Football has always possessed a peculiar kind of unpredictability.
And much of that unpredictability comes from the people involved.
New Manchester United's biggest victory of the season had been the 7-0 demolition of Manchester City.
Nobody had expected a scoreline like that.
Yet in hindsight, the foundations of the result had been laid before kick-off, from the moment Kevin Keegan decided to push his side high and press aggressively.
People later called him foolish.
After Newcastle had already been punished so heavily for trying something similar, why would Keegan expose his team in the same way?
But football judged decisions by outcomes.
What if Manchester City had won?
What if the gamble had worked?
Keegan would have been praised for bravery, for tactical courage, for catching the champions by surprise.
Instead, he lost.
So the same decision became stupidity.
That was football.
Before every match, managers were not simply arranging formations.
They were trying to read one another.
Guessing intentions.
Predicting reactions.
Setting traps.
Capello's declaration that Juventus would win 2-0 in Manchester belonged to the same game.
Did he truly believe it?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
Mourinho had no interest in wasting time trying to interpret every word.
That was exactly how mind games worked.
Think too deeply about them and you had already allowed your opponent inside your head.
Mourinho cared about only two things.
What would Juventus actually do?
And how could New Manchester United use the first leg at home to put themselves in the strongest possible position before Turin?
Nobody wanted to travel to Italy needing a result.
If there was an opportunity to take control of the tie in Manchester, Mourinho wanted to seize it.
Capello had also announced his starting eleven in advance.
Buffon in goal.
Jonathan Zebina, Thuram, Montero and Zambrotta across the defence.
Camoranesi, Davids, Appiah and Nedvěd in midfield.
Del Piero and David Trezeguet up front.
At the same time, Capello publicly dismissed reports linking Trezeguet with Arsenal.
The rumours claimed the French striker was considering following the path once taken by Henry and Vieira, leaving Juventus for north London in search of a fresh start.
There was even speculation that Arsenal might finance the move by selling Henry for an enormous fee.
None of the clubs or players involved had confirmed anything.
For now, it remained noise.
Everything Capello did before the match projected confidence.
He seemed entirely comfortable with the draw.
Which led to the obvious question.
Had he really found something?
Mourinho knew perfectly well that New Manchester United had weaknesses.
Every team did.
The difference between strong and weak sides was rarely the absence of flaws.
It was whether they could make their strengths matter more.
Before the match, Mourinho stood in front of his players in the dressing room.
"Capello says Juventus will beat us by two goals."
A few players smiled.
Mourinho did too.
"I don't consider that an insult."
He paused.
"I consider it an insult to mathematics."
Laughter spread around the room.
"Serie A has played twenty-nine rounds."
Mourinho began pacing.
"In twenty-one of Juventus's matches, the difference between them and the opposition has been one goal or less."
He raised a finger.
"That includes draws and defeats."
Then another.
"In fourteen of those matches, Juventus scored one goal or none."
He looked around the room.
"And they are top of Serie A."
The point was obvious.
"So when Capello predicts a two-goal victory here, understand what he's doing."
Mourinho shrugged.
"He's talking."
"Nothing more."
"If his words bother you, answer them properly."
He pointed towards the door.
"On the pitch."
The mood immediately lightened.
A few players began grinning.
Someone muttered that Juventus were going to regret coming to Manchester.
Mourinho let the atmosphere settle before continuing.
"This is our ground."
"We have to attack."
"There is no alternative."
His tone became more serious.
"Capello will defend."
"I guarantee it."
"He is not coming here to play an open match."
"He will keep his lines compact, protect the middle and wait for us to become impatient."
Mourinho held up two fingers.
"He says two goals."
"So let's give him two."
A few smiles returned.
"But we start immediately."
"No waiting twenty minutes to understand the match."
"No allowing Juventus to settle."
"From the first whistle, we go after them."
The starting eleven reflected that idea.
Čech started in goal.
Evra, Terry, Curtis and Maicon formed the back four.
In midfield, Mourinho selected three players.
De Rossi.
Beckham.
Essien.
Kaká operated from the right half-space rather than as a conventional central attacking midfielder.
Ronaldo started from the left with freedom to move inside.
Drogba led the line.
Messi was left on the bench.
He had been trusted regularly in the league and had already shown he could perform at the highest level.
But this was a different kind of match.
A Champions League quarter-final.
One mistake could shape the entire tie.
One poor performance could bring a week of criticism.
Mourinho had no doubts about Messi's talent.
He was protecting the player as much as the team.
There was no need to place every burden on a seventeen-year-old simply because he was capable of carrying some of them.
The front three of Ronaldo, Drogba and Kaká offered enough attacking threat.
And the midfield trio behind them gave Mourinho greater security.
Using De Rossi, Beckham and Essien also freed the full-backs.
Evra and Maicon could push forward knowing there was enough cover behind them.
That allowed New Manchester United to create width without sacrificing too much defensive balance.
It was the most complete structure Mourinho believed he could field for this particular opponent.
Strong enough to attack.
Strong enough to survive transitions.
And the plan was clear.
Start fast.
Push Juventus backwards.
Score before they could settle.
From the opening whistle, New Manchester United did exactly that.
Capello, as Mourinho had expected, began cautiously.
Juventus wanted stability.
Their players possessed enormous European experience.
Almost every member of the side had played high-pressure knockout football before.
New Manchester United's squad, for all its talent, could not match them in that respect.
Mourinho therefore avoided demanding an all-out press across the entire pitch.
Against Juventus, that would have been wasteful.
They were too experienced to panic simply because players chased them everywhere.
Instead, New Manchester United pushed the defensive line higher and compressed the space in midfield.
Del Piero and Trezeguet were both dangerous forwards.
Neither, however, was the type to spend ninety minutes threatening the space behind a high line with raw pace.
That made the approach viable.
Juventus immediately looked uncomfortable.
Davids received the ball in midfield and was pressed aggressively by Kaká.
His first touch escaped him.
New Manchester United recovered possession.
Drogba received near the edge of the penalty area and shot powerfully.
Buffon held comfortably.
No goal.
But the message had been delivered.
New Manchester United intended to dictate the tempo.
Three minutes later, the pressure created another opportunity.
Zambrotta tried to shield the ball near his own byline.
Maicon refused to give up the chase.
He pressed from behind, forced the mistake and won possession.
The Brazilian laid the ball back towards Essien.
Essien found Beckham.
Beckham looked up once.
Diagonal pass.
Straight into the space behind the Juventus defence.
Ronaldo accelerated past Zebina.
He reached the ball first and drove a low shot towards the far corner.
Buffon reacted superbly.
Strong hand.
Corner.
The crowd rose.
New Manchester United were already playing at the pace Mourinho wanted.
On the opposite touchline, Capello stood with his arms folded.
Occasionally he stepped forward to give an instruction.
Otherwise he remained remarkably calm.
He trusted his defence.
That confidence lasted only a few more minutes.
In the fourth minute, Beckham collected possession outside the penalty area and curled a long-range effort towards goal.
Buffon could not hold it cleanly.
He pushed the ball behind.
Another corner.
Beckham walked across to take it.
This time he changed the delivery.
Near post.
Curtis attacked the first ball and flicked it on.
Kaká appeared between defenders.
He stooped low and glanced the header towards goal.
Buffon had no time to react.
Net.
1-0.
The stadium exploded.
Kaká sprinted away, pointing towards the sky.
His lips moved in prayer.
It had become one of the most familiar celebrations in English football.
On the touchline, Mourinho punched the air.
This was exactly the beginning he had wanted.
Juventus were behind.
Now the match would begin moving in the direction he had prepared for.
Capello barely reacted.
No anger.
No visible frustration.
He simply watched.
His players were experienced enough not to panic.
Within moments, Juventus had reorganised.
They began defending more compactly, trying to absorb New Manchester United's pressure and wait for the game to settle.
Mourinho refused to let that happen.
"Again!"
He waved his players forward.
The goal changed nothing.
New Manchester United kept attacking.
"Their football is very direct tonight," Martin Tyler observed. "Quick, simple and aggressive."
Andy Gray nodded.
"And look at the shape."
"Mourinho has sacrificed a conventional right winger, but that doesn't mean he's given up the flank."
"Kaká starts inside, Essien can move across, and Maicon overlaps."
"When those three combine, New Manchester United can create a local three-against-two almost instantly."
"The same thing happens on the other side with Ronaldo and Evra."
Tyler agreed.
"No matter how Mourinho changes the formation, one principle remains. They want numerical superiority around the ball."
That was precisely what Juventus were struggling with.
Whenever Maicon advanced, Kaká drifted closer.
Essien supported underneath.
Juventus's left side was pinned back.
On the opposite flank, Ronaldo's movement forced Zebina to defend deeper than Capello wanted.
New Manchester United were making Juventus react.
The tempo made things worse.
Capello's side preferred control.
Mourinho's players were denying them time to establish it.
Mistakes followed.
In the 11th minute, Zambrotta gave the ball away again.
Kaká collected near the right touchline.
He checked onto his left foot and whipped a low ball into the penalty area.
Drogba attacked it from close range.
Shot.
Buffon somehow got a hand to it.
Corner.
Mourinho nearly jumped out of his technical area.
Drogba had done almost everything right.
His finishing had improved enormously over the previous two seasons.
He was no Van Nistelrooy, but he was comfortably good enough to score at the highest level.
This time the problem was not the striker.
It was Buffon.
The Juventus goalkeeper was producing an exceptional performance.
Mourinho immediately signalled for the pressure to continue.
He could feel the match beginning to change.
Juventus were slowly recovering.
If New Manchester United allowed the game to settle at 1-0, Capello would gladly accept it.
A single away goal later would transform the tie.
Mourinho wanted another before Juventus regained control.
The chance came in the 17th minute.
Beckham switched possession towards the left.
Ronaldo received.
Zebina closed him down.
Ronaldo attacked immediately.
One touch outside.
Then acceleration.
He beat the defender for pace and tried to drive inside.
Zebina recovered just enough to block the route towards goal.
Ronaldo recycled the ball backwards.
Evra had already arrived.
The Frenchman looked up and delivered an angled cross from deep.
Drogba rose against Thuram.
Powerful header.
Buffon reacted again.
Both fists.
Clearance.
But not far enough.
The ball dropped towards the edge of the area.
Montero moved to meet it.
Kaká got there first.
He swung his weaker left foot through the ball.
Low.
Clean.
Into the corner.
2-0.
The stadium shook.
Kaká wheeled away again.
Two goals inside seventeen minutes.
Mourinho finally allowed himself to breathe.
He charged from the technical area and met Kaká near the touchline, embracing him briefly before turning back towards the bench.
High fives followed.
Coaches.
Substitutes.
Staff.
For the first time that evening, Mourinho looked genuinely relaxed.
Martin Tyler laughed softly on commentary.
"Perhaps the match has already changed completely."
In a sense, it had.
Because Mourinho and Capello were not opposites.
They were remarkably similar.
Both understood knockout football.
Both valued control over spectacle.
Both knew that a two-legged tie was not won by entertaining the crowd for ninety minutes.
And neither had any intention of taking unnecessary risks once the match moved into a favourable position.
New Manchester United had spent the opening twenty minutes attacking ferociously.
Now they were two goals ahead.
That was enough.
Mourinho began signalling for his players to lower the tempo.
The defensive line dropped a few yards.
The full-backs became more selective.
The midfield compacted.
The reckless pressure disappeared.
Predictably, some pundits would criticise the change afterwards.
They would call it conservative.
Negative.
Unambitious.
Mourinho would not care.
From the moment he selected three central midfielders, anyone paying attention should have understood what he wanted.
Twenty minutes of devastating attacking football had given New Manchester United a 2-0 lead.
The rest of the evening was about keeping it.
Anyone demanding ninety minutes of uninterrupted attacking chaos was probably better off playing a video game.
(To be continued.)
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