Substitute the center-back

After Kostić's goal, the live broadcast immediately shifted its focus. Aside from Kostić, who was buried under a pile of teammates in front of Millwall's goal, the expressions of the Millwall players were also captured by the cameras. 

Then, a group of people surged from the Aston Villa bench, with Brian Litte taking center stage. His fists were raised as he let out a triumphant roar, clearly exhilarated by the effectiveness of his tactics. 

Finally, the camera found Aldrich, whose demeanor starkly contrasted with the electric atmosphere on the field. Standing calmly on the sidelines, he exhibited a sense of tranquility; earlier he had shown signs of impatience while directing the team, but now he seemed almost detached, as if the situation did not concern him. 

The players glanced toward the sidelines, and upon seeing Aldrich's composed gestures, they naturally sprang back into action for the restart. Each player quickly regained their fighting spirit after the setback of conceding a goal, recalling the words Aldrich had spoken in the locker room before the match. 

Being behind was the worst scenario, but they were not unprepared for it. 

In reality, Aldrich was anything but calm. Not at all. As chaos roiled within him, he mentally cursed all the gods. There are always elements of chance in football—if Milošević's long shot had veered just a little off-course, they wouldn't have conceded that corner in the first place. 

Aldrich's complaints were merely the gripes of a mere mortal. After venting internally, he knew he needed to regain his composure quickly. 

He couldn't panic. If he did, not only would he be of no help to his players, but he might also spread panic among them. That last goal was preventable; it simply showed that Millwall was still too young, and certain defensive tactics had not yet been polished to perfection. 

At the right moment, a tactical foul could indeed turn the tide of a match. 

The majority of Millwall's players embodied the notion of fair play. Even Makélélé, who primarily focused on defense, looked down upon the idea of smothering an attack with unending fouls. His defensive style was a form of art, destructive yet elegantly executed.

While Millwall players are not averse to committing fouls, they prefer to engage in direct defensive play. For example, Lucas Neill, who has the highest average number of cards on the team, typically commits fouls due to his aggressive style of direct defending. Such fierceness is often an innate quality of players, not something they acquire later. 

Conversely, many "good guys" try to toughen up, but often end up looking more ridiculous than intimidating.

Tactical fouling was a key focus in defensive training at Millwall, and they emphasized this awareness among the players. Yet these instinctive decisions weren't something a coach could simply instill with a few words; it boiled down to experience. 

The Aston Villa fans in the stands raised their voices, singing louder with each verse. In contrast, Millwall's fans appeared somewhat lost, anxiety palpable in the air. 

Was a hundred and ten years of waiting still not over? 

This goal had left many fans stunned, including Brady, the head of the fan organization, who sat bewildered in the stands until his friend Ivan called out Millwall's name with a bright, ringing voice, bringing him back to reality. He subsequently joined in, clapping and shouting Millwall's name with a fierce expression, like a beast. 

Arthur and his old friends stood in the stands, having not sat down since entering the stadium. With a scarf around his neck and a Millwall jersey on, he looked almost carefree amidst the surrounding silence, mockingly saying, "Have you all lost your minds? So what if we conceded? I've watched nearly two thousand Millwall matches—being down first isn't unusual! Look at your scared faces! What a disgrace!" 

"Arthur, f—k! This is the League Cup Final!" 

A man who appeared to be at least ten years older than Arthur admonished him. 

Arthur scoffed without turning, "So what if it's a final? If Millwall loses today, are you going to take off your jersey and roll out of East London? I'm curious why you don't go lick Arsenal's a**. They've been to plenty of finals and won championships, haven't they? Isn't that what you want?" 

"Arthur! Do you want to fight?" 

"I could pound you into the ground like I did thirty years ago! Want to give it a try?" 

"Shut the hell up!" 

"Shut the fuck up!"

In this group of older men, the one with the most authority was not the wealthy Arthur but a white-haired elder who appeared to be around sixty. He wasn't particularly tall or strong, but his clearly etched wrinkles gave him an imposing presence without any need for anger. In his younger days, he was one of the street toughs and later spent three years in prison before reforming his ways; however, his tough-guy attitude was still very much alive. His scolding instantly put an end to Arthur's banter with the other man, emphasizing the old leader's enduring influence.

Clap, clap. 

"Millwall!" 

Clap, clap. 

"Millwall!" 

The white-haired elder said nothing further; raising both hands, he clapped and shouted Millwall's name. 

Soon, the quiet stands erupted in a unified chant. 

"Millwall" rang out loud once again. 

For Millwall, this situation was the worst possible outcome. 

Aston Villa had taken the lead, proving that their tactics were paying off, and the players' consistency in executing those tactics would only increase. They likely wouldn't even consider attacking again. 

Aldrich contemplated his countermeasures on the sidelines. Breaking through a packed defense boiled down to just a few strategies: penetration, long shots, and set pieces. He couldn't help but recall the team that excelled at dismantling defenses decades later: Barcelona's legendary 2009 team. 

However, he quickly shook his head, rejecting the idea of mimicking Barcelona's tactics. 

Barcelona's tactical core revolved around ball control. Guardiola was obsessed with maintaining possession, a philosophy that stemmed from the teachings of Barcelona's father figure, Cruyff. 

"On the football field, there is only one ball. When you firmly control that ball, the opponent can't score." 

This encapsulated Barcelona's football philosophy. 

Millwall would also engage in short passes and overlap runs, with midfielders exchanging positions and other cooperative details, but their fundamental football philosophy differed significantly. 

Aldrich did not prioritize possession; instead, he sought scoring opportunities. 

When players had a chance to shoot just outside the box, he encouraged them to take the shot without overthinking it—just shoot. 

It wouldn't be fair to say that a possession-based style was boring or tedious. Those playing on the field often found great satisfaction in stringing together twenty or thirty passes to toy with opponents and finally score; it was truly an art form. 

Nevertheless, to many neutral fans, paying to watch the game was all about enjoyment—seeing shots on goal, exquisite long passes, displays of individual skill, and marvelous saves—not the same back-and-forth of 5 to 10-yard passes. When a precise shot on goal required sixty or seventy passes as a foundation, Aldrich felt such football would struggle to survive in England, as it could dampen crowd enthusiasm and lead to visual fatigue. 

What he sought was efficient attacking football—score with one kick instead of three. Although this reduced possession time and offered opponents more chances to attack, that was part of football's charm, and he wasn't afraid of conceding chances; risk and opportunity always coexist. 

What he feared most was a scenario like Aston Villa's right now. 

Casting a glance at the bench, Aldrich's eyes landed on substitute striker Solskjær. The versatile player was meant to exploit the advantage through counterattacks. 

Ballack and Vieira stood one in front of the other, presenting a large space for midfield adjustments should any problems arise. 

Instead of preparing full-backs, Aldrich opted for backup goalkeeper Butt and center-back Materazzi. 

He didn't put Richards and Elguera on the bench, believing Materazzi was tougher. Whether replacing center-backs Southgate or Stam, Materazzi's physicality and aggression would provide a significant impact against Milošević. 

Aldrich checked the time; a minute had already passed in stoppage time of the first half, and the referee would soon signal the end of it. 

He walked over to the bench and told Materazzi calmly, "Marco, warm up here at halftime." 

Everyone on the bench froze, staring at Aldrich in disbelief. 

The team was trailing, and he wanted a center-back to warm up? 

Southgate and Stam weren't injured nor did they have yellow cards; why would he switch a center-back now? 

It was hard to lay the blame for the last goal on the two center-backs. 

What was he thinking? 

Without hesitation, Materazzi donned his training top and dashed out, immediately starting his warm-up. 

As the first half came to a close, Aldrich watched the players file into the tunnel one by one. He called Neil over, holding him back to walk into the locker room last. 

Neil was drenched in sweat, but Aldrich didn't mind. He put an arm around his shoulder and said earnestly, "Lucas, you played very well in the first half, but in the second half, I can only give you five minutes." 

Neil turned to Aldrich, asking, "Boss, is there something about my performance that doesn't satisfy you?" 

"No, I meant it—you played great. Substituting you was my tactical mistake before the match. If we could rewind the clock, you'd still start and play the full match. However, for the good of the team, I had to make the change. This decision was tactical, not a judgment of your performance. I hope you understand and can make this sacrifice for the team."

Neil paused for a moment, then nodded, saying, "Alright, five minutes, and I'll still give it my all." 

"Lucas, thank you." 

Aldrich would only provide a brief explanation; he had no time to comfort or counsel Neil further. He needed to speak straightforwardly, and fortunately, Neil accepted Aldrich's decision. He was a mature player, and Aldrich appreciated his professional attitude. 

He wasn't the kind of coach who would act unilaterally. If he had substituted Neil in the 50th minute without a word, it would have had a significant psychological impact on the player. In extreme cases, it could even damage the relationship between the head coach and the players. 

Feeling guilty, Aldrich explained himself so Neil could accept the decision calmly. 

Inside the locker room, Aldrich outlined the tactics for the second half. He didn't focus on boosting morale during the halftime break; instead, he needed the players to calm down. They couldn't just charge in blindly. A clear mind, a steady heart, and undying fighting spirit were essential qualities for a comeback in adverse circumstances.