209: Finals ticket and three-way rush

The night at Victoria Park was like a boiling volcano. Tens of thousands of fans packed the stands, and blue and white scarves fluttered in the night sky. It was the second leg of the League Cup semi-final, the last hurdle on the way to Wembley.

Inside the locker room, Old John faced the eager players. His voice trembled, but his gaze was as firm as steel.

“Boys, Wembley is waiting for us.”

Vardy stretched his muscles, a bestial hunger burning in his eyes. De Bruyne caressed the football, his fingertips feeling the texture of the leather. Henderson clenched his fists, his knuckles making a slight cracking sound.

In the player tunnel, the two teams’ players brushed past each other. Manchester City’s players looked solemn; they knew this Championship team was by no means ordinary. Robinho glanced at Vardy, a hint of apprehension flashing in his eyes.

The opening whistle pierced the night sky.

Manchester City launched the first attack. Robinho dribbled continuously down the left wing, his footwork giving the defenders a headache. But Hartlepool’s defense was like an iron wall; every interception was precise and powerful.

In the twelfth minute, the opportunity arose.

Henderson successfully intercepted the ball in midfield, and it instantly reached De Bruyne’s feet. The Belgian youngster didn’t hesitate, a precise through ball tearing through Manchester City’s defense.

Vardy sprinted.

His speed was like lightning, shaking off the chasing defenders, and he faced the onrushing goalkeeper, Hart. Time seemed to stand still, and the entire stadium held its breath.

A delicate chip shot, the ball sailed over Hart’s head and slowly dropped into the net.

Victoria Park exploded instantly. Fans embraced wildly, and streamers flew everywhere. Vardy rushed towards the corner flag, and his teammates swarmed around him.

“Goal! A goal by Vardy!” the commentator screamed hoarsely, “Hartlepool United has a dream start!”

Lin Feng gently stroked Sophie’s hand in the box, a faint smile on his face. Sophie jumped up excitedly, the diamond ring on her left hand sparkling under the lights.

In the second half, Manchester City launched a frenzied counterattack. Mark Hughes roared on the sidelines, waving his arms. His players were like mad beasts, launching wave after wave of attacks on Hartlepool’s goal.

Schmeichel became the team’s guardian angel. The Danish goalkeeper made high and low saves, deflecting the opponent’s attacks one by one. In the sixtieth minute, he miraculously saved Robinho’s close-range shot. In the seventieth minute, he denied Wright-Phillips’ header.

Time passed minute by minute, and Manchester City’s offense grew even more frantic. But Hartlepool’s defense remained unmoving; every player gave their all.

In the eighty-fifth minute, the fatal blow came.

De Bruyne intercepted the ball in midfield, not rushing to pass, but looking up to assess the situation on the field. Suddenly, he spotted a gap.

Long pass!

The ball arced through the night sky, accurately finding the forward-running Vardy. The England striker once again displayed astonishing speed, going one-on-one with the goalkeeper.

Calm, composed, a push shot into the net!

A brace!

The entire stadium erupted completely. Fans jumped wildly, and the roar pierced the sky. Vardy took off his jersey and ran wildly to celebrate on the field.

“Oh my goodness! Vardy scores again!” the commentator’s voice trembled, “2-0! 3-1 on aggregate! Hartlepool United are in the Wembley final!”

At the final whistle, the players embraced wildly. Old John was thrown into the air, tears of excitement in his eyes. At this moment, all the effort had paid off.

Lin Feng slowly stood up and hugged Sophie affectionately. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her face was beaming with a happy smile.

“We did it,” she whispered in his ear.

Lin Feng nodded, his gaze firm. “This is just the beginning.”

In the following days, Hartlepool United, like a precise machine, exerted force on three fronts simultaneously.

On January 31st, at Victoria Park, facing Preston, the team showed powerful dominance. De Bruyne scored a brace, and Coutinho and Vardy each scored a goal, a 4-1 scoreline leaving the opponents helpless.

On February 7th, an away challenge against Southampton. This was a revenge match, and the players had a fire in their hearts. Henderson scored just ten minutes into the game, followed by Vardy and Snodgrass adding to the score. 3-1, a clean and decisive victory.

On February 10th, at Birmingham City’s home ground, St. Andrew's Stadium. Facing a tenacious opponent, Hartlepool displayed the temperament of champions. Coutinho’s long-range shot and Maloney’s rebound shot secured a 2-0 victory for the team.

The three consecutive wins further extended the team’s lead in the League table. The media began discussing the Championship title, and everyone believed the suspense had vanished.

But Lin Feng knew that the biggest challenge was yet to come.

On February 14th, Valentine’s Day, Victoria Park welcomed its FA Cup fifth-round opponent—Premier League powerhouse Aston Villa.

This was a test of rotation and trust. Lin Feng boldly used a rotated lineup, giving young players a chance to prove themselves.

Smalling performed steadily in the defense; every clearance he made was just right. Tom Ince showed astonishing creativity in the attack, with several threatening passes that kept the opponents guessing.

In the first half, Smalling scored with a header from a corner kick. In the second half, Ince’s clever shot in the box sealed the victory. 2-0, another Premier League team fell to Hartlepool.

Into the quarter-finals!

The entire England football world was shocked. A Championship team was showing terrifying dominance on all three fronts. The media began using “the prelude to the Hartlepool dynasty” to describe this incredible team.

On February 21st, a crucial battle arrived. Wolves, a direct competitor in the Championship, came to Victoria Park. The outcome of this match would directly determine the Championship title.

The match was exceptionally intense. Wolves displayed tenacious fighting spirit; they knew this might be their last chance. Both sides engaged in a fierce midfield battle, with sparks flying from every tackle.

In the second half, De Bruyne’s free-kick gave the team the lead. The ball curled over the wall and into the top corner of the goal. 1-0, a precious victory.

At the final whistle, the gap in the League table widened further. The suspense of the Championship title basically disappeared; Hartlepool United already had one foot in the Premier League.

On February 24th, Crystal Palace’s visit became an exhibition match. The team won comfortably with a 3-0 score, with Vardy, Coutinho, and Henderson each scoring a goal.

After the match, everyone’s attention turned to the upcoming Wembley showdown.

The opponent for the final had been confirmed—Manchester United. Ferguson and his Red Devils would be waiting at Wembley Stadium for a chance at revenge.

At the press conference, Ferguson uncharacteristically praised Hartlepool United. His words were full of respect, calling the team “the future of England football.”

But Old John learned another version from his Scottish compatriot. Ferguson had issued a strict order within Manchester United:

“At Wembley, we must not lose to the same lower-division team twice! This is a disgrace!”

The news reached Hartlepool, and the players’ morale soared even higher. They knew this would be a true war.

At Phoenix Training Center, the players were undergoing their final preparations. Every pass was precise, every shot aimed for perfection. They knew the Wembley stage would witness the birth of history.

Lin Feng stood by the training ground, his gaze profound. Sophie leaned against him, feeling his inner calm and determination.

“Are you nervous?” she asked softly.

Lin Feng shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Ferguson is a great coach, but this time, history is on our side.”

In the distance, the silhouette of Northern Dragon Arena was faintly visible against the sunset. In a few months, this modern stadium would welcome its first spectators.

But before that, another war awaited them.

The Wembley pitch would witness the birth of a dynasty.