With the referee's whistle, the English national derby in the third round of the Premier League has begun. Liverpool don their traditional red jerseys, while Manchester United step onto the pitch in their black away kit.
Right from kickoff, Liverpool launch a relentless assault on Manchester United's goal!
Lucas takes possession in midfield and quickly shifts the ball to Henderson on the right. Henderson cuts inside and lays it off to Gerrard in the center.
Gerrard takes a strike from long range—just over the bar!
Moments later, Mignolet collects a Manchester United cross and swiftly initiates a counter with a quick throw.
Once again, it's Gerrard orchestrating the attack. This time, he feeds Coutinho, who wastes no time pulling the trigger. Jones bravely steps in and blocks the shot, clearing the danger!
Liverpool have dominated the opening ten minutes with wave after wave of attacks. With two attempts already, the pressure is mounting. What will Tiger King's Manchester United do in response?
On the sidelines, Scholes watches anxiously. "Liverpool's attack is sharp."
Tiger King remains composed. "We anticipated this. Just wait and see."
In the Sky Sports commentary box, Raman chuckles. "I understand now why Tiger King has set up defensively at Anfield. Just look at United's spine—Vidic at 31, Giggs at 40, Van Persie at 30. Their combined age surpasses a century! Compare that to Liverpool, whose youthful attackers—aside from veteran Gerrard—are full of energy and intensity. Under this relentless bombardment, United's defense will surely crumble soon. I can already picture Tiger King's frustration."
Morris, however, stays silent. He studies the pitch, concern evident in his expression. His team is under siege.
In the away stands, the Demon King Association, led by President Cook, erupts in chants of support.
"Louder! The team needs us now!" Cook bellows.
"Glory, Glory, Man United!" shouts Rodney, his voice the loudest among the crowd.
"Glory, Glory, Man United!" the fans chant in unison, their voices echoing through Anfield.
Meanwhile, Liverpool manager Brendan Rodgers paces the technical area, frustration creeping in. Twenty minutes gone, still 0-0. "Push forward! Get the goal!" he commands.
Liverpool heed their manager's call, surging higher up the pitch. Enrique and Johnson advance, transforming their 4-3-3 into an aggressive 2-5-3.
Tiger King spots an opening—his moment has arrived. He shouts instructions and makes a chopping motion. United's players understood immediately. The trap was set.
Minute 32. Liverpool maintain control. Coutinho, Liverpool's designated heir to Gerrard, is electric in the final third. He lines up another long-range shot—but this time, Vidic steps in with a crucial block, throwing his body in the way to deny the goal-bound effort!
The ball spills loose, bouncing toward Alderweireld. Without hesitation, he launches a long, pinpoint pass over the top—Van Persie is through!
Raman sighs. "That's Liverpool's sixth shot already. If not for Vidic's heroic block and Alderweireld's quick reaction to launch the counter, United would be in serious trouble. They need to capitalize on this momentum."
Just as he finishes speaking, Morris interjects, eyes widening. "De Gea releases it quickly to Alderweireld. Long pass forward—Van Persie is through!"
"United were deep inside their own box moments ago, even Rooney helping defend. The only one left upfield—Van Persie!"
"Van Persie races forward! Only Skrtel and Agger stand in his way! A golden chance!"
"He skips past Skrtel! Now just Agger to beat!"
United fans hold their breath, whispering in unison: "Pass him! Pass him!"
But Van Persie has other plans. Agger, unlike Skrtel, is nimble—taking him on directly is risky. Instead, Van Persie glances sideways. A black figure streaks forward.
Without hesitation, he lays it off.
Agger lunges—too late! He tumbles to the ground, bringing Van Persie down with him. He frantically waves to the referee, signaling for a foul to prevent Manchester United from playing the advantage.
Morris erupts. "It's Giggs! Giggs! He has been sprinting forward since Ferdinand's long pass! The veteran has lost none of his pace! He receives Van Persie's pass at the edge of the box!"
"Only Mignolet to beat—what will he do?!"
"He shoots! A thunderous strike into the top left corner! GOAL! GOOAALLL!!!"
Morris leaps from his seat. "Mignolet didn't even move! Manchester United lead 1-0! Anfield has been breached!"
The away end explodes in celebration. Fans chant Giggs' name, embracing in the stands.
On the touchline, Tiger King raises his left arm, index finger pointing skyward. A roar of triumph escapes him—pressure relieved.
United players swarm Giggs, celebrating with their captain. Giggs, still beaming, sprints toward the sidelines and hugs Tiger King. "Boss, we're ahead!"
Van Persie and Vidic soon join them. Morris, still ecstatic, shouts: "The defense was by Vidic, the assist from Van Persie, the goal from Giggs. Who said they were too old?!
Tiger King grins. "One is not enough! More goals!"
"Got it, boss! We won't disappoint!"
Giggs, Van Persie, and Vidic begin walking back—but in an unexpected manner. Giggs, arms draped over their shoulders, limps dramatically. Van Persie and Vidic stagger beside him, mimicking the walk of elderly men using imaginary canes.
Then, in perfect sync, they high-five and sprint back into position, grinning.
The crowd bursts into laughter. Even Tiger King doubles over, holding onto Scholes. "These guys have a talent for acting!"
"Hahaha!" Morris cackles in the commentary booth.
Raman looks puzzled. "The match is still early. Why are you laughing so much?"
Morris wipes tears of laughter away. "Raman, don't you get it? People doubted them. They said these veterans were too old. But look— Vidic's defense, Van Persie's assist, Giggs' goal. And now, their celebration mocks those doubts!"
The realization dawns on fans worldwide.
"Hahaha! Ryan, you legend!"
"Prove them wrong, Giggs!"
"Still the best in the Premier League!"
The chants grow louder, reverberating through Anfield. Tiger King waves at the crowd, urging them on.
"Even if you're over a hundred years combined," he muses, "you three are still my most trusted warriors. And still Manchester United's biggest hope for the treble!"