Pep Guardiola takes aim at Man City star despite heroics – ‘He will be in trouble’

The noise inside the Etihad Stadium on that cold Saturday afternoon carried a strange energy, the type that makes even the calmest football fan feel like something magical was about to happen. Manchester City were back at home again, facing Sunderland, a team that had come to the Premier League with fight and fire but still looked far too fragile standing against the champions. But this game was not about Sunderland. It was not even about the scoreline, even though City would go on to win 3-0 without breaking too much sweat. No, the world was focused on one man, one young Frenchman with electricity in his boots and a storm in his heart. His name was Rayan Cherki, the player Pep Guardiola once called “a gift of imagination” but also the same player Pep was warning even in the middle of celebration. Because brilliance comes with danger, and on this day Cherki showed both.

He arrived in Manchester from Lyon for around £31million, a price that suddenly looked like pocket change when City fans saw what he could do on the ball. But before this match, he had not fully taken over the Premier League the way some expected. Injuries had slowed him. Adaptation had delayed him. Guardiola’s demands had challenged him. And yet, against Sunderland, everything in his body and mind seemed to connect at once. It was as if the football gods whispered to him that this was the day to remind the world why he was one of the most naturally gifted young players alive. The touch, the balance, the bravery, the creativity—they all came together in a single unstoppable performance. The game started with City doing what they always do: control the ball, suffocate the opponent, pass and probe, keep possession until Sunderland forgot how to breathe. But then the ball came to Cherki, and immediately there was a different kind of excitement. Something unpredictable. Something dangerous. Something that made the defenders freeze because they did not know if he would dribble, pass, twist, spin, or shoot. On one moment, early in the first half, he drifted inside from the right with his usual smooth swagger. He saw Ruben Dias charging into space, something that normally would shock every City fan because Dias is a defender who prefers breaking bones to breaking lines. But Cherki saw him. Cherki understood him. Cherki played a quick, simple layoff that almost looked too casual for what followed. Dias took one touch and unleashed a rocket from thirty yards, the kind that would make even the goalkeeper question his life choices. The net shook, the stadium roared, and the cameras immediately turned to Cherki, the man who created the moment without needing to take the glory. First assist of the night. But the world had no idea what was coming next.

The second moment, the one the internet would not stop talking about for days, arrived in the second half. City were already in control. The match felt like training. Sunderland were running, chasing shadows, battling but slowly fading. And then Cherki decided to pull out a move that would have made street footballers in Lyon scream for joy. He danced past one defender, glided past another, then opened his body as if he wanted to curl the ball with his left foot. The Sunderland defenders bit the bait. They shifted. They adjusted. They prepared for the predictable. But Cherki hates the predictable. So instead, he swung his right leg behind his left and delivered a rabona cross so perfect, so sweet, so effortlessly disrespectful that the ball floated like poetry into the box. Phil Foden arrived like a man guided by destiny, jumped into the air, and headed it into the net. The Etihad exploded again. The commentator screamed. Fans hugged strangers. Social media went crazy. It was the kind of assist you see once in a generation, the kind that turns young players into legends and legends into myths. And yet, while the fans were losing their minds, Pep Guardiola was shaking his head slightly on the sideline, a small smile tucked carefully under a face full of serious responsibility. Because Pep knows magic, but Pep also fears magic when it threatens control. He has coached genius before. He has managed wild talent before. He has lived through the storms of creativity that ignore instructions. So when the final whistle blew and Cherki walked off the pitch with man-of-the-match chants ringing behind him, Pep was waiting—not with open arms, but with open lessons.

After the game, the reporters rushed as always, pushing microphones the way hungry men push plates at a buffet. They wanted to know what Pep thought about the rabona. They wanted praise. They wanted quotes. They wanted fireworks. But Guardiola, the philosopher of modern football, refused to join the chaos. Instead, he gave the most Pep answer possible. He said he had never even seen Lionel Messi do a cross like that. Messi, the man Pep calls the greatest ever, the man who changed his life, had never done something like Cherki just did. But instead of worshipping the moment, Pep used it as a warning. He talked about simplicity, about the importance of doing the easy things perfectly. He said that he preferred simple things done well more than flashy things done occasionally. He said that if Cherki did not work hard, he would be in trouble. He said that talent alone was not enough. And he said it with a tone that carried love but also discipline, admiration but also challenge. It was a reminder that in Guardiola’s world, magic only survives if it obeys the rules of the system.

But Cherki is not just any player. He is not just another youngster who needs polishing. He is a storm waiting for direction. Six assists in thirteen games already showed that he was contributing. The numbers were climbing. The confidence was rising. The relationship with Haaland was growing. Danny Murphy, the BBC pundit who watched the match, praised him deeply. He talked about Cherki’s vision, his daring, his creativity. He said that the only reason Cherki was not a guaranteed starter already was the injury earlier in the season that kept him out for two months. He said the Frenchman had something special, something that teams fear. But he also raised the question every coach asks: where exactly will he fit consistently? Is he a number ten? Is he a winger? Is he a drifting midfielder? Pep Guardiola does not like players who are not defensively disciplined, and that is where the tension lies. Because creativity fights structure. Vision fights system. Freedom fights discipline. Yet Manchester City’s entire dominance under Pep comes from his ability to take these fights and turn them into harmony. And Cherki must now decide how far he is willing to go to become the man Pep wants him to be.

In the dressing room after the game, the atmosphere was full of joy, but also full of responsibilities. Victories are not unusual for Manchester City, but the manner of this victory, the brilliance of the performance, created a special glow around Cherki. Players congratulated him. Foden joked with him. Haaland hugged him. Even the staff members smiled like proud parents. But Pep’s warning was still echoing. Because football careers are made or destroyed in moments like this. When a young star becomes popular too quickly, the danger is pride. The danger is arrogance. The danger is thinking talent alone can carry a player to greatness. Pep wanted Cherki to avoid that path. He wanted him to keep working, keep learning, keep adding the simple things to his game so that the complex things can shine without collapsing. For City, the win was also significant in a bigger picture. Arsenal had lost earlier to Aston Villa. This meant City were now only two points behind the Gunners in the title race. A small gap, a dangerous gap, a gap that could evaporate with one weekend of magic or disaster. And with the way City played, many felt the storm was coming again. The City storm. The kind that destroys title challengers and leaves them begging for help.

Cherki’s performance also brought comparisons to young Lionel Messi, not because they are the same player, but because their type of creativity is rare. They see things others do not see. They try things others will not try. They break patterns. They bend rules. But the difference is that Messi mastered simplicity first. Messi was unstoppable because his foundation was perfection. Pep wants Cherki to build that same foundation. He wants him to do the basic pass, the basic movement, the basic control, at a level that no opponent can disturb. Only then, according to Pep, can the magic be truly dangerous. Cherki’s story in Manchester is still just beginning. There will be more games, more moments, more debates. Some will praise him. Some will doubt him. Some will call him the next superstar. Some will say he is too risky. But on this night, inside the Etihad, in front of thousands of freezing supporters who forgot the weather because of the heat of his performance, Rayan Cherki wrote a chapter that will not be forgotten any time soon. A rabona assist. A message from Pep. A warning wrapped inside praise. A young man standing between genius and discipline. This is how legends begin. Not with trophies. Not with headlines. But with moments that make the world stop for a second.

As the fans walked out of the stadium discussing the magic they had just witnessed, many of them repeated the same words again and again. They said Cherki was different. They said he was unpredictable. They said he made football look like art. But even more of them repeated Pep’s message. Keep it simple. Work harder. Stay grounded. Because Manchester City is a place where talent is only the beginning. The club demands consistency, responsibility, intelligence, and total commitment. And now, after this performance, the spotlight is on Cherki heavier than ever. The Premier League is watching. Europe is watching. Even Real Madrid and Barcelona would have seen that rabona and whispered among themselves. Because when a player performs magic like that, the world takes notice. As the players rested in their homes later in the evening, Cherki probably replayed the assist in his mind. He probably smiled at the beauty of it. Maybe he scrolled through social media and saw the millions of people sharing the clip. But he also heard Pep’s voice. The voice that said do not lose focus. Do not become carried away. Perfect the simple things first. Work harder than ever before. Because brilliance without discipline is like fire without control. Beautiful, but dangerous. Cherki’s journey at Manchester City now enters a new chapter. A chapter filled with expectation, pressure, excitement, and responsibility. And everyone knows Pep Guardiola will push him, test him, challenge him, and shape him until he becomes what City need him to be: not just a star, but a complete weapon. A player with magic, but also with control. A player who can win games, create chances, break defences, and stay consistent.

The night ended with City fans singing long into the Manchester air, believing that something special was growing inside their team again. And at the heart of it was Rayan Cherki, the French magician with a rabona that will live forever in Premier League memory, standing at the crossroads of greatness, waiting to choose whether he would follow Pep’s path of discipline or his own path of raw genius. The football world is watching closely, because players like Cherki are rare. They can change games. They can change seasons. They can change clubs. But only if they learn when to shine and when to simplify. And on this unforgettable day, with a stadium full of noise and a manager full of warnings, Cherki learned a lesson that could shape the rest of his career