Chapter 174 – Unprecedented Sextuple Champions! The Most Thrilling Champions League Final in History!
"GOAL!!!"
"In the 39th minute, Džeko finds the net against Barcelona!"
"2–1!"
"Bayswater Chinese complete a stunning comeback!"
"A right-wing cross from Maicon, a knockdown header from Gareth Bale, and Džeko pokes it home from close range."
"Just moments ago, Bale had scored off a pass from Džeko—and now the Welsh winger has returned the favor!"
"The players from Bayswater Chinese are ecstatic!"
"For almost 40 minutes in this first half, they've had only about 30% possession. Barcelona have held a dominating grip on the ball."
"But when it comes to chance creation—especially dangerous attacking opportunities—Bayswater Chinese have matched them blow for blow."
"It's astonishing!"
"Before this match, everyone thought that against a team like Barça, Yang Cheng's only realistic approach would be to sit deep and wait to counter."
"But here at the Stadio Olimpico in Rome, Yang Cheng has gone completely against expectations. He's played proactive football—stepping up and going head-to-head with Barcelona."
"They conceded first, yes. But then they struck back with two goals—and now, the entire match has flipped on its head."
Bayswater Chinese's players raced toward the stands where their fans were gathered, celebrating the goal with them, basking in the chorus of cheers raining down from above.
All around the stadium, supporters chanted players' names.
On the other side, though, Barça fans had fallen into stunned silence.
They had been rowdy and confident just moments earlier.
"This match has completely overturned every preconceived notion."
"Before kickoff, the experts all predicted that Yang Cheng's team would push for an early goal, then drop back into a defensive shell to contain Barça's passing game."
"As for Barça? Everyone knows their tendency to start slow."
"But once the match began, it was Guardiola's side that pressed hard and fast to disguise their weakness—and they even struck the first blow."
"And Yang Cheng's team? Despite being hit early, they didn't fall back. They didn't retreat into a shell. They stood tall and exchanged blows with Barça at midfield."
"It was a gutsy call—and it's working brilliantly."
"Now we can see Barça's players still chasing referee Busacca, protesting that there was a foul on Messi during the goal buildup."
"But Busacca has clearly ruled that the goal stands."
"Replay confirms it—Messi's fall wasn't a foul."
"What's more clear is that Bayswater Chinese have opted for a far more aggressive defensive strategy, and it's having a visible impact on Barcelona."
"2–1!"
"The current situation is very unfavorable for Barcelona."
"With the first half nearing its end, Guardiola needs to adjust quickly if he wants to equalize."
"Meanwhile, for Bayswater Chinese, the top priority now is to stay composed and protect their lead."
"Perhaps Yang Cheng should consider adopting a more cautious approach."
"He still has Matuidi and Matić sitting on the bench—two capable defensive midfielders."
…
The first half ended with the score at 2–1.
In the final minutes before the break, neither side managed to create another breakthrough.
As Yang Cheng entered the dressing room, all the players lifted their heads to look at him.
It was clear—his outburst after the first goal had left them on edge.
Even though they had turned the match around, that early goal shouldn't have happened.
"Overall, our performance in the first half was solid."
That single line from Yang Cheng set the tone—and the players all let out a quiet breath of relief.
That meant the boss was in a relatively good mood.
But then came his next words—and their hearts climbed back into their throats.
"But there were still plenty of problems."
Yang Cheng didn't care about their expressions and went straight into analyzing the issues.
First, the players hadn't executed the tactical plan with enough conviction during the opening phase.
Especially when it came to physical challenges and one-on-one duels.
Bayswater Chinese weren't known for rough, scrappy play—but Yang Cheng had drilled them on this repeatedly during training and laid out the exact scenarios they needed to be prepared for.
If they wanted to win while staying on their feet, they had to get physical.
Otherwise, their only option was to fall back.
It was like Ferguson once said—"As long as you sit deep, you can beat Barça."
But even Ferguson had refused to play that way—and Yang Cheng had his own ambitions.
Aside from a lack of aggressiveness, another key issue was poor defensive coverage.
Yang Cheng pointed specifically to Messi's goal.
Rakitić and Yaya Touré clearly hadn't treated the moment with enough urgency.
They underestimated Messi.
"You need to understand who you're facing tonight—Messi, Iniesta, Eto'o, Henry, Xavi... one of the most talented teams this planet has ever seen!"
"I repeated this in pre-match talks so many times—burn it into your minds: even the smallest lapse, the smallest moment of laziness, can destroy everything!"
He turned around and slammed his palm against the tactics board.
The loud smack startled even Brian Kidd and the other assistants standing nearby.
"Messi's goal was the perfect example!"
No one in the room dared breathe.
They had all expected this.
The boss was clearly upset about that goal—they could feel it.
After all, they'd practiced that scenario over and over.
And it had still gone wrong.
"Ivan," Yang Cheng said, turning to Rakitić, "your challenge on Messi later—that was exactly how it should be. I want you to keep that same fire in the second half. Take him out of the game!"
"Don't let him get through your zone!"
Rakitić raised his head and nodded heavily. "I promise, boss!"
Yang Cheng was pleased with his response.
Sure, in my past life, you were Messi's number one bootlicker.
But now? You're playing for Bayswater Chinese. That means your job is to shut him down. Make sure he's finished.
After laying down the law, Yang Cheng softened his tone a little.
"Of course, I know you're not entirely to blame for that goal."
The atmosphere in the dressing room finally eased up.
Yang Cheng might have had a friendly relationship with his players, but when he got angry, everyone knew to listen.
After all, every player in that room had been handpicked, developed, and promoted by him.
That kind of authority didn't need to be explained. It had been earned over time.
Even other coaches couldn't match it.
"Messi is the most terrifying player in the world. In that moment, no one else could've slipped that pass through."
This was Yang Cheng's way of defending both Rakitić and Yaya Touré.
The two midfielders nodded in agreement.
Because they knew it was true.
They'd done everything they could. But even the smallest opening, and Messi had found it.
Even more outrageous was that Messi, after spotting the gap, still dared to dribble forward—and actually squeezed between two defenders to deliver a perfect through ball.
No one even knew how he managed it.
"This shows us something crucial—when defending against Barça, whether it's Messi, Iniesta, Eto'o, or anyone else, we have to stay 120% focused and perform better, sharper than ever!"
All the players nodded in agreement.
"In the second half, Barça will keep pressing for possession, so we need to use our kick-off to launch an early high-tempo attack—ideally to extend the lead."
"Defensively, continue what we did in the first half—press their attack, and strike decisively when a counterattack opportunity appears."
Yang Cheng reiterated that speed was the key to Bayswater Chinese's counterattacks.
Quick transitions through midfield, one-touch passes and sharp movement to rip open Barça's back line—that's what had produced both of their goals in the first half.
He also reminded everyone: when defending, apply pressure, increase the physicality, and watch each other's backs.
Only by defending as a unit could they disrupt Barça's passing rhythm and block their intricate build-up play.
"Guys!"
"This first-half lead—we're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We can retain our crown!"
Yang Cheng stepped into the middle of the locker room, his eyes burning as he swept his gaze over every player.
"We are just 45 minutes away from becoming legends!"
"For this moment, we've fought through an entire season. Some of us have waited years—even a decade—for this!"
"There's no reason to let go of that dream now. Right?!"
The players all stood up, nodding hard.
Their eyes glinted with resolve. Their fighting spirit burned brighter than ever.
"These last 45 minutes—we give it everything we've got. We bring that trophy back to London!"
"Let's go!!" Yang Cheng roared with all his might.
"Let's go, Bayswater Chinese!!" the players roared back in unison.
…
In the opening moments of the second half, it took Bayswater Chinese just two minutes to create the first threatening attack.
They pushed down the right flank.
Maicon and Di María combined along the sideline, making their way into Barça's final third. But Maicon couldn't get past Sylvinho, and when he tried to lay the ball off to Di María, Puyol came charging in and cleared it with a big boot toward the right touchline near midfield.
Pepe had already shifted over and reached the ball first, controlling it cleanly.
Henry came sprinting to press him, but Pepe calmly passed it across to the retreating Yaya Touré.
The Ivorian picked up the ball, spun forward, and charged ahead.
Like an enraged bull, he carried the ball directly into Barça's defensive shape.
But he had the strength, the balance, and the control to shield it and lay it off to Modrić.
Even after the pass, Yaya didn't stop—he kept charging forward.
Modrić had been ready to drop back and cover, but as soon as he received the ball, he instinctively passed it back to Yaya Touré.
By then, Yaya was already on the edge of the box, right of center.
Džeko was positioned at the top of the arc, waving for a lofted pass after seeing Yaya break through.
But Yaya didn't wait for Puyol to close in.
He unleashed a rocket from the edge of the box.
The ball screamed toward the top right corner of Barça's goal.
Valdés launched himself into a full-stretch dive and got a hand to it—tipping it out for a corner.
The stadium gasped.
Yaya clapped his hands in frustration.
Ahead of him, Džeko opened his arms wide: "Why didn't you pass?!"
Yaya just smiled, shook his head, and jogged back.
"Honestly, if he'd lofted that ball into the box, Džeko could've been a real threat," said the commentator. "But credit where it's due—Touré's solo charge was still impressive."
"This is it—Bayswater Chinese are finally showing their attacking teeth early in the second half!"
On the resulting corner, Pepe got his head to it—but it went just wide.
Still, after Yang Cheng's halftime firestorm, the players looked sharper and more determined.
Case in point: Barça's next attack.
When Iniesta carried the ball toward midfield, Modrić was already on him—sticking tight, grabbing, pulling, getting physical. He disrupted Iniesta's dribble before it even crossed the halfway line.
When Messi dropped back to collect, Yaya Touré stepped in as well—throwing his body into the challenge, arms extended, constantly jostling to avoid getting danced past.
Barça were forced to pass back and regroup.
Bayswater Chinese pressed forward again.
When the ball cycled back around and reached Xavi near the center circle, nearly a full minute had passed.
This time, Rakitić read the play, poked the ball free, and Yaya Touré scooped it up.
He spun away from Xavi with a clever Marseille turn and sent a looping long ball over the top.
But he rushed it.
Bale, Džeko, and Di María were all gearing up for runs, but the ball dropped directly into the box.
Valdés charged off his line and claimed it easily.
There was no real danger—but still, the fans applauded Yaya for the effort.
On the next play, Valdés threw the ball out quickly to Busquets, who sent it forward to Messi.
As Messi received the pass with his back to goal, Leighton Baines appeared out of nowhere, sliding in from behind.
Right as Messi turned, Baines tackled.
He didn't get the ball—but he took Messi down.
The Barça fans booed. Bayswater Chinese fans cheered wildly.
Busacca blew the whistle—foul, but no card.
Clean challenge. No studs. Just enough to trip Messi.
The ball stayed in Barça's half.
They restarted with a series of back passes, while Bayswater Chinese kept pressing forward.
"The second half has brought a very interesting shift," the commentator said.
"Barça still control possession, but they've been stuck in their own half for five minutes."
"They can't break through the halfway line."
"Bayswater Chinese have stacked layers of pressure right around midfield—it's suffocating."
"Barça are trying to pass through them, but they're getting stonewalled."
"There's space behind the defense, but Barça haven't found a way to exploit it."
"Maybe it's time for Guardiola to consider adding some direct passes into their game."
"After all, both Henry and Eto'o have exceptional pace."
…
This strange deadlock in the second half lasted until around the 55th minute.
Bayswater Chinese could no longer hold Barça down indefinitely.
In the 56th and 59th minutes, Barcelona managed to penetrate Bayswater's penalty area twice.
The first was Messi, who danced past several defenders and managed to get a shot off—but Thiago Silva had already closed the angle, and Messi's attempt, in trying too hard to curve it past Neuer, struck the side netting.
The second came from a long-range shot by Eto'o that sailed high.
After being suppressed for several minutes, Barça finally regained rhythm and started committing more players forward.
They were, after all, still trailing.
In the 62nd minute, after a series of patient passes, Xavi received the ball on the right side of the center circle and launched a mid-range pass to Eto'o up front.
The Cameroonian, under pressure from Pepe, didn't control it, instead playing a one-touch pass back to Iniesta.
Iniesta immediately forwarded it to Henry on the left.
Facing a recovering Maicon, Henry burst forward, cut inside, but was intercepted by Yaya Touré at the top of the box.
Forced to pass, Henry laid it across the arc to the right.
As Messi received it, Thiago Silva poked it away slightly—but Messi recovered, pivoted, and with a clever backheel, flicked it toward the right flank.
Dani Alves sprinted forward, collected the pass, and burst into the penalty area from the right.
Thiago Silva responded quickly, charging over to cut off Alves' route to goal.
Alves cut it back across the box—right to Messi again.
Now, Bayswater Chinese's defense was in disarray.
Pepe had rushed over to block Messi's shot angle, standing directly between him and the goal.
Henry and Eto'o were both free on the left side, only Maicon remained near the six-yard box.
Yaya Touré dropped into position beside Messi, trying to close off passing lanes to both Henry and Eto'o.
Messi had no option but to drag the ball back out of the box and cut across, looking to swing it back left to Henry.
But Maicon was ready—he stepped in, intercepted the pass before it could reach Henry, and pushed it clear.
Barça immediately launched into a counter-press.
Maicon, unfazed, passed to Modrić.
The Croatian midfielder controlled it, spun, and spotted a gap—before Busquets could close him down, he launched a long pass down the left wing.
And there was Gareth Bale.
Like a red blur, he charged through the channel at full tilt.
Dani Alves had just been caught upfield—the entire right side of Barça's defense was exposed.
Bale flew into the final third in seconds.
Piqué and Puyol sprinted back.
Puyol, dragging behind, stuck close to Bale, trying to contain him to the left side and deny him a clear shot.
Džeko was also charging up the middle, but slightly behind.
Piqué followed Džeko all the way, staying tight.
As Bale reached the edge of the box and saw no way past Puyol, he suddenly slammed on the brakes and cut inside.
Puyol reacted fast, clawing and tugging to keep Bale from slipping away.
Bale looked up, trying to spot Džeko arriving—he considered lofting a cross, but Puyol had cut off his left foot. His right wasn't ideal.
Then, just as Bale hesitated, a red figure darted into view.
And a familiar voice rang out.
"Gareth, right side!"
Without hesitation, Bale spun and sent a sharp low pass with his right foot across the box.
It skipped past both Piqué and Džeko, rolling cleanly into the right side of the penalty area.
Piqué immediately left Džeko and lunged after the ball.
But the Bosnian striker cut across the six-yard box, dragging defenders and opening space.
Di María, arriving at full speed, met the pass with a left-footed side-footed strike.
The ball zipped past Piqué and curled back across the goal, slotting perfectly into the bottom left corner.
Valdés didn't move. He couldn't.
3–1!
"GOAL!!!"
"DI MARÍA!!"
"At the crucial moment—the Angel has arrived!"
"What an absolutely pivotal goal!"
"In the 62nd minute, just as Barça were launching their counteroffensive, Bayswater Chinese struck back with a lightning counterattack and brilliant team coordination!"
"A sharp left-footed finish by Di María—3–1!"
"This counterattack from Bayswater Chinese was razor-sharp!"
"And I know I shouldn't say this—but honestly, in my eyes, this kind of blazing pass-and-move counterattack is far more thrilling than Barça's long possession play."
"This is the pinnacle of European football!"
"Barça have their precious possession—but Bayswater Chinese have the goals!"
"And right now, Barcelona are in serious trouble."
"There's still half an hour left—but they're down by two. They need to turn this around fast."
"And then there's Yang Cheng."
"Tonight, he's shown all of Europe's coaches that you don't have to park the bus to stop Barcelona."
"You can go blow-for-blow—and still beat them!"
…
After conceding the third goal, Guardiola made his first substitution of the match.
In the 65th minute, he brought on Pedro for Henry.
Now, Barça's front three consisted of Pedro, Eto'o, and Messi.
But with Messi drifting constantly into the right channel and even central midfield, he functioned more like a free role.
Just five minutes later, Guardiola made another change.
Seydou Keita came on for Eto'o.
The first change was understandable—Henry had been underwhelming.
The Frenchman's age and decline were showing.
But replacing Eto'o with Keita raised eyebrows.
Even more surprising was how the lineup shifted afterward.
Messi moved to the center, Pedro went to the right wing, and Iniesta was pushed up to left wing.
Barça's new midfield trio was Keita, Busquets, and Xavi.
And their new attacking trio: Iniesta, Messi, Pedro.
Messi dropped deep to link play, taking on a playmaker role.
Iniesta and Pedro were pushed higher on the flanks, closer to the forward line.
The formation was now fluid—almost ambiguous.
But only Yang Cheng saw the real danger.
Because the threat wasn't the formation.
It was Messi.
At this point in the match, there was only one way to stop him.
Foul him.
He had the speed, the dribbling, the individual skill—it was almost unstoppable.
So Yang Cheng quickly walked to the sideline, shouting instructions to his players, urging them to stay alert and focused.
He even called Modrić over specifically.
"Tell them: the moment Messi drops deep and starts to accelerate—foul him immediately!"
"Don't hesitate!"
But Bayswater Chinese still couldn't stop him.
In the 76th minute, they managed to temporarily contain Barcelona's midfield passing.
But then Messi dropped deeper than Busquets, received a pass from Piqué, turned, and executed a quick one-two with Busquets—then took off, head down, charging forward.
Before Rakitić could even close him down, Messi laid the ball off to Xavi and continued his run.
Xavi returned the pass instantly—a perfect one-two.
Messi received the ball again and immediately slipped past a closing Yaya Touré, dribbling straight toward the penalty area.
Now it was just him versus Thiago Silva and Pepe—and he didn't blink.
As Messi reached the top of the arc, he suddenly stopped, dragged the ball sideways with his left foot, just enough to create a shooting angle past Thiago Silva—then fired.
Silva, reacting instantly, flung himself sideways to block.
The shot deflected off his body and bounced left.
Pepe sprinted to clear—but Iniesta came streaking across, intercepting just outside the box.
Iniesta took one touch, glanced up, and played a sharp through ball.
At that moment, Messi—who had just shot moments ago—was already cutting diagonally into the left side of the box, slipping past Pepe and into the open space.
Neuer saw the danger and reacted immediately, rushing off his line.
But Messi was faster.
He reached the ball first and fired a low left-footed shot—right underneath Neuer and into the back of the net.
2–3.
"GOAL!!!!!!"
"MESSI!! MESSI!!"
"At a critical moment, Messi gives Barcelona hope!"
"2–3!"
"An incredible sequence of footwork, acceleration, and team interplay leads to a stunning goal from the Argentine star!"
"Barcelona are still alive!"
"This—without question—is one of the greatest Champions League finals in recent history, maybe even the greatest in decades!"
"Both teams have come to play—and neither has held back."
"Barça dominated possession, but Bayswater Chinese delivered razor-sharp attacking football."
"And now, with standout performances from the likes of Messi, Gareth Bale, Džeko—it's absolutely breathtaking!"
"This final is a masterpiece!"
"Just when we thought Bayswater Chinese had it in the bag, Messi pulls them back from the brink."
"It's not over yet!"
…
Yang Cheng stood on the sideline and let out a long exhale.
A bit helpless.
Both goals they had conceded—came **right after he had issued a warning.
Of course, he couldn't blame his players.
Because what Messi just did—there wasn't even time to foul him.
Human limits are real.
Just like how you can't beat Cristiano Ronaldo in the air when he's in full leap. Or how you sometimes just can't stop a dipping ball.
Yang Cheng didn't dwell. He made a decision immediately and shouted toward the bench:
"Walcott!"
The Little Tiger had already finished warming up. He was just waiting.
Hearing his name, he sprang to his feet, peeling off his warmup jacket, sprinting over.
"Go on. You're replacing Rakitić. Di María will drop into Rakitić's spot."
"Got it!"
"And tell the others—we need to create one more goal."
"Work with Modrić and Bale. Combine. Make it happen."
"Understood!"
"Also, we haven't given Džeko enough high balls today. Think about that—look for it."
"Okay!"
"Go. I'm waiting for your show."
Yang Cheng patted Walcott's back, and the young winger ran to the sideline.
A minute later, during a stoppage, Walcott replaced Rakitić.
Yang Cheng met the Croatian on his way out, hugged him, praised his effort.
Rakitić didn't head to the locker room—he sat straight on the bench to watch the rest.
…
"Bayswater Chinese making a substitution now."
"A huge roar from the crowd as Walcott enters the pitch."
"The Little Tiger netted a hat trick in the FA Cup Final just three days ago—he was sensational."
"And it's clear—Yang Cheng still wants another goal."
"At this point, both teams are physically exhausted."
"Barcelona can no longer maintain the same pressing tempo they had in the first half."
"So this change was likely a part of Yang Cheng's long-term plan—bring in Walcott to strike against a weakened Barça defense."
"And don't forget—Walcott isn't just speed."
Walcott made an immediate impact.
He got the ball on the right, blew past Sylvinho with a single touch, cut inside toward the top of the box.
With a flurry of feints and sudden changes of pace, he weaved his way to the right edge of the arc, then released a clever diagonal pass with his left foot.
Gareth Bale, already in motion, fired from the left edge of the penalty area.
It was powerful—but too central.
Valdés punched it away.
The crowd erupted in applause for the move.
Yang Cheng didn't stop there.
He made his second substitution: Matić for Yaya Touré.
If the first sub was meant to boost the attack, this one was too—just in a different way.
Touré had emptied the tank.
Now it was time for Matić to step in—not just to solidify the defense, but to unleash the full potential of the full-backs and free up Di María and Modrić to go forward.
Matić had joined the club in the summer of 2006.
Originally a No.10, an attacking midfielder.
But over three years, Yang Cheng had converted him into a deep-lying defensive midfielder—training him, nurturing him, and trusting him.
He wasn't as versatile as Touré, nor did he have that explosive, surging presence.
But what he did have was intelligence, timing, and distribution.
With Matić on the pitch, Bayswater Chinese resumed their pressure on Barça, creating even more chances.
Just when it looked like Barça might ride their momentum from Messi's goal to stage a full comeback—Bayswater Chinese unleashed wave after wave of relentless counterattacks.
Yang Cheng continued to rotate his squad with one clear intention: to press Barcelona relentlessly into their own half, right up to the final whistle.
And it wasn't just Yang Cheng who had that attitude—every Bayswater Chinese player on the pitch carried the same fire.
With both full-backs fully unleashed, Leighton Baines played steadily, but Maicon was electric, surging down the right flank like a dragon unleashed, linking up again and again with Walcott to launch wave after wave of attacks.
In the 87th minute, Maicon combined with Walcott on the right, trying to get to the byline and cross for Džeko.
The delivery wasn't great—Puyol cleared it at the near post and sent it flying out of the box.
But Modrić was waiting at the top right edge of the penalty area. He trapped it cleanly and immediately began organizing another wave.
The Croatian carried the ball forward, drawing both Busquets and Seydou Keita, before slipping a low pass across.
It zipped just past Busquets' foot.
Di María, hovering near the top-left corner of the arc, received it. He glanced up—both Gareth Bale and Džeko were signaling.
But Xavi had tracked back well, cutting off Bale's path.
That left Džeko.
Surely the Bosnian could handle Puyol one-on-one?
Without hesitation, Di María used his left foot to chip a soft, arcing ball over the defense.
It soared past Barça's backline and dropped toward the edge of the six-yard box.
Džeko surged forward, Puyol clinging to him, trying desperately to hold him back—but it was like a MINI Cooper trying to drag a full-sized SUV.
Džeko rose above everyone, met the ball squarely with his forehead, and sent it thundering toward goal.
The Bosnian target man had cleverly headed it into the ground.
Valdés reacted instinctively, diving to palm it away—but his hand met nothing but air.
The ball bounced beneath him and into the net.
"GOAL!!!!!!"
"87th minute!!"
"Džeko scores his second!!"
"My God—Džeko again! A towering header smashes Barça's net for the second time!"
"4–2!"
"Bayswater Chinese strike again!"
"SIX goals in this final—SIX!"
"What a spectacle!"
"I can't believe we're watching a match this brilliant—in a Champions League final!"
"This isn't just the best final in recent years—this might be the greatest I've ever seen!"
"If anyone dares say again that major finals are boring, I'm showing them this match—this is what greatness looks like!"
…
As Džeko's header rippled the net, the entire Stadio Olimpico exploded into a sea of red celebration.
If Barça still had a sliver of hope a moment ago, this goal crushed it completely.
Guardiola still had one substitution left.
But suddenly, he had no idea what to do with it.
Bojan? Gudjohnsen?
None of it would change anything now.
He had brought on Keita to strengthen the midfield, hoping to gain balance against Bayswater Chinese's fast-paced, physical play.
But after Keita came on, Barça's passing rhythm faltered.
With fatigue setting in, Bayswater Chinese poured on wave after wave of attacks in the closing stages.
Yang Cheng, the cunning fox, had abandoned the midfield battle—instead, he attacked down both flanks.
Especially the right.
Everyone knew that Barça's regular left-back was Abidal, but his red card in the semifinal against Arsenal ruled him out.
Guardiola had been concerned from the start that Sylvinho would be a liability on that left flank.
But as the match wore on, Bayswater Chinese hadn't shown obvious intent to isolate him—both flanks had been used evenly.
If anything, Maicon had simply been more active than Baines.
Guardiola never expected that, at the most decisive moment of the match, Maicon and Walcott would open up Barça's left flank like a ziplock bag.
He stared across the field, watching the Bayswater Chinese players celebrating wildly, his eyes fixed on Džeko.
Two goals.
The towering striker he admired most—had just destroyed Barça's dreams.
Inside, Guardiola was filled with bitterness and admiration.
He had always believed Džeko was the ideal striker for Barcelona's system—more suitable than the temperamental Ibrahimović.
And now… the man he admired had come back to bury him.
What a feeling.
…
When Džeko made it 4–2, the match was all but over.
As stoppage time approached, Yang Cheng used his final substitution.
Aaron Ramsey came on for captain Modrić.
It was a reward for the young Brit's impressive season.
A homegrown player, full of promise—Yang Cheng wanted to give him a taste of glory on the biggest stage.
After three minutes of added time, Italian referee Massimo Busacca blew the final whistle.
Barça's players collapsed in place.
Their treble dream was over.
But on the other side, Bayswater Chinese erupted.
Another treble.
And the Premier League's first-ever sextuple.
Yang Cheng stormed the field, eyes burning, fist raised—even the likes of Thiago Silva and Pepe couldn't hold him back.
"Let's congratulate Bayswater Chinese!"
"In this battle for the treble, it's the Premier League team that has the last laugh!"
"They are now the second English team in history to achieve the treble."
"And the first team in Champions League history to successfully defend the title in the modern era!"
"Absolutely historic!"
"Yang Cheng and his Bayswater Chinese have now won the Champions League two seasons in a row!"
"This young English team is now the most dominant club in Europe—without question."
"Of course, we must give credit to Barcelona as well."
"They may have fallen short of the treble, but their domestic double—La Liga and Copa del Rey—is still a magnificent achievement."
"And tonight, they helped deliver one of the greatest finals in Champions League history."
"I don't think any fan watching tonight will forget this match."
"Bayswater Chinese redefined their football tonight. They beat Barça not by sitting deep—but by going head-to-head, toe-to-toe—and winning."
"We must thank the young Yang Cheng and his fearless team."
"In a world where no one had the answers, they stood tall, defied convention, and beat Barcelona 4–2 with bravery, brilliance, and pure attacking football."
"This Champions League trophy, this treble, and this historic sextuple—belong to Yang Cheng and his players."
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