"Do you remember that match last season?"
Mourinho's voice cut through the quiet away dressing room.
He did not need to say which match.
Every player knew.
Manchester City.
The draw that had begun the worst spell of New Manchester United's season.
The match that, in hindsight, had helped cost them the Premier League title.
The reaction around the room was immediate.
Nobody had forgotten.
"Van Gaal said he understands me very well," Mourinho continued. "For a while, I thought he was wrong."
He paused.
"After that match, I had to admit something."
"He did understand me."
"He knew what I was thinking. He anticipated what I wanted to do. And he stopped me."
Mourinho looked around the room.
"That's football."
It was never simply twenty-two men chasing a ball.
Managers prepared structures.
They adjusted during matches.
They tried to predict each other's decisions.
Sometimes the contest began days before kick-off.
Sometimes one manager won because he understood what the other was trying to do before the players themselves had fully recognised it.
That was part of what made football fascinating.
"A few days ago, Van Gaal said it again."
Mourinho smiled faintly.
"He said he understands me."
"So I started wondering what exactly he thinks he understands."
He pointed towards Curtis.
"My arrogance?"
Curtis wisely said nothing.
Mourinho turned towards Terry.
"My ego?"
Terry gave the slightest shake of his head.
"Or perhaps he thinks I cannot accept defeat."
That made Mourinho think briefly of Ethan.
Ethan had once told him that losing did not have to destroy him.
The lesson had taken time.
Mourinho still hated defeat.
He simply understood it differently now.
"If Van Gaal thinks I can't stand losing, then he's right."
His voice rose.
"I can't stand it."
"You can't stand it."
"None of us should stand here and pretend losing is acceptable."
The players' attention sharpened.
"That doesn't mean we fear defeat."
"It means we hate it enough to learn from it."
Mourinho stepped forward.
"A coward accepts failure and does nothing."
"We don't."
"We remember it."
"We study it."
"We use it."
His voice hardened.
"So today I want you to tell Manchester City something."
"I want you to tell Van Gaal, the man who says he understands me and understands this team, that he is wrong."
The room erupted.
"We will!"
Mourinho nodded once and turned towards the tactics board.
Manchester City's expected shape had been mapped across it in detail.
Arrows marked Van der Vaart's movements.
Sneijder's late runs were highlighted.
Ibrahimović's dropping positions were marked.
The midfield rotations around Vieira, Van Bommel and Yaya Touré had been broken down repeatedly during the week.
"For the first half, we stay disciplined."
Mourinho pointed to the flanks.
"Do not let them drag us out of shape."
"Do not allow them to dictate where we defend."
"And protect these areas."
Van der Vaart presented one problem.
Sneijder presented another.
Van der Vaart tended to drift left, receive between the lines and attack the channel between full-back and centre-back.
He was technically gifted, clever in tight spaces and dangerous if allowed to turn.
Sneijder often began slightly deeper.
His threat came from timing.
He could play the final pass.
He could shoot from distance.
And if the defence focused too heavily on Ibrahimović or Van der Vaart, Sneijder was capable of arriving late around the edge of the area unnoticed.
Mourinho had studied City's pre-season matches carefully.
He understood the outline of Van Gaal's structure.
He still needed competitive football to reveal the finer details.
That was why he had chosen caution.
Robben had only recently returned from serious injury.
Messi had come back tired from the World Youth Championship.
Beckham was unavailable.
Rather than force an attacking shape with half-fit players, Mourinho had chosen a compact 4-3-3.
The objective was simple.
Stay secure.
Read Manchester City.
Then strike.
From the opening whistle, City attempted to impose themselves.
Their midfield moved aggressively onto New Manchester United's three central players, while Van der Vaart and Sneijder continually searched for spaces around the outside of the block.
New Manchester United refused to be intimidated.
De Rossi and Essien protected the defence aggressively and made it clear immediately that City would not be allowed to pass through the centre without resistance.
In the second minute, Sneijder received possession near the left channel and tried to move past De Rossi.
The Italian stepped across him firmly.
Sneijder hit the ground.
Free kick.
The Dutchman took it himself.
The strike cleared the wall but lacked placement.
Čech gathered comfortably.
Manchester City continued pressing forward.
From the touchline, Mourinho watched every movement.
He adjusted De Rossi's positioning.
Then Essien's.
He told Maicon to hold slightly narrower when Van der Vaart drifted centrally.
He instructed Evra not to follow Sneijder too far inside.
Gradually, the early pressure lost some of its force.
City still had possession.
They were no longer creating much with it.
New Manchester United's greater familiarity began to show.
These players had worked together for years.
They understood how teammates moved almost instinctively.
Manchester City, for all their quality, were still assembling relationships.
Once Mourinho's side settled, their counter-attacks became more deliberate.
In the twenty-third minute, Kaká received centrally and released Ronaldo on the left.
The Portuguese winger controlled, accelerated at Danny Mills and then cut sharply inside towards the area.
Kolo Touré read the danger and stepped across.
Ronaldo went down under the challenge.
The referee awarded a free kick just outside the box.
The away section exploded with boos.
Kolo had spent years with New Manchester United.
Now he was wearing Manchester City's shirt.
Every touch from him had already been greeted with hostility.
Yaya Touré received much the same treatment.
Kolo ignored the noise.
He offered Ronaldo a hand and pulled him back to his feet.
Ronaldo complained briefly about the challenge.
Kolo merely shrugged and returned to the defensive wall.
Ronaldo took the free kick himself.
It sailed over the bar.
The chance disappeared.
The pattern of the match settled.
Manchester City had more of the ball and tried to force the pace.
New Manchester United remained compact and countered whenever possible.
After twenty-five minutes, neither team had created a truly clear chance.
Martin Tyler summed it up from the commentary position.
"Manchester City have started positively, but there's a difference between having the initiative and actually hurting the opposition."
Andy Gray agreed.
"They've had plenty of the ball, but the combinations still aren't quite there."
"You can see flashes of it with Van der Vaart and Sneijder."
"But the rest of the side are still learning each other's timing."
"New Manchester United look much more settled defensively."
"They're happy to absorb pressure and then release Kaká and Ronaldo into space."
That was precisely the balance Van Gaal needed to solve.
Push too many players forward and City risked leaving Distin and Kolo isolated against Drogba, Kaká and Ronaldo.
Stay too cautious and their expensive attacking midfield would never gain enough freedom to matter.
Then Vieira intercepted a Fàbregas pass intended for Drogba.
He moved the ball quickly to Sneijder.
The Dutchman took a touch, advanced several metres and shaped a diagonal delivery towards the far side of the penalty area.
Van der Vaart had already started his run.
He met the ball with his head and directed it towards the far corner.
Čech reacted instantly.
He launched himself across goal and pushed the header wide.
Tyler raised his voice.
"Outstanding save from Čech!"
Gray was equally impressed.
"That was heading in."
"Van der Vaart did almost everything right."
"Čech has just kept New Manchester United level."
Sneijder took the resulting corner.
Terry rose highest and headed clear.
Mourinho's expression did not change.
"It's the wide channels again," he murmured.
He had been watching City's attacking routes from the opening minute.
Each attack added another piece.
Van der Vaart drifting left.
Sneijder moving into crossing positions.
Ibrahimović drawing centre-backs centrally.
The full-backs providing width selectively.
Mourinho was assembling the picture in his head.
Cassell stood beside him.
"Do we pull De Rossi and Essien deeper?"
The concern was understandable.
Fàbregas was struggling.
Van der Vaart and Sneijder were pressing him aggressively, while Vieira and Van Bommel closed the central passing lanes.
The Spaniard had already misplaced several passes.
Drogba was having similar problems.
Kolo Touré and Distin were staying tight to him and preventing him from turning.
Ronaldo had found very little space.
The only attacker consistently influencing the match was Kaká.
The Brazilian had produced several excellent passes and was finding pockets between City's midfield and defence.
His teammates simply had not converted them.
In the thirty-ninth minute, Kaká created New Manchester United's best move of the half.
He received on the right, accelerated past Bridge and crossed towards the centre.
Essien had made a delayed run from midfield.
He beat Van Bommel to the ball and headed towards goal.
The effort skimmed the crossbar.
Goal kick.
It was the closest either side came before half-time.
The whistle arrived with the score still 0-0.
Gray was not surprised.
"Both managers talked aggressively before the match, but neither wants to give anything away."
"Van Gaal has three powerful midfielders in front of his defence."
"Mourinho has done almost the same."
"There's a lot of talent on the pitch, but there's also a lot of caution."
Tyler focused on Beckham's absence.
"That's the biggest difference for New Manchester United."
"Fàbregas is immensely talented, but he isn't Beckham yet."
"Beckham gives them long passing, positional control and experience under pressure."
"Fàbregas has struggled to reproduce that today."
Gray nodded.
"And City know it."
"I wouldn't be surprised if Van Gaal targets him even harder in the second half."
Tyler smiled.
"I suspect Mourinho may not give him the opportunity."
Fifteen minutes later, the teams emerged again.
Manchester City were unchanged.
New Manchester United were not.
The fourth official raised the board.
Messi was coming on.
Fàbregas was coming off.
The shape was changing.
Gray immediately reacted.
"That's a major switch."
"Mourinho has taken off Fàbregas and introduced Messi."
"That certainly looks like a move towards a more attacking structure."
Fàbregas met Messi near the touchline.
The two were the same age and close friends.
They embraced briefly before Messi ran onto the pitch.
Fàbregas continued towards the bench with his head lowered.
He looked miserable.
Mourinho saw it.
"Cesc!"
Fàbregas stopped.
"Come here."
The young Spaniard hesitated.
He was expecting criticism.
Mourinho had spent the entire half-time interval discussing tactical changes and had barely addressed him personally.
Now there would be no escape.
Fàbregas walked over.
Mourinho studied him.
"Why are you looking at the floor?"
Fàbregas swallowed.
"I played badly, boss."
Mourinho stared at him for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"No."
Fàbregas looked up in surprise.
"I don't think you did."
The midfielder clearly did not know what to say.
Mourinho raised an eyebrow.
"You think I'm saying that to make you feel better?"
Fàbregas froze.
He gave the smallest involuntary nod before immediately correcting himself.
"No, boss."
Mourinho almost laughed.
"Good."
"Because I don't comfort players."
"If you play badly, I'll tell you."
"If you think looking miserable earns sympathy from me, you'll discover a very uncomfortable seat on the bench and a great deal of extra training."
Fàbregas listened carefully.
"So when I tell you that you weren't bad, believe me."
"But..."
Mourinho finished the thought for him.
"But we didn't score."
"And City had more control."
Fàbregas nodded.
He had spent the entire first half believing he was the reason.
Mourinho pointed towards the pitch.
"Look at them."
Vieira.
Van Bommel.
Yaya Touré.
Sneijder.
Van der Vaart.
"Those are experienced international players."
"Vieira has dominated Premier League midfields for years."
"Van Bommel has played at the highest level in Europe."
"Yaya knows our football."
"You stood in the middle of that for forty-five minutes at eighteen years old."
Mourinho shrugged.
"Was it your best performance?"
"No."
"Was it terrible?"
"No."
"The team's first-half performance was partly tactical."
"You were average."
For once, the word sounded reassuring.
Fàbregas visibly relaxed.
Mourinho continued.
"Do you know why I took you off?"
Fàbregas thought for a moment.
"To watch?"
Mourinho nodded approvingly.
"Exactly."
"Sit down and study."
"Watch Vieira."
"Watch Van Bommel."
"Watch where they stand before they receive the ball."
"Watch when they play forward and when they play sideways."
"Watch what they do when they lose possession."
He pointed towards the bench.
"One day, you have to do all of those things better than they do."
"Because that's the standard here."
Fàbregas's disappointment disappeared.
"Understood, boss."
"Good."
He returned to the bench and immediately focused on the match.
Cassell had been listening from nearby.
He smiled.
"Young players need patience."
"They need to be allowed to make mistakes."
"And they need to know there's a path forward."
Mourinho glanced at him.
Cassell laughed.
"You're starting to sound more like Ethan."
Mourinho looked offended for half a second.
Then he laughed too.
"Don't worry."
He turned back towards the pitch.
"Cesc didn't cost us anything."
His expression hardened again.
"And we're going to win this match."
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)