Just as Gary Weaver finished speaking, Theodore made his move.
He didn't hesitate, launching a sweeping, first-time long ball.
Birmingham's other defensive midfielder, Maikel Kieftenbeld, lunged in a fraction of a second too late. But the Dutchman didn't pull out of the challenge. His studs caught Theodore high and hard on the right leg.
It was a nasty, cynical foul.
The referee put his whistle to his lips, but as he saw the flight of the ball, he threw his arms out—advantage!
The pass sailed beautifully over the heads of the two Birmingham center-backs, dropping perfectly into the path of Tammy Abraham
Inside the penalty area, Abraham found himself one-on-one with the keeper.
Lee Camp rushed off his line, desperate to close the angle.
Abraham didn't panic, he just opened his body and calmly slotted the ball into the far corner.
"ABRAHAAAAMMM!" Weaver roared into the microphone. "Aston Villa retake the lead!"
"And another assist from Theodore Bjorn! That is his third of the afternoon!" Don Goodman added, shaking his head in disbelief.
...
"Theo's passing is just out of this world."
"Give the kid the ball and he'll win you the game. Simple as that."
"I'm convinced. He is the real star of this team."
"This is what happens when you try to kick him off the park. He just punishes you with a killer pass!"
"Where are the Birmingham fans now? Awfully quiet at St. Andrew's!"
Down on the pitch, Abraham didn't run to the corner flag to do a flashy dance.
Instead, he jogged straight over to Theodore. He dropped to one knee and pretended to shine the teenager's boots—a classic striker's thank-you to his ultimate provider.
Since Theodore broke into the first team, he had been putting goals on a silver platter for Abraham, pushing him right to the top of the Championship scoring charts!
After the restart, Aston Villa had the momentum and full control of the bitter derby.
"Keep pushing! Don't sit back!" Dean Smith screamed from the touchline, waving his arms forward.
"Get another one!"
Smith wasn't going to park the bus. If his team could score four, he wasn't going to settle for three.
Besides, the Birmingham players had kicked his captain, Jack Grealish, out of the game and were actively trying to injure his 17-year-old star.
Smith wanted revenge.
He wanted to humiliate them in their own backyard.
Theodore felt the exact same way.
Despite the throbbing pain in his leg, he kept pressing high, hungry for more.
In the 76th minute, Aston Villa struck again.
Theodore drifted out to the flank to find space.
John McGinn fizzed a pass out to him and immediately kept running, charging hard toward the Birmingham penalty area to join the attack.
Inside the box, Abraham was already jostling with the center-backs, getting ready for the cross.
Conor Hourihane and Glenn Whelan had also crashed the box.
"Theodore Bjorn is on the ball again," Goodman noted on the broadcast. "He has three claret and blue shirts waiting in the middle. Which one is he going to pick?"
Theodore whipped his right foot through the ball. It flashed right past the desperate lunge of full-back Kristian Pedersen.
The defender had no time to block it, he could only turn and watch it fly.
But Theodore hadn't aimed for the crowded penalty area.
He aimed for the edge of the D.
The ball dropped perfectly right at the edge of the penalty arc, meeting the late run of John McGinn.
The Scottish international was known for his lethal long-range striking and he didn't even bother taking a touch.
"McGinn!" Weaver shouted. "He takes it on the volley!"
It was a strike of pure venom!
The ball blasted through Lee Camp's gloves and nearly tore the net off its hinges.
A world-class finish!
"GOALLLLL! Oh my word, what a strike from John McGinn!"
"Aston Villa extend their lead! Four to two!"
"And that is a staggering fourth assist for Theodore Bjorn today!"
McGinn was wildly ecstatic.
He sprinted toward the away end and dropped into a knee slide. In true McGinn fashion, his knees caught the dry turf halfway through, and he tumbled face-first into the grass.
His teammates didn't care, they piled on top of him in a chaotic celebration.
But Theodore didn't join the pile. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain in his leg was flaring up badly.
He limped heavily over to the touchline, gesturing for the physio to hit his ankle with some freezing spray.
Dean Smith walked over, his face etched with concern.
"How is it, Theo? Can you carry on?" Smith asked, putting a protective hand on the kid's shoulder. "If you can't push through, just sit down. We're two goals up now. There is no need for you to risk it."
Smith valued the teenager too much.
He genuinely believed Theodore was destined to be a world-class midfielder and he wasn't going to let a single derby ruin the boy's career.
Theodore gritted his teeth as the freezing spray numbed his bruised skin. "Don't worry, gaffer. I know my body."
He stood up, tested his weight on the leg, and turned back toward the pitch without looking back.
Standing in the press area near the tunnel, Sky Sports reporter Laura Woods watched the exchange closely.
Her face was tense with anxiety.
"Just hang in there for a little longer, Theo," Laura muttered to herself, glancing at the stadium clock.
"Only fifteen minutes left. Please don't get hurt again."
...
Down on the Birmingham City bench, Garry Monk looked at the scoreboard in despair. 4-2.
The scoreline had backed them into a corner, leaving them with no way out. They had to throw everything forward. But scanning his substitutes, Monk saw mostly defensive options.
The only true attacking spark was a raw, unproven 16-year-old academy kid.
Jude Bellingham.
"Jude! Get your gear off. You're going on for Maghoma!" Monk barked.
On the bench, young Bellingham froze, hardly believing his ears.
He never expected to be thrown into the fire of a crucial Second City Derby. At just 16, a heavy mix of pure adrenaline and raw nerves flooded through his chest.
He immediately jumped up, stripped off his training bib, and pulled on his blue jersey, his face a picture of intense emotion as he stood eagerly by the touchline.
Up in the gantry, Gary Weaver spotted the change. "In the 80th minute, the home side makes a desperate substitution. Garry Monk is actually sending on a young academy player. 16 years old Jude Bellingham is getting his chance! It's worth noting this is the teenager's very first appearance of the season. Can this kid create a miracle?"
On social media, the fans were baffled.
"16 years old? Is Monk seriously hoping a kid will save them?"
"What a mess of a sub. Does Monk think every teenager is going to play like Theodore Bjorn? Laughable."
"Look how skinny he is. Is he even ready for men's football?"
"Don't underestimate him. Bellingham is Birmingham's crown prince. He's a massive prospect for the future."