Manchester was painted sky blue once again, and at the heart of it stood the man who has become both a machine and a myth—Erling Haaland. On a Sunday evening under the Etihad lights, Manchester City tore Manchester United apart in a 3-0 rout that will be remembered not only for the gulf in class but for the history that was written. Haaland, the Nordic beast, the striker who terrifies defenders before the first whistle, equalled the great Sergio Agüero’s derby record. Eight goals in the Manchester derby—Agüero once held that as a badge of honour, and now Haaland has joined him at the summit.
For City fans, it was a night of celebration, chants echoing through the streets, their talisman once again proving why he is considered by many as the best striker in world football. For United fans, it was humiliation, another reminder of how far their club has fallen from the heights of Ferguson’s dynasty. For Haaland, it was just another day at work, another step closer to football immortality.
The game began with Phil Foden, the local boy, drawing first blood. The Etihad erupted as he ghosted into the box, finishing clinically while Luke Shaw was caught napping. Roy Keane, never one to hold back, immediately pointed fingers at Shaw in the post-match studio. His fury was matched by United’s fanbase, who aimed their blame squarely at Bruno Fernandes for disappearing yet again when his team needed him most. City smelled blood, United staggered, and Haaland was waiting to strike.
In the second half, the inevitable happened. Haaland found space where no space existed. Twice he punished United, once with the ruthlessness of a predator and again with the power of a warrior. Two goals, two hammer blows, and suddenly history was alive again. Sergio Agüero, the King of the Etihad, the man who scored the most famous goal in Premier League history, now had company in the record books. Haaland had equalled his derby tally of eight goals. The commentators’ voices shook as they repeated it, City fans chanted his name louder, and even Gary Neville, a United legend, was forced to praise him.
And it wasn’t just about the goals. Haaland hit the post, came close to a hat-trick, and ran United ragged all night. According to FotMob, he had nine touches inside United’s box, two successful dribbles, and eight defensive contributions. Imagine that—a striker known for goals was also putting in defensive work, fighting for the badge. It was the kind of performance that silences doubters, that makes debates about Mbappé or Isak seem almost pointless.
Yes, the debate has been raging. Who is the best striker in the world? Kylian Mbappé, the Parisian superstar now dazzling at Real Madrid? Alexander Isak, Liverpool’s record signing, ready to light up Anfield? Or Haaland, the Yorkshire-born Norwegian who scores goals like mortals breathe air? After this derby, many would argue the answer is clear.
Haaland’s story at City has already been extraordinary. Signed from Borussia Dortmund, he became an instant phenomenon, smashing records with the ease of a man swatting flies. In just three seasons at the Etihad, he has terrorised defenders across Europe, lifting trophies, breaking records, and rewriting what it means to be a striker in the modern game. And earlier this year, he signed a nine-and-a-half-year contract, a commitment so rare in football today that it felt like a marriage vow. City have their warrior for a decade, and if nights like this are anything to go by, the records of Agüero, Shearer, Henry, and even Messi may all be in danger.
But make no mistake—this was not just about Haaland. This was about Manchester City sending a message. Their critics said they looked tired, distracted by off-the-pitch storms. Their rivals said Liverpool had overtaken them, Arsenal had caught them, United were ready to fight them again. But in this derby, City roared back to life, their talisman at the centre of it all.
For United, the humiliation cut deep. Bruno Fernandes walked off with his head down, fans raging about his captaincy. Luke Shaw, rusty and exposed, was torn apart. The midfield collapsed under City’s pressing, and the defence looked like a broken dam. This wasn’t just a defeat—it was another confirmation that United are trapped in a cycle of failure, while City continue to dominate.
As the final whistle blew, Haaland raised his arms, the crowd chanting his name. Somewhere in the stands, a banner read: “King Erling.” But for the older fans, memories of Agüero flashed too. It felt like history had come full circle. The Argentinian magician who gave them their first taste of true glory, and the Norwegian monster now carrying the torch, side by side in the record books.
The comparisons will keep coming. Agüero was elegance, movement, and lethal finishing. Haaland is power, rawness, and inevitability. Both delivered in derbies, both delivered in moments of pressure, both became legends in blue. Now, they are linked forever by this statistic—eight goals in the Manchester derby.
Yet anyone who watches Haaland knows this is only the beginning. He is 25 years old, in the prime of his life, and he is not finished. He will break this record, just as he has broken every other. Agüero once seemed untouchable, but Haaland is not only touching him—he is preparing to overtake him.
The night ended with pundits shaking their heads in admiration. Gary Neville admitted United had no answers. Roy Keane tore into his former club’s lack of leadership. The City dressing room was all smiles, music, and laughter. Haaland himself looked calm, almost bored, as though two goals in a derby was nothing special. That is what makes him frightening—not just the goals he scores, but how normal he makes the extraordinary look.
For City fans, this was a reminder that their dominance is far from over. For United fans, it was another painful chapter. For the Premier League, it was another sign that the Haaland era is only beginning. He is not chasing records anymore—he is erasing them, rewriting them, making them his own.
And so, Manchester City march on, guided by Pep Guardiola’s genius and Haaland’s hunger. The Etihad crowd will sing of this night for years, the night Haaland stood shoulder to shoulder with Agüero. The night United were torn apart again. The night Manchester turned blue, as it always seems to when Haaland is around.
Eight derby goals. Count them. Remember them. Because this is history unfolding before our eyes, and the story is far from finished.
