England's Greatest

January 26th, 2014

King Power Stadium, Leicester.

The stadium was already packed before the game even started, an anticipation bubbling in the air like a fizzy drink ready to explode. Leicester City fans, clad in their vibrant blue jerseys, filled the stands with chants that echoed off the walls, their voices rising to create an electrifying atmosphere that charged the entire venue. Some fans waved their Blue Fox scarves high, while others draped themselves in flags bearing the club's crest. The energy was contagious, and it filled Tristan with a sense of belonging and excitement.

In the VIP stand, his parents, Ling and Julia, were present for the first time, having made the journey to watch their son's momentous debut in person. The loud singing surrounding the stadium filled them with a mix of pride and excitement. This wasn't their first visit to the King Power Stadium, but this time felt different. Their beloved son was about to make his first start in his professional career!

The thrill of it all enveloped them. Just yesterday, upon learning he was included in the starting lineup, Tristan had called home, his voice barely able to contain his joy. "I'm starting, Mom! You have to be here!" He promptly requested two tickets from the club staff—this was a milestone moment, and he wanted his parents there to witness it together, something he couldn't do for them in his first life.

As they settled into their seats, Ling turned to Julia, her green eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Can you believe he's finally getting this chance?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled by the din of the crowd.

"I know! It feels like just yesterday we were cheering him on in the youth leagues. He's worked so hard for this," Julia replied, a smile spreading across her face. They shared stories of his early days, each memory a testament to his dedication and love for the game.

The atmosphere inside the stadium was palpable, even reaching the visiting team's locker room. The Chelsea players, who were changing, looked relaxed, exuding confidence that stemmed from their previous encounters with Leicester. The team's jokester, Hazard, was shirtless, wearing only shorts, as he twisted his body to the music blaring from his phone. His funny dance moves drew laughter from his teammates, several of whom joined in the impromptu dance party, their laughter and camaraderie underscoring the team spirit that Mourinho had worked so hard to cultivate.

The last time Leicester City and Chelsea met was two years ago in the FA Cup, where Chelsea triumphed 5-2. Historically, the two teams had faced each other five times, and Chelsea had emerged victorious in all of those encounters. Perhaps because of this undefeated streak, the Chelsea players, feeling a psychological edge, seemed at ease, unconcerned about the impending match.

Chelsea's starting lineup featured a mix of mainstays and substitutes, with only Hazard and Lampard as the established stars. Notably, Nemanja Matic, who had just transferred from Benfica for £21 million, was getting his first chance to start. The tall defensive midfielder sat silently in the corner, changing his sneakers while opting out of the dance, his serious demeanor a contrast to the lighthearted atmosphere around him.

Matic had previously been bought by Chelsea for £1.5 million in 2009, but due to fierce competition, he was loaned out to Tevez in the Eredivisie before being sold to Benfica, where he finally found success. After excelling in the Portuguese league and helping Benfica to multiple finals, Matic was brought back by Mourinho, who was intent on reshaping Chelsea's midfield to reflect his tactical vision.

Just as he pondered his role, Mourinho strode into the locker room. The man had a presence that demanded attention, and the chatter died down instantly.

"Turn off the music! Sit down!" he commanded.

The lively atmosphere quickly shifted to focus as Hazard turned off his phone. The players hurried to their seats, all eyes on Mourinho, who stood in front of them like a general surveying his troops.

"Listen, everything that needed to be said and the tactics that needed to be arranged were discussed yesterday. I just want to reiterate that as a team, we must be tough and fight hard! No team is to be underestimated; they will give it their all against us, as they always do."

The weight of his words settled in, a reminder that every match was a battle, and today would be no different.

After his brief lecture, Mourinho turned his attention to Matic. "Nemanja, your task is simple: keep an eye on number 22!"

Matic's expression sharpened as he nodded, "I know, Boss!"

Meanwhile, in the home team's locker room, the atmosphere was more subdued. The starting players, led by Tristan, were focused, each concentrating on their own preparations. It was a rare opportunity for them, especially against a Premier League giant like Chelsea, so nerves were palpable despite the coach's assurances to "just play your best." For many substitutes, this was a chance to showcase their talents, but both Pearson and the players recognized that the game was mainly for development, allowing the main players to rest. Winning or losing was secondary.

After delivering a brief speech, Pearson prepared to attend the pre-match press conference. As he exited the locker room, assistant coach Walsh approached him. "By the way, Nigel, the press officer asked if you want to bring Tristan with you to the press conference. What do you think?"

Pearson frowned at the suggestion. Since the FA Cup began, Tristan's remarkable performances have garnered significant media attention. While he was proud, he was also wary. He had seen young players become overhyped after just a few good games and lose their way.

"I don't want the media hype to go to his head. He's still young," Pearson replied, shaking his head.

Upon entering the packed press room, Pearson was struck by the throng of reporters. He realized they were not there for him but for another figure. Just as he took a seat, Chelsea manager Mourinho strode in, drawing all cameras and attention.

Click, click! Flashbulbs erupted as the focus shifted solely to him. It was no surprise; Mourinho was a controversial figure who often made headlines. His relationship with the media was one of a zookeeper among hungry animals, and they were eager for his every word.

Dressed sharply in a suit and long overcoat, Mourinho exuded authority. He greeted Pearson with a handshake. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay, I just got here too," Pearson replied, slightly surprised by the other coach's politeness.

The pre-match press conference began. A reporter from the Mercury was first to ask Pearson a question. "What is the difference between facing a higher-level Premier League team and a Championship team?"

"There's no difference. We will give it our all against any opponent. This isn't our first encounter with a Premier League team," Pearson responded confidently, his voice steady.

The Daily Telegraph reporter was next. "First of all, José, happy birthday to you!"

Today, January 26, 2014, marked Mourinho's 51st birthday.

"Thank you! You're the seventh or eighth person to say that today. But I'd rather celebrate with a victory!" Mourinho quipped, prompting clicks from the cameras as reporters eagerly noted his words.

"Do you feel confident about this game?" another reporter pressed, pushing for a soundbite.

"Of course! I want us to control the game from the first minute, but it won't be easy. Leicester City is a team that can't be underestimated. Their position at the top of the Championship speaks volumes about their potential," Mourinho replied, his tone unwavering.

"Mr. Mourinho, what do you think of number 22 from Leicester City?"

"I know him. I've watched his game videos. He's a good young player, especially with his ball handling," Mourinho stated. "In the last round of the FA Cup, he scored two goals and provided an assist against Stoke City. Do you think this 18-year-old player will pose a challenge for your team?"

"I trust my players," Mourinho stated confidently, allowing a hint of a smile to break through his stern demeanor.

As the press conference concluded, both coaches returned to their locker rooms for final preparations before the match. The players from both teams gathered in the tunnel, anticipation thick in the air. Tristan, standing at the back of the lineup for his first start, maintained a calm exterior, though inside, he was brimming with excitement. He glanced over at the Chelsea team beside them, acutely aware of the star-studded lineup that included familiar names: "Eden Hazard," "Frank Lampard," "Ashley Cole," "Branislav Ivanović," "Fernando Torres," "David Luiz," "Matic," and "Willian."

Each name echoed in his mind, amplifying the pressure but also his resolve. This was his moment, and he wasn't going to shy away from it. Even with numerous rotations, Chelsea's starting eleven was formidable, a blend of experience and talent that had proven their worth time and time again. The talent of Hazard alone rivaled the entire Leicester City team's worth.

Standing in the tunnel, Tristan felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, as if he were in another world. The Premier League stars he had only seen on TV were now mere feet away. Their banter echoed in his ears, blending with the roar of the crowd. He took a deep breath, ready for the challenge ahead.