Chương 452: Leeds' Collapse: A 4-0 Nightmare
Millwall's second goal left the commentators speechless.
What a breathtaking few seconds! First Makélélé with a powerful strike from distance, then Larsson swooping in for the rebound, and finally Nedvěd swinging his foot at it with a clean volley—every move packed a punch! But just when you thought Millwall's push was finished, out of nowhere, Makélélé's initial shot ends up in the back of the net. Unbelievable!
"Uh…maybe Ferdinand is still reminiscing about his days playing for Millwall. At that moment, he must've seen familiar dark blue jerseys, seeing how hard Makelele, Larsson, and Nedved were trying to score, so he lent them a foot and helped it in. Officially, the goal's credited to Makelele, but the real MVP here is Ferdinand. Let's hope he remembers which team he's on now, or Leeds might be down by more than just 0-2."
Makelele, thrilled by his goal, sprinted toward the sidelines to celebrate. He taunted the home fans in the stands at Elland Road, especially those who'd once jeered at him. This was his moment to revel, to dance, to sing, to celebrate wildly over Leeds United's demise.
O'Leary held his head in his hands after the second goal, seemingly deep in thought.
Aldrich, on the other hand, stood with his hands on his hips, grinning.
He was genuinely happy.
This happiness was different. If he were up against a team that "parked the bus" and managed to break through, he'd be pleased but wouldn't feel as if his opponents brought this upon themselves. But Leeds United dared to go toe-to-toe, and Millwall had scored twice in under 20 minutes, which delighted Aldrich, perhaps due to the sheer foolishness of Leeds' self-destructive tactics.
As Leeds United resumed play, pushing forward aggressively, they quickly lost possession with a misplaced pass just past midfield. Neil intercepted before Smith could reach it. Leeds' attempt at a long ground pass to the forward line left ample space and time for the center-back to intercept, unless the forward actively retreated to receive, like Millwall's strikers, who were required to come back and couldn't just wait up front.
What a pity! Alan Smith—hailed as a "prodigy" by the Brits—never struck Aldrich as anything special. All this talk of him being some "die-hard warrior" doesn't exactly scream top-class striker. Sure, maybe a century ago that kind of tenacity defined English football, but if hard work alone could make you great nowadays, then the bar for success has really been set too low.
Neil intercepted and sent a diagonal pass to Schneider on the wing, who burst past Duff's defensive line. He passed horizontally to Pirlo, who, as usual, orchestrated from the center like an efficient conductor. Without hesitation, Pirlo swung a diagonal ball toward the left flank.
Pirlo's skill was rare in that he tailored passes to his teammates' preferences. Some players liked the ball at their feet; others preferred a pass to run onto, and Pirlo delivered accordingly, making them incredibly comfortable.
Ronaldinho received it with a perfectly timed run, cutting inside in stride, the ball rolling right into his path as he outmaneuvered the trailing Kelly. Without needing to slow down, he kept his pace and turned to face Ferdinand directly.
Ferdinand, laser-focused, saw Radabe marking Henry beside him. Between them, another player was advancing, and Ferdinand knew without looking who it was: Nedved.
He assumed Ronaldinho would pass to Nedved, aiming a through ball behind, so he slightly shifted his weight in that direction. Unexpectedly, Ronaldinho suddenly changed direction, effortlessly brushing past him.
As Ferdinand bit his nails and sprinted back to block, Ronaldinho suddenly stopped. The game's rhythm came to a sudden halt. Ferdinand stretched out his foot to intercept, but Ronaldinho gently nudged the ball toward the goal. It rolled smoothly between Ferdinand's legs and landed at Nedvěd's feet upfront. Even though the angle was almost impossible, Nedvěd had already drawn Radbe's defense away. Without hesitation, he passed the ball back to Henry, who was near the edge of the penalty box. Facing the goal, Henry took a powerful shot. The ball zipped into the net just a meter past Martin, who didn't even react. With the ball so close, who could have stopped it?
"Henry scores again! Millwall scores two goals in just one minute! Is Leeds United about to get wrecked? Minutes, minutes down three goals! They didn't even have a single shot on target!"
After scoring, Henry wanted to express his gratitude to Nedvěd, but the Czech player cleverly dodged him. Henry chased him down again, but Nedvěd slipped away once more, and the two engaged in a playful game of cat and mouse. Ronaldinho and Larsson soon joined in the pursuit of Nedvěd. Ultimately, it was Pirlo who came from behind and unexpectedly wrapped his arms around Nedvěd.
Ferdinand stood hands on hips, expressionless as he watched Millwall's players celebrate wildly in the distance.
He once wore the Millwall jersey and witnessed the club sweeping through England like an unstoppable force, thinking then that every opponent was easy prey. Now, he understood—he was prey too.
O'Leary, still without a viable solution, clapped his hands, trying to boost his players' morale. Tactical adjustments aside, he knew they couldn't let their spirits get crushed.
After the third goal, Aldrich remained outwardly calm.
He turned toward the bench, spreading his arms, his face adorned with a slightly flamboyant smile.
Then, he looked toward the stands of Elland Road.
The blank faces of the Leeds fans filled his view, and Aldrich silently mouthed an apology.
I'm sorry. Truly, I'm sorry!
At yesterday's press conference, I lied!
Do I love Leeds United?
Sorry, I couldn't care less what happens to Leeds United.
Gold or dust, it doesn't matter to me!
But now that Millwall is here, we'll keep smiling as we trample over Leeds' broken remains, riding high in our unstoppable form. We'll take down anyone in our way!
And yes, forgive my PR language.
I like to praise every opponent, no matter who they are. Even if it's empty flattery.
It's part of my coaching philosophy. Complimenting the opponent isn't about being a gentleman; it's selfish—it's to make my team's success look even brighter.
Even if Leeds were as weak as paper, I'd still dress you up with compliments. Because when my team beats you, the victory feels worthwhile. If I belittled you, what would be the point in winning?
So, to the White Rose of Yorkshire—you're really, truly, incredibly strong!
Three goals down in minutes. No matter how fierce their pre-match bravado, Leeds United's pride lay shattered to pieces.
Forget attacking—first, they need to figure out how to defend.
Aurely finally resorted to last season's strategy—defensive counterattacks.
At that moment, he seemed to wake up to reality, realizing that trying to play offensively against Millwall, hoping to suppress them with aggression, was nothing short of a fantasy.
Switching to defense was the only choice. Whether they could score on the counter didn't matter as much as stopping the bleeding.
Once Leeds United fell back and started to play defensively, Millwall took control of the game entirely.
Even though they lacked a dedicated defensive midfielder, Cahill and Bresciano effectively dropped back just before the backline, providing solid coverage.
Smith, the workhorse, gave his all in defense, making his presence felt and disrupting Millwall's rhythm.
But this came at the cost of his stamina and his primary role as a forward.
Duff and Kewell's attempts at creating chances on the wings were limited during counterattacks, with most midfielders pushed back. Smith alone couldn't break through, and Leeds' counters often ended with a winger dribbling forward only to lose the ball or find no one to pass to, resulting in handing possession back to Millwall without even attempting a shot.
Bowyer, touted as a genius midfielder in England, looked far from it today—barely talented, if even that.
Millwall pressed their advantage, creating several set-piece opportunities. In the first three free kicks, Ronaldinho missed one, and Pirlo sent two over the bar.
Finally, on the fourth attempt, Pirlo took the shot again. Though it wasn't a great strike, it deflected off the wall and spun straight into the net.
As Martin retrieved the ball from the goal for the fourth time, his expression appeared completely numb.
"The first half ends with reigning champions Millwall leading 4-0 against Leeds United on their own turf. Given Millwall's recent form, many wouldn't be surprised by this score. But to see them dismantle Leeds, the league leaders, in just 30 minutes—nobody could have predicted it. It's not even about wondering if Leeds can make a comeback in the second half. Anything's possible in football, but judging by their play, Leeds hasn't had a single shot on goal since the 30th minute. Scoring four goals is nearly impossible for them."
At halftime, Aldrich used up two substitutions.
Lampard came on for Pirlo.
Gronkjaer replaced Ronaldinho.
These changes left Leeds United's players fuming.
Many top teams ease off by making substitutions around the 60- or 70-minute mark once they're ahead, but changing two players at halftime was an affront, a clear message of disdain toward Leeds.
Yet Leeds had no better strategy to break Millwall's defense and reclaim their pride.
In the second half, Aldrich saw Leeds players frequently resorting to fouls, turning to aggressive tactics!
When Alan Smith tackled Makelele from behind, injuring him, Aldrich coldly clapped from the sidelines.
He kept clapping, pointing at Smith as he continued his applause.
"Well done, Leeds United."
This is the only way you could handle this game, isn't it?
Aldrich didn't engage O'Leary in an argument or lodge a complaint with the fourth official; instead, he walked to the halfway line, facing O'Leary and applauding the opposing team.
The camera stayed fixed on Aldrich for a long time, making it clear to all viewers that the young coach was mocking Leeds United, using a sarcastic approach to humiliate them without showing real anger.
After Smith received a red card, he spat at Aldrich as he walked past, the action unmistakable, with the spit landing on Aldrich's suit sleeve. The Millwall coaching staff and substitutes rushed out to confront Smith, and before the referee arrived, Aldrich intervened to separate his team. Then, in plain view of everyone, he took off his suit and threw it to the ground, smirking disdainfully before turning back to check on Makelele's injury.
Makelele had been tackled from behind; he had initially dodged the challenge, but in doing so, he twisted his foot. As he exited the field, he shared a long whisper with Gattuso, offering encouragement with a supportive pat on the back. Just before heading down the tunnel, he raised one hand and showed four fingers.
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