In the 74th minute, the electronic scoreboard above the stadium became painfully clear — 2-5.
Forty-five minutes earlier, the score was still 2-1. The eleven players who walked out of the dressing room seemed to have had their energy drained in the tunnel. The pitch was still slippery, but the Chengdu Rongcheng defenders moved as if their legs were weighed down. They were repeatedly cut open by the simplest through balls from their opponents, and when the center-backs turned around, they could barely see the opponents moving ahead.
Too slow. Everything was too slow.

Do not blame everything on “bad luck” or “fitness limits.” When a team aiming for the AFC Champions League turns its defense into an open-door shop within half an hour, the man standing on the sideline with his hands in his pockets has already lost control of the dressing room.
This performance was impossible to watch. The head coach must be changed. This is not an emotional outburst; it is the harshest damage-control logic in competitive sports.

The crowd in the stands was still trying to hold on, but the club executives in the VIP box were probably already searching through their contacts. Who were they looking for? Naturally, Australians.
Shanghai Port's Muscat won the Chinese Super League title for two consecutive years, while also shifting the trend of coaching choices in Chinese football. Overnight, lesser-known Australian coaches became sought-after candidates in the market. Zhejiang was interested, Beijing Guoan was watching, and Chengdu Rongcheng also appeared eager to consider Australian options.
I have seen this script for twenty years. When Evergrande won the AFC Champions League with Lippi, the entire league searched for Italian coaches; later, when Spanish possession football became popular, almost any coach who had worked with youth teams at a La Liga relegation-threatened club could come to the Chinese league for a lucrative contract.

Now it is the turn of Australian coaches.
We always think we have witnessed a tactical revolution, when in reality we are often just blindly copying someone else's successful formula.

Looking back at this disastrous second half, Chengdu Rongcheng led 2-1 and had control of the match, so they should have used possession to wear down their opponents. Instead, what happened? The midfield was as empty as a highway at 3 a.m. The forwards pressed in vain, the defenders habitually retreated, and a full 30-meter gap appeared in between.
This was not just a dip in form; it was the complete collapse of a tactical system. The recent run of struggling to win had already exposed the problems with this approach. Opponents did not even need sophisticated tactics; they only needed to send the ball behind the center-backs to create one-on-one chances.
In this era that emphasizes data and running distance, the ability to read the game is the one thing we have lost.

Change the coach? Of course it is possible. But expecting an Australian coach to become a savior is overly naive.
Muscat was able to execute a high-pressing style at Port because he had players such as Oscar, who could deliver passes into tight spaces, as well as one of the league's strongest domestic squads. His aggressive tactics were built on a foundation of individual quality.

What about Chengdu Rongcheng? The club's decision-makers seem to believe that bringing in an Australian coach can instantly inject “steel” and “aggression.” It is like putting an F1 rear wing on a leaking tractor and expecting it to fly on a racetrack.
This is the problem with capital-driven operations: they always chase quick fixes while refusing to acknowledge deeper structural issues.
The five goals conceded tonight are not only a sign that the current coach may leave, but also a warning to the club's overall team-building approach. The defensive collapse comes from an unbalanced recruitment structure; the tactical breakdown comes from lacking a more resilient backup plan.

A termination agreement has likely already begun preparations. Fans need someone to vent their frustration at, the media need a major story, and the club needs someone who can ease pressure on management.
When the new coach with a strong Australian accent arrives at Shuangliu Airport with a high-value contract, he will be welcomed by intense attention and the spotlight.

The question is whether, when he stands on the training ground and sees players who even forget their positioning in difficult moments, he will suddenly realize —
he is simply the next person in this league who may face pressure to leave his position.
