Wenger's departure didn't bring much change to either team; they continued their open, attacking play.
As time ticked away, Liverpool's desire to score intensified. They further accelerated their already rapid pace, sacrificing success rate for the sake of creating threats.
"Bang!"
In the 31st minute, Kuyt dropped back to receive the ball and was immediately marked closely by Alexandre Song.
He forcibly turned half his body,Reluctantly sent the bouncing ball towards Suárez's approximate position.
The Uruguayan striker received the ball perfectly, took a few steps laterally, and then, as Charlie Adam sprinted down the right flank, he delivered a diagonal pass. The latter then swept in a low cross.
"Thwack!" The ball struck Koscielny's instep. He didn't have time to react, instinctively lifting his foot to flick the ball outwards. It immediately lifted off the ground and flew towards his rear.
Fortunately, Alexandre Song was in the line of fire. He headed the ball clear from near the penalty spot, resolving the threat.
At the landing point, Arteta was already turning to observe his teammates' runs. Possession seemed about to change hands.
"Thump, thump, thump!"
In the forward positions, Maël and Walcott simultaneously sprinted, running towards the openings that would favor a pass from Arteta. This kind of movement had to be done in advance; waiting until Arteta received the ball would be too late.
In such a high-intensity match, Arteta wouldn't have more than a second to process the ball after receiving it.
"Tighten up! Tighten up!"
In midfield, Liverpool captain Gerrard quickly moved behind Arteta, while urging his teammates to compress the space.
Immediate counter-pressing!
They couldn't allow Arteta to turn with the ball and easily pass it out! Four Liverpool players quickly surrounded Arteta, cutting off all his dribbling and passing lanes.
Arteta wasn't Maël after all, and after a few forced dribbles, he found himself in a difficult position.
"Thwack!" Charlie Adam, tracking back, poked a foot out and dispossessed him, Liverpool regaining control!
Maël and Walcott stopped their runs in the forward positions. This was a common occurrence on the field; most of their off-ball runs were ineffective.
But they had to run every time, so they wouldn't miss the opportunity when the moment to receive the ball truly arrived.
"Liverpool is about to launch a counter-attack. Henderson received the ball from Charlie Adam's tackle, and Gerrard is unmarked on the other side! Koscielny has come out to defend, Henderson didn't pass to Gerrard, he passed to Suárez! The Uruguayan striker is dribbling towards the penalty area, Djourou is defending him!
"He shoots directly! Oh! A beautiful goal! Suárez's curler hits the far corner! Liverpool takes the lead!
"The aggregate score is three to two! Djourou didn't fulfill his duty. When the opposing striker shoots, the goalkeeper's duty is to cover the near post, and the defender's duty is to cover the far post!
"Even though Arsenal only needs one goal to regain the initiative, Liverpool now has one foot in the final!"
"..."
"Liverpool! Liverpool! Suárez! Suárez!"
Amidst the exhilarating shouts of the Liverpool traveling fans, goal-scorer Suárez sprinted to the sidelines and celebrated with a sliding knee. After getting up, he high-fived and embraced the veteran captain Gerrard.
Both of them wore smiles on their faces. They had fulfilled Dalglish's pre-match request, fiercely attacking Arsenal's backline, which was experiencing turmoil, and scoring a goal first.
Next, they would strive for a second goal to offset the team's away goal disadvantage!
They were always on the right path. Taking advantage of Arsenal's recent poor form, they would defeat this strong opponent to advance to the final and win the championship!
"Beautiful!"
On the sidelines, Dalglish excitedly waved his fists in celebration. He turned to look at his old rival, Wenger.
The latter stood in the fan zone with his arms crossed, looking worried and silent, just like the Arsenal fans around him.
"No team can have good luck on every front." Dalglish muttered softly, feeling much more comfortable, and paced back and forth on the sidelines.
Arsenal had been stumbling this month, seemingly struggling, but in reality, they had remained undefeated and steadily advanced on all fronts.
Today, it was time for Liverpool to stop them! His team wasn't Fulham, wasn't Swansea, who would let Arsenal in this state bypass them unscathed and continue forward.
They had faced Arsenal twice this season, drawing once and losing once, and the team had yet to taste victory. Today, they should have a taste!
"One-nil! One-nil! We're going to Wembley Stadium!"
After the restart, Liverpool fans raised their team flags and scarves, singing a team song mocking the home fans, "Hold on tight to your Premier League unbeaten run, when we come next time, you'll have nothing left!"
"One-nil! One-nil!"
This was probably a song they had prepared long ago, waiting to sing when their team took a one-nil lead. Such taunts between opposing fans are normal on the field, and the Arsenal fans were likely prepared as well.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
On the field, the Arsenal players intensified their attacks, but they couldn't find any good opportunities to convert.
Breaking through Liverpool's goal with pure positional defense was a bit too difficult.
Unless they could count on Maël to constantly create danger through breakthroughs, or Van Persie to produce another moment of brilliance with a divine goal. But under the opponent's tight defense, this could only be said to be a low-probability event, not something that could happen frequently.
"Here!"
During this period, Maël constantly cut behind Martin Kelly, or retreated very deep to receive the ball, playing his stamina-draining tactics again.
Of course, his methods weren't limited to these. He often waited near the center for opportunities for long shots and curved shots.
But Liverpool seemed to want to weather their period of counterattack, with the whole team retreating to the vicinity of the penalty area for deep defense, using one desperate clearance and block after another to undermine Arsenal's attacking confidence.
"One-nil and we're going to Wembley Stadium!" Coupled with their fans constantly encouraging them with songs, they quickly regained the momentum to take the initiative.
It seemed that Arsenal's counterattack was about to end, and the game was about to return to an evenly matched back-and-forth battle.
"Clang!"
In the 44th minute of the match, Gerrard tackled Maël's dribble, and after getting up, he passed the ball to Downing on the left front, who launched a counterattack.
Maël was tackled to the ground, sat up, and spread his hands towards the referee, but the referee ignored him.
He could only get up, pat the grass clippings and dirt off his thighs, and return to his position to wait for an opportunity.
He noticed the opponent's defense and found that Liverpool was still very vigilant, not committing too many troops in the counterattack, with most of the defensive players still near their own penalty area.
"Downing facing Sagna's defense! Not easy to break through! Turns around to pass, a feint, he still wants to go to the baseline! A cross! Djourou's header clears, the second ball is taken by Rosický! The Liverpool players are coming up again, their on-the-spot counter-pressing is very good, often able to disrupt Arsenal's counterattacks and create good attacking opportunities for the team!"
"Rosický! Uses his body to hold off Kuyt and Henderson, but he's not Maël, the ball is intercepted!"
"Liverpool once again seizes the opportunity for a counter-attack! Rosický doesn't give up! He goes towards Henderson, who is advancing with the ball, a beautiful steal!"
"His body is definitely not dominant in front of Henderson, but he still uses a combination of soft and hard tactics to hook the ball away from Henderson.
"Fought for it!"
"..."
"Bang!"
From the arc, Rosický played a long pass to the left side of the field without even looking.
First, he was afraid that the opponent would steal it back, and second, he believed that as long as he played it to a decent position, Maël would have a chance to take it.
Sure enough, as soon as he passed the ball, he felt a sudden emptiness under his feet, and his whole body fell forward, someone had kicked him hard from behind.
This was the speed of attack and defense at this time, he couldn't have passed the ball if he had looked even for a second longer! The intensity of a championship battle!
Rosický felt fine after landing, but fearing that Maël would not receive the ball, he covered his face and howled, "Ah!"
If Maël didn't get the ball, the referee would call a foul, and they would still have possession.
After shouting twice, Rosický didn't hear the whistle and wanted to see the situation over there, but he couldn't get up directly, so he had to open a gap between his hands.
Through his fingers, he saw that on the left side of the field, Martin Kelly seemed to have taken a position in advance and was about to clear the ball with a header.
"Bang!"
Before Maël had time to apply pressure, he headed the ball, but he made a mistake in the direction of the header, he didn't clear it to the sides, but headed it straight ahead.
He seemed to want to use Maël's forward momentum to head the ball behind him, using the difference in reaction to break through him, and then take the ball at his feet.
"Bang!"
But Martin Kelly didn't expect that Maël would quickly jump up and tilt his head to the side, heading the ball flying behind him back in front of him.
In an instant, Martin Kelly became the one who was broken through by the difference in reaction, he was rushing towards the back of Maël, but the football flew behind his head.
The opponent used the method he had envisioned to counter him, bypassing him!
"Thump, thump, thump!"
Maël was already much faster than him, and his acceleration widened the gap by another five meters in an instant.
He's lost his position! "Martin Kelly was too careless! It's difficult to get past Maël with such an offhand move in this position!" He must know that Maël's reaction speed is world-class, but he still wanted to take a gamble! "Sometimes, mistakes come from misjudging the situation! Now it's Arsenal's attacking turn. Liverpool has six players defending in their own half, and Arsenal has four players attacking!" But Liverpool is tracking back quickly. Henderson and others have already crossed the center circle; they are united as one!"
...
"One-nil! One-nil! We're going to Wembley!"
On the field, the Liverpool fans' singing continued; they didn't seem worried about Arsenal creating a threat in this attack.
The defensive line was very dense, and the midfielders and forwards were all tracking back. An iron barrel formation was about to be built in front of the penalty area. Maël couldn't just fly over their defense.
"Just hold on to your Premier League unbeaten run... until next time we...!"
"Bang, bang...!" Maël charged towards the Liverpool goal, ignoring the sounds around him. He didn't choose to go to the byline but went straight to the area near the arc of the penalty area.
Before the game, Mr. Wenger had said that the area was relatively empty, and now it seemed that was indeed the case.
He wasn't planning anything complicated, as that would give the tracking players time to catch up. He would just take a long shot.
"Ohhh!" As if sensing his intention, the Arsenal fans gradually stood up from their seats. Maël's cutting speed was very fast, and now it seemed that no one could stop him.
A shot was almost certain to happen; it just depended on whether it would hit the target! In the instant before Henderson and Gerrard tracked back to the arc, Maël turned sideways and stepped on his supporting foot, swinging his left arm behind his shoulder, stretching his body and folding his right leg.
"Bang!!"
As his instep sent the football out, the sound of the *Brutal Shot* reverberated throughout the stadium. The football spun like a cannonball towards the goal guarded by Reina.
Maël looked up after taking the shot, and Gerrard and Henderson, who had just run behind him and started to slow down, also looked towards the goal.
"Swish!" In less than a second, the right side of the net bulged violently backward. Reina's reaction was much slower; his hand only arrived after the ball had gone in.
"Yeah! Hurrah!!!" The Arsenal fans at the Emirates Stadium erupted in deafening cheers, everyone raising their arms and cheering for this wonderful goal.
"Oh!"
Maël opened his arms and roared as he ran towards the sideline, with several Arsenal players chasing after him.
Cannon Shot!
Here it comes again! Only Gerrard and Henderson were left standing in place, looking at the goal without saying a word. They were both actually very good at long shots, but their goal Frequency didn't seem to be as high as Maël's.
"Wow!"
In the fan zone, Wenger felt the fervor of the Arsenal fans up close. He raised his arms again, shaking and shouting.
As if he felt that this wasn't enough to vent all his emotions, he jumped down the steps in two or three strides and came to the coaching area to celebrate, joining Philip and the others.
This move attracted a lot of attention. Everyone wondered what would happen if a head coach who had been sent off returned to the field to celebrate.
Soon, the fourth official noticed this scene and quickly ran over.
"Oh!"
But Wenger had anticipated this. After hugging Philip, he raised his hands again, celebrating as he rushed towards the player tunnel, as if he was originally going to run in that direction.
The fourth official watched Wenger run past him and into the player tunnel, stunned and speechless.
"Hahaha!" A large-scale burst of laughter rang out from the stands where Wenger had just been standing. Anyway, the first half was about to end, and Wenger was originally going to return to the player tunnel. This could be considered a free celebration.
"Gooooaaaaallll!"
Inside the commentary box under the stadium's box seats, the Sky Sports commentator wearing headphones seemed to have nothing to say about this goal, and imitated the super-long sound of the South American commentators, shouting until his last breath, "Goal!!"
This was indeed an unreasonable goal. He suddenly rushed to the center, without any extra moves, and directly blasted a shot to blow up the goal.
With just this one shot, Arsenal was very likely to turn the game around and suppress Liverpool's momentum for a while.
This was the simplest way to score a goal, and also the most difficult way to score a goal. It transcended any attacking tactical system and was purely a display of personal ability.
Simple and brutal! Strong deterrent!
Effective!
After Maël came to the sideline, he jumped high and waved his fist, then kept raising his hand, signaling that the Arsenal fans' momentum should rise, and that the team needed their help.
They had to win this game and go to the Wembley Stadium that he had dreamed of for so long!
That was a stadium that already represented glory and honor. It didn't even need the embellishment of a championship to attract players to go there and compete in that historic, super-large stadium!
The singing of the Liverpool fans stopped, perhaps they still had the heart, but they were truly powerless.
The game returned to a 1-1 tie, the aggregate score returned to 3-3, and the initiative returned to Arsenal.
What should they sing at this time? Any word they sang seemed like a self-mockery.
But it didn't matter. Under Maël's reminder, a new song quickly rose from the Arsenal fan zone and immediately reverberated throughout the stadium, "Ma-ehl! Ma-ehl! We're going to Wembley!"
All momentum shifted at this moment, and Arsenal regained their home advantage.
"Beep! Beep—!"
The first half of the game then ended, and the players returned to the locker room to prepare for the second half.
Inside the locker room, Mr. Wenger didn't emphasize too much about tactics, nor did he mention being sent off the field. He just encouraged the players, hoping everyone would continue to persevere in the second half.
"Clap clap clap."
Finally, he clapped his hands, just like during the pre-match preparation meeting, "Arsenal, come on!! Just like they said, we're going to Wembley Stadium!"
After stirring up a wave of encouragement among the players, he walked out of the locker room, called Philip over, and instructed, "I'm going to stay in the locker room for the second half. I'm leaving everything outside to you.
"If the score remains the same, bring on Mikel and Frimpong in the 75th minute to strengthen the defense. You decide who to substitute based on the situation.
"If we score again or they score again, then... then it's all up to you. I can't predict the situation at that time. No one can truly understand football."
"Okay." Philip nodded with a heavy expression, feeling the full weight of responsibility on his shoulders.
"Beep beep!"
"Fight, Arsenal!"
"Land in Wembley!"
Before long, the whistle to start the second half sounded, and the players encouraged each other as they walked out of the locker room. Only the last 45 minutes remained in this battle for a spot in the final.
"Drip... drip."
Mr. Wenger went to the restroom next to the locker room, leaned against the wall with one hand, and held a cigarette in the other. After smoking two in a row, he felt that everything around him was too quiet and couldn't help but turn around and prepare to return to the field.
"Arsenal! Arsenal!"
But as he approached the player tunnel, saw the light shining in from the field, and heard the fans' shouts, hesitation appeared in his eyes.
It wasn't that he couldn't go out, but that he didn't want to go out and immerse himself in that tense atmosphere again.
Whether they failed to reach the final or entered the final, it would evoke some bad memories from his past.
Like the seven years without a title, like last year's EFL Cup final where they were defeated by a game-winning goal from the relegation team Birmingham. Having reached this age, he had long since taken many things lightly, his heart as still as water regarding many things, no longer affected by past painful experiences.
But when the team approached the final again, approached breaking the title drought again, some bad things would always surface in his mind, as if the failures of the past few years made him subconsciously feel that accidents would always happen.
"Da da da."
Footsteps sounded, and Mr. Wenger walked towards the equipment room near the field. He planned to stay there and listen to the game quietly.
The equipment room was small, with most of the space filled with things, and there was a smell of plastic and mildew.
"Click." He didn't mind, went to the table in the middle and sat down, lighting a cigarette.
It wasn't completely dark here either. There was a small glass window above the wall, leading directly to the fan area outside the field, and some natural light could shine in through the window.
"Oh!"
A burst of cheers suddenly came, and many figures were reflected in front of the glass window. Many people seemed to have stood up, but quickly sat down again, "Ah!"
Mr. Wenger looked calm, watching the clock on the wall while looking at the glass window, using this to judge the time and situation.
"Wow!"
After a long time, another burst of loud cheers came from outside the field, then slowly subsided.
"Oh!"
"Yeah!"
"…"
The game time passed minute by minute, gradually passing 60 minutes, 70 minutes. Often, there would be thunderous cheers, not necessarily for a goal.
As time ticked past the 80th minute, the 85th, the 88th, and then the 90th, Wenger's steadfast composure finally cracked. He grew restless, anxious, his breathing uneven.
"Yeah!" Another extremely loud sound erupted from outside the field, the window reflecting the silhouettes of many people raising their arms in cheers.
Wenger couldn't resist any longer. He pushed open the door and stepped out, wanting to see what was happening on the field.
"Tap, tap, tap!"
As soon as he opened the door, a figure dashed past him, running towards the players' tunnel.
Wenger walked out, watching the figure's back as it ran. He recognized it as Philip, the one he had entrusted with important responsibilities. It seemed Philip was coming to find him.
Hearing the door open behind him, Philip subconsciously turned his head. Seeing it was Wenger, he stopped in his tracks.
He didn't bother asking the pointless question of why Wenger was there; he could pretty much guess. At that moment, he simply wore an expression of hurried breath.
Wenger quickly walked towards him, stopping right in front of him and taking hold of his arm. "What happened?!"
Philip blinked repeatedly, the muscles in his face twitching. After a moment of silence, he lowered his head.
"Hah," Wenger sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumping. He looked at Philip sternly, waiting for him to deliver the news of the team's defeat.
Suddenly, Philip began nodding his head incessantly, his eyes gradually reddening.
He bit his lip, but couldn't suppress the joy bubbling up from within. He took a deep breath and raised his voice. "Three Two! We won three to two! Five to four on aggregate! We're going to Wembley!" Haha!"
Wenger walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and frowned, examining him to make sure it wasn't a lie. He then let out a long sigh of relief. "You scared me to death! Damn it, you really scared me!"
"Haha!" The two then burst into laughter together, embracing tightly in the players' tunnel.
"Who scored?!" Wenger asked, his face moved, his arm around Philip's shoulders. "You have to promise me you won't do that again."
"Definitely, definitely."
Philip first assured Wenger, then laughed. "After Maël scored the first goal, he quickly assisted Walcott in blasting another one in. Kuyt then immediately pulled one back for Liverpool."
"Did you hear that 'Wow'?" The Liverpool fans went crazy at that moment. They thought they were on equal footing with Arsenal and had nothing to worry about anymore."
"Alexandre Song! Song scored the game-winning goal from Van Persie's pass!"
Wenger looked up at the sky, then quickly took out his phone to check the results of the other semi-final.
EFL Championship dark horse Cardiff City defeated Crystal Palace three to two on penalties, advancing to the EFL Cup final!
"Ah," Wenger put down his phone and embraced Philip again. At that moment, he felt that the first trophy in seven years was so close.
"Oh!"
"Clatter, clatter!"
Then, with a burst of cheers and the sound of cleats rapidly hitting the ground, the Arsenal players, wearing their jerseys, rushed in from the players' tunnel, celebrating with excited smiles on their faces.
"Wembley!"
Leading the charge was Maël, who was jumping up and down with his arms raised. "We're coming! The final, we're coming!"
"Mr. Wenger, remember to dance!" Alexandre Song patted Wenger on the shoulder as he ran past him, then rushed off to the locker room to celebrate.
Wenger stood there, occasionally being hugged and occasionally being pushed, a satisfied smile on his face the entire time.
He didn't want to dwell on how difficult this month had been, or how agonizing the matches had been.
He just hadn't expected that, in such a difficult situation, the team would advance to both the FA Cup and the EFL Cup finals, and not lose a single Premier League match! The fighting spirit and drive of this team were unimaginable in previous seasons.
They truly had the makings of champions! "Philip," Wenger turned around, watching the figures rushing into the locker room one after another. "Is this the year?"
"I think so," Philip nodded. They then heard singing and dancing coming from the locker room.
"Arsenal advances to the EFL Cup final after a game-winning goal against Liverpool! Their opponent is EFL Championship team Cardiff City! Wenger is likely to bring a trophy to the team after 7 years!" - Football Record
After this match, Arsenal only had one match left in January, the Premier League round 22 against Manchester United on January 30th.
They would have a break and preparation period of about six days. Whether they could withstand the injury wave depended on the outcome of this final match.
There was probably no need to elaborate on how strong Old Sir's Manchester United was.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call this match the most difficult one in the second half of the season.
After successively battling Fulham, Swansea, and Liverpool, they were now facing such a tough opponent. Arsenal's schedule could be described as perilous.
However, it's also related to themselves. If they easily take down Fulham and Swansea, winning with minimal effort, the team won't feel too fatigued at the end of the month.
But as He Wei said, "Don't believe that victory is as easily attainable as dandelions on a hillside."
Every trophy filled with honor is sure to have many hardships and difficulties within it.
And that's precisely why championships have become something people pursue, believe in, and acknowledge!
Because when you lift the trophy, people will know that you not only possess the best skills but also the strongest mentality and the most resilient character. You are the undisputed best! "Pa pa. Boom!"
Maël hasn't slacked off on training these past few days. He spends most of his time with José, only following Davis for the minor aspects required for training speed and some skill-based techniques.
He considered adding another physical training element to the plan, but after careful consideration, he gave up on the idea.
During this crucial period of the season, he can't add too much intensity to the training. The current intensity is just right, allowing for a good balance between training and matches.
"Kyle Walker has been causing controversy lately, with Tottenham fans and Arsenal fans arguing fiercely."
While doing fancy training that day, José told him about this interesting incident. "Tottenham fans think that the young players the team cultivates won't leave, while Arsenal fans think he will join the team."
"They're very anxious over there, afraid of a situation like Campbell's happening again, joining a bitter rival and then helping that rival lift the championship trophy at their own home ground."
"Moreover, when Campbell was at Tottenham, Tottenham didn't really think highly of him. Now, everyone knows that Kyle Walker can become a top full-back."
Maël dribbled the ball at his feet, smiling slightly. "From my perspective, I hope he can come."
"How's the new contract going?"
José asked with a smile, "I heard that Arsenal is preparing to give you another raise, and also give you various copyrights to Football Record?"
"Yes." Maël nodded. "Mendes is already in talks. The winter transfer window is also coming to an end, so it should be signed in the next day or two. I'll be wearing the number 7 jersey then."
"As for the copyright of Football Record, it can be considered a signing fee in my new contract, just in a different form."
José didn't ask any further questions and continued to train Maël diligently.
After finishing training, Maël opened the proficiency panel and looked at the increase in various skills.
[Skill: Sprint lv4]
[Proficiency: (299/5000)]
[Skill: Brutal Shot lv4]
[Proficiency: (542/2000)]
[Skill: Header Power lv3]
[Proficiency: (291/800)]
[Skill: Fancy Dribbling lv2]
[Proficiency: (714/800)]
[Additional Skill: Fancy Skills lv1]
[Proficiency: (547/1500)]
"Fancy Dribbling is almost there."
The improvement over the past twenty days has been quite noticeable. At this rate, he will have a new skill upgrade every month, and he won't stop improving his strength for the time being.
Seeing the proficiency of Long Shot also increasing day by day, a smile appeared on his lips. Perhaps the first lv5 skill is not far away.
...
On January 26th, the new contract was finalized.
"A weekly salary of £145,000, the highest in the team. Only one other person has it besides you, and you should know who that is."
Mendes sounded very excited on the phone, as if he had accomplished something big. "This salary is not low in the Premier League either, only lower than the players of those nouveau riche clubs."
"And the signing fee is £5 million, £3 million after tax! Another new high! Not to mention the value of various copyrights the team is giving you, are you satisfied?"
"Of course, I'm satisfied." Since answering the phone, the smile on Maël's face hasn't stopped.
Arsenal's sincerity is really good, offering a player with 4 and a half years left on his contract a £5 million signing fee. This is to stabilize him, directly expressing it with money.
This is a very practical way, a very crude way, but it's fascinating.
"Mr. Wenger has a small request, which is that you can participate in the signing alone. He may want to say something to you."
Mr. Mendes' voice continued, "I've agreed. I'll just take a trip to Puma headquarters and see what they've been thinking all along."
"Okay." Maël nodded and asked, "When's the signing? Today?"
"It depends on your time. Wenger should be calling you soon."
"Then today it is."
Half an hour later, fully dressed, Maël arrived at his doorstep to wait. Mr. Wenger had offered to pick him up.
It was a magical thing for a head coach to personally drive from home to pick up a player to sign a new contract. Maël, for one, had never heard of it.
Perhaps Mr. Wenger really valued him, making many exceptions for him and constantly trying to close the gap between them.
A little over ten minutes later, he saw a Mercedes-Benz SUV with the logo parked in the distance. Mr. Wenger rolled down the window and smiled at him.
Maël smiled and walked over, sitting in the passenger seat. He glanced at the handsome old man driving beside him, feeling a strange sensation.
"I have a suggestion."
Mr. Wenger smiled, looking ahead, and said, "Last time we signed a new contract at the Emirates Stadium, how about going to Highbury Stadium this time? There are many memories of us there, and I'd like to show you."
"Sure." Maël readily agreed, fastened his seat belt, and set off with Mr. Wenger.
Could this just be a simple trip, a simple team history lesson? Mr. Wenger drove steadily forward, and twenty minutes later, they arrived near Highbury Stadium, driving all the way to the stadium's garage.
It wasn't that Maël hadn't seen this stadium before; on the contrary, he saw it almost every week.
It was only about 500 meters in a straight line from the new stadium, the Emirates Stadium, and the club's bus would often pass by here when entering the Emirates Stadium.
"Let's go."
After Mr. Wenger parked the car, he waved at Maël and said with a smile, "Let's go in and take a look. You haven't been here before."
Maël followed him, and soon they arrived inside the stadium, seeing the stadium that represented Arsenal's glorious history. The first thing he noticed was the turf and the stands.
Seeing it with his own eyes, it didn't look as desolate as in the photos.
Especially on this sunny day, it gave the feeling that after some repairs to the lawn, it could be pulled out for use immediately.
But compared to the brand-new and magnificent Emirates Stadium, this place was completely inadequate. It felt like heaven and earth.
Mr. Wenger stood beside him, looking up at the stadium, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if recalling the past.
"Three Premier League titles."
Maël saw through him and helped him recall, "Four FA Cup titles, four Community Shield Cup titles, three Manager of the Year awards, all won here."
Mr. Wenger glanced at him and smiled, "That's right, we really won a lot here.
"Maybe you think it's very old, but it used to be beautiful too. Would you like to see?"
Like a child eager to prove himself to others, he took out his phone and searched for treasured photos in his album.
Maël leaned over, and coming here with Mr. Wenger, he could feel a sense of weight and was even more curious about everything that had happened here.
"This one."
"Very beautiful, right? I really like the gaps in the corners between the four stands."
Mr. Wenger showed Maël the photos on his phone while pointing around, "You can see the sky on both sides, and you can see the residential buildings on both sides. Haha, back then, people often lay on the rooftops to watch us play.
"Those were really happy days. It's still memorable to think about now."
Maël nodded, seeing the beauty of this open stadium in the photos. Unlike the Emirates Stadium, it was surrounded on all sides.
Mr. Wenger and Maël walked around the stadium, reminiscing for a while, and then pointed to a place, "Let's go to my office. It's over there. The desk and photos inside are still there."
Maël followed him, taking it as a tour of the great team's past history.
After arriving at the office, the first thing he saw were several framed photos on the wall, including a group photo of the whole team when they won the championship, and a photo of Tony Adams and Vieira.
He could somewhat feel that Mr. Wenger's mood when he worked here at that time must have been full of hope and vigor.
"There's also a photo here that Pérez secretly took of me. You can think of him as Philip's predecessor, but unfortunately, he passed away the year before last."
Mr. Wenger took out a photo frame from under the table, and when he said the last sentence, his expression was slightly regretful, but he quickly returned to normal.
Maël took the photo frame and saw a photo of Mr. Wenger working here.
He was wearing a sky-blue shirt in the picture, with the two photos now hanging on the wall behind and to his right. Back then, his hair wasn't completely white yet, and although he looked serious, he seemed full of energy.
"Very handsome."
Maël exclaimed sincerely, handing the photo frame back.
Wenger took it, admired it for a moment, raised his eyebrows and smiled, "I don't know why my hands were like that, maybe I pretended not to notice Pérez taking pictures of me that day, pretending to be busy, haha."
Maël laughed along with him. The old professor could be quite adorable in private sometimes.
Wenger walked forward, sat back down in his seat, closed his eyes to feel for a moment, and then said, "Actually, I've been prepared for a while. Let's complete the signing here. There's something I want to tell you."
Maël nodded in agreement, then asked, "What is it?"
He looked at Wenger's face, watching it change from a smile to worry, with a hint of embarrassment and fear, "I want to tell you why the team doesn't have money, and when we will have money."
He was still afraid that he would leave, afraid that he would do what Fabregas and Nasri and others had done. Maël guessed the reason and sat down opposite Mr. Wenger.
In fact, just hearing about the setbacks in the second half of Wenger's coaching career, the annual selling of captains after building the new stadium, the repeated betrayals, the misunderstanding by fans, the public criticism by former disciples, and taking the blame for the higher-ups, etc.
One wouldn't have too strong of a feeling, at most just feeling tragic.
But when he's really standing in front of you, talking to you in the place where he once achieved great success, everything feels different.
You can't help but think about everything that happened to him, and think about his ending at this club.
Maël still remembered that later on, there would be extreme fans holding banners every game to drive him away, fans marching and setting off smoke bombs with 'Wenger out' signs.
Pressuring him by damaging the Emirates Stadium, damaging his most beloved child.
In the end, under pressure from the higher-ups, he was fired in 2018, leaving his beloved place in the worst possible way.
"Everyone thinks it's because of the Emirates Stadium, but it is and it isn't."
Wenger smiled optimistically. He took out an album and handed it to Maël, "You can look at these photos. When the stadium was being built, I was full of hope for the future."
Maël took the photos. The first thing he saw was a photo of him with Henry and Vieira wearing work clothes and hard hats.
The three of them were smiling brightly in the lens, as if they had no worries, only happiness and anticipation for the completion of the stadium.
"Building a better fan community, increasing the number of fans and their loyalty to the club, and allowing the club to have higher ticket and merchandise revenue, was my purpose in building this stadium.
"So, you can simply understand that I built this stadium to make money for Arsenal, not to put Arsenal into a debt crisis.
"Look at the second one. When the stadium was almost finished, the club's debt pressure was already very high, but I still had ambition for the future. I always felt that we would become the best club."
Wenger in the lens spread his hands, his eyes sharp. He and Arsenal should have passed their peak and entered a state of no titles for many years, but he still hadn't given up hope for the future.
"The new home of arsenal"
Wenger also leaned over to look, seeing the line of words behind it, "Haha... At that time, I really thought that as long as the stadium was built, as long as we moved in, all the problems would be solved.
"The club's financial deficit would be gone, and the shareholders would be more confident in investing in it. We would soon find the feeling of those years.
"Unfortunately, it didn't happen later. Kroenke and Usmanov kept dragging on, kept dragging on. No one could outlast the other, and no one was willing to give in.
"One of them owns a huge sports empire, and the other owns countless monopoly industries. Dragging on the Arsenal issue wouldn't be a loss to them, just a matter of pride.
"But for me, everything is different. I only have Arsenal."
Wenger's smile was a bit bitter as he said this, "Yes, I only have this team, nothing else."
Maël continued to turn the pages, seeing a photo of Wenger in the stadium, also very handsome, with vibrant vitality.
"They were dragging on, unwilling to invest money in the team, so I had to find a way."
Wenger looked at himself in the album, "So, I started the days of paying off loans while using the little money left to strengthen the team and buy players, ensuring results.
"From the beginning of moving into the new stadium until now, I have been doing this, there is no other way. As long as I am still in this position, I have a responsibility to do so."
He seemed to have finished saying what he had been holding back for a long time, and after a long sigh, he said, "So, kid, I can't offer you a contract like Manchester City, with a monthly salary of millions, and no signing fee of over ten million pounds.
"I can't expect you to understand me, understand the team, but I want to say, please believe me.
"If you can go through another period with this team, when all the difficulties are over, I will give you the best treatment in the world."
This was a genuine outpouring of emotion. Maël put down the album, his mind constantly flashing with Wenger's appearance during Arsenal's peak, his appearance during the construction of the stadium, and his appearance before he came.
He also stared at his current appearance, thinking about his ending at this club in the original history.
A strong impulse and emotion surged into his heart, which was to help him and work with him to recreate a legend belonging to Arsenal, Wenger, and himself in football!
He had thought about it many times, but none as strongly as today.
"I will stay."
Maël nodded with a smile, hoping Wenger would be relieved, "I will definitely not leave before achieving all success.
"No matter how difficult it is, I will get through it with this team and with you, hoping we can finally get our wish."
Wenger looked at Maël, seeing the firmness and ambition in his eyes, he smiled for a long time before saying, "I always feel that God will not let a person fail all the time, anyone will usher in their own cure for pain.
"Now, I think I have got my cure, it just depends on how fast the recovery is."
The two laughed together, and then completed the signing in the Media Room. Maël also picked up the number 7 jersey of this team and officially became the team's second captain.
After completing the signing, the two did not rush home, but took a walk in the stadium, and sat in the stands of Highbury Stadium for a long time.
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