Chapter 248: Pushing on Two Fronts, Charging Toward Glory!
"Another final, another two goal contributions. Honestly, is there any player in the world right now who performs in big matches like Leon?"
"I actually thought Leon might break his streak of winning a trophy every season since he entered the top leagues. Guess I was playing it too safe."
"Ten years from now, Chelsea's board will look back and be glad they paid the buyout clause to get Leon last summer.
That €80 million? Total bargain.
Heck, if PSG had known what he'd become, they'd have paid double."
"Now the season's base goal is complete. All Chelsea has to do is focus on the league and the Champions League.
Win the Premier League and call the season a success—getting to the Champions League semis would already be satisfying."
"If we make the UCL semis, I'm happy. Hopefully we don't draw Real Madrid or Bayern in the quarterfinals..."
As Wembley's crew assembled the trophy platform, fans back in China buzzed with excitement over Leon's latest triumph.
With the League Cup secured and a double 20 season on his stat sheet, Leon now had only one thing left to cap off a successful debut season in England:
The Premier League title.
Looking back at Real Madrid, their midfield had weakened. Without Xabi Alonso (injured), Barça and Atlético had pulled further ahead.
Where Madrid used to bully La Liga with their strong midfield core, now they'd been bullied—twice—by Atlético.
It was surreal.
On March 1st, following Atlético's 3–2 derby win over Real, Simeone joked at the press conference:
"That was a tough win.
If Leon were still with Real, we might've only drawn, and I'd be sweating about him popping up for a last-minute winner.
Thankfully, he's not in Madrid—or La Liga anymore. So tonight, I'll sleep well."
Simeone knew exactly how to twist the knife—and fans across Spain had a field day:
"Leon left almost a year ago, but Simeone's still thinking about him. That's true love."
Leon had no idea he was trending on Spanish social media again—thanks to Simeone.
Even though he was gone, the Madrid Derby could never fully escape his shadow.
Same for El Clásico.
Every time Madrid lost a big game, fans missed Leon a little more.
But Leon himself?
He was basking in the glow of his first English trophy.
As confetti rained down, he took the League Cup from Captain Terry and lifted it high, kissing the silverware.
Sure, the League Cup didn't carry the prestige of other titles, but it was his first in England—and that made it special.
Veterans like Lampard and Ibrahimović were calm—they'd lifted plenty of trophies like this before.
But the younger Chelsea players? This was proof they'd finally made it in English football.
Their celebrations were loud, wild, and full of joy.
Leon stepped aside, letting his "little brothers" soak in the spotlight.
That night, the club hosted a formal banquet—and Leon also footed the bill for a night out clubbing, should his teammates want it.
This kind of victory celebration was normal for a top team filled with energetic young pros.
So long as no one overdid it or made headlines, Mourinho wouldn't interfere.
Leon himself didn't attend the party.
Instead, The Sun snapped him leaving the stadium with Anastasiya, arm around her, heading to their hotel.
But since her face wasn't captured, the next day's "breaking" story barely made a ripple.
Leon had already gone public about being in a relationship.
What could they write?
"Star player celebrates trophy with girlfriend"? Big deal.
The only thing fans were still curious about was her identity and appearance.
Until those were confirmed, even The Sun's stories were just whispers on the wind.
In truth, sports papers—especially in England—saw their biggest sales spike from Chelsea's victory.
Meanwhile, Premier League Round 28 played out mostly on March 1st and 2nd.
Chelsea vs. Fulham and the Manchester derby were postponed due to the final.
Liverpool took advantage, beating Southampton 3–0 and closing the gap to City and Arsenal.
Arsenal, though, lost 0–1 away at Stoke—missing a golden chance to leapfrog City with an extra match played.
So the new top-four picture?
Chelsea well in front.
City, Arsenal, and Liverpool bunched tightly—only a point separating each.
Tottenham, despite a favorable schedule, had dropped points twice in a row. Now eight points behind Liverpool, their top-four hopes were fading.
With only ten league matches left, the race for top four was going to be a bloodbath.
Arsenal's repeated stumbles angered fans.
City, eight points behind Chelsea, weren't completely out of it—but they were running out of time.
Looking ahead, Chelsea still had to face Spurs, Arsenal, and Liverpool.
Plus tricky mid-table sides like Stoke and Swansea.
If Chelsea dropped two matches, and City stayed perfect, things could get interesting.
Of course, this kind of hopeful forecasting came mostly from pro-City media outlets in Manchester.
Everywhere else? Most experts believed Chelsea would lock the league down.
Why? Because Chelsea had proven they could win tough games.
And tough games were what won titles.
After one night of partying and two full days of rest, Chelsea's squad reported back to Cobham.
Mourinho, as he always was after a trophy, was more relaxed.
Some players didn't quite meet fitness benchmarks—maybe they'd partied a bit hard.
But there were no harsh warnings or scoldings.
The first day back was light—recovery focused.
Mourinho gave them space to reset. To breathe.
They'd earned it.
In the two and a half days of training that followed, not a single Chelsea first-team player was publicly scolded by Mourinho for poor performance.
But while Mourinho chose not to name names this time, both Terry and Leon privately approached a few younger teammates who had shown signs of slacking—and gave them a "friendly chat."
Among them were Bertrand and Hazard.
Watching Hazard's slightly rounded belly poking out after just two days of rest, Leon finally understood why Mourinho was always on this guy's case.
The thing was, Hazard always knew when he messed up. He was quick to admit it and willing to fix it.
But the moment supervision eased up, he'd fall right back into his gluttonous little habits.
It wasn't a huge issue. The physical toll of professional football meant small indulgences were usually burned off quickly in training.
But for someone like Hazard, blessed with elite-level talent, even minor lapses could become serious long-term obstacles.
Leon figured Mourinho had seen this issue long before he had and had probably already spoken with Hazard one-on-one, heart-to-heart.
But the fact that Hazard still struggled with self-discipline showed it was ultimately his own choice.
"You, man…"
The day before their Round 29 league match, after finishing training, Leon slung an arm over Hazard's shoulder and suddenly said:
"If I get a chance this year or next to compete for the Ballon d'Or, you better give me everything you've got to help win the Champions League."
They had fallen a little behind the rest of the squad walking back to the locker room, so only Hazard heard him.
Baby-faced and still clean-shaven, Hazard blinked, then smiled shyly and nodded.
"Alright. I'll give it everything I've got, boss."
Hearing that, Leon gave his shoulder a squeeze and thought to himself:
"You don't want to be the leader, and you're not built to be.
Then I'll make sure you become the best second-in-command a team could have."
Hazard walked beside him, and for a moment, there was a visible lightness in his eyes.
After ample rest and three and a half days of focused training, Chelsea hosted fifth-place Spurs at Stamford Bridge on the evening of March 8.
This match, however, had none of the warmth that lingered the last time the two teams met.
That's because André Villas-Boas—once a disciple of Mourinho—had already been sacked by Spurs chairman Daniel Levy during the January transfer window.
Back then, Spurs had topped their Europa League group and were sitting sixth in the league.
Not a bad run by any measure, especially considering they had lost Bale and replaced him with mostly young, unproven talents.
But Levy had no patience. Despite the circumstances, he used "poor results" as justification and axed Boas.
In truth, it was a classic Levy move—absolutely no self-awareness.
So with Boas gone, Mourinho saw no reason to show Spurs any mercy.
He went all-in with an aggressive 4-3-3 starting formation.
And for the first time, De Bruyne started alongside Leon in central midfield, playing as the right-sided number 8.
Up front, Lukaku replaced him on the right wing, with Ibra and Hazard also starting.
This highly aggressive Chelsea lineup had Spurs' new coach Tim Sherwood shaking in his boots.
Spurs were hit hard by injuries, especially in midfield—Eriksen was out.
Unable to control possession or reliably defend, Sherwood set up a conservative formation, hoping to slow Chelsea's onslaught.
From kickoff, Spurs dropped into a deep block, barely crossing midfield.
Leon noticed Lennon playing as a central attacking midfielder and Kyle Walker pushed up just to maintain formation integrity.
Given Spurs' injury crisis, Leon genuinely couldn't see any way Chelsea would lose this game—unless they self-destructed.
The only thing he regretted was not getting to catch up with his old friend Eriksen.
With De Bruyne instead of Lampard as his midfield partner, Leon found that attacking play became drastically simpler.
Spurs had no way to stop his shielding and deep surges.
When he pulled defenders toward him, it opened up space on the weak side for De Bruyne to work his magic.
And from there, KDB put on a show—pinging deadly passes into both flanks and half-spaces like a sniper.
With almost no weak foot to speak of, De Bruyne whipped vicious, curling passes with both feet—fast, accurate, devastating.
Playing wide right had limited him. But inside, there was nowhere he couldn't go.
As Spurs tried to clamp down on KDB, Leon delivered the death blow.
In just the 16th minute, while KDB was double-marked, Leon surged up to support and broke through to the top of the box.
Dawson and Sandro rushed out to meet him, but Leon slipped the ball left—
Hazard took it, adjusted, and curled in a beautiful shot.
Lloris was too late.
1–0, Chelsea.
Six minutes later, Leon surged forward again.
He faked a pass to Ibra, shifted angles, and drilled a thunderous shot from outside the box—
Goal!
2–0.
From that moment on, it was total Chelsea domination.
Without Boas, Spurs had no tactical flexibility. Sherwood wasn't a seasoned tactician.
Before the 30-minute mark, they were already drowning.
By the 34th minute, Ibra met Azpilicueta's cross with a towering header to make it 3–0.
At halftime, the match was effectively over.
Before kickoff, most pundits had predicted Chelsea would win—but this? A full-blown demolition?
No one saw that coming.
In the season's second half, Chelsea—fresh off winning the League Cup—were surging forward on both fronts.
They weren't just playing for silverware.
They were charging, full tilt, toward the crown.
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