Chapter 223: Set a Small Goal First—Let's Win the League Cup
"UEFA is really something else. Always screwing over Arsenal! I'm not even an Arsenal fan and I feel bad for them!"
"After playing Barça and Real, now they get Bayern again? It's like UEFA is doing everything they can to stop Arsenal from getting past the Round of 16."
"Say what you will, but when Real Madrid and Barça beat Arsenal in recent knockout stages, both ended up winning the Champions League. What's that say about Bayern this year?"
"Let's be real, it's between Bayern and Real Madrid this season. Barça's attack still needs fixing—Messi can't keep playing centrally like that, it's wasting him."
"Bayern's absolutely going to get their revenge this time. Without Li Ang, Real Madrid's midfield isn't the same. They better get ready."
…
The Champions League Round of 16 draw was over, but the buzz had only just begun.
Arsenal, once again drawing a powerhouse opponent, became the object of widespread sympathy.
At this point, not even Arsène Wenger himself could figure out whether he'd unknowingly offended someone high up at UEFA, or if Arsenal's luck was just that horrendous.
In the last four seasons, they had drawn each of the Big Three—Real Madrid, Barcelona, and Bayern Munich—in the first knockout round.
If UEFA wasn't rigging something, then Arsenal had to be the unluckiest club in Europe.
Other than their clash with Bayern, the only other true heavyweight battle from the draw was Manchester City vs. Barcelona.
Every other powerhouse drew relatively manageable opponents—including Chelsea.
PSG had been impressive in the Champions League last season.
But this year, without Zlatan, they hadn't even been able to outperform Olympiacos in the group stage and only barely made it through in second place.
Their performances were all over the place. Inconsistent. Unconvincing.
They simply didn't look like a top-tier European side anymore.
Chelsea, on the other hand, were flying high both in the Premier League and Europe.
They were widely considered one of the strongest teams in Europe this season.
So when the draw pitted Chelsea against PSG, the general consensus was clear:
Chelsea were the heavy favorites.
Very few believed PSG and Chelsea were still on the same level.
That said, the matchup still held plenty of storylines.
PSG's first team included several ex-Mourinho players from Real Madrid—Sami Khedira, Higuaín, and of course…
Mesut Özil, aka "272."
Add to that Thiago Silva's friendship with both Li Ang and Ibrahimović, plus the fact that Zlatan had led PSG to the UCL semifinals just last season…
Yeah, this draw had layers.
There were warm reunions, yes.
But also… grudges.
Especially between Li Ang and Özil.
Back in their La Liga days, their tension had been very public.
And even now, Li Ang never mentioned Özil when reminiscing about his Real Madrid teammates—he treated him like he was dead.
Özil, in turn, never hid his disdain.
He likely still believed Li Ang had stolen his starting spot—and his chance at glory.
Özil had been vocal about it, either directly or through his father, constantly complaining to the media.
Li Ang? He didn't bother responding.
He treated Özil's whining like a meme—something to laugh at.
But this time?
This time they were finally going to face off.
No need to bring it up before.
But now that fate had put them on a collision course, Li Ang was ready.
That very night, after watching the draw unfold, he started thinking about how best to "greet" his former teammate.
There was still over two months before the Round of 16 kicked off, so he wasn't rushing it.
His current focus remained squarely on the domestic front—both the EFL Cup and the Premier League.
Two days prior, Chelsea had thumped relegation-threatened Crystal Palace 3–0.
That win closed out the "easy stretch" of their league campaign.
After 16 Premier League matches, Chelsea had a glittering record of 13 wins, 2 draws, and just 1 loss.
But the next three games?
Arsenal, Swansea, and Liverpool.
And before those crucial league showdowns came a make-or-break EFL Cup quarterfinal against Stoke City.
Between December 17 and December 29, Chelsea had to play four games in thirteen days.
The schedule was brutal, the stakes immense—but Chelsea had no choice.
Get through it, and they'd reach the EFL Cup semifinals in February and finish the first half of the league strong.
Stumble, and it could all unravel—extra time against Stoke, a draw with Arsenal, and suddenly Arsenal could be back on top.
Momentum in football is everything.
Lose it, and things fall apart fast.
Li Ang rarely looked nervous, but now even he grew serious.
Mourinho? He was practically living in the tactics room.
The prep window was tiny. Matches came nonstop.
And in this final stretch, Chelsea had to face:
Stoke City (the Premier League's bruisers),
Arsenal (title rivals),
Swansea (top-four hopefuls),
Liverpool (the league's hottest attack).
Fans might enjoy the fireworks, but for Chelsea's squad, this was a pressure cooker.
"We're still six points ahead of Arsenal and City—two full games," assistant coach Rui Faria offered.
But before he could finish, Mourinho shut it down.
"No! We don't even entertain that.
Don't let the players think we're doing any kind of math like that."
"This isn't Everton, Southampton, or United we're talking about.
These are Arsenal and Liverpool—real threats to our top spot."
"If we back off now, even once, what happens next time the schedule gets tough?
You give ground now, and next time you'll give even more."
With that, Mourinho set the tone for the meeting.
Chelsea's entire coaching staff quickly aligned.
The strategy was clear: full throttle until New Year's. No exceptions.
Many neutral Premier League fans chose to simply turn off their TVs.
Watching Sunderland get pinned to the ground and pummeled by Chelsea was just too painful—
and it stirred up terrifying thoughts of how their own teams might fare against Chelsea in the coming weeks.
Getting crushed in midfield by Li Ang and Matić?
That wasn't just brutal—it was sadistic.
In the end, Chelsea walked away from the Stadium of Light with a commanding 4–1 victory.
Only Čech had something to grumble about—once again, no clean-sheet bonus.
But the rest of the Chelsea squad was delighted with the result.
De Bruyne, who came on in the 74th minute, even assisted Zlatan's third goal of the night.
Zlatan completed his hat-trick and immediately promised to treat the entire team to a feast back in London.
Despite the tight schedule, Mourinho didn't want to kill the good vibes.
He gave everyone a half-day off, and the away dressing room erupted with cheers.
That night, Chelsea's entire squad descended on London's city center like a victorious army.
Li Ang had been the one treating them to French cuisine last time, and the guys were getting sick of it.
This time, Zlatan made the call—a private Italian restaurant with top-shelf wine.
Why not British food?
Well, as Terry and Lampard would attest, no self-respecting Chelsea player voluntarily ordered local cuisine.
For the foreign players? Forcing them to eat British food was basically a form of torture.
Dinner was loud, happy, and just a little wild. But the boys didn't push it.
Before 2 a.m., everyone said their goodbyes and went home to rest.
Li Ang had tried to decline the invitation but was dragged out by his teammates.
While others were busy chatting up gorgeous women left and right, he just pulled on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and napped quietly in the booth.
Sure enough, The Sun ran a front-page story the next morning about "seven or eight Chelsea players partying it up at a London nightclub."
Surprisingly, the headline included a shot of Li Ang.
But after fans read the article and realized what he was actually doing, they just chuckled.
Yep, sleeping in a nightclub with headphones on?
Classic Li Ang.
Mourinho didn't fuss over his players' nightlife.
As long as they turned up in good condition the next day, he didn't care.
And sure enough, when training resumed in the afternoon, he was satisfied with their focus.
Nobody had gone overboard.
The players knew they had only taken a brief breather—and their professionalism showed.
Mourinho even teased Li Ang with the Sun's gossip piece, chuckling as he held it up in front of the team.
Just a bit of flavor in the otherwise repetitive cycle of training and matches.
Three days later, Chelsea were already on the move again—this time heading to the Britannia Stadium for Premier League Matchday 15 against Stoke City.
It was more than just a league game.
This was also a preview of the EFL Cup quarterfinal, where the two sides would clash again.
Everyone knew Chelsea were the stronger team.
But Stoke? Stoke were always dangerous, especially in their fortress of a home stadium.
From kickoff, Stoke made their intentions clear:
Defend. Deep. Hard. All game long.
For Chelsea, who had to rotate several veterans due to the crowded schedule, it was a tactical headache.
Stoke had the size, the strength, and the high-ball threat to steal points from even elite teams.
Mourinho wasn't about to recklessly push numbers forward and risk giving them easy counterattacking set-piece chances.
Li Ang surveyed Stoke's lineup from the middle of the pitch and couldn't help but marvel.
"This whole team is built to win ugly—defend deep, then lump it up and crash the box."
If Chelsea were fully rested, no problem.
But right now, with fatigue piling up, Mourinho had to be cautious.
After a cautious first 20 minutes, Mourinho made the call.
"Play it safe."
Holland understood instantly.
Chelsea adopted a conventional, conservative strategy—focus on securing their box first and don't chase the game.
It wasn't pretty, but it worked.
The match ended in a 0–0 draw—Chelsea's second draw of the season.
Afterward, Mourinho and Stoke's manager Mark Hughes exchanged respectful handshakes.
Both knew they had taken the pragmatic route.
The good news? Chelsea now had a full week to rest and reset.
Unlike other top Premier League teams, Chelsea had already secured first place in their Champions League group.
The final group match was just a formality.
On December 11th, they hosted Steaua Bucharest.
Desperate for qualification, the Romanian champions threw everything forward, hoping for a miracle.
But Mourinho wasn't about to let his undefeated home record get spoiled.
Had the match been in Bucharest? He might've taken it easy.
But this was Stamford Bridge.
And at Stamford Bridge, a draw was the bare minimum.
The young Chelsea players who got the start defended fiercely.
Kalas, once again, stood out as Chelsea's most impressive defender.
Thanks to his heroic effort, Steaua didn't register a single shot inside Chelsea's box in the first half.
The second half was just as dry—until the 78th minute.
De Bruyne assisted Lukaku on a lethal counterattack goal, and Steaua's spirits collapsed.
Chelsea saw out the 1–0 win.
Meanwhile, in Gelsenkirchen, Schalke did their job—beating Basel 3–1 and grabbing the second ticket out of Group E.
On December 16th, the entire football world turned its eyes to Switzerland for the 2013–14 Champions League Round of 16 draw.
Because Bayern had beaten Manchester City to win Group D, they avoided Chelsea—for now.
Instead, they drew Arsenal.
Another year, another brutal knockout draw.
Arsenal fans had no words left.
Chelsea's draw wasn't easy—but not disastrous either.
Paris Saint-Germain.
A tasty matchup.
Li Ang smiled after watching the draw.
He finally had the chance to make a certain someone taste despair.
272.
Mesut Özil.
A clash long overdue.
In terms of tactical effectiveness, Hazard's elite dribbling ability had already surpassed Bale's.
What made him even more terrifying was that he could break down compact defenses and create chances even when space was limited.
That kind of skill was rare—
In today's football world, only Messi stood clearly above the rest in that department.
And right below Messi's tier, Hazard was undoubtedly among the best.
For the first 30 minutes of the match, Stoke City's defensive duo on Hazard's flank—Nzonzi and right-back Cameron—were completely overrun.
Normally, this would be when Stoke turned to rough fouls.
But perhaps with the memory of Chelsea's vicious retaliation against West Ham still fresh, they restrained themselves.
Yes, their tackles were heavy.
But they didn't cross into dangerous or malicious territory.
That level of contact was still manageable for Hazard.
So he repeatedly broke through and created multiple dangerous chances.
The only disappointment?
Both Zlatan and Lampard completely botched their chances inside the box.
Hazard, who had set both up, was visibly frustrated.
It wasn't until the 34th minute that another golden opportunity came.
Li Ang had surged up from the back, and Hazard spotted it immediately.
Lampard delivered a sharp lateral pass, giving Li Ang space to carry forward into Stoke's defensive third.
Zlatan, sensing the danger, peeled off his marker and dropped out of the box to offer support.
Their movement rattled Stoke's backline—just enough to crack the shape.
That's when Li Ang sent a low, laser-like through pass down the right.
De Bruyne, who'd been quiet all game, finally had room to deliver.
He didn't wait—he adjusted his stride, and without stopping the ball, whipped in a booming cross.
At the far post, Zlatan had already launched himself into the air.
All eyes followed him.
Shawcross wrestled hard to deny him position.
But Zlatan didn't go for goal—he glanced it backward toward the penalty spot.
Li Ang, who had drifted centrally, received it mid-air.
It wasn't a perfect spot to shoot. He was under pressure, back to goal.
So he planted himself, shielding the ball from Wilson.
Shooting was impossible.
Heading? No chance. He hadn't even jumped.
As he quickly scanned the box, something caught his eye—
A streak of blue just outside the D.
Hazard.
"Li Ang holds his ground! He's… laying it off again?! Hazard!"
Jian Jun's voice spiked as every Chinese fan watching turned their eyes toward Hazard.
He didn't hesitate.
One touch to settle, a step to adjust, and then a silky right-footed curling shot!
Begović's vision was blocked—there were too many bodies in the box.
He saw it too late.
Hazard's shot curled cleanly into the top right corner.
1–0.
Chelsea had broken through.
Their place in the League Cup semifinals was now well within reach.
The 20,000 Stoke fans at the Britannia were gripped with dread.
Because so far this season, whenever Chelsea scored first, they always won.
And when Mourinho had a lead?
He became the most cunning, most suffocating tactician in all of football.
Sure enough, he wasted no time.
"EVERYONE BACK! Don't even let a mosquito into our box!"
He shouted from the touchline, practically jumping with excitement.
Stoke manager Mark Hughes, standing nearby, could only shake his head.
With the score flipped, Chelsea now parked the bus—and Stoke had to attack.
But they didn't have a difference-maker.
No midfield general. No striker who could bulldoze a wall like Chelsea's.
In the final minutes of the first half, all they managed was one long-range effort.
Chelsea, content with their lead, marched into the dressing room fully satisfied.
When the second half started, Hughes realized Chelsea had no intention of coming out to play.
And that terrified him.
Because Mourinho could absolutely sit on a one-goal lead for the rest of the match—and he had done it many times before.
Still, Stoke held out for the first 15 minutes.
But once the clock hit 60, they had no choice.
They pushed forward with everything they had.
But De Bruyne was waiting.
In the 77th minute, he delivered a 30-meter diagonal ball over the top.
Zlatan ran onto it like a freight train and finished the one-on-one with ease.
2–0. Game over.
After the match, fans expected Hazard or Zlatan to win Man of the Match.
But instead, the honor went to the man who'd barely touched the ball in attack—
Li Ang.
6 interceptions
11 tackles
1 key clearance
84 total passes
77 completed (92% pass accuracy)
2 key passes
1 assist
A perfect two-way performance that left even neutral fans in awe.
Chelsea were through to the League Cup semifinals.
For the players and the staff, it was time to set a new goal—
Let's win the EFL Cup.
Let's bring home a trophy.
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