed up. Out of nowhere. You didn't even hesitate." His voice dropped further, more vulnerable. "It reminded me that there's more to all of this than the pressure. Than just winning."
She reached up and gently traced her thumb along his jaw. "You don't have to carry it all alone. I'm here for you. Always."
"I want to win things, of course I do. But I also want to have something to come home to. Someone." He looked down at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. "A life that matters off the pitch, too."
Kate didn't say anything at first. She just held his gaze, steady and clear. Then she said quietly, "You're building that already. You might not see it, but I do. You're not just some star player to me. You're someone I care for deeply, someone I love.
You're the guy I'd fly across the world for without thinking twice. Because that's how much you matter to me."
His throat tightened slightly. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"Thanks for being here Kate. Let's make it work.." he said inhaling her scent. "Not just the football. Us. A relationship that lasts. Something real and true. "
Kate settled closer, her hand resting over his heart. "We already have. I won't let this slip away. "
He smiled, but then let out a quiet chuckle when her hand suddenly swatted his away from where it had started to drift lower under the blanket to touch somewhere delicate.
"Seriously babe? We were having a heartfelt moment" she said, raising an eyebrow .
He joked, " That's why I was feeling up your heart."
She laughed, "You are really shameless yet smooth. You're injured now, otherwise I wouldn't have let you sleep tonight.
Seriously babe , I let my guard down for one minute and there you go ."
Adriano grinned. "What can I say? When you've got a beautiful girlfriend taking care of you, it's hard not to show her how affectionate I can be."
She shook her head and laughed, pressing herself against him. "Always the charmer. Love you, my idiot."
He kissed the top of her head. "Love you too."
She shifted slightly, curling even tighter into him, her arm wrapped lightly around his waist.
The silence returned, but this time it was warm—shared. Comfortable. They didn't speak again. They didn't need to.
Adriano closed his eyes and, for the first time in days, his mind didn't replay the Juventus match or the pain in his ankle or the headlines. All he thought about was the quiet rhythm of her breathing and the way her hand fit perfectly against his chest.
Tomorrow would come. But tonight, this was enough.