Chapter 46

Scholes compared the team's lineup and playing style from the past two seasons but couldn't identify the issue. Jin Taige gave him a knowing nod. "Paul, you're right, but you missed one key change from last season."

"Oh?" Scholes frowned, thinking hard but coming up empty. "What did I miss?"

Jin Taige pointed directly at him. "You, Paul. You were in the starting lineup last season, but you retired at the end of the season. Your absence is the biggest change and the key to our current problem."

Scholes waved dismissively. "Come on, it's just me. That can't have such a big impact."

Jin Taige's expression turned serious. "You're wrong, Paul. Your departure has had a significant impact on the team."

The three coaches moved to the bench. Jin Taige opened his notebook and began explaining his observations from the previous day. "Early in the season, the team performed well, and I overlooked this issue. But after our recent struggles, I rewatched the games and saw the problem. I've tried to fill your role by using Giggs and Carrick, but they're not you."

He glanced at Scholes. "Carrick is a brilliant deep-lying playmaker his passing and positioning are world-class. Giggs, on the other hand, excels at delivering crosses and finding runners in the box. But neither of them replicates your style. Your greatest strength was your ability to push forward at just the right moment, draw defenders, and then distribute the ball out wide or to the forwards. Plus, your powerful long-range shots forced defenders to step out, disrupting their shape. That combination made our attack unpredictable. Without it, we've become more predictable."

Scholes shrugged. "If Carrick and Giggs were a few years younger, they'd probably be better than me."

Jin Taige turned a page in his notebook. "Maybe. But here's the thing: in our last four matches three losses and a draw we faced teams we should've beaten comfortably. Even if we only played at 70%, we shouldn't have struggled like this."

He tapped the page. "All four opponents employed defensive, counter-attacking tactics parking the bus. The issue is clear: we've failed to break down deep, compact defenses."

Ferran slapped his forehead. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"

Scholes nodded. "I've noticed it too. We're ineffective when teams sit deep."

Jin Taige smiled slightly. "You're both right. Ever since Mourinho's Inter Milan won the treble using ultra-defensive tactics, parking the bus has become a go-to strategy especially for weaker teams looking to frustrate stronger opponents. And when top sides face each other, the team in the lead often adopts the same approach to protect their advantage. Breaking that setup requires three primary tools: wide crosses, long-range shots, and set pieces."

He pointed to the squad list on his notebook. "Let's go through these one by one."

"First, wide crosses. Our wingers have delivered plenty of quality crosses, but we've barely threatened from them. Why? Because we lack a proper target man. Van Persie is clinical and intelligent, but he's not dominant in the air. Rooney is aggressive and creative but isn't a natural target. If we had a strong, aerially proficient striker to occupy defenders, we'd become far more dangerous."

"Second, long-range shooting. Paul, you were our go-to long-shot specialist. Without you, that threat is gone. Van Persie and Rooney are great finishers, but most of their success comes inside the box. Outside the area, we've become toothless."

"Third, set pieces. We've had several free kicks in promising areas recently, but most were too far from goal. And again, without a physical presence in the box, our delivery hasn't yielded results."

Ferran rubbed his chin. "So how do we fix it?"

Jin Taige flipped the page again. "I've thought about that. We can't sign new players right now, so we need tactical adjustments."

"First, I'll drop Rooney into a deeper role almost as a shadow playmaker. His passing is sharp, his long shots are excellent, and he's aggressive enough to drive into the box when needed. With him occupying that central space, we regain a portion of what we lost with Paul's retirement."

"Second, I'll instruct Martial and Mahrez to cut inside more frequently instead of just hugging the touchline. If they drive toward the box, they'll either draw defenders wide, creating space for Rooney, or force fouls in dangerous positions."

"Lastly, we'll practice set-piece variations to maximize our limited aerial presence. We'll use short passes and quick combinations rather than blindly pumping balls into the box."

Ferran clapped, impressed. The players, hearing the sound, glanced curiously toward the coaches.

Scholes leaned back and crossed his arms. "Captain, you've broken this down perfectly. Adjustments like these should get us back on track."

"And keep us marching toward the Triple Crown," Ferran added with a grin.

Jin Taige smiled. "Exactly. We've hit a bump in the road, but we're far from beaten."

"Let's get to work," Scholes said.

Scholes then relayed the new tactical instructions to the players on the training ground. The changes primarily focused on the attacking players, particularly the wingers, who practiced more diagonal runs into the penalty area. The players promised to implement the new strategy precisely. As for Rooney, who was being shifted into a deeper, playmaking role, he was comfortable with the change after all, Sir Alex Ferguson had often used him in midfield.

The next few days were spent rehearsing the new tactics. However, these adjustments were specifically designed to break down defensive, "bus-parked" teams. Against stronger, more balanced sides like Arsenal, Jin Taige planned to stick with their tried-and-tested 4-4-2 formation.

The timing was favorable. After their November 5th away game against Real Sociedad in the Champions League, they had six days to rest and prepare for Arsenal's visit to Old Trafford on November 11th. It was a crucial match, with Wenger's side in excellent form.

Despite the optimism, there was a scare during training: Mahrez suffered minor muscle damage after consecutive matches. Jin Taige's heart sank when the winger went down. Fortunately, the team doctor diagnosed it as a mild strain that would heal with a week's rest. Still, Mahrez would miss the Arsenal match, forcing Jin Taige to adjust his starting lineup again.

On the morning of November 4th, Arsenal arrived in Manchester, giving themselves extra preparation time despite the relatively short trip from London.

The next day, on November 5th, Jin Taige and Arsène Wenger appeared together for a pre-match press conference.

Before entering the media room, they crossed paths in the hallway. Wenger extended his hand. "Hello, Mr. Taige. We finally meet."

Jin Taige shook his hand firmly. "Professor, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Wenger smiled and gestured toward the pitch. "No Sir Alex beside you today. That must feel a bit strange."

"Manchester United is bigger than any one person," Jin Taige replied with a confident smile. "The Red Devils' spirit doesn't change no matter who's in the dugout."

Wenger chuckled. "You remind me of a young Sir Alex Ferguson. Stubborn and determined. Good luck today."

"Good luck to you too, Professor. Let's make it a game to remember."

Jin Taige was always polite to those who treated him with respect. But anyone who tried to provoke him would face his full wrath.

The two managers walked into the press conference room together and sat at the podium. After brief opening remarks, the journalists fired their questions.

The first reporter turned to Jin Taige. "Mr. Taige, what's your goal for today's match?"

Jin Taige answered without hesitation. "The same as always three points. For Manchester United, every match is about winning. There is no second option."

Another reporter followed up. "Your team recently suffered three losses in a row. Is there a deeper issue here?"

"As I've said before, the packed schedule, the FIFA virus, and a bit of bad luck contributed to those results. Our players are in good shape and fully prepared."

When a third journalist tried to ask another question, Jin Taige raised a hand and leaned back in his chair. "Let's not forget," he said, "this press conference is about both teams, not just me."

The room went quiet for a moment, and the reporter shifted focus to Wenger.

"Mr. Wenger," one journalist asked, "will you park the bus like Chelsea did here?"

Wenger smiled gently. "That's not our style. Arsenal will always play attacking, artistic football no matter the opponent or venue."

He answered several more questions before a familiar face stood up: Wolf, the notoriously provocative reporter from *The Sun*. He directed his question to Wenger.

"Professor, do you think Olivier Giroud can truly replace Robin van Persie?"

Wenger's smile faded. "Giroud has been with Arsenal for over a year and established himself as our starting center-forward."

"But Giroud only scored 11 league goals last season," Wolf pressed. "Van Persie, after leaving Arsenal, scored 26 and won the Golden Boot. Doesn't that show a clear gap in quality?"

The room fell silent. Wenger's jaw tightened.

Van Persie's departure had been a bitter blow. He'd been Arsenal's captain and star striker someone Wenger had nurtured for eight years. Watching him leave for Manchester United had felt like losing a loved one to a lifelong rival. Even worse, Van Persie had flourished at Old Trafford, helping them win the league title.

Wolf's question hit that nerve perfectly.

Just as Wenger struggled to respond, Jin Taige leaned forward in his chair. The reporters turned toward him in surprise.

XXXX

Wolf, the reporter from The Sun, asked Wenger a question that struck a nerve: Van Persie's transfer. The departure of Arsenal's captain, after eight years at the club, remained an open wound for Wenger. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, uncertain how to respond.

Just then, Jin Taige spoke up.

"Mr. Wolf," he said with a faint smile, "you've been a reporter at *The Sun* for quite some time, haven't you? I expected a more professional question. Van Persie left Arsenal over a year ago that's old news. How about something more relevant?"

The room stirred with quiet laughter. Jin Taige had neatly deflected the question.

Wenger turned and gave Jin Taige a grateful nod. Jin Taige responded with a knowing smile.

However, Wolf wasn't finished. If anything, he was more determined to needle the Manchester United manager.

"Mr. Taige," Wolf said, leaning forward, "I've noticed an interesting pattern. In the first ten rounds of the season, Manchester United hasn't won a single game against a London team. You were held by Chelsea and lost to Fulham. Now, you're facing Arsenal. Can you break this curse?"

Jin Taige's expression turned cold. "A curse?" he repeated with a sharp laugh. "Football isn't about superstitions or patterns; it's about preparation, performance, and mentality. If every statistic were a curse, the league would be full of haunted teams."

Wolf flushed slightly at the dismissive response.

Wenger, trying to ease the tension, added, "Regardless of records or curses, I'm sure we'll give you a great match this afternoon."

The press conference ended with the atmosphere slightly tense. Jin Taige and Wenger maintained their mutual respect, but beneath the surface, both were fiercely determined to win.

That afternoon, Old Trafford buzzed with anticipation. The stands filled early, with fans eager to witness the clash against Arsenal. For many Manchester United supporters, beating the Gunners remained a special joy. Years of title races and bitter encounters had cemented the rivalry deep in their hearts.

After the warm-up, the Manchester United players returned to the home dressing room. Meanwhile, the Arsenal squad filed toward the visitors' area.

Standing by the tunnel was Robin van Persie. He greeted a few former teammates with polite nods, his eyes flickering with mixed emotions. Just as he turned toward the home locker room, a hand clapped his shoulder.

"Robin," said a familiar voice. "How does it feel seeing your old mates?"

Van Persie turned to see Jin Taige standing beside him. He hesitated. "Strange...but I'm okay."

"Good," Jin Taige said. "Let's head inside."

As they entered the dressing room together, the players turned to watch.

"Boss! Robin!" Rafael called out with a grin. "We thought you were out there scrapping with the Arsenal lads. We were about to come and back you up!" He flexed his arms dramatically, showing off his biceps.

The room burst into laughter.

Jin Taige chuckled and shook his head. "Easy, Rafael. This is Old Trafford, not a boxing ring. Besides, Robin wouldn't want to fight his former teammates." He glanced at Van Persie. "Right?"

Van Persie smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Giggs stepped forward. "Robin, don't overthink it. You're a Red Devil now. That's all that matters."

"Yeah," Carrick added. "Facing your old club can feel weird, but when the whistle blows, instincts take over."

Jin Taige met Van Persie's eyes. "We need you sharp today, Robin. You're our key man. Think you can handle it?"

Van Persie straightened his shoulders. "Absolutely. In fact, since we have time before kickoff, I can give you a few pointers about Arsenal's backline."

"Perfect!" Giggs said.

The mood lifted. The players leaned in as Van Persie shared insights about his former teammates. Jin Taige silently exhaled in relief. He needed Van Persie at his best. With Mahrez out and the team under pressure, the Dutchman's composure and killer instinct were essential.

The mood across the hall was less upbeat. Wenger had just finished outlining his tactics. The players sat in quiet anticipation except for Olivier Giroud, who stared blankly at the floor.

Normally, Giroud was the dressing room's live wire. His jokes and banter lightened the mood before big games. But today, he was subdued, haunted by the ever-present comparisons with Van Persie.

Since joining from Montpellier, Giroud had worked tirelessly to prove himself. But the media constantly reminded him that Arsenal had lost their cutting edge after Van Persie's departure. Last season, Giroud scored 11 league goals—respectable for a Premier League newcomer, but far below Van Persie's 26-goal tally.

The media had been merciless. Giroud wasn't Arsenal's next great striker, they said. He was just Van Persie's shadow.

Wenger noticed his forward's distraction and walked over. "Olivier," he said softly, sitting beside him, "you're unusually quiet today. Something on your mind?"

Giroud hesitated. "I'm thinking about how to break through United's defense."

Wenger placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're stronger than you think, Olivier. Van Persie is gone. You are here. Show everyone what you can do."

Giroud's eyes met his manager's, and he gave a slow nod.

"I will," he said.

The match was about to begin. In the tunnel, Van Persie stood at the front of the United line, face impassive. Giroud lined up for Arsenal, jaw clenched.

Both men carried ghosts from the past. Only one would leave the pitch with redemption.