"It's another wide attack from Barcelona."
"Pedro, who came on as a substitute, receives the ball on the left and plays it to Agüero, who tries to thread it into the box."
"Kompany blocks the pass, but Barça still regain possession."
"Look at this—Iniesta gets the ball and curls a cross to the far post."
"Neuer charges out and grabs it first!"
"Sánchez is frustrated. He thinks the cross was too close to the goalkeeper."
"But you have to admit, Neuer's control of the area is exceptional."
"Manchester City launch a quick counterattack."
"Neuer boots it straight into the attacking third…"
…
When Manchester City scored their second goal, Barcelona responded with bold changes.
Guardiola subbed off Thiago Motta and brought on Pedro, shifting Busquets and Piqué into a double centre-back pairing.
Up front, it became a four-man attack: Pedro, Agüero, Messi, and Sánchez, with Iniesta and Xavi operating in midfield.
It was the classic "burning the boats" move.
But this aggressive setup also left them vulnerable. As soon as Neuer's kick reached the front line, Suárez pulled wide to the left, read the ball's trajectory perfectly, used his body to shield Busquets, controlled it with his chest, and quickly knocked it back to David Silva before spinning forward.
Barça knew the risk of these substitutions and worked hard to recover defensively. Everyone tracked back quickly.
Xavi in particular stepped in front of David Silva immediately, trying to block the connection between City's midfield and the front three.
With no clear path, David Silva passed to Rakitic.
Rakitic attempted to spread play to the right, but Vargas had already tracked back quickly. City's right flank failed to develop, so Robben cut inside and played it back.
Barcelona pressed hard in midfield, but Manchester City calmly passed around the pressure and quickly switched to the left.
David Luiz stepped up, advanced a few meters, and spotted Robben drifting into space between the lines. He played a sharp pass to the Dutchman's feet.
Robben received, turned, and clipped a diagonal ball with his left foot into the left side of the box.
Suárez controlled it, faked a drive to the byline, tricked Busquets into overcommitting, then cut back and lofted a cross with his right foot toward the far post.
No one knew exactly when Gareth Bale had arrived, but he was already in the right place. Using the momentum of his run, he leapt and met the ball with a powerful header before Valdés could react.
Suárez's cross found Bale perfectly, and the Welshman headed it into the right corner of Barcelona's goal.
Piqué raised his hand, appealing for offside.
But referee Viktor Kassai waved play on—Piqué had played Bale onside.
"GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!"
"Three to one!"
"In the 83rd minute, Manchester City strike again!"
"Gareth Bale with a close-range header!"
"Oh my, Manchester City's counterattacks have been razor-sharp tonight, and Barça's defensive problems continue to be exposed."
"While we admire Guardiola's courage and boldness with his substitutions, taking off Thiago Motta and bringing on Pedro hasn't helped defensively. In fact, it's made things worse."
…
"It's almost over," Ferguson sighed from the chairman's box.
When the clock hit the 84th minute and Gao Shen brought on Yaya Touré for David Silva, the entire Manchester City section at Wembley rose in applause.
The Spanish midfielder had delivered an outstanding performance.
Watching the substitution, Ferguson and the others realized it was over.
Judging by the flow of the second half, Barcelona had failed to come up with a viable solution to counter Manchester City's adjustments.
Otherwise, Guardiola wouldn't have gambled by replacing Motta with Pedro.
That halftime formation switch had initially looked promising, but in the end, the substitution had failed to change the outcome.
Gao Shen's tactical control had restrained Guardiola—not just in pre-match prep, but also in in-game adjustments.
Wenger, watching it all unfold, was in high spirits. Seeing Ferguson's gloomy face only added to his amusement.
"I honestly didn't expect it, building a treble-winning team in just two years. And not just any treble-winning team, but one that dominates like this. And now, he has just won his third Champions League…"
Wenger stopped mid-sentence and laughed.
Ferguson's face darkened. "If you have something to say, say it. No need to get sarcastic."
"Who's being sarcastic? I'm praising him!" Wenger said cheerfully.
"You call that praise?" Ferguson grumbled.
Damn that Frenchman.
"If I'm not praising him, am I insulting him? Am I insulting him for winning a treble that some managers dream of their whole life? Or am I insulting him for winning a third Champions League, something others will never achieve?"
Wenger was having a great time.
Sure, he wasn't feeling great. But he wasn't going to let Ferguson off easy either.
Ferguson finally realized—Wenger was deliberately winding him up.
"Fine. I consider winning a treble the pride of my career. Better than those who've never won one. Oh right, some managers haven't even won a single Champions League. That's tragic. I've got two. I look at them every day and open another bottle of wine."
After a pause, before Wenger could reply, Ferguson added, "Wait a minute. City are unbeaten this season. Treble winners. But why can't someone else be unbeaten? Who holds the record for the worst unbeaten champions in history?"
Wenger was instantly speechless.
True. He still didn't have a Champions League title.
And it was all because of that damn Gao Shen!
If he hadn't taken over Real Madrid, I might've had a shot at the Champions League.
And that "invincible" season... I...
Wenger trailed off and stared at Ferguson in silence.
Ferguson met his gaze. The two old rivals who had clashed for over a decade now felt an odd sense of sympathy. For a moment, they even felt like banding together in shared frustration.
It was all Gao Shen's fault!
…
The last threatening attack of the game came in the 92nd minute.
Xavi slid a through ball into Messi's path. The Argentine beat two Manchester City defenders and let fly with his left foot toward the bottom-right corner.
But Neuer flew across and made a brilliant save, pushing it wide.
Barcelona failed to create anything from the ensuing corner.
By this point, even Barça's players had accepted defeat.
If Messi had scored, they might've had a sliver of hope. But it didn't go in.
Gao Shen made his final change, subbing off Robben for De Bruyne.
Everyone knew how highly the club rated the young Belgian.
Bringing him on in the closing moments of a Champions League final, even during stoppage time, was a clear show of trust and encouragement.
City fans welcomed him with loud cheers.
Robben, coming off, gave him a pat of support, then walked to the dugout, hugged Gao Shen, and waved to the fans. He had been one of the best players on the pitch—one of the hardest-working too.
This was Robben's first Champions League title.
…
"Congratulations."
As soon as referee Kassai blew the final whistle, Guardiola walked straight to Gao Shen, embraced him, and congratulated him on winning his third Champions League title as a coach.
Gao Shen thanked him.
The two stood side by side at the touchline, watching the contrasting emotions of their players, each with a complex expression.
Guardiola's was one of bitterness. Three consecutive Champions League finals—only one win. And two losses to Gao Shen. That was hard to take.
But he had to admit, there was no better way to deal with Manchester City tonight.
Barcelona had thrown everything they had. But City's defense was airtight, and whenever they won the ball back, they calmly played through Barça's press and launched lethal counters.
It was terrifying.
Even worse, Manchester City's front three had incredible individual ability.
"If you'd used your second-half tactics from the start, the game might've gone differently," Gao Shen offered, trying to comfort him.
It would have caught him off guard.
Then again, he had prepared for that possibility too. Unless Barça struck early, the result likely wouldn't have changed.
"You know," Guardiola said, "last night during our staff meeting, I wanted to start Messi centrally. The others said it was too risky. I insisted. But after midnight, I saw your tweet, and I started to doubt myself."
By the end, even Guardiola found it funny.
"Remember? You once told me—when in doubt, trust your instincts."
"But when it's about you, I just can't trust mine."
Gao Shen burst out laughing.
Guardiola's words meant more than the trophy. They were recognition—and that made him truly happy.
"Actually, I guessed you'd be torn. I watched a lot of your games. I figured you were weighing those two systems."
"So that tweet…"
"I wasn't saying anything special. Just wanted you to relax and get some sleep," Gao Shen said with a straight face.
Guardiola slapped his own forehead, pointed at himself, then at Gao Shen, completely at a loss for words.
"What?" Gao Shen asked, looking innocent.
"It's fine, it's fine." Guardiola waved him off. "I'm blocking you on Twitter when I get back!"
Now it was Gao Shen's turn to be stunned.
(To be continued.)