Essien's dismissal left Mourinho with an immediate problem.
How did New Manchester United survive with ten men?
Fortunately, this was not a scenario he had ignored in his preparation.
Before travelling to Barcelona, Mourinho and his staff had worked through almost every likely situation, including the possibility of playing a man down at the Camp Nou.
The circumstances could have been worse.
At least they had been leading when Essien was sent off.
That gave Mourinho a clear starting point.
Michael Johnson was immediately sent to warm up.
There was a reason Mourinho chose him rather than Fàbregas.
Johnson offered more defensive strength, greater physical presence and better coverage without the ball. Against Xavi and Iniesta, introducing Fàbregas would have risked leaving New Manchester United's midfield too lightweight.
Mourinho admired Fàbregas enormously.
His technique was excellent.
His passing range was already exceptional for his age.
His ability to organise possession marked him out as a potentially elite midfielder.
But Mourinho still believed he needed to become more robust.
The Premier League was becoming more technical every year, but physical confrontation remained part of its identity. That would not disappear in a season, or even in a decade.
If Fàbregas wanted to dominate English football, he would eventually have to become harder to unsettle.
The three young midfielders developing behind the first-team regulars each offered something different.
Fàbregas was the most gifted organiser.
Mikel combined technique with strength and defensive discipline.
Michael Johnson was the most balanced of the three.
There was a reason people had begun comparing him with Steven Gerrard.
He could defend.
He could carry the ball.
He could pass over distance.
And when space opened ahead of him, he was comfortable driving forward from midfield.
For the situation at the Camp Nou, he was the obvious choice.
Then, before Mourinho could make the substitution, Barcelona equalised.
Hleb scored.
Mourinho swore under his breath.
The move had developed through precisely the area Essien had been protecting.
Had the Ghanaian still been on the pitch, Mourinho was convinced Barcelona would never have found that space so easily.
He turned towards Johnson.
"Michael."
The youngster hurried over.
"You've been watching for an hour. You know what Daniele's been doing?"
"Yes, boss."
That answer mattered.
New Manchester United's substitutes were expected to watch the match properly.
The bench was not somewhere to switch off.
If Mourinho called on a player, he expected him to understand the game immediately rather than spend five minutes discovering what was happening.
Johnson had followed the match closely.
Mourinho grabbed his shoulder.
"You take Daniele's role."
Johnson nodded.
"Daniele drops into Michael's position."
Another nod.
"And tell Ricardo to move a little closer to the right."
"Understood."
Johnson went to the touchline.
Messi's number appeared.
The Argentine had been excellent.
At seventeen, he had caused Van Bronckhorst constant problems and created Ronaldo's opening goal.
His substitution had nothing to do with performance.
Mourinho simply had to sacrifice an attacker.
Drogba was too important as an outlet.
Ronaldo's pace had become even more valuable now that New Manchester United were defending deeper.
Kaká could still carry the ball over long distances and connect midfield to attack.
That left Messi.
The teenager understood.
He looked disappointed as he came off, but there was no complaint.
He embraced Johnson, then slapped Mourinho's hand as he passed the dugout.
The travelling supporters applauded him warmly.
Messi had already become one of the most popular members of New Manchester United's new generation.
His story had helped with that.
The club's role in supporting his medical treatment as a boy had even inspired elements of the Goal! film project, with parts of his experience adapted into the fictional protagonist's background.
Once Johnson entered, the structure changed.
He occupied the more advanced midfield role De Rossi had been playing earlier.
De Rossi dropped deeper to replace Essien as the principal shield in front of the defence.
Barcelona responded immediately.
Rijkaard instructed Van Bronckhorst to advance more aggressively from left-back, creating overloads with Ronaldinho.
Mourinho reacted just as quickly.
Maicon was ordered to stop joining attacks.
De Rossi shifted more towards the right when Barcelona built down that side.
Johnson dropped closer to the defence.
The entire team retreated several yards.
New Manchester United were now unquestionably defending.
But they were not simply waiting to be attacked.
Johnson's passing made sure of that.
Several times, he collected possession and immediately sent long passes towards Drogba.
On other occasions he bypassed Barcelona's midfield completely and attacked the space behind their defensive line.
Ronaldo was caught offside twice.
Neither move produced a goal.
They still achieved their purpose.
Barcelona could not push forward without consequence.
They had already conceded once after leaving space behind their defence.
They had no desire to do it again.
Rijkaard could see the problem.
Drogba remained an enormous nuisance.
He was not simply strong.
He was quick enough to make Barcelona pay if they defended too high.
A striker with that combination of strength, movement and speed forced the entire back line to remain cautious.
That restraint had consequences elsewhere.
If Barcelona's defenders stayed deeper, the midfield could not press quite as high without leaving dangerous space between the lines.
And if the midfield stayed connected to the defence, Barcelona found it harder to surround New Manchester United's penalty area with numbers.
Mourinho had effectively forced Rijkaard into a compromise.
Attack too aggressively and risk another counter.
Remain balanced and waste the numerical advantage.
Barcelona continued to dominate the ball.
But New Manchester United's deeper shape increasingly cut the connection between Eto'o and the two wide forwards.
De Rossi and Johnson protected the centre.
The full-backs stayed disciplined.
Terry and Curtis defended the penalty area.
Ronaldinho and Hleb still saw plenty of possession, but getting the ball into Eto'o in useful positions became much harder.
That mattered.
Eto'o was a superb striker.
His pace was devastating.
His movement around the penalty area was excellent.
And given chances, he was one of the best finishers in Europe.
But Mourinho believed his greatest strengths were maximised when he had another forward nearby.
As the lone centre-forward in a 4-3-3, the demands were broader.
The striker had to score, link the attack, connect both wings, read where the space would appear and sometimes play with his back to goal.
Eto'o was dangerous in that role.
Drogba offered more tactically.
That was why Mourinho so often preferred the Ivorian to Villa in matches like this.
Villa was the more natural scorer.
Technically, he was cleaner.
His movement around the box was excellent.
But Drogba could change the entire geometry of a defence.
He could occupy two centre-backs.
He could fight for direct balls.
He could drop into midfield.
He could create space without ever touching the ball.
And with New Manchester United down to ten men at the Camp Nou, those qualities were priceless.
As Barcelona became increasingly frustrated, the tension inside the stadium rose.
The clock moved beyond seventy minutes.
The score remained 1-1.
For New Manchester United, that was an excellent result.
An away goal.
A draw.
And the second leg still to come in Manchester.
Barcelona understood the danger just as clearly.
At 1-1, they would arrive in England knowing that a goalless draw would eliminate them.
Rijkaard had to find another goal.
In the 78th minute, he gambled.
Albertini came off.
Maxi López came on.
Barcelona shifted towards a 4-4-2.
The two wide players stayed high.
The full-backs pushed forward.
Eto'o finally had another striker close enough to occupy defenders and combine with him.
The effect was immediate.
With Maxi López providing a reference point, Eto'o became much freer.
Within minutes, Hleb slipped a pass through the right channel.
Eto'o burst clear.
One against one.
Čech flew from his line.
The Cameroonian shot.
Čech reacted instantly, spreading himself and somehow getting a hand to the ball.
It flew behind for a corner.
"What a save!"
The commentator's voice rose.
"Eto'o looked certain to score."
Čech landed heavily, then bounced straight back to his feet.
Terry and Curtis both went over to acknowledge him.
The goalkeeper barely reacted.
He was already organising the defence for the corner.
Mourinho had seen enough.
"Nemanja!"
Vidić sprang from the bench and began warming up.
Barcelona took the corner.
Curtis headed it behind again.
Before the next delivery, Mourinho made the change.
Kaká came off.
Vidić went on.
Ronaldo moved forward alongside Drogba.
New Manchester United effectively became a 5-2-2 without the ball.
Vidić joined Terry and Curtis as the three central defenders.
Evra and Maicon operated as conservative wing-backs.
De Rossi and Johnson protected the middle.
Ronaldo and Drogba stayed higher as outlets for the counterattack.
Barcelona now faced three powerful centre-backs inside the penalty area.
Terry.
Curtis.
Vidić.
They defended with layers.
One attacked the first ball.
Another covered.
The third protected the space behind.
Barcelona kept coming.
Crosses arrived.
Passes were threaded towards the edge of the area.
Ronaldinho tried to create from the left.
Hleb probed from the right.
Eto'o and Maxi López attacked anything loose.
But New Manchester United's defensive block refused to break.
The final minutes became increasingly frantic.
Five minutes of stoppage time were announced.
Five became almost six.
Still the whistle did not come.
Mourinho was furious on the touchline.
His players barely had enough energy left to protest.
They simply kept defending.
One clearance.
Then another.
A blocked cross.
A header away.
A tackle near the corner.
Finally, the referee blew.
Barcelona 1-1 New Manchester United.
Several Red Rebels immediately collapsed onto the pitch.
They had spent nearly forty minutes playing with ten men at the Camp Nou.
By the end, every run hurt.
Every tackle required concentration.
Every Barcelona attack felt as if it might be the one that finally broke them.
It never came.
They had given everything.
And they had earned the result.
The travelling supporters celebrated wildly.
The rest of the Camp Nou was strangely subdued.
There were whistles, but nothing like the fury Mourinho had heard earlier.
The home crowd knew what 1-1 meant.
Barcelona had spent most of the second half with an extra player.
They had home advantage.
They had possession.
They had momentum.
And still they had failed to win.
"Forty minutes against ten men," the commentator said as the cameras showed exhausted New Manchester United players scattered across the pitch.
"Barcelona had almost everything in their favour, yet they could not finish the job."
"New Manchester United will leave here believing they have won something tonight."
"Not the match, obviously."
"But perhaps the tie."
The replay package showed the major refereeing controversies again.
"There will be discussion about the officiating too. New Manchester United can point to several decisions they will consider extremely harsh, particularly Essien's dismissal."
"But whatever anyone thinks of those moments, the visitors' resilience cannot be questioned."
"They came to the Camp Nou, scored an away goal, survived with ten men and earned the right to take this tie back to Manchester level."
"That is an excellent European result."
Rijkaard walked towards the tunnel looking deeply frustrated.
The statistics would tell him Barcelona had controlled the match.
More possession.
More attacks.
More shots.
More time against ten men.
None of it changed the number on the scoreboard.
1-1.
Mourinho looked like a man who had just won a final.
He strode onto the pitch, congratulating players one after another.
He embraced Čech.
Then Terry.
Then Curtis.
De Rossi received a hard slap on the back.
Johnson was pulled into a brief hug.
Even Ronaldo and Drogba, both exhausted from chasing hopeless clearances in the closing minutes, were dragged into the celebration.
The contrast was striking.
Barcelona's players looked as though they had lost.
New Manchester United's looked as though they had conquered the Camp Nou.
That was football.
Control could belong to one team.
The result belonged to both.
Hleb lingered nearby for several seconds.
Then he walked towards Mourinho.
The two embraced.
Hleb congratulated him on the result before seeking out several of his former teammates.
During the match, there had been no sentiment.
Hleb had pressed them.
Run at them.
Scored against them.
He had done everything possible to help Barcelona win.
That was his responsibility as a professional.
Now the match was over.
He could be a friend again.
Mourinho eventually led his players towards the away section.
The squad stood together and applauded the supporters who had travelled from Manchester.
The fans responded by singing even louder.
Players smiled.
Some threw shirts into the crowd.
Others simply stood there soaking up the noise.
Then Mourinho finally turned towards the tunnel.
The smile on his face remained.
It disappeared the moment he saw who was waiting for him.
Andy Walsh.
Cassell.
Neither man looked as though he had come to celebrate.
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
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