During the intermission, the Liverpool players all returned to the locker room. Everyone wore an excited smile, and it was clear that they were satisfied with the result of the first half. Rafael Benítez's tactical setup had been completely correct, thoroughly disrupting Barcelona's original tactical deployment.
In fact, ever since Henk ten Cate left Barcelona, Frank Rijkaard's in-game tactical responses had been repeatedly criticized. Especially in matches against strong opponents, Barcelona's tactical adjustments could even be described as ineffective. For example, in their away match against Real Madrid, Barcelona lost 0–2 to Fabio Capello's side. The same pattern appeared in their home defeat to Atlético Madrid and their away loss to Valencia, both of which were disappointing results.
In the two UEFA Champions League group matches against Chelsea, Barcelona drew 2–2 at home and lost 0–1 away, failing once again to deliver a convincing performance. Rijkaard's lack of targeted tactical adjustments had become an obvious problem, and tonight was no exception.
Of course, for a team like Barcelona, it is not necessary to tailor their approach obsessively to every opponent. What matters more is whether they can play at their natural level while facing targeted opposition. Even so, Barcelona were unable to do that. Although the first half ended 1–1, from a purely tactical perspective, Barcelona had already been outplayed.
...
Yang Yang had been at Liverpool for only half a year, yet he genuinely admired Rafael Benítez's tactical acumen. Whether facing Chelsea under José Mourinho, Manchester United led by Alex Ferguson, or an opponent as formidable as Barcelona, Benítez always had a method to suppress the opposition at a tactical level.
If one insisted on pointing out any shortcomings in Benítez, it would undoubtedly be his lack of smoothness in interpersonal matters. He was overly obsessed with football itself, often blunt in communication, and not particularly adept at managing relationships, both inside and outside the dressing room.
These, however, were precisely the areas in which Pako Ayestarán excelled. Together, the two complemented each other perfectly, forming a balanced partnership that combined tactical rigor with human management, not unlike the pairing of Frank Rijkaard and Henk ten Cate in their best years.
Because of this, Yang Yang felt strongly that Benítez could not afford to lose Ayestarán. Without him, the consequences might mirror what had happened after Ten Cate's departure from Rijkaard's side, when balance was lost and results began to suffer. No one is perfect, and football has always been a profession built on collective effort. That truth applies just as much off the pitch as it does on it.
...
Rafael Benítez walked into the locker room. As always, his face was cold and expressionless, almost mechanical, as if emotions had nothing to do with him at all. If Yang Yang had not just seen him celebrating the goal moments earlier—clearly excited, even smiling—he might truly have believed that his manager was some kind of emotionless machine.
Benítez began by addressing the problems from the first half. Most of what he pointed out concerned small details—positional discipline, timing of movement, spacing between the lines, and coordination during transitions.
As for Mohamed Sissoko's mistake, he deliberately said nothing, clearly aware of the Malian midfielder's emotional state and unwilling to single him out publicly.
"In general," Benítez said calmly, his voice flat but steady, "when a team has the upper hand in a match, it is unlikely they will make major adjustments after halftime. Changing your style when you believe you are in control often leads to losing that control. Most coaches will not take that risk."
He then moved on to his assessment of Barcelona's likely approach in the second half.
"The score is 1–1, but Barcelona still feel they are controlling the match," he continued. "However, just before the break, they ran into problems and conceded from our counterattack. Because of that, I don't think Frank Rijkaard will make big changes—especially not substitutions."
All the players, Yang Yang included, listened attentively, nodding as they followed his reasoning.
"As for the minor tactical details they might adjust," Benítez went on, "those are hard to predict. But there are two things we must do ourselves."
His tone sharpened noticeably.
"First, our pressing must be faster and more aggressive, especially on their centre-backs. Rafael Márquez and Carles Puyol were too comfortable in the first half. That has to change."
At that point, Pako Ayestarán stepped forward to expand on the idea.
"Víctor Valdés has always been unstable," Ayestarán said. "He's not a reliable goalkeeper. Barcelona's possession starts from the back, through the centre-backs, so we must disrupt their build-up. Pressure Márquez, pressure Puyol—and don't allow Valdés to settle on the ball."
Benítez had always been concise, focusing on the core principles. Ayestarán, meanwhile, filled in the details. Together, they broke down responsibilities clearly, making sure every player understood his specific role.
"Second," Benítez continued, "when we counterattack, we must be quicker. But at the same time, our overall structure must remain compact. Attack and defence cannot become disconnected. That is the foundation. Without it, we will concede again."
During their preparations in Portugal, Liverpool had drilled this principle repeatedly. Maintaining a compact shape in both attack and defence had always been Benítez's priority, and the players were well aware of how much he valued it.
"Our goal at the end of the first half came from speed," Benítez said evenly.
At those words, several players instinctively turned to look at Yang Yang. Steven Gerrard and Xabi Alonso exchanged smiles, as if silently saying: that one was yours.
Benítez was never generous with praise in the dressing room. For him to acknowledge it at all already counted as a compliment.
Having covered everything he wanted to address, he paused briefly before adding one final reminder.
"Listen," Benítez said firmly. "A 1–1 score gives us confidence, but it is nothing to relax about. This is Camp Nou. It is Barcelona's home."
His gaze swept across the room.
"Tonight, you are facing the strongest team in the UEFA Champions League—the reigning champions. A draw is not enough. Even a one-goal lead does not guarantee qualification. We must stay fully focused and play every minute at our highest level."
Gerrard stood up immediately and nodded hard.
One by one, the others followed—some nodding silently, others responding aloud—fully prepared for the second half.
...
...
The second half of the match began. As Rafael Benítez had anticipated, Barcelona's tactical approach showed little change.
There were no adjustments in personnel, and their overall setup largely continued the patterns from the first half.
Liverpool, however, were clearly different from before the break. As early as their preparations in Portugal, Benítez had made it clear that his plan for this match would not be purely defensive.
Even at the Camp Nou, he was aiming to seize an away goal while preserving hope for the return leg at Anfield. His weapon for that away goal was reserved for the second half.
If Liverpool's first-half approach had been about stabilizing the defence and growing accustomed to Barcelona's rhythm, then their second-half plan was about adaptation—reading the moment, stepping up decisively, and striking at the opponent's throat.
Just one minute after the restart, Liverpool began to press step by step. Thiago Motta committed a foul on Mohamed Sissoko, conceding a free kick deep in Barcelona's half.
Steven Gerrard chose to shoot directly, forcing Víctor Valdés into a save and momentarily pushing Barcelona into danger.
Liverpool's pressure did not ease, and the match quickly fell into their rhythm. Barcelona's attacking play was stifled, and they struggled to open the game up.
On the wings, Ronaldinho and Lionel Messi had already been restrained in the first half by Steve Finnan and Álvaro Arbeloa, effectively cutting off Barcelona's two primary attacking outlets.
In the middle, their attempts to play through were repeatedly intercepted by Xabi Alonso and Sissoko.
As for the full-backs, Juliano Belletti was occupied with marking Yang Yang, while Gianluca Zambrotta was pinned back by Dirk Kuyt.
It could be said that Barcelona's entire attacking structure had been contained by Liverpool. The first half had already failed to produce a breakthrough, and the situation only worsened after the restart.
Frank Rijkaard was clearly troubled by his team's sluggish offence. Throughout the opening stages of the second half, he paced back and forth in the technical area, his body language betraying mounting tension and frustration.
Ten minutes in, he could wait no longer and made the first substitution of the match.
Andrés Iniesta replaced Thiago Motta. With that change, Barcelona's midfield trio became Xavi, Iniesta, and Deco, with Xavi still positioned deepest.
Without Motta's height and physical presence, Barcelona's midfield could only continue to circulate the ball along the ground. That adjustment further played into Liverpool's intentions, and as a result, Benítez remained unmoved on the touchline.
...
Yang Yang felt it clearly on the pitch. Barcelona still enjoyed the majority of possession, yet the match itself was firmly under the control of Liverpool.
The reason a possession-based passing game can crush an opponent is not the ball itself, but the constant creation of threat. If a team dominates possession without producing danger, that control becomes dangerous instead. Too much sterile possession slowly poisons the mentality of the team holding the ball, breeding impatience and unease.
Since the start of the second half, both sides had fallen into a stalemate. Neither team was able to create clear chances, but the atmosphere on the pitch was becoming increasingly heavy. Yang Yang understood what this meant. This was a test for both teams. Whoever failed to endure it—whoever made the first mistake—would be the one to lose.
Liverpool continued to execute the manager's instructions without hesitation. They did so because the plan was working.
In the sixty-fifth minute, Barcelona made their second substitution of the match. Yang Yang saw the fourth official raise the substitution board on the touchline. He did not even need to look closely to know what this signified. Barcelona were already anxious, and Frank Rijkaard was clearly losing his composure.
The reason was simple.
Liverpool had not made a single substitution.
A substitution exists for only one purpose: to change the direction of a match. When Rijkaard had already made two changes while the other side remained completely unmoved, the contrast was obvious. Liverpool held the advantage not only tactically, but psychologically as well.
At the heart of that advantage was Yang Yang's goal at the end of the first half. Without that goal, Barcelona would not have been forced into such urgency.
In the sixty-fifth minute, Rijkaard replaced Xavi with Ludovic Giuly.
It was a switch to a 4-4-2 formation.
A desperate move.
Rafael Benítez was forced to respond. Steven Gerrard dropped deeper to strengthen the defensive line and protect the space in front of the back four.
Even then, Liverpool still made no substitutions.
After the change, Barcelona tried to raise the tempo. They pushed higher up the pitch and played with greater urgency, hoping to overwhelm Liverpool through sustained pressure.
But despite their intent, they still could not find a clean way through.
Liverpool's defensive shape remained compact and disciplined. The distances between the lines were tight, passing lanes were closed, and Barcelona were repeatedly forced to recycle possession. As the minutes ticked by, the risk in Barcelona's build-up from the back became more and more apparent.
In the seventieth minute, that risk finally turned into a problem.
Under pressure from Peter Crouch, Carles Puyol retreated toward his own penalty area. With little time to think, he turned and played a hurried back pass with his right foot.
Crouch immediately followed the ball, accelerating toward Víctor Valdés.
A sharp whistle suddenly cut through the noise.
The Greek referee, Kyros Vassaras, sprinted straight toward Barcelona's penalty area.
For a brief moment, both teams froze.
Yang Yang, who had already started tracking back, instinctively slowed his run. He had assumed Valdés would clear the ball with his feet. Crouch, however, kept pressing, then abruptly stopped. He spread his arms, grinned, and pulled a face toward his teammates.
Something was wrong.
"Oh my god—what a mistake from Valdés!"
"Under pressure, Puyol plays it back, and Crouch closes him down immediately—"
"And Valdés picks it up!"
"A terrible error!"
The Barcelona goalkeeper had instinctively handled the ball inside his own penalty area. He had forgotten—or misjudged—that the pass had come directly from his teammate's foot.
It was a clear infringement.
A shockingly basic mistake.
The live broadcast immediately cut to the touchline. Rijkaard's face looked tense and deeply troubled.
"Rijkaard must be extremely depressed right now. He never expected that a simple back pass with little apparent danger would end with his team gifting the opponent an indirect free kick inside the penalty area. This is a very dangerous situation."
"Of course, we must also acknowledge the pressure Barcelona are under. Liverpool's pressing has been relentless. Puyol's back pass lacked quality, Valdés was forced to step forward to receive it, and Crouch pressed him step by step. Under that pressure, Valdés clearly panicked and instinctively picked up the ball."
All around Camp Nou, loud boos rang out. The crowd were clearly furious at such a foolish mistake. Valdés lowered his head, his body language full of frustration.
"Vassaras has awarded an indirect free kick inside the penalty area. This is a huge opportunity for Liverpool."
"Of course, Barcelona are not without hope. The ball is on the right side of the box, almost perpendicular to the edge of the six-yard area, roughly level with the penalty spot. The angle is slightly narrow, making a direct attempt difficult."
"According to the rules, an indirect free kick inside the penalty area cannot result in a goal unless the ball touches another player first."
...
Every Liverpool player flooded into Barcelona's penalty area.
The sudden opportunity had caught everyone by surprise. An indirect free kick inside the box was rare, chaotic, and potentially devastating.
The referee carefully placed the ball, then raised his arm, signalling that Barcelona were allowed to form a wall. The wall was positioned just in front of the six-yard box, slightly to the right of centre.
It was close. Very close.
Close enough to decide the tie.
If Liverpool scored here, they would not only take the lead, but also deliver a crushing psychological blow to Barcelona at the Camp Nou. Yet everyone understood how difficult this chance truly was.
"This spot is awkward," Dirk Kuyt muttered, studying the angle with a frown.
"Too close, and too much traffic," Peter Crouch added, rubbing his chin. "If you shoot, you need real height and curve. You can't go around the wall—you have to clear it."
Steven Gerrard nodded. "And the angle's bad. For a right-footed player, the only option is the near corner. Look at Víctor Valdés—he's already cheating that side."
"Steven's right," Xabi Alonso agreed. "Only a left-footer can really open this up."
Normally, Liverpool had several left-footed options—Riise, Aurelio, Luis García—but none of them were on the pitch. And even if they had been, this was not a chance for anyone without supreme control and confidence.
Indirect free kicks inside the box looked terrifying. In reality, they were brutally difficult.
"What do you think, Yang?" Gerrard asked, noticing that Yang Yang had remained silent.
Yang Yang was not looking at the goal.
He was staring at the wall.
"Nothing special," he said with a grin. "I'm just thinking… the wall's a bit short."
For a moment, everyone laughed.
This was a discussion about scoring at Camp Nou, and he was judging Barcelona's wall?
Then the smiles froze.
Short wall.
Above the head.
Suddenly, the idea became obvious.
"Xabi," Yang Yang asked casually, "can you do it?"
Xabi Alonso shook his head after a quick glance. "If I take it, I'd rather lay it off. Shooting cleanly over that wall from here—I wouldn't back myself."
They were professionals. They knew their limits.
One by one, the players turned toward Yang Yang.
Everyone knew he was comfortable with both feet, his left almost as precise as his right.
Yang Yang felt the weight of their gazes. He took a breath, then nodded.
"Alright," he said with a half-smile. "I'll take it."
Barcelona were already organising. There was no time to waste.
"No objections," Gerrard said. "How do you want to do it?"
Yang Yang spoke quickly. "You two—" he nodded at Crouch and Kuyt, "—go left. Drag their tall players with you. Xabi, stay outside the box. Steven, tap it to me. Dead ball, straight in front."
"And then?" Gerrard asked.
"I hit it."
Simple. Direct. Confident.
They moved immediately.
Gerrard and Yang Yang stood over the ball. Xabi Alonso hovered near the edge of the area. Crouch and Kuyt positioned themselves at the far side of the goal, pulling defenders with them.
It was deliberate misdirection.
An indirect free kick only required two touches. After that, anything was possible.
A layoff to Xabi.
A clipped pass to Crouch.
A return ball to Gerrard under the wall.
Barcelona knew this too.
When Gerrard nudged the ball forward and darted toward the byline, one defender instantly peeled away from the wall to track him. They were taking no chances.
But Yang Yang never looked at Gerrard again.
Ninety-five thousand people were watching him.
The cameras were locked onto his face. Beyond the stadium, millions more were watching live—his parents, his relatives, and Su Ye.
He did not hesitate.
As the ball rolled just a few inches, Yang Yang stepped into it.
His right foot planted firmly.
His left leg swung through.
The inside of his boot wrapped around the ball.
A sharp, clean thud echoed through the stadium.
The sound was not loud, but with Camp Nou holding its breath, it carried.
The ball lifted instantly, curling up and over the wall. It cleared the jumping players by the narrowest margin, then bent viciously toward the upper-left corner.
Valdés reacted on instinct.
He launched himself across the goal, stretching his right arm to its absolute limit. He knew that if this went in, there would be no excuses.
He reached.
But he felt nothing.
The next sound was the roar—delayed, then explosive.
The ball was already in the net.
Yang Yang was sprinting away before Valdés hit the turf.
"GOAL!!!"
"Absolutely unstoppable!"
"Yang Yang bends it beautifully into the top left corner!"
"A sensational strike—clean, precise, and ruthless!"
"This shot perfectly showcases Yang Yang's exceptional shooting technique and accuracy!"
Yang Yang ran all the way to the touchline and dropped to his knees once again.
He heard the deafening boos pouring down from the stands at Camp Nou.
But this time, he felt no fear at all.
To him, it was nothing more than noise—paper tigers that could no longer threaten him.
At the moment he saw the ball curl into the goal, gratitude surged through him.
He was grateful to Louis van Gaal, who from their very first meeting had repeatedly reminded him to train his left foot.
Again and again.
Yang Yang had followed that advice without ever relaxing his effort, and now, once more, it had paid off.
He was also grateful to Marco van Basten, who had repeatedly focused on refining his shooting during his time at Ajax.
And he was grateful to everyone else who had helped him along the way.
A brace.
At the noble, untouchable Camp Nou.
Suddenly, Yang Yang felt an overwhelming urge to laugh.
This moment was simply too special.
...
"Barcelona have paid a terrible price for their own mistakes!"
"1–2. Liverpool have turned the game around."
"This is undoubtedly a hugely painful blow for Barcelona. They have struggled to impose themselves offensively, and the damage is not only technical and tactical, but psychological as well."
"Víctor Valdés has to take responsibility for this goal. It was his basic and unnecessary error that handed Liverpool an indirect free kick inside the penalty area."
"And it is also worth noting that Frank Rijkaard has already used two substitutions, yet neither of them has improved Barcelona's situation on the pitch."
"Up to this point, Rafael Benítez has still made no substitutions at all, which clearly shows just how satisfied he is with the way this match is unfolding."