Nice Night

They all rose and yelled for a goal celebration.

 Edward Mendy's hand threw a ball a bit up in the air and struck his right foot upon it. The ball was whisked onto Ben Chilwell's left foot, who, without aiming to control it, connected it to Mason Mount, who, possessed it well, turned, and with a sharp squint at an open space, left forgotten by Manchester City's midfielders, sent a nailing pass to Kai Havertz, who, had just had to avoid an easy, futile Ederson's attempt to save the ball, and passed it into the net for an only goal in the final. 

 "Hell! Yeah!" Voices were heard in the bar.

 "If things go on like this, I'm going to have a crazy night ahead of me," said a big black buck, with a 2020/2021 Liverpool's kit on his chest, sitting up and down excitedly on the counter high stools.

 "Are you having fun?" Answered another man, sitting near him, also massive built, but chocolate coloured. He was smoking a cigar, a satisfactory expression smearing upon his face.

 "This is more than fun, pal," a Liverpool man said. "Know what? I wouldn't want to see Man City lifting up the silverware piece. I hope the blues run riot around there. And I pray for my hopes not to be wasted. This Timo Werner is boring."

 The cigar man laughed. "The first goal came as a result of Timo Werner's distracting run, look at the replay," he pointed the replay to him.

 "Cheer up, big boy, still there are plenty of chances to be created out there," the cigar man said assuringly. "Look at Jorginho, watch the Kante's runs, see the three center-halves' positions and blocks, have you caught some glimpses of how Reece and Chilwell move to the center and return abruptly to form a back five? Well, I don't think Man City has a chance against Chelsea, I'm taking an oath on that!"

 "Think so? Okay, let's wait and see," the Liverpool man said and continued to watch the game.

 The two teams were attacking back and forth, each in its own time. Manchester City kept on an unsuccessful manhunt attack for an equalizer. Chelsea defended well and played with a proper discipline. They respected the Citizens, so they had a constant look out.

 "Damn! I wish my Liverpool could've played like this in the last season," the Liverpool man said. "I really wish we could have damn well played like that." He lamented, making mourning sounds.

 "Are you a Liverpool fan? I thought you wore the jersey just for the sake of wearing it." The cigar man asked sharply, stubbing regretfully his ending cigar.

 "Yes, I am, haven't you noticed my appearance or you haven't any eyes?"

 The cigar man laughed. "Welcome to the club, big boy," he said with a smile. "I'm also a Liverpool fan. The next season we're going to get back and we're going to bounce just like the last two seasons, just wait and see."

 The final went into a half-time.

 The Liverpool man asked the cigar man. "Hey, pal, I didn't get your name, I'm Jackson Wallace," he offered his hand to the cigar man.

 "Jackie Ford," the cigar man shook back Jackson's hand in a firm grip.

 "Jackie Ford? Any relation to the famous Fords?" Jackson asked curiously.

 "I was told Henry Ford was my great great grandfather, maybe my parents were just boasting," Jackie said, smiling feverishly.

 "Come on, Jack, my namesake, let me buy you a drink," Jackson said with a smile, and ordered a drink for Jackie and for himself. Jackie ordered another cigar, too.

 "So in what racket are you in?" Jackson asked.

 "I'm a sports columnist for New York Times and Los Angeles Galaxy magazine. I also write and commentate for NBA."

 "Jesus! It clicks on. I've finally met my best sports pundit. I'd heard your voice before. It was during a last game of Tracy McGrady, you had color commentated in that game, hadn't you?"

 "Spot on," Jackie said, grinning. "If you'd heard me then, I'll give you a light commentary after this UCL final. And I'm telling you, Chelsea are gonna end up victorious." Jackie said gaily.

 "If you say so, I ain't gonna argue no more. If Man City won, it will be a nightmare. If Chelsea won, it wouldn't be nothing but a thing."

 Jackie chuckled.

 The second half of the final resumed.  

 They went on watching the match.

 After the final whistle was blown and Chelsea emerged victorious, Jackie began to provide his commentary for the game. "Tuchel's masterclass. Strikers score, but defenders ensure the victory. You can't stop yourself from praising Chelsea's players' accountability on the pitch, without going against their game plan, without getting tired, with a high class of discipline. That was a great masterpiece, an art of defending."

 "Tuchel gave Guardiola a new lesson. If you remember, Chelsea likes to apply a shape of 3-2 to overcome the press from opposition teams, three central defenders and two central midfielders, but today, Tuchel used wingbacks to overcome the Manchester City's press, may I tell you how? James Reece and Ben Chilwell added the width on the pitch, Kante goes much forward than Jorginho, distracting any of the City's attacking midfielders, so when Chelsea's central defenders pass to the wingbacks, the half spaces are left open by City's midfielders, the Chelsea's wingbacks look out for their two number tens, Mount and Havertz, then Chelsea are in business."

 "Guardiola gambled by beginning the game without a defensive midfielder and a striker, so as far as this tactic was concerned, he failed, and when he subbed three of his players for the forwards and a defensive midfielder he was too late to get an impact."

 "Congrats to Tuchel, he had a good game management, he attempted on defending in most of the second half, waiting for a counterattack opportunity. James Reece pocketed Raheem Sterling, wonderful play from him. Kante as usual, always a good job from him, world class. Tuchel won a three consecutive match against Guardiola this year, pride of London, London is blue, then, you're going to have a great crazy night as you wished."

 Jackie finished, grinning at Jackson.

 "Well, for the love of Mike! What you've said has actually happened." Jackson said excitedly and agreeably. "Tell you what, Jack? We're going to get drunk, we're going to get tight, we're going to stay awake all night and we're going to feel alright." He then ordered another round of drinks.

 Jackie, who also liked to booze beamed and waited for another round. After all, he thought himself, life is short, and it's always sweet to loose yourself in a company similar to you. The drinks came, together they saluted and shuffled to the hailing Chelsea's fans on the dancing stage.