2-2
Tiger King sat in silence for a moment after the final whistle, his expression unreadable. A 2-0 lead at halftime had looked comfortable, almost routine. The team had played with purpose—Shinji Kagawa and Hernandez combined beautifully for the first goal, a clever feint from Kagawa opening space before a perfectly weighted pass allowed Hernandez to finish with ease. The second goal was just as fluid, with Raphael charging down the right flank, cutting through defenders, and delivering a pinpoint cross that Rooney cushioned for Hernandez to fire home.
It was the kind of football that had defined Manchester United at their best—quick, incisive, and ruthless. Tiger had even praised them at halftime, reminding them of the "Red Devil spirit" and urging them to finish strong.
But the second half had been a different story. The Osaka Sakura coach had adjusted, replacing two tired veterans with young, energetic players, and tightening his team's shape. Suddenly, the space that United had exploited so freely in the first half was gone. Instead, Osaka Sakura sat deep, absorbing pressure and waiting for their moment.
And when it came, Manchester United had no answer. Twice, their midfield was bypassed with ease—Kagawa's creative spark was evident, but his lack of physicality left gaps in the middle. Fletcher, a hardworking presence, lacked the speed to recover against Sakura's quick counters. Jones and Smalling, tall and strong but slow to turn, struggled to deal with the swift, technical forwards who ran at them. Twice, Osaka Sakura broke through, exposing United's soft underbelly, and twice, De Gea was left helpless as the ball hit the back of the net.
By the time the final whistle blew, the 2-0 lead had vanished, replaced by a frustrating 2-2 draw. Tiger clenched his jaw. The team had learned from the humiliation in Thailand, where their arrogance had led to a shocking 1-0 loss against the Thai Lions, but this was a different kind of failure. This time, it wasn't complacency—it was fragility.
Tiger King took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping across the pitch where Osaka Sakura players celebrated their comeback. There were lessons to take from this, but he knew one thing for sure. Manchester United did not blow 2-0 leads. This wouldn't happen again.
Another underwhelming result. Progress was visible, but there were still cracks in the foundation. Scholes turned to him. "Not the worst outcome, but still disappointing."
Tiger exhaled slowly. "We let them get comfortable. We should've killed the game in the first half."
Back in the locker room, the players filed in, some frustrated, others indifferent. The energy was completely different from halftime. Kagawa, despite his brilliant first half, looked drained. Hernandez, who had bagged a brace, sat down with a sigh.
Tiger King finally stood up, pacing in front of them. "Better than last time. But still not good enough." He looked around the room. "What happened in the second half?"
No one answered. Tiger continued. "We let them dictate the tempo. We let them dictate how we played. And we paid the price."
He pointed at the defense. "Jones, Smalling—you need to communicate better. If you know they're going to counter through the middle, you adjust. You don't let them carve through like that."
Then his gaze shifted to the midfield. "Kagawa, you played well in the first half, but you need to stay switched on for the full 90. Fletcher—good effort, but we needed more control."
He took a deep breath. "Listen to me. Dominating for 45 minutes means nothing if you don't finish the job. We had them on the ropes, and we let them back in. You want to be champions? You finish games."
The players nodded, absorbing his words.
"And don't forget," Tiger King continued, his voice firm, "this is still better than that mess in Thailand."
The locker room fell even quieter. The players hadn't forgotten the humiliating 1-0 loss against the Thai Lions All-Stars—a game where arrogance cost them everything. That night, they had been careless, selfish, and sloppy. The shock of losing to an unknown side had been a wake-up call.
"At least today, you fought," Tiger admitted. "At least today, you played with some discipline. But 'better' isn't good enough for Manchester United."
As the team headed back to the hotel, Scholes nudged him. "You're getting through to them."
Tiger gave a small smirk. "They'll get there. One way or another."
As the players filed into the locker room, bracing themselves for an outburst, they found Tiger King standing calmly in the center, his arms crossed, his expression steady. The silence was thick, weighed down by the disappointment of surrendering a two-goal lead.
"It is not the style of Manchester United to be struck twice by the opponent while in the lead," Tiger said evenly, his voice carrying a quiet authority.
The words landed harder than any shouting could have. The players lowered their heads, shame creeping in. They knew they had let their guard down.
But then, to their surprise, Tiger King's lips curled into a small smile. "Don't just stand there looking miserable. Go take a shower before you catch a cold."
The players exchanged glances, unsure whether to feel relieved or more unsettled. There was no furious outburst, no slammed fists—just a quiet reminder of the standards expected at Manchester United. And somehow, that made the weight of the draw feel even heavier.
As the bus rumbled through the streets back to the hotel, the mood inside was subdued. The players sat quietly, some staring out the window, others replaying moments of the game in their heads. The sting of surrendering a two-goal lead still lingered.
Scholes, sitting beside Tiger King, finally broke the silence. "Captain, we threw away a win today. Why aren't you angry?"
Tiger King leaned back, arms crossed, a hint of a smirk on his face. "Because I know exactly why we lost. And more importantly, I know how to fix it."
Scholes raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the confidence in his voice. "In the next game," Tiger continued, "we're going to show what Manchester United is really about."
Over the next few training sessions, the intensity increased. No one dared to relax, driven by an unspoken determination to prove themselves. The midfielders, in particular, began to click, their passing sharper, their transitions smoother.
Tiger King watched from the sidelines, nodding in approval. But more than anything, his eyes often drifted toward Scholes. The veteran's influence on the younger midfielders was undeniable. His presence alone seemed to elevate their game.
Tiger smirked to himself. Keeping Paul here was like finding treasure. With him, I don't just have a coach—I have a master at work.