[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-start-with-r9-template":3,"chapter-start-with-r9-template-start-with-r9-template-chapter-161":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Start with R9 Template",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1388626,1840,"Chapter 161 - 161","start-with-r9-template-chapter-161",161,"\u003Cp>Thomas Müller unleashed a primal roar, sliding on his knees across the Allianz Arena turf, tearing up the grass as the home crowd erupted into a frenzy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The noise was like a wall of sound that vibrated in the chests of the Manchester United players.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Robert Lewandowski was the first to arrive, wrapping his arms around Müller's neck and screaming into the din.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ja! That is it! Well done, lads!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Let's make it another 6-0!\" Joshua Kimmich yelled, running over with a radiant, almost arrogant smile plastered on his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Show our guests some real German hospitality!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kimmich felt a rush of validation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before the match, the media had hyped up this United side, talking about their defensive solidity and Mourinho's tactical masterclass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But five minutes in? They looked like paper tigers—all barks and no bite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hadn't Bayern already sliced through their defense like a hot knife through butter? And the goalscorer was Müller—the man known as the \"Disaster Opener.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he scored early, it usually signaled a massacre.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the 2009 Champions League, after a Müller opener, Bayern had annihilated Sporting Lisbon 12-1 on aggregate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then there was the 7-1 against Brazil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Bayern fans in the stands sensed blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They raised their arms, their faces twisted with the thrill of revenge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To them, their trophy room should have housed one more Champions League trophy—the one from 1999.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Kill it off!\" a Bavarian ultra screamed, leaning over the railing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Bury them now!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tragic ending of the 'Black Three Minutes' at the Camp Nou was forever etched in their collective memory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No amount of Bundesligas could heal the scar of Solskjaer's toe-poke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were determined to crush Manchester United every time they met, to erase that ghost through sheer brute force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You Brits will never score at the Allianz!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Another one! We want another one!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the away section, the traveling United fans looked bewildered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were used to seeing their team control the tempo in the Premier League this season, usually grinding out a lead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this? This was a disaster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The speed of Bayern's play was frightening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Wake up!\" a lad from Salford shouted, cupping his hands. \"Come on United! It's only one goal!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They rallied their spirits, singing \"United We Stand\" to drown out the German drums.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A comeback? United could stage comebacks in their sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had done it in Turin in '99 and they could do it here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>....\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The camera cut to the technical areas.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jupp Heynckes stood with his hands in his pockets, his face full of serene composure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the calm of a 73-year-old grandmaster who had seen everything football could throw at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He took command when the army was defeated, and received his orders in times of crisis.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The description fit perfectly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Last year, Bayern had been a mess under Ancelotti—draws, losses, a humiliating 3-0 defeat to PSG, and a dressing room on the verge of mutiny.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Heynckes had returned for his third stint, and suddenly, the machine was fixed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His gaze swept over the pitch; seven of these starters were with him for the 2013 treble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew exactly what they were capable of.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the other side, Jose Mourinho was stomping the touchline, his brow furrowed deep enough to plant seeds in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The goal had come too suddenly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a slap in the face to his preparation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Don't recklessly challenge for the ball!\" Mourinho roared, pointing frantically at Phil Jones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Maintain the shape! Everyone hold your positions! Stop running like headless chickens!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't going to lose his composure over one conceded goal—he was the Special One after all—but the ease with which Bayern had penetrated the left flank was concerning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Stabilizing the defensive structure was now the priority, or this would turn into a cricket score.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The match resumed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Romelu Lukaku tapped the ball back to Jesse Lingard, and United tried to reset.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a series of nervous passes, the ball reached Paul Pogba's feet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Immediately, a swarm of red shirts descended on him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bayern's entire formation pressed forward aggressively.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Forget Guardiola's \"tiki-taka\" philosophy of controlled possession; this was Jupp Heynckes' heavy metal football.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Total attack, total defense, layered pressing, unstoppable momentum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While the world was obsessed with passing triangles, Heynckes was piercing through the mist with direct, vertical violence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guardiola's three years in Munich had brought success, but many felt he had sterilized Bayern's traditional power, wasting the peak years of Robben and Ribery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heynckes had unleashed the beast again!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the veterans were pressing like teenagers on Red Bull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>United, never the most comfortable team playing out from the back, looked shaky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they kept dallying on the ball, Neuer's replacement would be picking it out of his net again in minutes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pogba understood this perfectly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Frenchman used his massive body to shield the ball from Vidal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The template of a world-class midfielder included not just physicality and technique, but the vision to see the matrix.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked up, spotting a mismatch in bayern position.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bayern's high press had a flaw: their single defensive midfielder, Javi Martinez, couldn't cover the entire width of the pitch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thwack!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pogba didn't hesitate, pinging a diagonal ball that lifted off the grass with a crisp sound, flying low and fast toward the left flank like a tracer bullet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Pogba releases the pressure valve,\" Gary Neville commented from the gantry. \"That is a glorious ball, but can Ling control it with Kimmich breathing down his neck?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Controlling such a pass at speed was difficult enough. Doing it with Joshua Kimmich charging at you was a nightmare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kimmich had decided not to wait.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't going to jockey like Alexander-Arnold; he was going to snap into the tackle before Ling could turn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'How do you handle the ball when you can't exert full force?'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling saw the German coming. He didn't panic, instead, his muscles tensed, locking his core.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't try to move away as he leaned into the challenge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The collision was heavy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kimmich felt like he had crashed into a concrete wall. He bounced off Ling's shoulder, momentarily stunned by the winger's sheer static strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Get off me,\" Ling seemed to say with his body language.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Kimmich off-balance, Ling focused on the ball dropping from the night sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball seemed to sink into a soft sponge, its violent momentum instantly vanishing as it kissed Ling's boot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the kind of touch that separates the good from the elite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Oh, stop it,\" Martin Tyler purred on the commentary. \"That touch is filthy. Kimmich tried to bully him, but he just bounced off!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He's not going down the line this time, Martin,\" Neville noted. \"Look at the movement inside!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling cut sharply inside, driving straight into the heart of Bayern's midfield.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He's driving right into the traffic!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And look at the support!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jesse Lingard and Juan Mata simultaneously drifted inward, collapsing the space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, Javi Martinez found himself in a tactical nightmare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was the lone pivot in Bayern's 4-1-4-1, and he was completely encircled. Lingard was buzzing to his left, Ling was driving at his face, and Mata was lurking in the half-space to his right.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though Martinez was a destroyer of the highest caliber—a World Cup winner with interception stats rivaling N'Golo Kanté—he couldn't fight physics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had to choose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped toward Lingard, the most immediate central threat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Checkmate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That movement freed up the passing lane to the right!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling, reading the game like a grandmaster, didn't force the dribble. He flicked a simple, horizontal pass to Juan Mata.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mata was the antithesis of a modern Premier League athlete.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was slow, small, and couldn't tackle a lamppost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his brain operated on a different frequency.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this Mourinho system, he was the \"shadow striker,\" the lubricant that made the gears turn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mata received the ball in the pocket of space Martinez had vacated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Mata in the pocket,\" Tyler said, his voice rising in anticipation. \"This is where he hurts you. The little magician has time to turn.\"\u003C\u002Fp>",1342,"2026-06-05T22:48:23.062Z",1,"novelbin.me","bf2551690ff2abf1373ba04d2ea9c1486e7220d4c3843e933855d18022179531","start-with-r9-template-chapter-162","start-with-r9-template-chapter-160",371,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fstart-with-r9-template-cover.jpg"]