Watching the match unfold exactly as he’d planned, Mourinho, seated in the away dugout, let a faint smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
He’d started Lampard, a more attack-minded midfielder, over the defensively solid Mikel or Ramires.
He had his reasons.
Yes, they were at Leicester’s home ground.
But given the gap in quality, Mourinho meant to flip the script.
He wanted to hit them hard at the King Power Stadium, catch them off guard, and score early.
Once they had the goal, he’d switch to his deadliest weapon: the counter-attack.
From there, they could hold the advantage.
In this setup, Lampard was given the freedom to push forward aggressively.
He’d almost play as a second striker behind Torres, a role that would fully unleash his late runs into the box and his lethal finishing.
That left Matić, the holding midfielder, with the bulk of the defensive duties.
And among those duties, Mourinho had given him a direct, absolute order: shut down Leo Hale.
In Mourinho’s mind, if they could neutralize Leo, Leicester’s main outlet, their central attack would collapse.
They’d have to rely on the wings to break through.
And Chelsea’s full-backs?
Ashley Cole and Ivanović were two of the toughest defenders in the Premier League.
Leicester wouldn’t find it easy to break through from the flanks.
This aggressive, proactive approach had caught Leicester completely off guard.
After watching hours of Chelsea’s match footage, Leicester manager Nigel Pearson had concluded that Mourinho’s teams always started cautiously.
They usually sat back first, never launching a full-scale assault right from the whistle.
Every single one of his pre-match tactics had been built on that foundation.
He never expected Chelsea to come out swinging like this.
“That Portuguese bastard is a piece of work!” “Got to tighten up fast.
We need to weather this storm!” But before Pearson could even reach the touchline to shout his orders, the situation on the pitch shifted.
Hazard, tearing down the left flank, had already made a mess of Leicester’s right-back De Laet and central midfielder Andy King.
The two of them were being run ragged, completely outclassed.
With no other choice, the center-back had to slide over to help cover.
But as Hazard used a slick feint to cut inside the box, the young 20-year-old center-back Liam Moore panicked.
His challenge was wild and clumsy.
He stuck out a leg to poke the ball away but instead caught Hazard square on the shin.
The Chelsea number seventeen let out a sharp cry and crumpled to the turf.
A split second later, referee Paul Tierney, who had a clear view of the whole thing, blew his whistle and pointed straight to the penalty spot.
“Penalty!” “Hazard’s been brought down inside the box.
The referee’s given a penalty!” “What a penalty-drawing machine!” In his first Premier League season last year, Hazard had drawn more penalties from his dribbling than any other player in the league.
And now, he’d brought that same weapon to the FA Cup.
The moment the referee made the call, the tens of thousands of home fans inside the King Power Stadium erupted in a deafening, unified chorus of boos.
They didn’t care that Hazard was still lying on the grass, clutching his leg, his face twisted in pain.
They went straight for the jugular.
“Oh, no!” “What the hell was that kid thinking?!
Why did he stick his leg out?!” “Fuck!
That’s a dive!” The foul was clear-cut.
The replay on the big screen showed exactly what happened.
Moore had stuck his leg out and tripped Hazard.
Still, as captain, Morgan rushed over to argue with the referee.
And Moore, who’d been fighting for a rare start, pleaded desperately, trying to explain that Hazard had run into him, that it wasn’t his fault.
But Paul Tierney was unmoved.
He confirmed the penalty and pulled out a yellow card for Moore.
Waving the Leicester players away, he signaled for Chelsea to take the spot kick.
Chelsea’s designated penalty taker was Lampard.
The highest-scoring midfielder in England’s history didn’t waste the chance.
He stepped up and buried it.
A powerful, driven strike, rifled low into the bottom left corner of the net.
Kasper Schmeichel could only watch it fly past.
Less than eight minutes in, and Chelsea had taken the lead through Lampard’s penalty.
“One-nil!” “A dream start for the visitors, Chelsea!” As the Chelsea players celebrated by the corner flag, captain Morgan and Vardy were already clapping their hands, rallying their deflated teammates.
“Forget it!
The game’s just started!” “Yeah, we’ve still got time!” “Wake up!” With the shouts of his teammates and the songs of the away fans echoing around him, Leo’s mind kicked into overdrive.
In that moment, he had only one thought.
How was he going to help his team beat Chelsea and win this match?
…
Ever since his journey began, even with the Green Legend System in his corner, Leo had never put all his faith in it.
To him, the System was just a catalyst.
It helped him get stronger, faster.
To truly become a top professional, he had to put in the sweat and the work himself.
And playing football, well, it wasn’t just about using your feet.
You had to use your head.
So, whether in training or in a match, Leo was always thinking.
Always analyzing.
How should he move to set up his next touch?
How should he pass to create a direct threat?
How should he run to offer better support to his teammates?
That constant, active thinking had given Leo a crystal-clear understanding of his own strengths and weaknesses.
His strengths: elite passing accuracy, a wide range of passing techniques, world-class off-the-ball movement, and incredible stamina.
His weaknesses: poor physicality, average defensive skills, average technical dribbling, and average finishing.
Looking at the different types of midfielders in the modern game, Leo saw himself as an advanced playmaker.
A classic number ten.
His job was to minimize his own dribbling, link up the attack, and use his passing to create chances and threaten the goal.
And he knew, right now, his physicality was nowhere near enough.
He couldn’t hold off the towering Matić.
Hell, he couldn’t even outmuscle Oscar, who was probably the least physical player in Chelsea’s midfield.
So, with Matić shadowing his every move, how was he supposed to break free?
Thankfully, this wasn’t Leo’s first time being man-marked.
In the last game against Leeds United, their defensive midfielder had done the same thing.
But he’d still delivered a goal and an assist, a perfect performance that won them the game.
He could use the same method now.
The solution was simple: drop deep, and swap positions.
If he dropped back into his own half to receive the ball, Matić, as the lone holding midfielder, wouldn’t dare follow him.
Because if he did, he’d leave a massive gap in the middle of Chelsea’s formation.
And if Matić didn’t follow him, Leo could swap with Mahrez on the right wing.
From there, facing the goal, he could deliver his deadly passes into the box.
But this plan needed his teammates.
With that thought, Leo waved over at Mahrez and called out.
“Riyad!
Come here!” 30+ chapters are available now and daily updates!