In the Stoke City locker room, head coach Cort was absolutely losing his mind.
He spent the entire fifteen-minute halftime interval screaming until his vocal cords bled.
He kicked over a tactical board, threw water bottles at the wall and gave his starting eleven a brutally humiliating dressing-down.
Being completely dismantled 3-0 on their own turf by the worst team in the league was a disgrace.
"I don't care if you have to break your own legs out there!" Cort roared, his face purple. "You go out there and you launch an all-out assault! You win this fucking match, or don't bother getting back on the bus!"
...
When the second half kicked off, Stoke City came out playing like rabid dogs.
Aston Villa, however, was exceptionally well-prepared for the onslaught.
Following Coach Charles's halftime instructions, all eleven Villa players instantly dropped deep into their own half, parking the bus.
Their objective was crystal clear: survive.
Defend the three-goal lead until the final whistle.
But Stoke's offense was violently physical. For the first ten minutes, they relentlessly spammed crosses from the wings, completely bypassing the midfield. They pinned all their hopes on their 193cm giant, Mario.
Every time a Stoke player touched the ball, they immediately hoisted it into the penalty area.
Mario was an absolute menace in the air, using his massive body to bully the Villa center-backs and create several terrifying chances.
Villa's defense was hanging by a thread.
Realizing that crosses alone weren't breaking the deadlock, Cort made an aggressive tactical adjustment. He made a triple substitution, throwing on two fresh forwards and an attacking midfielder.
Cort's intention was clear: he was going all in.
In the 58th minute, Stoke nearly shattered the defense. A Stoke winger bullied his way past the Villa full-back and whipped a vicious, low cross right into the danger zone.
It was a golden opportunity. But in their desperation to score, two Stoke forwards blindly lunged for the exact same ball.
Crunch.
They collided heavily in mid-air, wiping each other out.
The ball skipped harmlessly out of bounds as Aston Villa had dodged a massive bullet.
On the touchline, Coach Charles was sweating bullets.
He knew his boys couldn't withstand this kind of suffocating pressure forever. If Stoke kept battering the door like this, it was going to break.
Charles frantically subbed on two defensive players to reinforce the backline, but the effect was minimal.
Stoke City was smelling blood, and wave after wave of storm-like attacks continued to crash against Villa's penalty box.
Finally, in the 71st minute, the dam broke.
Stoke won a corner. Their number 8 whipped a brilliant in-swinging delivery toward the near post.
Perfectly positioned Mario fought off two Villa defenders and launched his massive body into the air.
Smack.
He met the ball with a thunderous header, sending it flashing past the keeper like lightning.
3-1.
Stoke City had life!
The stadium erupted, and the goal injected pure adrenaline into the Stoke players. With twenty minutes left on the clock, they pushed their entire squad forward, launching a frantic all-out siege on the Villa goal.
Aston Villa was completely suffocated.
Aside from Terr who was left isolated up top, every single Villa player was packed into their own penalty area, frantically clearing the ball.
But the defense was cracking.
Holes were opening up, and Stoke was finding dangerous shooting opportunities from the edge of the box.
75th minute. Another Stoke attack.
Stoke's number 8 received the ball in the midfield and took a heavy touch, preparing to drive a deadly pass through the fractured Villa defense.
Suddenly, a shadow eclipsed his vision.
Theodore Bjorn.
With a perfectly timed sliding challenge, Theodore hooked his right foot around the ball, cleanly sweeping it away from the Stoke midfielder.
At this critical, life-or-death moment, Theodore activated his absolute beast mode.
Relying on his untouched stamina reserves and his 74 tackling attribute, he transformed into a one-man midfield destroyer. He sprinted frantically across the pitch, plugging every hole.
Wherever a Stoke player thought they had space, Theodore appeared, disrupting passes, throwing his body into tackles and utterly destroying their rhythm.
In the 80th minute, he drove the final dagger in.
Stoke's number 8, exhausted and frustrated, received the ball again.
He was tall, strong, but undeniably slow on the turn.
Theodore didn't hesitate.
He launched himself forward like a heat-seeking missile, violently pressing the midfielder before he could even pick his head up.
Caught completely off guard, the Stoke player panicked.
Theodore legally shoulder-barged him off the ball, successfully completing the interception.
'Counterattack.'
The second Theodore controlled the ball, Terr, who had been lurking lazily on the halfway line, exploded forward.
Xabi Alonso's 84-rated vision kicked in instantly and Theodore saw the run perfectly.
Boom!
His right foot lashed out. The ball spun fiercely, tracing a curving trajectory over the completely exposed Stoke defense and dropping perfectly into the penalty area.
Terr brought it down flawlessly.
Glancing up at the desperately rushing goalkeeper, he didn't hesitate and shot the ball.
But the Stoke keeper was quick. He threw his body completely on the line, making a heroic point-blank save just as the ball left Terr's boot!
A collective groan echoed from the Villa bench—until they saw where the rebound went.
The keeper hadn't pushed it wide.
The ball bounced awkwardly near the penalty spot, right into the path of a sprinting, screaming Kac.
Theodore's roommate didn't take a touch.
He put his entire soul into his right boot and smashed the rebound.
Smash!
The ball flew like a bullet, nearly tearing the netting off the frame.
4-1!!
The game was over.
Any remaining hope Stoke City had was instantly annihilated. In the final ten minutes, their morale completely dissolved into dust.
They couldn't string two passes together, let alone threaten the Villa goal.
When the referee finally blew the final whistle, the away side erupted.
Powered by Theodore Bjorn's masterclass hat-trick of assists, the dead-last Aston Villa U17 had humiliated the 8th-place Potters 4-1.
Before Theodore could even catch his breath, he was swarmed.
His teammates rushed him, tackling him, screaming, and enthusiastically ruffling his sweat-soaked hair.
After an agonizing losing streak, they had just secured back-to-back, dominant victories!
As the boys finally peeled off to celebrate with the coaching staff, Theodore stood up and wiped the sweat from his eyes.
Standing just a few feet away, waiting for him, was John Terry.