Javi García finished his warm-up in a hurry and jogged onto the pitch in a City shirt, ready to replace the injured Yaya Touré and plug the hole in midfield.
But everyone knew Yaya Touré couldn't simply be replaced.
He was City's midfield hinge—the man who broke up attacks, dictated tempo, and still found time to surge forward himself.
Javi García had shown real talent once, back at Real Madrid.
But next to Yaya Touré, he wasn't in the same class.
Sure enough—almost as soon as he came on, the gulf between Javi García and Yaya Touré was laid bare.
City's midfield had already been struggling. Now, with Touré off the pitch, it was falling apart.
Whether it was carrying the ball, dictating the tempo, or breaking up play, Javi García fell well short of Touré's composure and know-how.
Minute 29.
Javi García made a mistake in midfield.
He received a pass from Kompany but couldn't quite bring it under control, and Kanté closed him down before he could recover. Caught off guard, García stumbled.
The ball was gone.
Kanté won it clean and, without a moment's hesitation, slid it straight to De Bruyne.
De Bruyne wasted no time. He drove forward at once.
In an instant, he'd split City's midfield wide open.
City tucked in to cover, so De Bruyne slipped the ball out to Robertson, who was already breaking down the left.
Robertson tore down the flank, shook off Zabaleta, and whipped in a cross. Suárez rose at the back post to meet it, but the header drifted just wide—Liverpool had come agonizingly close to doubling their lead.
City's midfield was losing its grip by the minute.
Fernandinho was fighting a lone battle, trying to cover for García's shortcomings, but he simply couldn't do it alone.
García wasn't just struggling to keep the ball, his tackling was miles off the pace too.
His patch of the pitch kept getting torn open, forcing him into desperate scrambles back, and more than once he completely lost his man.
Liverpool, by contrast, had their midfield working like a well-oiled machine.
Kanté anchored the back, breaking up everything that came through; Gerrard set the tempo and orchestrated the whole team; De Bruyne drifted and linked with the attack. Together, the three of them formed a wall City simply couldn't get past.
David Silva was more or less the only bright spot in City's midfield.
Gifted on the ball, silky with his feet, he kept trying to drag the team forward through sheer individual quality, trying to shake off Liverpool's midfield press.
In the 31st minute, Silva picked up a hurried pass from García in midfield. Facing down Kanté's challenge, he shifted the ball this way and that, slipped past him neatly, and tried to carry it forward.
But Gerrard and De Bruyne sandwiched him from both sides and stripped the ball clean off his feet.
Silva watched the ball go and chased back after it, but it was already gone, moved on elsewhere. He shook his head, looking helpless.
It was turning into a frustrating night for him.
However good he was individually; he couldn't take on Liverpool's whole midfield—a unit that defended as well as it attacked—on his own. Isolated, all he could do was watch his team get dragged further and further onto the back foot.
Liverpool's attacks kept coming, wave after wave, giving City no room to breathe.
Left-back Robertson and right-back Piszczek kept bombing forward, becoming key outlets for the attack, and their constant overlapping runs only stretched City's defence further.
Minute 32.
Robertson linked up with De Bruyne for a quick one-two, ghosting past Zabaleta down the left again, straight to the byline.
It was the same routine as ever—a cross whipped in.
This time—Julien timed his run into the box effortlessly. With Fernandinho almost hanging off him, he twisted round to the near post and somehow got a shot away, awkward as it looked.
His body turned side-on to goal, right foot was half-flicking, half-toe-poking at it.
And yet the strike was dangerous. Genuinely dangerous.
The ball flew at goal.
Joe Hart threw himself across, getting the faintest touch to turn it away.
Gerrard followed up to try to bury the rebound, but Kompany had already got there first, cutting him off before he could reach the ball.
Hart, up quickly after the save, scooped it into his arms.
A groan rippled around Anfield.
Even though City had survived that attack, their defence was in disarray.
The back line looked shell-shocked under Liverpool's non-stop pressure.
As the defensive anchor, Kompany kept roaring instructions, but there was little he could do to ease the pressure caused by the chaos in midfield.
Midfield is like a spine.
If the spine's not strong, how do you even play?
García was clearly trying his hardest, but he still looked like a man running himself into the ground just to keep up.
Meanwhile Nasri, who'd been jeered by the Liverpool crowd every time he touched the ball, was still nowhere near his best.
He could barely get on the ball in the final third, and even when a pass did find him, Liverpool's pressing forced him to give it up almost immediately.
He'd drifted completely out of the game, contributing nothing going forward, and his failure to track back had opened up gaps at the other end more than once.
Minute 34.
Liverpool attacked again.
This time the play swung to the right.
Piszczek surged down the flank and, marked by Jesús Navas, barely found half a yard of space.
Without hesitation, he slid a diagonal ball inside to De Bruyne.
De Bruyne took it in run and clipped it out to the left, where Robertson had overlapped again.
Another cross from Robertson!
Klopp had given him one job: link with the front three, and cross whenever the chance came.
And he was doing it well.
The ball came in, and Julien and Suárez both attacked it from the box in a double threat.
Kompany just about got there and powered the ball out of the box.
But as it fell, Nasri went to control it—only for Gerrard to beat him to it and steal it away.
Gerrard took a touch to set himself.
Then let it fly from distance!
Boom!
The ball screamed toward goal, full of venom.
But Hart was stimulated tonight—he seemed to be reading everything. He reacted in a flash, flung himself full length, and pushed it over the bar with one hand.
Another Liverpool chance got snuffed out.
Hart roared after the save, letting out all his frustration.
Kompany ran over, slapping his palm and shouting with him.
Everyone was carrying some frustration from being pinned back like this the whole game.
This was their release.
After all in this stretch of barely eight minutes, Liverpool had launched five dangerous chances.
Every single one carried a real threat. City could only defend, on the back foot the whole time, looking increasingly ragged.
García kept making mistakes, not only failing to fill the void Touré had left, but was actively becoming a liability for his team.
City's midfield was a paper wall. It couldn't organize a single strong attack.
The only thing keeping them alive was the odd flash of individual brilliance from David Silva, sparking the occasional half-chance.
But those, too, were quickly snuffed out by Liverpool's midfield.
On the touchline, Pellegrini watched it all unfold, his face was growing darker by the minute. He folded his arms and began, pacing back and forth with eyes full of worry.
He was racking his brain for an answer.
The situation had already spiralled out of control. García simply couldn't take charge of the midfield, and Silva was left fighting alone.
What do I do here?
Pellegrini ran through his bench in his head.
Who else was there?
Milner?
On Liverpool's side, Klopp had it easier by comparison.
Though his expression was hardly relaxed either.
His worry was different: why hadn't they scored more?
The team's build-up play was clicking. It was just that final touch missing all night.
Watching the scene unfold, Martin Tyler couldn't help but comment: "The gap in midfield since Yaya Touré went off is glaring. Javi García is nowhere near Touré's level—he simply can't control this game, and City's midfield has completely fallen apart
De Bruyne, Kanté, and Gerrard are working beautifully together—they are solid defensively and also sharp going forward.
And just look at Liverpool's continuous attacks. Robertson down the left, Piszczek down the right, both are getting forward again and again. City's back line is on the verge of caving in. It's getting really ugly for them."
After a pause, Tyler added, "Sometimes a single transfer really can transform a player's whole career—just look at Kevin De Bruyne. He couldn't even get a game at Chelsea, and now, in barely any time at all, he's become one of the pillars of this Liverpool midfield.
The way he links up with Gerrard and Kanté—it's just about perfect..."
Just as Tyler was finishing that thought—
On the pitch. the match reached the 35th minute, and Liverpool launched another attack.
Gerrard threaded a ball straight through to the advancing Julien, who drove forward with it, dragging Kompany and Demichelis out of position.
Then he laid it off cleverly to the onrushing De Bruyne, who let fly from range!
The ball whipped just wide of the post, and Liverpool once again failed to extend their lead. It was so close.
Even so, City's situation was spiralling fast: midfield in chaos, defence in tatters, completely at Liverpool's mercy, unable to build any attacks of their own, and under siege at the back time and time again.
If not for Hart's heroics, the scoreline would already have blown out.
Everyone could see it—Yaya Touré's injury had become another turning point in this title-deciding clash.
When De Bruyne's shot drifted just wide in the 35th minute, the rhythm of the game didn't change one bit.
Liverpool kept probing, kept hunting for the breakthrough.
City, meanwhile, kept grinding through their defence, waiting for any sliver of a chance to counter.
Three minutes later.
After combining with Julien down the left, Robertson surged forward again and went all the way to the byline.
He glanced infield.
It looked like he was setting up for a cross and the look alone was enough to fool Zabaleta.
Zabaleta, expecting another cross like all the ones before, shifted his weight to try to block it.
Robertson cut inside instead!
The sudden change of direction caught Zabaleta completely flat-footed.
But once Robertson cut inside, he seemed unsure what to do with it.
He wanted to shoot, but lacked the confidence. He wanted to pass, but couldn't find a teammate in time.
He hesitated.
And the pocket of space he'd created closed up in an instant.
"Hey!"
De Bruyne called out and waved for it, and Robertson quickly sent the ball back to him.
A golden chance was gone just like that.
On the touchline, Klopp shook his head slightly at the sight. Robertson still had a few things to learn. Still, the lad worked hard.
That was enough for now.
Klopp believed he could get the rest out of him in time.
On the pitch, De Bruyne was on the ball, combined with Gerrard and the dropping Julien in a slick bit of interplay.
The three of them kept swapping positions and pinging the ball around, dragging City's defenders all over the place.
As the movement deepened, City's back line slowly came apart at the seams.
Kompany and Demichelis were forced to keep switching positions, trying to plug the gaps.
Then—De Bruyne spotted his opening. Seizing on City's lapse in concentration, he threaded a ball straight through!
Right into the path of Suárez, breaking into the box.
The crowd gasped.
The pass had come completely out of nowhere.
City's players clearly hadn't seen it coming either.
By the time Suárez collected it, he'd already lost his marker. Kompany was left scrambling to cover, and it was almost a one-on-one.
With Hart rushing out to close him down, Suárez didn't hesitate for a second—he drilled a low shot!
Boom!
The ball raced straight for the bottom-left corner!
Hart was simply inspired tonight. Once again, he showed why he's a world-class keeper—reacting in an instant, throwing himself sideways, palming the ball away with one hand.
Even so, getting a touch on it was the absolute limit of what he could do—there was no way to control where it went.
Hart's save didn't send the ball clear of the box. Instead, it spilled back toward the centre.
And right at that moment, Julien was already arriving!
With the goal net wide in front of him, he didn't waste the chance—he slotted it home first time.
The ball nestled cleanly into the net!
Hart had no chance of making a second save.
Goal!
2–0!
BOOM!
The instant the ball hit the net; Anfield erupted in a deafening roar.
This celebration was even louder, even wilder, than the one for Suárez's opener.
Julien, having just scored, let all his emotion pour out at once. He threw his arms wide and sprinted straight for the Kop!
His face lit up with pure joy.
The Kop went absolutely wild in response, boiling over like oil hitting water, waving frantically, chanting his name.
"Julien!"
"Julien!!"
Suárez, Gerrard, De Bruyne, and the rest came sprinting over, wrapping Julien up in a huddle, the whole team was celebrating this crucial goal together.
Robertson and Piszczek came flying in from the flanks to join the pile-on.
The players began high-fiving, hugging, shouting and soaking in every last second of the goal.
City's players, by contrast, were utterly deflated.
They hadn't even held out until half-time.
On the touchline, Klopp leapt to his feet, pumped his fist and roared with passion, letting every bit of emotion out.
A 2–0 lead meant Liverpool now had firm control of this title-deciding clash—one giant step closer to the Premier League trophy.
A short distance away, Pellegrini's face had turned ashen.
His mind was racing through every possible change, but he couldn't bring himself to commit to one.
And yet, Reality wasn't going to let him keep hesitating.
Watching Liverpool's players celebrate, Pellegrini made up his mind: it was time for a midfield change.
Javi García couldn't come off—not now.
If the midfield was out of control, the answer was to reinforce it further.
There was nothing else for it—off came Navas, who'd barely had a look-in all half, and on came Milner, a player who could at least run all day.
Pellegrini watched Anfield roaring around him.
And silently prayed things would look different in the second half.
________________________________________________________
Check out my paatreon where you can read more chapters:
paatreon.com/LorianFiction
Thanks for your support!