Chapter 28: Attack of Burnley (3)
**17th minute of the first half against Southampton.**
Just as the Burnley players were calming down from the excitement of their recent goal, Southampton struck back with a swift counterattack to equalize.
It was likely a move ordered by manager Ralph Hasenhüttl. Southampton's central defender Mohammed Salisu, positioned at the back, sent a long pass to right midfielder Stuart Armstrong, who had drifted centrally.
Armstrong then connected with a long ball to Nathan Tella, who outpaced Burnley's captain Ben Mee and charged toward goal at breakneck speed.
"Ah…!"
Hyeong-min let out an exclamation of admiration at the cleanly executed counterattack.
Southampton's academy graduate and promising talent, now facing Burnley goalkeeper Nick Pope in a one-on-one, didn't miss his chance. He curled a shot past Pope's right side as the keeper rushed out.
Shots: 13 to 2. Shots on target: 6 to 1.
Despite being overwhelmingly dominated in an away match, Southampton were playing with ruthless efficiency.
["Chris Wood with a shot!"] ["Oh, so close! Southampton's goalkeeper Fraser Forster makes a great save!"]
The caster's shout was followed by the commentator.
["Chris Wood raises a hand to apologize to his teammates, but instead of retreating outside the penalty box, he's positioning himself to disrupt the goalkeeper's buildup."]
["The rest of the Burnley players are pressing the Southampton players too. Even after conceding an equalizer, they're not just looking to protect a one-goal lead—they're showing clear intent to widen the gap!"]
Hyeong-min frowned in frustration as Burnley's players began to waver.
And then, halftime arrived.
Despite their relentless attack, Burnley couldn't break through Southampton's defense even as the two minutes of added time, signaled by the fourth official, ticked away. Frustrated, the Burnley players trudged toward the home team's locker room.
Hyeong-min felt the same frustration, but Burnley's young manager decided to express his own discontent from a different perspective.
"There's no need to rush! Why are you hurrying?! We're already winning!"
Hyeong-min gathered the squad in the locker room, encouraging the players as they looked to him.
"Right now, Southampton aren't in a position to come to an away game and settle for one point. If the second half ends like this, they get zero points, and we take three. I'll say it again—don't rush."
The players nodded, though Ben Mee, who had contributed to the conceded goal in the first half, raised his hand with a dissatisfied expression.
"But it's only a one-goal lead. I don't want to let them equalize."
"Believe in yourselves. We conceded one goal? Then go out there and score three more! Southampton only managed two shots all half, with one on target. Yes, it was a clean counterattack, but there's no reason to doubt our play."
The squad nodded again at their manager's calm yet confident words.
Watching the tension ease from the players' faces, Hyeong-min felt cold sweat trickle down his back but sighed in relief inwardly.
---
**The second half kicked off with Burnley's possession.**
As he watched the game unfold before him, Burnley captain Ben Mee kept a thought lingering in the back of his mind.
When had it started?
Desperate defending, defending, and more defending.
Long balls forward from the back and goals scored on the counter.
A draw was a great result, and a win was a rare treat—that had been their life for the past six seasons.
But over the last three months, he'd grown accustomed to a different reality: aiming for victory in every game, where even a draw against the league leaders prompted an apology from the manager.
Maybe he'd gotten too comfortable with that lifestyle and become complacent.
Had he foolishly assumed that overtaking top clubs like Manchester City, Manchester United, Arsenal, Chelsea, and Tottenham to claim second place in the league was solely due to his own ability?
Perhaps he'd started to think he no longer needed to pour desperate effort into every single match.
He didn't have the natural talent of Hannibal Mejbri, Karim Adeyemi, or even Burnley's homegrown ace Dwight McNeil.
But right now, at Burnley, there was something only he could do—and it was time to do it.
"Focus!"
Encouraging his teammates and rallying the ones who were faltering—that was the role of the armband on his sleeve.
"Push forward!"
His job was to anchor the defense and create opportunities for attack.
Ben Mee threw himself into action, intercepting a long pass from Southampton aimed at exploiting the space behind. At the last second, he twisted his head slightly to send a header to his long-time center-back partner, James Tarkowski.
Tarkowski, a key figure in building Burnley's ironclad defense this season, didn't disappoint. He evaded Southampton striker Che Adams, who was pressing forward, and played a short pass to defensive midfielder Nicholas Seiwald.
The young Austrian midfielder, exceptional at winning, retaining, and distributing the ball, shrugged off Southampton's Nathan Tella with a physical challenge, arms outstretched.
"Nicky!"
Karim Adeyemi, his teammate and friend from their RB Salzburg days, shouted as he crossed the halfway line to support him.
Still fending off Tella with his broad back and strong arms, Nicholas Seiwald turned slightly to his left and delivered a short pass to Adeyemi.
Just before receiving the ball, Adeyemi glanced up to survey his surroundings and locked eyes with Burnley midfielder Hannibal Mejbri, positioned nearby.
With a barely perceptible nod, Mejbri turned and sprinted full speed toward Southampton's goal before Adeyemi even touched the ball.
In front of him were Southampton's defenders—Mohammed Salisu, Jan Bednarek, and Kyle Walker-Peters—forming a flat line to catch him offside.
With every step, the line drew closer. One more stride, and even if he received the ball now, the assistant referee's flag would go up for offside.
But at that precise moment—when he'd once trembled in Burnley's town square facing a rival he couldn't stand, now a teammate he grudgingly accepted but wouldn't call a friend—Karim Adeyemi didn't betray his expectations. With a powerful kick and a shout, the ball rocketed forward.
"Hannibal!"
The ball zipped past his left shoulder toward the opposition's goal.
Vowing to teach Adeyemi how to properly deliver a long pass next time, Hannibal chased after it at full speed.
Southampton goalkeeper Fraser Forster was already rushing out to block him.
He could hear the ragged breathing of Mohammed Salisu charging at him from behind.
Instinctively, he knew Jan Bednarek and Kyle Walker-Peters, their offside trap shattered, were racing back to cover the open goal.
The ball's speed, his own pace, and the movements of the opposing players mapped out in his mind like a blueprint.
Accounting for everything, he'd be intercepted if he touched the ball more than three times.
Hannibal slightly increased his speed beyond the ball's, closing in until he could see the color of Fraser Forster's eyes as the goalkeeper lunged toward him. Only then did he nudge the ball lightly to the right.
The ball and the sprawling goalkeeper slid in opposite directions on the slick turf, and Hannibal leaped over the giant frame of the keeper with the same momentum he'd built running.
The ball rolled toward the goal but veered off, threatening to drift wide. Forster scrambled desperately across the grass to block its path.
All that remained was half a breath of time and one final touch.
The goal was barely visible, but Hannibal trusted his instincts and threw himself forward.
As he fell sideways, he wrapped his right foot around the ball and unleashed a powerful shot.
Sliding across the turf, Hannibal saw the side netting ripple as a deafening roar erupted around him.
It was the moment Burnley reasserted their dominance at home.
"Goal! Burnley's third goal! 50th minute of the second half! Number 26, lighting up the Clarets, and his name is—!"
"Hannibal Mejbri!!!"
Rising to the sound of the announcer's cry and the crowd chanting his name, Hannibal spread his arms wide, soaking in the moment.
He nearly stumbled forward as a teammate jumped onto his back, but realizing who the cheers were for, he lowered his arms and let them ride.
*Sure, you'd want to bask in this kind of fan adoration at least once…*
"Woooahhh! My assist was the best!"
"No, it wasn't!"
*Maybe I should just dump you on the ground.*
*It was my greatness that salvaged your awful long pass!*
Far off, amid the celebrating Burnley players, Karim Adeyemi and Hannibal Mejbri bickered once more. Meanwhile, in the technical area, Hyeong-min and Arthur embraced in celebration.
"We did it! We pulled it off!"
Over Arthur's shoulder, as he rejoiced like a child, Hyeong-min caught sight of the grim faces of the Southampton players and Ralph Hasenhüttl's stern expression as he tried to rally them.
Forty minutes remained.
The score was 3-1.
But the momentum had fully shifted to Burnley.
At the back, Ben Mee and James Tarkowski ruthlessly snuffed out every Southampton attack, while Burnley's players, sensing victory, bombarded Southampton's goal.
---
**54th minute of the second half.**
From a corner kick, Chris Wood's header was brilliantly saved by Fraser Forster, but Dwight McNeil pounced on the rebound to slot it home for another goal.
---
**61st minute of the second half.**
This time, Karim Adeyemi broke down the right and delivered a cross. Chris Wood powered through Fraser Forster's valiant defending to finally score.
In just 16 minutes of the second half, Burnley had scored three goals, completely dismantling Southampton.
Never since the Premier League's inception had Burnley scored five goals at their home ground, Turf Moor.
Overwhelmed with emotion at their team's devastating firepower crushing the opposition, Burnley's home fans stomped their feet until Turf Moor shook, belting out their anthem to the heavens.
"No one likes us!"
"No one likes us!"
"No one likes us!"
"We don't care!"
"We are Burnley!"
"Super Burnley!"
"We are Burnley!"
"From the Moor!"