Dynasty Awakening: Building My Own Football Empire-Chapter 216: Ferrari on the Wing

BARNSLEY 3 - 3 CHELSEA

It was minute 72. Barnsley had just equalized with the most chaotic goal in history. Jamie Vardy had slid into the post. Diego Nunez had assisted with his big toe.

Michael Sterling stood on the touchline. His heart was hammering against his ribs. He felt like he had run a marathon.

Arthur Milton was on the floor next to the bench. He was trying to find his bag of jelly babies.

"Get up Arthur," Michael said breathlessly. "It is not over. We have momentum. We have the noise. We can win this."

"I cannot stand up Boss," Arthur said from the ground. "My legs are jelly. Just like the sweets."

On the pitch Diego Nunez was screaming.

"ATTACK!" Diego roared. "WE ARE THE BASH BROTHERS! WE EAT BLUE LIONS FOR BREAKFAST!"

Jean Luc Dubois the French giant nodded.

"I am hungry," Jean Luc agreed. "Let us feast."

THE WARNING SIGNS

But amidst the noise and the adrenaline Michael saw a problem.

A big problem.

Enzo Silva was injured. Benjamin Pavard was injured.

Left back was now occupied by Amara. Amara was a winger. He liked to dribble. He did not like to tackle. He did not know how to track a runner.

Mauricio Pochettino the Chelsea manager saw this too. He was not celebrating the Barnsley equalizer. He was smiling a cold tactical smile.

He called over a player from the sideline.

Mykhailo Mudryk.

The Ukrainian winger. He was inconsistent. Sometimes he kicked the ball into the car park. But he had one thing that terrified defenders.

Speed. Pure electric speed.

"Watch out!" Michael shouted to Amara. "He is fast! Do not get too close!"

Amara gave a thumbs up. He looked confident. Too confident.

"I am fast too Boss!" Amara shouted. "I have turbo legs!"

THE INVASION BEGINS

Minute 76

Chelsea had the ball. They did not panic. They passed it to Enzo Fernandez.

Enzo looked up. He saw the mismatch.

Mudryk was standing on the touchline. He was right next to Amara.

Enzo kicked the ball into the space behind the defense.

"RUN!" Pochettino screamed.

Mudryk engaged his engines.

It was not a race. It was a massacre.

Amara tried to turn. But by the time he turned Mudryk was already five yards past him.

"He is a Ferrari!" Arthur shouted standing up in horror. "And Amara is a bicycle!"

Mudryk reached the ball. He was in the box.

Jan Visser came out. The giant goalkeeper made himself huge.

Mudryk did not shoot. He squared the ball.

Nicolas Jackson was there.

But so was Sergio Ramos.

The veteran captain threw himself in the way. He blocked the shot.

THUD.

The ball flew out for a corner.

"WAKE UP!" Ramos screamed at Amara. "He is faster than light! Do not let him turn!"

"I tried!" Amara gasped. "He disappeared! He is a magician!"

THE COLLAPSE

Minute 80

The warning was clear. But Barnsley could not fix it. They had no more defenders on the bench. They had used all their substitutions.

They were trapped.

Chelsea cleared a Barnsley corner.

The ball fell to Mudryk again.

This time he was on the halfway line.

Amara tried to tackle him. He lunged in. It was a bad tackle. A striker tackle.

Mudryk just pushed the ball past him.

"See you later," Mudryk seemed to say.

He sprinted.

The crowd went silent. They knew what was coming.

Diego Nunez tried to come across. The Bull ran as fast as he could.

"I will stop the car!" Diego shouted.

But Mudryk was too fast. He drove past Diego like the Bull was a statue.

He was one on one with Jan Visser.

Mudryk did not pass this time. He smashed it.

The ball flew into the roof of the net.

GOAL.

Chelsea 4. Barnsley 3.

Mudryk ran to the corner. He did a backflip.

Amara fell to his knees. He looked at Michael.

"He is too fast Boss," Amara cried. "I need a motorbike."

THE DESPERATION

Minute 85

4 to 3.

Five minutes left.

The title was slipping away. Manchester City were watching from their sofas laughing.

Michael Sterling made a decision. A crazy decision.

"ALL ATTACK!" Michael screamed. "EVERYONE UP!"

"Even me?" Jan Visser asked from his goal.

"No not you Jan," Michael said. "But Diego! Go up front! Be a striker!"

Diego Nunez eyes lit up.

"Finally," Diego whispered. "My destiny."

Barnsley played a formation that did not exist.

It was a 2 1 7.

Two defenders. One midfielder. Seven attackers.

It was suicide. But it was glorious suicide.

Minute 88

They almost scored.

Jean Luc Dubois won a header. He knocked it down to Diego Nunez.

Diego was in the box. He swung his leg.

"BOOM!" Diego shouted.

He connected perfectly.

But Robert Sanchez the Chelsea goalkeeper made a world class save. He tipped it onto the bar.

CLANG.

"NO!" Arthur shouted tearing his purple tie. "Why does the metal hate us today?"

THE FINAL NAIL

Minute 90+2

Barnsley were all in the Chelsea box. Even Sergio Ramos was up.

Only Tom the young right back was defending.

Chelsea cleared the ball.

It fell to... Mudryk. Of course.

He was alone. He had fifty yards of empty green grass in front of him.

Tom tried to chase him. But Tom had played ninety minutes. Mudryk was fresh. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

It was painful to watch.

Mudryk ran. The crowd whistled.

Jan Visser stood on his line. He looked lonely.

Mudryk approached the box.

Jan Visser ran out. He tried a slide tackle near the penalty spot.

Mudryk simply chipped the ball.

It floated over the Dutchman head.

It bounced once. Twice.

And rolled into the net.

GOAL.

Chelsea 5. Barnsley 3.

FULL TIME WHISTLE.

The referee blew three times. It sounded like a funeral march.

THE AFTERMATH

The players collapsed.

Amara lay face down in the mud. He was sobbing.

"I am sorry," Amara said to the grass. "I am a winger. I belong further up the pitch."

Diego Nunez sat in the center circle. He looked like a giant confused baby.

"We scored three goals," Diego said to the sky. "Three is a lot. Why did they score five? Five is too many."

Michael Sterling walked onto the pitch.

He felt heavy. The adrenaline crash was brutal.

He walked to Amara. He picked him up.

"Stand up," Michael said gently. "It is not your fault. I put you there. You fought a Ferrari with bare hands."

"He was so fast Boss," Amara sniffed. "I have whiplash."

"I know," Michael said. "Go inside."

He walked to Diego.

"Diego," Michael said.

"Papa Michael," Diego said sadly. "I almost scored. I hit the bar. If I score we draw 4 to 4."

"Ifs and buts do not win titles Diego," Michael said. "Come on. The fans are waiting."

They walked to the away end. The Barnsley fans were still clapping. They had seen eight goals. They had seen their team fight until they broke.

But clapping did not give points.

THE LOCKER ROOM SILENCE

Inside the dressing room it was dead silent.

Jean Luc Dubois was sitting on the bench eating a block of cheese aggressively. He took big bites out of the cheddar.

"We were soft," Jean Luc grunted. "We score three we should win. We defended like butter. Warm butter."

Jamie Vardy was sitting with a towel over his head.

"I am tired," Vardy whispered. "I am thirty seven. Running like that hurts my bones."

Arthur Milton walked in. He looked at his phone.

"City won," Arthur said quietly. "They beat Fulham 3 to 0."

Michael looked at the league table in his mind.

1. Manchester City 74 Points

2. Barnsley 69 Points

Three games left. Five points behind.

It was almost mathematically impossible.

Michael stood in the center of the room.

"Listen to me," Michael said. His voice was calm but serious. "Today we got invaded. We faced speed that we could not handle. We had players out of position. It happens."

He looked at each of them.

"But do not look at the floor. Do not feel sorry for yourselves. We scored three goals against a billion pound team with a winger at left back and a tank up front."

"We are still Misfits," Diego Nunez said standing up.

"Yes," Michael said. "We are Misfits. And Misfits do not quit until the math says zero."

He pointed to the door.

"City think they have won. The media thinks we are dead. Let them think that. We have three games. We win all three. And we pray for a miracle."

"A miracle," Osimhen repeated adjusting his mask. "I like miracles."

THE BUS RIDE HOME

The bus was quiet on the way back to Yorkshire. No music. No pizza.

Michael sat next to Arthur.

"Five goals Arthur," Michael whispered. "We conceded five goals."

"Mudryk was unplayable Boss," Arthur said. "He was a glitch. Sometimes the game just beats you."

Michael looked out of the window at the rain.

The dream was fading. The golden trophy seemed very far away now.

But then his phone buzzed.

It was a picture from Sarah.

It was Baby Gabriel. He was sleeping. But he was holding a small football.

The caption read: He is still waiting for his gold medal.

Michael smiled. A small sad smile.

"We are not done Arthur," Michael said.

"We are not?"

"No," Michael said clenching his fist. "The fat lady has not sung yet. She is clearing her throat. But she has not sung."