CHAPTER 428: REAL MADRID’S CHAMPIONS LEAGUE DNA

After Ronaldo scored, he gestured to his teammates before the kick-off, and the City players immediately understood the message.

City had regained the lead, but a single goal still felt dangerously precarious.

As the game resumed, City’s attack shifted to the left. Pirlo began directing play towards Zidane and Neil Lennon, making the three the focal point of City’s offense. Thanks to the 10 vs 11 scenario, Madrid struggled to recover from the shock of conceding. They were constantly dominated by City, unable to control the midfield for even a minute.

However, Real Madrid is Real Madrid. After conceding, they tried to counterattack, but quickly discovered that City had no intention of retreating. Instead, City maintained their aggressive offensive style, threatening Madrid’s goal repeatedly with slick teamwork.

On the sidelines, Heynckes furrowed his brow in concern.

Many teams tend to grow timid when facing Real Madrid, opting for a more defensive approach. This strategy isn’t inherently wrong, but it indirectly plays into Madrid’s strengths, since their greatest weakness lies in defense. If pressure isn’t applied to their backline, their attack can crash down on opponents like a mountain—a tactical blunder.

In contrast, City chose the opposite path, pressing forward relentlessly. If Madrid wanted to defend, it meant committing more players to their backline, which weakened their own attack.

From the opening whistle, Seedorf and Roberto Carlos had barely made an impact in attack. And now, down a man, whenever Madrid tried to transition from defense to offense, they often found themselves too deep in their own half. If they failed to move the ball quickly and instead tried to dribble forward, City’s defense would recover before they could progress, creating a relentless press that suffocated their build-up.

Even when Madrid did manage to pass out, the stretched formation lowered their passing accuracy, allowing City’s defense to intercept easily.

With their attack dulled and their defense shaky, Madrid pulled back, trying to stabilize the situation and avoid a total collapse. Conceding another goal at this stage would surely mean the end.

At that moment, no one could have guessed that Pirlo striking the crossbar in the 79th minute was the latest twist in Madrid’s streak of fortune in this match.

After Zidane’s long-range shot had already rattled the frame, now it was Pirlo’s effort—saved by the woodwork—that spared Real Madrid once again.

Salgado gathered the ball inside the box, with Makelele hustling to close him down. Yet, he calmly passed it to the right side.

Karembeu arrived just in time to deliver a horizontal pass toward Redondo, who immediately slipped a through ball forward. Raul controlled it near the penalty spot!

Capdevilla and Thuram were positioned tightly, one in front of the other, pressing Raul. But he feigned a shot, forcing Capdevilla to stretch his leg for a block. Thuram, unwilling to commit recklessly, held his ground, applying pressure.

Capdevilla was confident his body could block the angle—but in the next instant, Raul nudged the ball to the side.

A brilliant feint!

Capdevilla lost his balance while Thuram was left helpless. Cannavaro saw the danger and charged in, sliding with all his strength to block Raul’s strike. But by the time he moved, the ball was already soaring toward goal.

It rolled smoothly, kissing the inside of the post before nestling into the back of the net.

In the 80th minute, Real Madrid equalized!

"Finally Raul shoots—no, he doesn’t shoot! He goes past Capdevilla—now the strike! It’s in! Raul scores the equalizer, fooling the entire Manchester City defense!"

The Real Madrid bench erupted in celebration. Staff members who had been frozen in tension leapt up, waving their arms in joy. On the sidelines, Heynckes allowed himself a gentle smile, reminding everyone to stay grounded.

It was only an equalizer.

But the Madrid players were ecstatic. They, more than anyone, understood how hard-fought this goal had been.

Raul lifted his hands, motioning to pump up the crowd. City still held the advantage but had failed to extend their lead. The players glanced toward the bench, their nerves beginning to show.

Richard, watching City concede, frowned. The situation reminded him of the 1998 final between Juventus and Real Madrid. In that match, Real had won 1‑0 thanks to a Predrag Mijatović goal. Juventus had been strong, so Real hadn’t dominated by a wide margin; the game had been strategic, disciplined, and cautious rather than a run-and-gun spectacle.

In big finals, teams often avoid taking excessive risks. They prefer compact, balanced play over launching frequent counterattacks against a team capable of turning defense into offense in a flash. That was the essence of Real Madrid’s so-called "Champions League DNA."

Thinking quickly, Richard picked up his phone and messaged Mourinho, while O’Neill shouted instructions frantically from the sideline.

On the pitch, Mourinho paused for a moment as he felt his phone vibrate. Pulling it out, he saw Richard’s message:

"No counter. All out!! Now or never!"

When Capdevilla was called to the sideline while waiting for the kick-off, he nodded and collected himself. He approached some players, showing them the sheet of paper they had handed over, which contained instructions or tactics.

All who read it studied it quickly, taking in every detail, before Capdevilla tucked it safely into his pocket. The players quickly shook off their disappointment at conceding.

Once the game resumed, it felt as if Real Madrid were looking to capitalize on their momentum. As City kicked off, they charged forward.

Three minutes in, Zidane surged into the box to meet Zanetti’s cross from the wing with a header aimed at goal. Ilgner confidently caught it and hurled a throw to the left side.

Zanetti had already sprinted back, but someone was even faster: Brazilian left-back Roberto Carlos!

There was no doubt he was quick, especially when attacking. He didn’t need to stop; Ilgner’s throw-in was aimed at the space behind Zanetti. For the first time, he became the hunter.

Roberto Carlos rushed down the wing, accelerating with every stride. Zanetti changed his route mid-chase—rather than following Roberto Carlos, he ran toward his own defensive zone near the penalty area. His plan was to have Makelele slow Carlos down and disrupt his rhythm, while he prepared to cover the difference.

Makelele read Zanetti’s movement and scanned the field. Pirlo had dropped back to mark Raúl, giving City an extra man defensively. Moving to the right flank, he couldn’t commit too strongly, wary of a Roberto Carlos cross aimed at an unmarked Seedorf.

Richard, seeing this, immediately stood up. He yelled, "No, no! It’s not a cross—he’ll shoot!"

Indeed, Roberto Carlos instead drove toward the baseline. From near the 45-degree angle, he unexpectedly chose to shoot from distance!

Yes, at least it seemed that way—his shot was heading straight for goal.

KABOOM!

It was a thunderous strike, shocking in its power. Although Buffon was prepared, he was still stunned as the ball hurtled toward him like a missile. Instinctively, he raised both hands to protect his face—he had been caught off guard.

The ball struck his hand, and the impact echoed so loudly that everyone could hear it—it sounded as if Buffon’s hand might break. The stadium fell into a collective chill.

"The precision! The audacity! From near the 45-degree angle and with sheer power! That shot from Roberto Carlos... it’s like a cannonball! Buffon barely got a hand to it, and even then, it rattled him to the core, I suppose!"

There was chaos in the penalty area after the ball was denied.

Pirlo had already positioned himself outside the penalty area, ready for action. But before he could turn, Raul stepped forward to seize the ball. He dribbled it forward, and Thuram stretched his leg to block him—but failed to make contact. Suddenly, Raul collapsed, and the referee paused the game, pointing to the penalty spot.

"What the—!! I didn’t even touch him!" Thuram roared at the referee, visibly fuming. "What a ridiculous decision!"

O’Neill and Mourinho, sensing the urgency, immediately raised their hands in protest, shaking their fingers while shouting at the fourth official. "That’s absolutely not a penalty! No way! he fell on purpose—he just wanted the penalty! It was a dive!"

But the official didn’t pay them any mind. In Europe, Manchester City carried little weight. Even with their acclaim in England, it seemed minuscule compared to the colossal authority of UEFA.

"Uh... this decision is certainly questionable," the commentator said. "Slow-motion footage shows that Thuram did extend his leg, but he didn’t make any contact with Raul at all. It was Raul who tumbled after the collision. In the heat of the moment, it’s understandable that the referee might not have seen it clearly—but this will surely spark debate long after the match."

The referee stood by his call, and Richard was fuming. Though there was a potential dive involved, the chance for it had arisen from Real Madrid’s second-phase attack. Their initial forward assault—whether in sequence or on the counter—had entirely failed to threaten City’s goal. Face-to-face defending isn’t particularly difficult against any elite team; the real challenge lies in defending against unpredictable second- and third-phase attacks.

Raúl stood at the penalty spot. At the referee’s whistle, he took his step and sent the ball into a theoretical dead zone. Buffon guessed wrong, watching helplessly as the ball slipped past him.

"Real Madrid has equalized with the penalty! 2‑2. Although they aren’t dominating the match, at least they aren’t trailing, which will help keep their mindset from unraveling as time goes on."

"FUCK!"

Mourinho cursed while O’Neill urged his players to shake off the frustration of conceding, simultaneously rallying the fans to cheer louder.

"Forget about the penalty! Keep your focus entirely on the game. Don’t think about anything else—we have plenty of time to win this!"

Had it been a reasonable penalty, they wouldn’t have needed to shout so fiercely at their players. But a dubious decision could stir dissatisfaction, and they had to ensure everyone concentrated on what truly mattered.

If the players felt wronged—if their focus shifted to arguing with the referee or fussing with opponents—there was no doubt they could lose this match.

Zanetti looked determined as he shouted to his teammates, "Come on, let’s score again!"

Zidane, who rarely spoke but always led by action, sprinted forward as the ball was played, energizing the attack. City regained their momentum, maintaining their high level of performance.