Theodore wasn't just doing the dirty work in defense, he was dictating the attack.
By the 72nd minute, Theodore, Grealish, and Hourihane were weaving a web of rapid one-touch passes in the midfield, slicing Derby County's defensive shape to ribbons.
Acting as the maestro, Theodore gave a subtle flick of his ankle.
The ball chipped smoothly over Mount's head, floating dangerously toward the penalty spot.
Tammy Abraham had already muscled into position.
Theodore's delivery was, as always, pinpoint.
It dropped perfectly toward Abraham's head.
But this time, Derby's center-back pairing of Curtis Davies and Fikayo Tomori were ready, aggressively sandwiching the striker.
"All three men are up!" Weaver barked over the broadcast.
"Abraham, Davies, and Tomori! Abraham gets there first... but he puts it wide! He misses the target again! Aston Villa squander a golden opportunity to take the lead!"
"Theodore Bjorn's ball from the midfield was pure class," Goodman added in disbelief. "It's a shame Abraham left his shooting boots in the dressing room today."
The clock relentlessly ticked toward the 80th minute, the score stubbornly locked at 2-2.
Legs were heavy, and lungs were burning.
Players from both sides were bent double, gasping for breath on the turf.
It was going to come down to who wanted it more—who was willing to bleed for the badge in these final ten minutes.
In the frozen stands of Villa Park, over 40,000 fans erupted into a spontaneous, deafening chant of Theodore's name.
They knew that in these grueling, dying minutes, a star had to drag them over the finish line.
Even though it was only his seventh appearance in a Villa shirt, his sheer class had the entire stadium eating out of the palm of his hand.
Hearing the hysterical roar, Theodore refused to just sit back.
In the 85th minute, Theodore picked up the ball in the center of the park.
Before he could even look up, Mount and George Evans swarmed him, trying to choke out his space.
Theodore calmly prodded the ball a step ahead, keeping it just out of their reach.
Then, he showed his grit. He dropped his shoulder and drove hard into Mason Mount.
It was a brutal mismatch.
Mount was a magician with the ball, but his physicality was lacking. The moment Theodore's shoulder smashed into him, the young Chelsea loanee went flying, losing his balance and landing hard on the turf.
As Evans came sliding in recklessly to finish the job, Theodore didn't even flinch.
He chopped the ball back to his right foot, skipping over Evans's wild challenge and slipped a neat pass to an unmarked Jack Grealish.
"A golden opportunity here!" the Championship official commentator roared, the excitement bleeding into his voice.
"Top of the area, Grealish has it! He winds up for the shot... wait, no! It's a dummy! Facing the onrushing Davies, Grealish slips it back to Theodore Bjorn! These two are making a mockery of the Derby defense tonight!"
Theodore collected the ball wide on the right—his hunting ground.
Inside the box, three claret and blue shirts were screaming for service: El Ghazi at the near post, Adomah at the far and Tammy Abraham lingering dangerously in the center.
Without hesitating, Theodore whipped a vicious, curling cross straight into the heart of the box.
He was putting his faith in Abraham one more time.
The Villa striker and Derby's captain, launched themselves into the air for a brutal aerial duel.
This time, Abraham wasn't going to be denied.
Using his raw athleticism, he outmuscled Davies, hung in the air for what felt like an eternity, and buried a thumping header past the keeper.
Thwack.
The net rippled!
Villa Park descended into pure chaos.
Grown men were tearing off their jackets in the freezing cold, swinging them over their heads, screaming themselves hoarse.
Online, international fan forums and live stream chats were blowing up.
"A goal and two assists! Are you fucking kidding me? Theo is unplayable!"
"I said it before! Just give the damn ball to Theo and get out of his way!"
"Derby can have Mount. We've got the Norwegian king."
"Don't sit back now! 3-2 isn't safe! Step on their fucking throats and score another!"
Down on the touchlines, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Frank Lampard and Aston Villa assistant coach John Terry—former Chelsea teammates turned bitter rivals for the night—were barking orders, veins popping in their necks.
It was 3-2.
With five minutes of regulation and a chunk of stoppage time still to play, there was more than enough time for another twist.
"Push the fuck up!" Lampard screamed, frantically waving his arms. "Press them! Charge! Get the damn ball to Mount!"
Lampard's desperation was obvious.
Within moments, the ball was funneled back to the young loanee's feet.
Derby County surged forward for another attack.
But the second Mount took his first touch in the midfield, a swarm of claret and blue shirts collapsed around him.
...
It's worth mentioning that among the players swarming Mount this time was Theodore Bjorn.
In previous clashes tonight, Theodore had made a habit of shutting down Mount's passing lanes.
Seeing Theodore charging at him, Mount felt a spike of genuine panic.
His first instinct was to get rid of the ball.
Glancing toward the penalty area, Mount swung his boot, aiming to feed Marriott up top.
But just as Mount's right foot was about to make contact, Theodore's boot arrived first.
They met the ball almost simultaneously, but Theodore made sure to bring the physical contact.
He knew exactly where his advantage lay.
"Theodore Bjorn flattens Mount!" Weaver screamed over the broadcast.
"He's sent the lad flying! What raw physical dominance!"
Goodman was stunned.
Even though Theodore had bullied Mount earlier, watching the Chelsea loanee get rag-dolled again was shocking.
In the stands, the Villa faithful watched their midfield enforcer with fierce approval.
Theodore scooped up the loose ball. Instead of looking for a quick out-ball, he put his head down and drove forward.
With Mount in the dirt, a massive pocket of space opened up.
Tammy Abraham wasn't in a great position yet, so Theodore took the initiative and carried the attack himself.
Seeing the teenager surge forward, Derby's George Evans and Duane Holmes scrambled to close him down.
They couldn't afford a single mistake—not against a kid who already had a goal and two assists to his name tonight.
If Theodore reached the final third, Derby was fucked.
On the touchline, Frank Lampard was losing his mind.
His nerves were shot.
For Villa, a fourth goal would kill the game dead.
Facing the double-team from the Derby midfielders, Theodore stayed ice-cold.
He spotted Abraham peeling off the shoulders of Derby's center-backs. Far-side full-back Ashley Cole was keeping the striker onside.
Thwack.
Theodore didn't hesitate. Another trademark, pinpoint long pass over the top.
But this time, Abraham choked.
He got into the right position but froze, caught in two minds whether to take it on the volley or go for a header.
That split-second of hesitation was fatal.
Derby's veteran keeper, Scott Carson, charged off his line and smothered the ball before Abraham could even swing his boot.
"Carson with a massive intervention!" Weaver shouted. "He keeps Derby alive! A monumental save to deny Abraham a certain goal!"
"What a waste," Goodman chimed in. "Abraham has thrown away another golden delivery from Theodore Bjorn."
Online, the extreme sections of the fanbase were tearing the striker to shreds.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! What is Tammy doing?!"
"Just shoot the damn ball! Is he contemplating the meaning of life out there?!"
"Trash! If we had a clinical striker, Villa would be up by five!"
"That's the third sitter he's wasted tonight!"
"How is this guy leading the Championship scoring charts? Just proves how lethal Theo's service is!"
In the stands, the Villa faithful groaned in unison.
That should have been the dagger.
Down on the pitch, Lampard was suddenly buzzing.
Surviving a scare like that meant it was time to strike back.
Carson didn't waste a second, launching a booming drop-kick up the field to launch a counter.
The ball dropped toward the red-hot Marriott.
Under immense pressure, Villa's Tommy Elphick and Conor Hourihane challenged the striker in the air. Elphick won the header, but the clearance was weak.
It dropped right to the edge of the penalty area.
Right into the path of Mason Mount.
The young star didn't take a touch. He didn't need one. He unleashed a venomous, first-time volley.
Boom.
The ball rocketed into the corner of the net before Jed Steer could even blink.
"Three-three! Derby County equalize!" Weaver roared into the mic.
"Mason Mount with a world-class strike! He gives the keeper no chance!"
"Magnificent football!" Goodman added, his voice strained with tension. "This is without a doubt the most thrilling Championship match of the season! The 21-year-old has run the show since coming off the bench. A goal and two assists for Mount, matching Theodore Bjorn blow for blow!"
"That volley was pure perfection," Weaver concluded. "The power, the technique—Mason Mount is showing exactly why he's destined for the top level."
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