CHAPTER 450: RONALDINHO DEBUT!

Playing in the U-17 team or in the FA Youth Cup was probably very different from the Premier League, especially when making your first appearance.

It all came down to trust.

To ensure no unnecessary pressure fell on the young Brazilian, Richard chose his words carefully — as simple as possible.

Ronaldinho nodded, eyes sparkling with eagerness. He wanted to compete at the highest level, to test himself against the best. Richard acknowledged him with a brief nod and said nothing more.

"Don’t hang your heads. That goal sucked the air out of us, yes, but it’s not the end. Not by a long shot. We’ve controlled the ball, we’ve created chances, and we know exactly how Tottenham play."

As Richard approached the locker room, he could hear O’Neill giving his motivational talk to the players. He did not disturb the team — respect for the process was everything. Once O’Neill finished, Richard called over both O’Neill and Mourinho.

As they approached, Richard immediately pointed to Ronaldinho, standing quietly with his back to them.

"Give him ten minutes — yeah, let him play forward," Richard said firmly.

There was a pause. Mourinho frowned. O’Neill’s eyebrows shot up.

"This—" O’Neill started, clearly hesitant.

"I know this is sudden," Richard interrupted. "But the longer you keep your best option on the bench, the longer we fall behind. Timing is everything. Let him play. Ten minutes. Then we reassess."

Richard simply nodded once, a silent command: trust him, and the game might just change.

Both O’Neill and Mourinho exchanged glances.

"Who are we taking off?" O’Neill finally asked.

"Who else?" Richard said without hesitation. "Eto’o. He’s barely been in the game."

O’Neill frowned, rubbing his temple. Mourinho crossed his arms, thinking.

Richard sighed, glancing toward the young striker sitting quietly at the end of the bench, water bottle in hand, sweat still dripping from his chin. "He’s not himself," he said softly. "Maybe the pressure got to him. Maybe it’s the travel, the weather... or the virus. The kid’s been through a lot."

Richard knew — Eto’o was still so young. Even in his real career path, Eto’o had taken several difficult steps before finding his footing. He had joined Real Madrid’s youth academy early on, long before becoming the goal-scoring machine the world would later know him as.

Finally, after some deliberation, O’Neill nodded and asked Richard for his opinion about Ronaldo.

"Left or center?" he asked.

Richard thought for a moment before replying, "Left — but let him move where he feels comfortable. Let his teammates play through him and see how he responds. You know how he plays; give him the freedom."

O’Neill nodded and brought Ronaldinho over to the technical area to change into his jersey and warm up. They planned to bring him on for the final ten minutes of the match.

After O’Neill left, only Richard and Mourinho remained in the quiet hallway outside the dressing room. The distant roar of the crowd seeped through the concrete walls.

Richard broke the silence first. "Is everything settled with his family?" he asked, his voice calm but sincere.

Mourinho, who usually oversaw the players’ off-field affairs as O’Neill’s assistant, nodded. "Yes. We arranged for his sister to attend a girls’ school so she can continue her education. His family agreed. We also helped set up a small shop in the community under his mother’s name — they were over the moon about it."

Richard smiled faintly, hands in his pockets. "That’s good then," he said quietly. "It’s important that he feels at home — the rest will follow."

Mourinho paused hearing this. "You know, from a non-professional perspective, that kid’s something else. On the pitch, he’s an artist. After all the grit and chaos of English football, watching him play feels like witnessing a bit of magic."

Before long, O’Neill returned and gave him a small nod, signaling that everything was ready. Ronaldinho would step onto the pitch around the 80th or 81st minute.

Richard nodded without saying a word.

There was a reason Richard was so determined to play Ronaldinho in this match — he knew exactly how Tottenham operated once they gained confidence.

At White Hart Lane — arguably one of the most poetic names in the Premier League — Tottenham always carried a certain mystique. There was something almost ethereal about the way they played.

Over the years, Tottenham had neither been the strongest team in the league nor a genuine title contender. They weren’t even the most talked-about side. Yet, their style of football was among the most elegant and enjoyable to watch in England. Spurs fans took pride in that — they loved beautiful football, and for them, aesthetics often mattered more than the final scoreline.

That philosophy persisted until a sharp-minded Jewish businessman, Daniel Levy, took charge of the club. His message was simple: trophies and profit.

So when Tottenham lined up today with a low-block defensive setup — even if it wasn’t quite "park the bus" — their manager, Christian Gross, had clearly gone against the club’s traditional spirit. It was a difficult adjustment for the fans to accept. But Richard understood.

In recent years, Tottenham had been slipping. Not long ago, they had boasted stars like Gary Lineker and Paul Gascoigne, under the attack-minded leadership of Terry Venables. Back then, Tottenham were like today’s Newcastle United — maybe inconsistent in results, but always breathtaking to watch when going forward.

Back to the pitch~

Today’s match featured a mix of senior and U-17 players. Among them were Ashley Cole and Samuel Eto’o, who was now being replaced by Ronaldinho. The physical battles were intense, and players like Ashley Cole struggled at first — but he still managed to hold his ground and continued playing into the second half.

The match continued as usual — City kept pressing, but not with the same intensity as in the first half. Being 2–0 down had allowed Tottenham to grow comfortable with their lead.

PHEEEEEE~

Finally, in the 71st minute, O’Neill made an earlier-than-planned substitution, taking off Eto’o for Ronaldinho, with Manchester City still trailing by two goals.

Once Ronaldinho stepped onto the pitch, O’Neill couldn’t help but frown. Before the substitution, he had carefully explained Ronaldinho’s role using the tactical board — play up front, stay high, stretch the defense. Ronaldinho had nodded obediently, giving every sign he understood.

Yet, the moment his boots touched the grass, the Brazilian drifted straight back into midfield, waving for the ball like it was the most natural thing in the world.

O’Neill’s mouth twitched. ’He’s exactly like Ronaldo,’ he thought.

He was just about to shout a correction — then stopped, hearing Richard’s earlier words echo in his head: ’Let him play where he feels comfortable.’

O’Neill exhaled through his nose, lowering his raised hand. ’Fine, kid. Show me what you’ve got.’

Ronaldinho received the ball from the center circle, his touch as light as silk. In one motion, he turned and began to glide forward, his feet dancing over the ball with effortless rhythm. Tottenham’s Justin Edinburgh stepped up to close him down — too eager, too high.

A simple feint. A sway of the hips. Edinburgh lunged the wrong way. Ronaldinho slipped past him as if the defender were made of air.

On the touchline, Tottenham manager Christian Gross exploded. "Edi! How many times have I told you? Don’t dive in when pressing! Protect the space behind you!"

But it was too late. Edinburgh, who had wanted to impress his manager, now looked back helplessly — the young Brazilian had already left him behind, gliding toward the attacking third. For a brief second, Edinburgh just stood there, watching.

Ronaldinho danced around the pitch as if he were a sprite, dribbling skillfully and weaving past opponents. His touch was so natural that even Okocha — hailed as the most skillful freestyle player in City’s dressing room — stood up and forgot to move on the right flank.

Richard, who hadn’t even managed to sit down yet, was already on his feet, eyes wide in disbelief at what he was witnessing. He couldn’t hide his excitement at Ronaldinho’s performance.

Of course, for ordinary football fans, watching someone dribble like that would only make them more thrilled — eager to see what came next. But for a manager, while the display was undeniably brilliant, it was also nerve-wracking.

Well, It’s natural for talented young players to hold onto the ball longer — especially Brazilian players. The coach’s responsibility is to correct those habits and help them use their talent effectively.

"Pass the ball! Pass the ball! Pass the ball! F**k! Just pass it!" O’Neill shouted desperately from the touchline. But the Brazilian didn’t seem to hear him.

After beating Edinburgh, Ronaldinho charged forward, gliding past Ginola and Darren Anderton through midfield. Then, combining beautifully with Stanković in a quick one-two, he split Tottenham’s defensive line wide open, driving the ball toward the penalty box.

With fifteen minutes left in the match, O’Neill called on the other players to be ready for any counterattack, just in case.

But it seemed he had slightly underestimated Ronaldinho

Again and again, even if he found his efforts thwarted — blocked by defenders working in unison. In short, you could see the pattern: Ronaldinho would receive the ball from his teammates, then try to dribble past the defenders to score, over and over again.

The problem was... out of ten attempts, probably nine were successful. This naturally made Tottenham start taking him much more seriously.

Following this adjustment — thanks to Ronaldinho and Ronaldo — Manchester City’s attacking combinations began to flow more smoothly, creating clearer and more consistent threats.

In essence, this was about assigning fixed roles with no room for interchangeability. Ronaldinho was designated as the connector, while Ronaldo took on the role of the finisher. Sometimes, Stanković would serve as the supporting player behind them. Once they developed mutual understanding, they would be able to switch roles seamlessly.

On the left flank, Ronaldinho, Stanković, and Ronaldo exchanged passes and runs, with Ronaldo’s explosive pace slicing through Tottenham’s defense like a knife, repeatedly threatening their goal.

In the eightieth minute of the second half, after Ronaldinho received the ball and Ronaldo made a forward run, Tottenham’s Stephen Carr and Sol Campbell anticipated a return pass to Ronaldo. They attempted to block the passing lane and marked him tightly.

But they were wrong.

Ronaldinho pulled the ball back and played a quick lateral pass to Lampard, who shifted it to Nakata in the center.

Nakata returned it to Ronaldinho, who then threaded a brilliant through ball that cut straight through Tottenham’s defense. With the defenders and midfilders clustered around Ronaldo and the central area heavily guarded, the flanks were left exposed, expecially the right.

"Okocha’s there!" shouted the commentator, his voice rising.

Zambrotta and Ashley Cole were tireless, surging forward again to stretch the defense. This time, however, Tottenham seemed to have learned their lesson—they closed ranks, bodies packed deep, ready to absorb another wave of pressure.

But Ronaldinho, dancing between their lines, pulled defenders toward him with every feint, every flick, every deceptive touch. He created chaos—just enough to open a fleeting window of space.

City seized it.

Ronaldinho fed the ball outward; a quick one-two exchange later, the ball found its way back to Okocha at the edge of the box. Without breaking stride, he unleashed a thunderous strike from a 45-degree angle—pure, clean, and fearless.

The shot tore through the air like an arrow—no spin, no hesitation—just raw power and precision.

It curved ever so slightly before slamming into the top right corner of the goal.

"WHAT. A. STRIKE! Jay-jay Okocha,! Absolutely magnificent!"