Back at Old Trafford, when the broadcast cameras panned to the dugout, Ferguson had already disappeared into the tunnel.
Gary Neville had fallen silent in the commentary box. If you didn't know better, you'd think Manchester United's pundit hadn't shown up for the match at all.
Meanwhile, on the Liverpool fans' channel, the recently retired Jamie Carragher had worked himself into an absolute frenzy, "The 6-0 at Anfield wasn't enough! That was a home victory! Today we're going to slaughter United at Old Trafford, on their own patch! You see that? Julien! This kid is our confidence in the flesh!"
Although Carragher had only recently announced his retirement, Sky Sports had already confirmed he would join their commentary team for the 2013/14 season. The early stages of this match had left him thoroughly depressed, but now he was completely unleashed.
He continued: "Christ, I'm actually starting to question whether retirement was the right decision! I reckon Liverpool still needs a proper center-back. What do you lot think? I'm still available, yeah? Not sure if the club would re-sign me, mind you. Though obviously, I'm definitely not just trying to grab a title. Haha!"
Even the neutral commentators couldn't contain themselves, "My word! Julien De Rocca! It's him again! De Rocca's treating Old Trafford like his personal theater!
The memory of his double hat-trick at Anfield hasn't faded from United fans' minds, and today he's produced a brace to drag Liverpool back from a two-goal deficit into a level game!
De Rocca's ability to damage Manchester United transcends his age! He's not simply a goal-scoring machine—he's Liverpool's lifeline, the player who always steps forward precisely when the team needs him most!
The next forty-five minutes will see United forced to adjust, but the question remains: who can actually stop De Rocca? They couldn't manage it last match, and they haven't managed it so far today. His dribbling, his strikes, his composure in crucial moments, he's become an absolute nightmare for United's back line!
The second half will only intensify! With De Rocca leading Liverpool's attack, they've got their anchor point up front. They'll absolutely use this momentum to keep pressing.
And what about United? They've surrendered a two-goal advantage and suffered De Rocca's consecutive blows. They'll be desperate to regain control of the rhythm.
But one thing is certain: as long as De Rocca remains on the pitch, this North West Derby won't settle down! He's already proven himself with a brace. Now we'll see if United can develop a solution. The real spectacle has only just begun..."
The moment play restarted, Clattenburg blew for half-time.
Fans who'd watched the entire first half found the 2-2 scoreline completely unexpected. Liverpool had been dreadful for most of the period. They'd played well for perhaps five or six-minutes in total.
But in those precious minutes, Julien had seized his opportunities.
Liverpool's attacking efficiency or more accurately, Julien's attacking efficiency had proven genuinely frightening to United fans, and indeed to fans of other Premier League clubs as well.
The truly concerning factor was Julien's age.
He was only eighteen.
As the half-time whistle sounded, the 2-2 scoreline particularly Julien's late equalizer had David Dein and Abdullah laughing uproariously in the executive box.
David slapped his thigh, his voice was filled with excitement: "Look at this! Look at this kid! Two hat-tricks at Anfield last match wasn't enough for him, so today he's produced a brace at Old Trafford. He's an absolute gift from God to Liverpool!"
Abdullah nodded in emotion, "Our pre-season strategy to build the team around Julien was absolutely correct. This talent isn't trained—it's innate! He's Liverpool's most precious asset right now, worth more than any transfer signing. We need to maintain that philosophy."
The two men exchanged knowing smiles, both were harboring enormous expectations.
Abdullah hoped their first venture into English football would achieve significant success.
David had already claimed every Premier League trophy during his career. The ambition buried in his heart was to reach the pinnacle of European football, the summit he'd come within touching distance of once before, his greatest regret.
Now, watching Julien, he glimpsed possibilities even greater than those he'd previously imagined. If he still had any chance of guiding a club to European glory in his lifetime, it would be with this Liverpool side.
The thought brought David's mood down slightly. He found himself thinking of his old colleague; the manager who'd once again declined Liverpool's invitation to take charge, who was unwilling to leave Arsenal. Even without trophies, Arsene Wenger would devote everything to the club he loved most.
David had hoped Arsene wouldn't renew with Arsenal, that they might work together at Liverpool. That was why he'd avoided deep contact with other managers. But now it seemed clear—he would never collaborate with his old friend again.
The half had ended, but the conflict between the two sets of fans was only beginning.
United fans were absolutely seething.
"That was a penalty? Anyone who watched the replay knows that was a dive, not football! If that's a penalty, my nan could get one by coughing in the box!"
Liverpool fans immediately fired back: "Blind, are you? Didn't see Evans stick his leg out? Do United fans only watch their own goal?"
Naturally, plenty of United fans were criticizing their own players as well.
"The right flank's been turned into a sieve by De Rocca! Was Büttner defending a forward or his own father?"
"That touch in stoppage time was completely unnecessary! Giggs sees someone charging at him and doesn't know to release it immediately? Brilliant—he gets dispossessed and gifts them a worldie!"
"I have been saying since ages we should've signed De Rocca! How does it feel now, watching him score a brace for our own rivals?"
Liverpool fans infiltrated the discussion threads, "Rattled, are you? Where were these complaints during the 6-0 last match? Julien played your defense like a training drill. He'll score again in the second half!"
United fans shot back: "Just you wait! Second half we'll adjust and show you who owns Old Trafford!"
This naturally triggered further exchanges.
"United fans were banging on about how a half-time lead meant the job was done. Not so vocal now, are you? De Gea couldn't even touch Julien's strike. Where's your world-class keeper?"
"The referee's having a mare! Henderson clearly pushed Giggs!"
"Stop making excuses when you're losing!"
"Get Büttner off! Stop embarrassing yourself on the pitch!"
"Stop finding excuses, United fans. Julien's simply too good!"
"That penalty was never a foul! De Rocca's just a good actor, conning the ref!"
"I'm betting Julien scores again in the second half! United's defense can't handle him!"
In the United changing room, Moyes cracked his tactical marker against the whiteboard twice, his forehead was furrowed into a knot.
"Stop looking like you've lost your souls. Getting pegged back from two goals up isn't because the opposition are superhuman, it's because our defending has been abysmal."
His finger poked at the right flank, drawing a circle that encompassed Büttner's position. "Büttner, what exactly was your performance out there on the right? You bought every single one of De Rocca's feints, and that yellow card was completely avoidable. I might need to make an adjustment in that position for the second half."
Büttner listened in silence, managing only a nod.
The match had been utterly frustrating for him. Facing Julien had given him the deflating sensation of being crushed by pure talent.
Yes, he'd fallen for the feints, but was it as simple as Moyes made it sound? Did he want to be fooled? If he didn't bite on the feint, Julien would execute the real move! With De Rocca's footwork frequency, Büttner had to admit the truth: he simply couldn't contain him.
After addressing Büttner, Moyes turned his attention to a young defender, Rafael. This was a training academy product purchased from Brazil whom Moyes had promoted to the first team.
"Rafael."
The young Brazilian immediately straightened in his seat.
Moyes observed him briefly, his tone was gentler.
"Get yourself ready. You might get your chance in the second half. When you're on, stick to De Rocca like glue! Press him immediately when he receives the ball, don't give him space to turn. If he cuts inside, block the central channel.
If necessary, track back—just don't let him get a shot away! Midfield needs to provide cover. Evans, Rafael, both of you shift toward the right side. If De Rocca tries to cut central again, someone needs to step up immediately. We can't let him receive the ball comfortably anymore..."
Having addressed the defensive issues, he redirected his marker toward the midfield zone, circling Giggs's position.
"Ryan, that touch in stoppage time was far too casual! When Henderson charged at you, you should've played it immediately to Kagawa, not tried to showboat! Second half, drop your position deeper. Don't push so far forward.
Kagawa, you need to tuck inside more, support the defenders' distribution, control the midfield tempo. Liverpool are living off turnovers and counter-attacks. Gerrard's long ball to find De Rocca happened because our midfield lost their man!"
He then moved to stand before Rooney and Hernández, "Wayne, stop drifting so wide. Pull into central areas, link the forward line. Liverpool's holding midfielders are pushing quite high at the moment—look for the gaps to exploit and send through-balls for Chicharito.
Chicharito, your movement needs improvement. Drag Liverpool's center-backs out of position. Their central defenders are slow to turn. If you can create space in behind, we'll have chances. Keep moving!"
Finally, he placed his marker on the table and observed the entire dressing room, "This is Old Trafford! Our home ground! We can't let Liverpool run riot here! That 6-0 from last match, we haven't settled that score yet. Getting pegged back isn't necessarily bad—it's woken us up!
We start the second half by pressing immediately, reclaim the initiative, grab the first goal, and restore our momentum! De Rocca might be talented, but he's not a god. As long as we neutralize him and execute our attacking play properly, this match still belongs to us!"
The United players nodded in understanding.
Everyone recognized that if they failed to contain De Rocca again in the second half, if they lost control of midfield once more, this North West Derby would genuinely become Liverpool's showcase.
Two consecutive defeats to Liverpool would mean more than just elimination from the League Cup. It would represent humiliation, the shame of losing to their bitter rivals.
They absolutely could not accept that outcome.
Liverpool Dressing Room
At the far end of the tunnel in the away team's changing room, Rodgers was addressing his Liverpool squad with equal intensity.
"Two-two isn't enough. We need more goals!"
"We didn't claw back from two goals down just to settle for a draw at Old Trafford. This is their home ground—we want more goals. We need to show them that the 6-0 at Anfield wasn't the end of this story!"
After delivering that line, his gaze swept across to Julien.
Julien in return gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.
Seeing that nod, Rodgers felt an instinctive sense of relief. Then, in the next moment, he became consciously aware of something significant.
When he'd been sketching tactics moments earlier, he'd instinctively drawn the right-flank breakthrough arrow thicker than the others, that was Julien's most effective zone.
When instructing Henderson to "deliver more through-balls forward," his words had automatically shifted mid-sentence to "watch for Julien's runs."
He'd been doing this for a while now, hadn't he?
From the season opener when Julien had dismantled Stoke City, through the previous Derby's double hat-trick performance, to today's first-half rescue mission with a brace—Rodgers had believed he was simply placing trust in this eighteen-year-old talent.
He hadn't realized that somewhere along the way, he'd quietly begun resting his expectations for victory on Julien's shoulders.
Just like now, when discussing the need for more goals, his eyes naturally settled toward that one player.
This dependency had developed so organically that he hadn't even noticed it happening. But perhaps, he reflected, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
When the half-time interval concluded, both sets of players emerged from their respective dressing rooms for the decisive second-half battle.
The season's second North West Derby was about to reach its conclusion.
As the broadcast cameras focused on the two teams, Gary Neville had recovered from his earlier frustration about surrendering a two-goal lead.
His voice carried brand new optimism: "Liverpool managed to equalize in the first half for two reasons: firstly, we got complacent—Giggs's touch was too casual. Secondly, De Rocca genuinely capitalizes on his chances. But that's not a sustainable pattern!
Second half, can Liverpool replicate that first-half scenario of winning the ball and launching counter-attacks? It looks highly doubtful. Their midfield has one genuine runner in Henderson. Defuse him, and Gerrard's long distribution becomes far more difficult to execute.
In attack, Liverpool's two center-backs are heavy on the turn. We'll definitely create opportunities there, it's just a question of how Rooney and Chicharito handle them.
De Rocca's strike was spectacular, granted, but United won't provide those openings again! Two-two is merely temporary. Once we solidify our defensive structure and execute our attacking movements properly, winning this North West Derby presents no problems at all!"
On the opposite side of the commentary divide, Carragher was typically more emotionally direct: "What adjustments can United make? What Old Trafford atmosphere? None of that matters a damn in a North West Derby!
What matters is that the opposition are Manchester United, our lifelong rivals. Liverpool has never backed down from this fixture, not once in my lifetime!
Last match we hammered them 6-0 at home. Why can't we win again on their patch? Two-two isn't the finish line, it's where we plant our boot on their throat!
North West Derbies were never about tactical distinction. They're about who wants it more, who's got the bollocks to dig deeper! We fought back from two goals down in the first half, and it wasn't mere luck, it was the sheer refusal to lose to Manchester United!
Henderson never stopped pressing, Julien struck that shot through all the boos, even the lads on our bench were screaming their support. That's the spirit we need. Does United have that? They went soft when they were ahead, panicked when they fell behind.
Teams like that don't win North West Derbies.
I played at Liverpool for over a decade, and I know exactly what facing United requires. You've got to make their home ground yours; you've got to silence their fans!
If we maintain that commitment in the second half, if we keep matching them blow for blow, Liverpool versus United only has one acceptable outcome: victory.
Today's no different!"
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