Chapter 29 – Champions League Night

Champions League Group Stage – Matchday 3

Manchester United vs S.C. Braga (Old Trafford)

Kickoff: 20:00 BST

BT Sport Studio – 19:20 BST

Live from Old Trafford, pre-match coverage

Gary Lineker "A cold night in Manchester, and Braga are no pushovers. But let's not bury the lead — sixteen-year-old Alexander Marshall starts again tonight. This is his first Champions League start. At Old Trafford. Under the lights. That's not small."

Gary Neville grinning slightly "It's not just not small, Gary — it's massive. I played with some of the biggest names at this club, and I can tell you, walking out under the Champions League anthem at Old Trafford… it does something to you. You can either shrink, or you grow two inches. Tonight, we find out what he's made of."

Owen Hargreaves "Braga will be compact. They're not here to roll over. They're going to crowd Marshall's space, especially since he likes to cut inside onto his left. But he's sharp — deceptively calm. If he can find moments — just moments — he'll change the game."

Gary Neville "He's shown flashes of brilliance already. That assist against Liverpool? Cold-blooded. What impresses me most isn't the flair, it's the decision-making. He plays like a senior. Doesn't force it."

Gary Lineker "And the chemistry with the front line seems to be growing match by match. That's rare for someone his age."

Gary Neville "Let's be honest — a kid comes into this side and doesn't look out of place? That's a statement. I just hope the pressure doesn't get to him tonight. Because this… this is a new level."

Owen Hargreaves "I think he knows that. But look — if he gives them 60 minutes of smart play and one moment of magic? That's more than enough."

Gary Lineker "And that's what we're watching for tonight — one moment of magic. Let's see if the teenager delivers again."

TUNNEL – 19:56 BST

Alex stood in the tunnel, shoulders squared, boots laced tight, every breath slightly shorter than the last. The floodlights outside cast a silver glow into the corridor, bouncing off the polished boots and badges of Manchester United's eleven.

To his left, Wayne Rooney bounced on the balls of his feet, hyper-focused but alert.

"You alright, kid?" Rooney asked without turning.

Alex managed a nod. "Yeah. Just… it's a lot."

Rooney smirked. "Good. Means it matters."

Carrick stood behind them, stretching quietly. He leaned in, voice low but steady. "It'll disappear after the first touch. Trust yourself."

Ahead, Braga's players looked equally tense, but less composed. Their captain adjusted his armband three times. Someone coughed. Another tied and retied his laces.

Alex looked down the tunnel and saw a glimpse of the stadium beyond — red, pulsing with energy.

Evra, near the front, caught Alex's eye and gave a small nod.

"In this tunnel," he said softly in his French-accented English, "you're no longer a boy. You walk out, and the world sees what you are."

The match official gave the signal.

A hush.Then the sound.

That sound.

THE CHAAAAAMPIONS…

The Champions League anthem rang out, ethereal and thunderous, echoing through the corridors of the stadium like it had done for legends.

Alex froze for a second.

He'd heard it all his life — on living room TVs, through grainy speakers in pubs, in FIFA menus and YouTube montages.

But this was different. This was his anthem now.

His breath caught. Goosebumps.

Rooney gently bumped him with his shoulder. "Let's go."

They walked.

Out of the tunnel and into the cathedral of light that was Old Trafford on a European night.

The crowd erupted, flags waving, scarves lifted high, flares of camera flashes bursting in the stands.

Alex looked up. The red seats looked endless. The Champions League logo glowed at center pitch.

They lined up shoulder to shoulder. Arms behind backs. Facing the Stretford End.

The anthem swelled to its final crescendo.Alex closed his eyes for half a second.Inhale. Exhale.

His first Champions League start.At sixteen.At home.Under the lights.

Commentator 1 (Gary Lineker):"Look at him — Alexander Marshall, barely old enough to drive, standing tall in a United shirt under the floodlights. What a moment."

Commentator 2 (Gary Neville):"You remember your first night like this forever. He looks nervous — but nerves are good. They mean you care."

The anthem faded.

The crowd cheered.

Alex looked to his left — Rooney. To his right — Kagawa. Legends in the making.

Then he looked up at the scoreboard.

Manchester United vs BragaChampions League – Group StageKick-off imminent.

Rooney leaned over and whispered, just before the handshakes.

"Remember what I told you. First touch. That's all that matters."

Alex nodded. His heartbeat slowed just a bit.

The ref blew the whistle. The ball was placed at center circle.

It was time

FIRST HALF

Kickoff.

Braga struck like lightning.

3rd Minute 

A long, slicing diagonal from Alan — perfect weight, perfect vision — soared behind United's defensive line. Éder timed his run to perfection, ghosting behind Rafael at the far post. The ball bounced once, and Éder climbed high above the right-back, powering a header down and across De Gea.

The ball hit the turf and skipped up into the roof of the net.

Braga lead 1–0 at Old Trafford.

Gary Lineker "That's a nightmare start! United caught cold!"

Gary Neville "Credit Braga — that's brave, direct football. Éder wanted that more than Rafael. United need to wake up."

The away section of the ground erupted, flares of red and white flashing behind the goal. Braga's players sprinted to the corner flag in disbelief.

Sir Alex, arms folded, didn't blink. Then clapped, sharply. "Play! Keep the rhythm!"

United tried to respond. In the 7th minute, Carrick floated a clever ball over the top — Van Persie chested it down and volleyed first time, but it flashed just wide of the near post.

10th minute — a chance for Braga again.Rubén Micael dispossessed Evans and sent Éder through again, but this time De Gea was alert, racing out to smother the shot.

14th minute — Kagawa and Rooney combined with a one-two on the edge of the box. Kagawa slipped a pass to Alex, who tried to feed it low across goal — but it was cut out at the last second by Braga's centre-back Douglao.

Then came the spark.

19th Minute It started with Tom Cleverley, picking up a loose ball near halfway. A sharp turn, then he burst forward through midfield. As Braga's shape shifted, Cleverley fed the ball wide to the right.

Alex Marshall didn't hesitate.

One touch to control. Another to knock it past the over-committed Braga left-back. The crowd roared.

He hit the byline — stopped — chopped inside on his left. The defender slid by helplessly.

Then came the moment. He kept calm, scanned, and picked the perfect cutback.

Van Persie, arriving like clockwork, side-footed it first time. A bullet into the far bottom corner. Braga's keeper didn't move.

1–1. Game on.

Neville "Brilliant from the teenager! That's composure you don't teach!"

Lineker "He beat his man twice and served it on a plate. Marshall doesn't just play — he sees."

Old Trafford erupted, scarves in the air, songs pouring down from the Stretford End.

Alex didn't over-celebrate — just a quiet fist pump as Van Persie wrapped an arm around his neck and grinned.

"You keep doing that," Van Persie said, "we're gonna be just fine."

United started to take control. Possession tipped in their favor. Braga dropped deeper.

23rd Minute

United were pushing now, rhythm building like a drumbeat. Carrick picked up the tempo, spraying a quick diagonal to Evra, who had charged up the left.

The Frenchman didn't pause — he curled in a teasing cross with his weaker foot. It hung in the air, spinning, drifting toward the edge of the six-yard box.

Rooney rose like a man possessed.

He shrugged off his marker and launched himself upward, muscles taut, neck snapping forward — boom. A thumping header met the ball with violent precision.

The crowd held its breath.

The ball arced… dipping… but not quite enough.

It scraped the top netting and fell behind the goal.

"That's inches away! Rooney attacked it like a freight train."

"Textbook cross from Evra — and what a leap from Wayne. He knows he should've buried it. That's a let-off for Braga."

Rooney landed and grimaced, hands on hips, exhaling frustration.

Alex — just arriving at the edge of the box — gave him a nod. "Next one's going in."

Rooney huffed a breath, then pointed at him. "you keep feeding it, I'll keep swinging."

The crowd responded — louder now. United were alive.The hunt was on.

25th Minute

Braga didn't sit back.

A poor corner delivery from United turned into chaos — Braga sprang forward like a coiled spring.

One slick touch from Alan, then a fizzed ball through the middle. Éder dropped deep, dragging Evans out of position, and played a first-time layoff into space.

Mossoró was off like a bullet.

He surged past Carrick, eating up the ground. Rafael gave chase but was half a step too slow.

Alex tracked back, pumping his legs — but he was still yards behind.

Inside the box now. The angle was tight, but Mossoró didn't hesitate — he pulled the trigger.

A low shot across goal.

Just wide.

"That could've been 2–1! United carved open by one pass."

"Mossoró did everything right until the finish — it's a let-off. Credit Éder for the hold-up and vision. That counter was ruthless."

Sir Alex barked from the sideline, waving his arms."Wake up! Get organized!"

De Gea slammed the post in frustration. The Stretford End exhaled — tension mounting.

Alex turned and jogged back, shaking his head.

That was close. Too close.

Then — a mistake.

28th Minute.A hopeful long-range effort from Alan forced a low save from De Gea, who parried it into traffic. United's defenders hesitated.

Rubén Micael didn't.

He pounced — first to react — and slotted the rebound home from eight yards out. No chance for De Gea.

2–1. Braga led again.

"You can't switch off like that in Europe. You will be punished."

"That's too soft. They had bodies back — just didn't clear it. Micael wanted it more."

Frustration swelled.

Sir Alex paced the touchline. No shouting. Just simmering focus.

United pressed.

32nd Minute

Alex slipped into the half-space, took a fizzed pass from Rooney, and tried a curling left-footed strike. It took a deflection and clipped the outside of the post.

38th Minute

Rooney flicked a ball behind Braga's line. Van Persie rounded the keeper… but his touch ran too wide and the angle disappeared. He hit the side netting.

42nd Minute

A slick one-two between Alex and Cleverley had the teenager tumbling in the box after a clumsy tackle — but the ref waved it away. Old Trafford screamed for a penalty. Nothing given.

Halftime approached.

45+1 minute — Alex won a corner with a feint and burst down the right. He drove the ball off the defender's shin. Corner taken short. Braga cleared.

Half-time whistle.

Sir Alex turned toward the tunnel, jaw tight, but eyes alive. The match wasn't over.

It was boiling.

And so was Alex

HALFTIME – LOCKER ROOM

The room buzzed with frustration.

Boots scraped the floor. Water bottles clattered. Rain tapped the windows like a ticking clock.

Rooney ripped off his armband and flung it at his locker."Sloppy! We're giving them way too much bloody space! They're walking through us!"

Van Persie sat on the bench, elbows on knees, staring at the floor, silent.Carrick shook his head and muttered under his breath, "We're chasing shadows."

Alex sat in the corner, jersey soaked, chest rising and falling. His right leg bounced — nerves or energy, maybe both.

Then the room fell quiet.

Sir Alex didn't yell. He just stood there, arms folded, gaze sharp as a scalpel. The kind of silence that made players sweat more than shouting ever could.

He turned to the whiteboard. Clicked open a marker. Drew a thick black circle around a name.

"Marshall."

Alex's head snapped up.

"You've got your side on lockdown, lad. You've done your job."

Pause.

"Now I want more. Impact. Final third. If there's space, take it. If there's risk, weigh it and go. You have the green light."

The squad shifted slightly. Rooney looked over at Alex. Nodded once.

Sir Alex's eyes scanned the room.

"To the rest of you — stop babysitting him. He's not your little brother. He's not a mascot. He's in this team because he earns it. Let him play."

No one said a word.

"Let's go win this," he said, and turned toward the door.

But just before he stepped out, he looked back one more time.

"If we lose this game, we lose our grip on the group. If we win? We control our fate."

He pointed to the crest above the doorway.

"So play like it matters."

The door swung open, and the tunnel light poured in.

Alex stood up and adjusted his shirt. Rooney walked by and gave him a slap on the back.

"Right then. No pressure, wonderboy."

SECOND HALF

United came out with fire.

Carrick bossed the midfield, playing like a metronome. Evra surged down the left, overlapping Nani and whipping in dangerous crosses. Braga began to bend.

And Alex — unleashed — danced between Braga lines.

He found the ball with space just outside the right flank and nutmegged the left-back with a feint and flick, drawing a wave of noise from the crowd.

52nd Minute 

Rooney played a smart one-two with Kagawa and sent a cross into the box. Van Persie rose but nodded it just wide of the far post. The groan from the Stretford End was collective agony.

56th Minute 

A Braga counter ended with a dangerous strike from Micael that forced De Gea into a low, full-stretch save. United fans held their breath.

Then came the moment.

58th Minute

Rooney dropped into the half-space and spotted Alex in space.

The pass was crisp. Alex received it on the half-turn, drove forward, rode a shoulder challenge, and cut inside.

"He's gliding—like he's on rails!"

He let fly from 20 yards.

The shot stung the keeper's gloves — rebound!!!

Van Persie reacted like lightning and hammered home the rebound.

58th Minute –

GOAL MANCHESTER UNITED. Van Persie. 2–2. Assist: Marshall (2nd involvement)

"A teenager lights the fuse! That's fearless football!"

Old Trafford roared. The tide had turned.

63rd Minute 

Alex picked up the ball near the halfway line and took on three Braga players with tight touches and blistering acceleration. He skipped past one, dropped the second with a shoulder fake, and nearly slipped a killer pass through to Kagawa — but it was just overhit.

"That's… that's Bergkamp meets Messi! What is going on?"

68th Minute

Evra fired in a low cross from the left. Rooney dummied, and Nani met it clean… off the bar!

The ball bounced out to the right.

Alex was already there.

71st Minute

He was pinned by two Braga players near the touchline. Calm. Calm. One roll of the ball under his foot. Then another.

He glanced once.

Then clipped a curling cross — perfectly into the corridor of uncertainty.

Rooney darted across the near post and flicked it with the outside of his boot.

GOAL MANCHESTER UNITED!

Rooney. 3–2. Assist: Marshall (again).

"WHAT a ball! What a cross!"

"He's SIXTEEN! SIXTEEN! What is happening!?"

The players mobbed Rooney, but Rooney turned and pointed at Alex.

The kid stood, breathless, soaking in the moment.

Braga pushed forward desperately, but their chances fizzled. A late free kick was cleared by Ferdinand. A final corner was punched away by De Gea.

Full-time: Manchester United 3 – 2 Braga.

Old Trafford sang. The flags waved. And as Alex jogged toward the tunnel, the camera followed him — spotlight burning.

POST-MATCH – INTERVIEW

BT Sport Reporter "Alex, two assists in your first Champions League start. Talk us through your night."

Alex smiling, a little out of breath "Honestly? It's all a blur. I just wanted to help the team. After that early goal, I knew we had to raise it."

Reporter "That cross for Rooney — incredible vision. Are you starting to feel like you belong?"

Alex "Maybe. I mean, every match is still surreal. But the dressing room's been great. The staff. The gaffer. They believe in me, so I try to deliver."

Reporter "You're sixteen, playing under the lights at Old Trafford. What would you tell the younger version of you watching this from home?"

Alex grinned. "I'd say... don't quit. Even if the dream feels like it's fading — hold on. Because nights like this? They're worth everything."