You know that gut-wrenching ache when everything hangs on one moment—and you let it slip? Harry Maguire does. 

Ten months ago at Anfield, with the clock ticking down in a tense 2-2 draw against Liverpool, he rose for a sitter—a header from point-blank range—and sent it sailing over the bar. The groans from United fans echoed all the way back to Manchester. 

It was the kind of miss that sticks, adding fuel to the fire of critics who'd already written him off as too slow, too clumsy, a £80 million bust. Stripped of the captaincy, benched under managers who doubted him, and turned into a meme machine—"Slabhead" they called him—Maguire's time at Old Trafford felt like one long, bruising battle. 

Death threats, bomb scares, the lot. Many would've crumbled. But not Harry. 

The Yorkshireman dug in, proving resilience isn't just a buzzword. 

Since last season's dawn, his headers have been lifelines in the storm. That 90+1st-minute equalizer against Porto? A desperate nod to snatch a Europa draw from defeat's jaws. The 90+3rd-minute stunner versus Leicester? Heart-stopping theater at home, pilfering victory against his boyhood club. His 47th-minute decider at Ipswich gritted out a win, and the 89th-minute rescuer versus Grimsby? 

Yet nothing matched the Lyon epic for sheer drama—the most chaotic clash in recent memory, a whirlwind of red cards slashing squads to skeletons, extra time stretching into an emotional abyss. Fans on the edge, breaths held as pandemonium reigned. Then, at 120+1, with hope flickering out, Maguire ascended amid the mayhem, his header crashing home like thunder, propelling United forward in the competition.

These weren't flukes, they were statements.

Fast forward to Sunday, and Anfield again. Under new boss Ruben Amorim, United fans dared to dream. 

Coming into the match, Liverpool were wobbling on a three-game skid, but doubts swirled: Could Maguire handle Salah's speed, Gakpo's threat? Pundits scoffed—"Error-prone against that attack? Recipe for disaster." 

Yet Amorim trusted him, and boy, did it pay off.

The game was a rollercoaster. Bryan Mbeumo fired United ahead early, courtesy of Matheus Cunha's spark. Liverpool stormed back after the break, Gakpo tapping in a scruffy equalizer from Federico Chiesa's pass. They hit the woodwork three times—Gakpo twice—and blew chances.

Then, magic. 

From a corner's second phase, Bruno Fernandes whipped in a volleyed cross. Clattered by Hugo Ekitike seconds before, Maguire picked himself up, soared above the pack, and thumped home the 84th-minute winner. 

2-1. Anfield stunned silent, United's away end in rapture. 

Against the arch-rivals, in their roaring den, Slabhead had headed the Red Devils to glory. Anfield's hush was deafening; the away end erupted in euphoric tears.

He slid on his knees toward the Kop, then jogged to bask in the adulation from the traveling fans.

"I didn’t know where I was... just fancied the trademark kneeslide," Maguire grinned post-match.

"The fans have been amazing; this is for them." Amorim called it "a great example to every kid" of bouncing back.

For Maguire, it was poetic justice—erasing last season’s ghost, ending a nine-year Anfield league drought, igniting United's top-four push. 

From mocked villain to exalted hero, Maguire's United tale whispers: Fight on. With headers like these, who doubts him now?