Tottenham Hotspur Reaped What They Sowed

After the match resumed.

Alli bent over with his hands on his knees after tracking back, gulping down air.

In today's match, he had covered more ground than anyone else on the team.

He had been running nonstop from the very first minute.

Pressing, tracking back, pushing forward—he had given everything to every sprint.

But now, his legs felt as heavy as lead.

Pochettino glanced at the bench.

His assistant had already sent Sissoko out to warm up.

In the seventy-second minute, the substitution board went up at the sidelines.

Tottenham Hotspur made a substitution. Sissoko replaced Alli.

Alli walked off slowly. Today, he had carried out the manager's pre-match instructions to the letter.

Whether in defense or attack, no one had run harder than him.

But the relentless high-intensity running had finally taken its toll.

On the other side, Son Heung-min also had his hands on his knees, gasping heavily.

He, too, was using the brief pause from the substitution to recover some of his nearly depleted stamina.

His cheeks were flushed red, and sweat from his forehead trickled down the bridge of his nose.

Pochettino's plan to "run Liverpool to death" was clearly starting to backfire on his own players.

"Heh... Pochettino clearly hasn't mastered this way of beating Liverpool at their own game."

"He used Liverpool's favorite high press against Liverpool, but he overlooked one issue..."

"What is Liverpool's high press built upon?"

"It's built upon exceptional stamina reserves and a scientific rotation system."

"Liverpool have rotated frequently this season. Even core players like Chen Anno are often substituted early by Klopp."

"But what about Tottenham Hotspur? Their main lineup has barely been rotated."

"So at this stage of the match, it isn't Liverpool who are collapsing first—it's Tottenham Hotspur themselves."

Soon, the match reached the seventy-fifth