"Aahh!"
Inside the penalty area, Van Persie leaped up excitedly, raising both hands, his feet hooked back behind his body, arching his entire frame.
Another one! They managed to score after two consecutive large-scale clashes.
Every time their emotions surged, they capitalized on the momentum to break through the opponent's defense, venting all their pent-up feelings.
This feeling was simply wonderful!
Collaborating with such a sharp striker was truly a highlight of his career, and he was grateful that he was now on the same team, not an opponent.
"This month is going smoothly!"
Van Persie, while running towards Maël to celebrate, embraced Walcott, raising his hand and laughing, "The contrast with last month is too obvious, we must continue to win!"
"Four consecutive victories!"
Walcott also raised his hand with fervent emotion, waving to the fans as he ran towards Maël.
"Ha!"
Maël didn't just stand foolishly in the penalty area; after a brief celebration, he ran towards the sideline, ready to slide on the wet, soft grass.
It had been a while since he last celebrated with a slide; taking advantage of the overcast, rainy day, he could slide a bit further! Nearly 30 goals! "Come on!"
Maël leaned back and slid out with a flourish, instantly sending mud and water splashing, which then slid down his body.
Van Persie and Walcott, along with Sagna and others who came up from the other side, quickly followed suit, sliding along with him, some even lying down and sliding out.
The corner flag area was instantly filled with a massive splash, but in this atmosphere, it felt more like gorgeous ribbons falling from the sky.
"Bomber!"
On the sidelines, Wenger turned and embraced Philip, then waved to the fans in the stands, signaling them to cheer even louder.
This goal definitely deserved even more deafening cheers.
"Ahght!" The fans cooperated, and even louder shouts quickly reverberated throughout the Emirates Stadium.
Wenger looked at them, immensely happy, clenching his fists and shaking his arms a few times.
"This header?" Philip noticed something was off, grabbing his arm and struggling to articulate, finally blurting out, "Something's not right, is it?"
"I noticed it a long time ago."
Wenger turned back, looking at Maël, who was getting up from the corner flag area and embracing his teammates, his eyebrows dancing with delight as he said, "But he has Speed, explosiveness, and Strength, so it's not strange for him to head the ball like that."
"What about me?" Henry raised his hand, seemingly wanting to say something, "I have those too, why is my header so bad?"
"Haha..."
He amused Wenger and Philip, the latter explaining, "This goal was brilliantly executed, but Maël's header isn't necessarily always this good.
"However... the player has been scoring more and more headers recently, giving the impression that he's constantly improving in this area.
"That's what's really scaring me, is he really going to train his header to the level of his other abilities?"
Wenger shook his head, but his eyes were full of anticipation, he had always been waiting for the day Maël truly became all-rounded.
In the VIP seats, the four people there once again embraced their friends and family to celebrate, this time even more excited than before.
"Maël!"
David shouted innocently towards the field, as if Maël could hear him, "Beautiful! Completely outplayed Ledley King, scoring even in aerial battles!"
"Awoo... mmm!"
Chloe was also cheering, but she released more of her emotions through clapping.
From their angle, they could clearly see the players getting up and embracing each other in the corner flag area.
Her parents quickly leaned towards her, high-fiving and hugging her.
"Chloe." Her mother gently smoothed her hair, sighing, "Arsenal is a club with heart, I never thought you could get to know their players.
"And, the player actually accepted the gift we gave, without looking down on us."
"You are much more cheerful than before. Listen to him and draw well, okay?"
His mother glanced at Maël below and smiled, "If one day, your paintings are very good, maybe you will be as dazzling as him."
"Even if you can't match him, you can get closer, maybe even become friends."
"Take him as an example, he is your strength. You should strive to get closer to him."
Chloe blushed and nodded, then turned to look at Maël, a little absent-minded, not even hearing what her father was saying to her.
"Lionel Maël!"
In front of them, the old man lowered his voice but excitedly explained to the little boy, "A brilliant header! This doesn't seem like a goal a human could make. His body is too outstanding! He jumped with amazing explosiveness, using absolute Strength to knock over Ledley King, and completed the header in the air!" Everyone in the Emirates Stadium is cheering and applauding for him! With continuous brilliant performances in the Derby, he will definitely become the king in the hearts of the fans!"
His commentary was comical. Although it sounded quiet, it was full of emotion.
The little boy clapped his hands excitedly, frowning slightly, as if trying to piece together what this fiery world he couldn't see was like.
"Oh!" The old man, seeing this, added to the drama, "There's a little boy clapping for him! Did you see that? What a handsome boy. Maël will wave to him!"
"Hehe...!" The little boy smiled sweetly, his parents smiling behind him.
On the other side, the two who had just arrived with a group of friends looked at this scene and immediately lowered their heads in discomfort, not even celebrating the goal for long.
"Look at him!"
"He's turning around!"
Just then, a shout rang out from other parts of the VIP area, with many people pointing at the celebration area below the field.
Chloe's eyes lit up, and she quickly stood on tiptoes to look over there, taking out her glasses from her pocket to see more clearly.
She saw Maël pointing this way, making a gun with one hand and placing the other on his crotch.
This time, everyone knew how he was going to celebrate, and all the Arsenal fans provided the sound effects, "Doo doo doo!"
In this wave of sound, Maël, like a comical circus performer, danced left and right with a clown nose, eliciting laughter.
Chloe didn't laugh. She watched Maël's swaying figure, thinking that this celebration was for her, and her body trembled slightly, unable to control her emotions.
"Take a picture!"
David and his friends took pictures behind her, and the old man also moved his wheelchair, holding the little boy to join in the fun, and laughed, "He didn't forget, he's just used to it, celebrating three times for one goal."
"Haha...!" Laughter rang out from here, and Chloe also smiled, picking up a piece of paper and writing a new message.
——"I'm so happy!!"
"Ah!"
Down on the field, Ledley King placed one hand on his lower back. Every time he tried to move slightly, a sharp pain would strike, making him afraid to even breathe deeply.
"Beep beep!"
Urged by the referee, Tottenham's two team doctors quickly came onto the field and checked him.
"Hiss...!" Another sound of gasping air rang out here. Ledley King waved his hands frantically in pain, his speech trembling, "No, no... stretcher, stretcher! I need treatment!"
Beside him, Modrić and Michael Dawson looked at his appearance, then simultaneously looked up at Maël's back.
Too brutal. This thought emerged in both of their minds. Maël, rushing in from outside the penalty area, was like a high-speed truck, frightening.
Modrić's eyes held more pity. He knew that Ledley King might be out for a long time.
As for Michael Dawson, his eyes were filled with pure fear. He was supposed to be standing in that position just now. He would have been the one taking that hit, and he would have been the one injured.
The fire in his heart regarding the Derby had been extinguished a lot, replaced by fear of Maël.
Both of them came to the side of the team doctors, staring blankly as they examined Ledley King's body.
"It should be here."
One of the team doctors touched it a few times, pointing to a spot on the waist, and judged the approximate injury, "At least a hairline fracture, he'll have to rest for at least five weeks."
The other team doctor quickly circled his index fingers, signaling for a substitution.
On the sidelines, in front of Tottenham's coaching bench, all the players clenched their fists. But looking at Maël's strong body and recalling his impact just now, they all felt a sense of powerlessness.
Redknapp's expression was as bad as it could be. The worst situations on the field were losing goals and injuries.
And when the two of them meet in a Derby, it's really hard to find a suitable adjective to describe the team's current situation.
An assistant coach came up behind him, anxiously saying, "Substitute Danny Rose? Where do we put him?"
Redknapp opened his mouth to speak, but after looking at the situation on the field, he said, "Have him play on the wing to defend Maël, and let Michael Dawson return to center back."
"Really?" The assistant coach was not too sure. "Danny Rose defending Maël, isn't that a bit too young? Should we switch him to the other side, that's where he's better at."
Redknapp looked at him speechlessly, without even the strength to speak.
Is this the time to mention the word 'young'?
No matter how young Danny Rose is, he's already 21 this year, three years older than Maël.
Isn't that twisting the knife? "Go quickly!"
Redknapp roared at him, he really couldn't stand it anymore. "I just want a young man to try defending him, young people have drive, just like him, okay?! Go and see what the other three defenders on the field look like now, they're almost scared out of their wits, can they still defend Maël? Tell Danny Rose, he has to pin Maël down on the wing today, and the Tottenham right wing will be his from now on!"
"Okay, okay." The assistant coach quickly ran back, asking Danny Rose to warm up while submitting the substitution request.
Two minutes later, as Ledley King was carried off the field, Danny Rose rushed onto the field, but before he could play, the first half ended.
Tottenham returned to the locker room with a score of 0-2, everyone hanging their heads, not wanting to speak.
"Beep!"
After the second half started, the rhythm of both sides slowed down a bit, playing more restrained, as if they had cooled down a bit.
But Danny Rose was different, the starting position that Redknapp promised was still very tempting to him, he had long wanted to secure a starting position in the Premier League.
Moreover, he hasn't faced too many Premier League-level wingers yet, and can't feel Maël's suppressive power through data comparison and highlight comparison.
For him, Maël is just a slightly better winger, nothing else.
Is it that difficult to defend such a player? Maybe he can restrain such a player and make a name for himself in one fell swoop.
"Boom, boom...!"
In the 51st minute of the match, he and Maël had their first head-on confrontation.
Danny Rose watched Maël rushing up with the ball, lowered his center of gravity, stared at the ball under his feet, and prepared to make a surprise move.
"Hey!" He suddenly took a step forward, his left leg stabbing out at the fastest speed, wanting to poke the football away from under his feet.
Just when he thought Maël was unprepared, the other party suddenly flicked his toe, picking up the football and over his foot.
Another flick!
Juggling! "Aahh!" Arsenal fans were having a great time today, directly sending up a burst of cheers.
Danny Rose's expression changed, he retracted his foot and turned around to follow, but found that Maël was already four or five meters away from him.
"Boom!"
The other party then sent a cross, the ball sliding past their goal, almost poked in by Walcott at the far post.
"Hey! Don't lunge in!" In the center back position, Michael Dawson finally didn't have to take the blame, he quickly threw the blame out.
Danny Rose lowered his head, feeling that he must have been too rash, he had to be calmer later.
"Boom, boom...!"
In the 68th minute of the match, Maël came back with the ball, heading straight for Danny Rose.
Danny Rose lowered his center of gravity, telling himself not to lunge rashly, to block the inside line, release the outside line, and then follow to the end.
"Boom!"
Maël then pushed the ball behind him, and then sped up to wipe past him.
He quickly turned around, just about to start chasing, but felt a huge force coming from his left side, Maël had actually come to a position parallel to him in two steps, and could still give him some physical contact.
"Thump!"
Danny Rose fell to the side, borrowing strength to grab Maël's clothes an instant before falling, pulling the other party towards the ground as well.
Maël didn't fall, but was stopped by his pull, angrily jumping in place twice, spreading his hands towards the referee.
"Beep!" The referee quickly came over and gave Danny Rose a yellow card.
After getting up, Danny Rose still felt a bit dazed, not knowing what he had done to deserve a yellow card.
"Mark him! Mark him!"
His teammates roared at him from a distance. He looked around, feeling even more confused.
Where was he? What was he supposed to do? At the edge of the field.
... Redknapp watched his dazed expression as he turned his head from side to side, and could only purse his lips, feeling a deeper sense of powerlessness.
"Bang!"
Six minutes later, Walcott on Arsenal's right wing seized a counter-attack opportunity, broke into the Tottenham penalty area alone, and unleashed a powerful shot.
Michael Dawson had been closely marking him, and slid out to block the shot at the moment he fired.
But the football hit his leg and still flew into the net.
Michael Dawson lay on the ground, as if falling asleep, unwilling to get up again.
"Yeah!"
The Arsenal players rushed to the corner flag, once again celebrating the team's victory with a collective knee slide.
In the following time, Tottenham abandoned their defense, pushing everyone into Arsenal's half, seeking a chance to score a face-saving goal in the final moments.
It was also to give the traveling fans something to cheer for, an explanation.
"Bang!"
In the 83rd minute, Modrić broke through Alexandre Song and unleashed a Curved Shot, the football flying towards the far corner of the Arsenal goal.
"Boom!" But surprisingly, Szczęsny not only saved the ball, but also caught it firmly in his hands.
"Thump thump thump!"
Seeing Szczęsny catch the football, Maël on the wing quickly sprinted towards the opponent's half, seeking a counter-attack opportunity.
Szczęsny understood, quickly got up and threw the ball towards Maël's path.
Danny Rose had just moved up to attack and wasn't far from his own half, quickly catching up to the football.
"Tactical foul!"
Redknapp was right next to him, waving his hand to signal him to quickly stop Maël.
"Shirr!" Danny Rose had already planned to do so. He looked at Maël in front of him and launched an extremely fierce sliding tackle, ready to be sent off after the foul.
"Thump thump!!"
Maël instantly tensed his body, his strong and powerful thighs using all their strength to stride forward, trying to use his Strength to counteract the sweeping leg.
If it was an ordinary sliding tackle, he would have just taken it, not bothering to exert force and fall even harder.
But this guy's tackle was too vicious. If he stopped and relaxed, he could be injured.
At this time, even if he fell harder, he had to get his body into the best condition, using his Strength to collide with his Strength, protecting himself!
"Crack!"
A crisp sound of bones colliding rang out. When the two bodies made contact, it was actually knee to knee.
It could only be said that Danny Rose was unlucky. If he could have tackled Maël's ankle first, then no matter how exaggerated Maël's Strength was, he could have brought him down.
But it was precisely the knee, where the center of gravity was already relatively high, bearing all the force of the player's lower body.
What was even worse was that, in order to increase the distance of the tackle, he straightened his leg, while Maël was bending his knee at the moment of the tackle.
Thus, everyone at the scene saw an astonishing scene.
"Thump thump... thump!"
Danny Rose fiercely slid and tackled Maël, and even though he tackled him solidly, the latter's body only staggered for a moment before regaining his balance and running forward.
That wasn't the end of it. After completing the tackle, he never got up again.
He sat on his left leg behind him, his right leg stretched straight, his face contorted in pain, and he held his knee, "No!"
Then, he pulled out his left leg from behind his butt, lay straight on the ground, and covered his face with one hand.
Injured! He was the one making the fierce sliding tackle, yet he's the one injured!
All external factors weren't enough to cause this; the decisive factor was... Maël's leg Strength was too explosive! Since others didn't see what happened just now and couldn't imagine such a thing, most haven't realized it yet.
Seeing Danny Rose lying on the ground, they thought he was just tired and resting, or feeling too guilty.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
Their eyes were still on Maël, who was dribbling the ball. His performance in that last challenge was already jaw-dropping.
He endured a sliding tackle and didn't fall, staggering but continuing to dribble! "Wow!" Arsenal fans clutched their heads, both amazed and relieved that the player wasn't injured.
Tottenham fans were completely grim-faced. Could they not even stop him with a tactical foul now? "Bang!"
After taking the ball into the opponent's half, Maël passed it to Walcott on the right, choosing a more sensible way to advance.
Another reason was that his knee was also very painful.
It was an impact injury, a hard knock, nothing serious, but it would definitely hurt for a few days.
He glanced back at Danny Rose on the ground, wanting to call for the Tottenham team doctor, but turned his head to complete the attack first.
When he collided with the opponent, he felt the opponent's knee give way. He knew it was injured.
He mourned for Danny Rose for two seconds and was also very grateful that he had always paid attention to this aspect and developed strong Strength early on, so he could avoid injury at this moment... even transfer it.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
After a few more steps, he quickly saw Walcott pass the ball across, and Van Persie stopped the ball in the middle. After waiting a moment and realizing it wasn't a good opportunity, he passed the ball to Alexandre Song, who was rushing up on the other side.
Song took the ball into the penalty area and blasted it into the upper right corner.
Four to zero! A massacre!
"Yeah!!"
Alexandre Song rushed to the sideline again, sliding on his knees like Maël. He was always imitating, wanting to have the same flair as Maël.
After getting up, he also danced Maël's magical ghost step, but unfortunately, it didn't elicit a 'doo doo doo' sound, only laughter.
Alexandre Song thought they were encouraging him and confidently put a hand to his head, throwing it out to the fans, but the response was minimal.
He frowned. Usually, Maël would get cheers for doing this. What was wrong?
"Haha...!"
Maël rushed over and jumped on his back, "You guys are all secretly happy. Without me dribbling the ball out, where would your goals and assists come from!"
On the sidelines, Redknapp saw the Arsenal players rushing to the sidelines to celebrate again, and his emotions completely collapsed.
He stood in front of the coach's bench rain shelter, put his head on the glass of the shelter, and then slowly exerted force, fighting against inanimate objects to relieve his own pressure.
Zero to four.
Even worse than last time! Why couldn't they meet Arsenal when they were in bad shape? Why did they always encounter them at their strongest? "Redknapp."
Beside him, the assistant coach patted his shoulder, pursing his lips with an awkward look.
Redknapp subconsciously turned his head, waiting for him to speak, but saw him pointing to the field.
Turning his head to look, there, two team doctors were running on again with medical kits.
"No way?"
Redknapp was dumbfounded, "That's Danny Rose? From that last challenge?!"
"Yes," the assistant coach nodded, his expression heavy.
Redknapp felt like he was about to have a brain hemorrhage. He couldn't imagine that the worst-case scenario of losing the ball and having players injured at the same time could happen twice in one game.
And it was caused by one of the opponent's players, the same player who scored a goal.
"Substitution!"
The team doctor, squatting beside Danny Rose on the field, circled his two index fingers again. This time, their expressions seemed even worse.
Redknapp completely exploded, emotionally exclaiming, "I really don't know how the team's usual physiotherapy and Strength training are done. Why does this kind of thing happen so frequently?! Why? Are we going to run out of players?!"
The assistant coach and substitute players next to him lowered their heads slightly upon hearing these words.
The reason was definitely not these two points; the variable was still the person himself. However, Redknapp certainly wasn't willing to admit that everything was fine right now. He just needed to vent and calm down.
Redknapp's chest heaved violently. He went to the bench, wanting to find a defender, but he couldn't find one anymore.
At this moment, his longing for Kyle Walker reached its peak.
If he were here, the club wouldn't be in this predicament.
Damn Arsenal, poaching one of their players near the end of the transfer window, causing them to have no time to buy a new strong defender, only strengthening the forward midfield.
"Number Seven, Maël, off the field, thank you for the excellent performance he brought today!"
At this moment, Redknapp heard the stadium DJ's announcement. He turned his head and saw Maël running onto the field.
And standing at the extension of the center circle, doing abdominal crunches to warm up and prepare to enter the field, was none other than Kyle Walker.
He was about to make his debut! Game-winning goal!
*"Bang!"*
Redknapp ushered in his darkest moment. He punched the rain shelter, accidentally breaking a relatively soft piece of glass, which gave him a little release.
On the other side, Wenger looked at his appearance, secretly delighted, pretending to be distressed on the surface, "Let Tottenham find someone to repair it!"
Maël also came down at this time. He didn't say much to Wenger. After returning to the bench, he asked the team doctor for an ice pack and applied it to his left knee.
He still had basic common sense, and he would leave the next recovery to Lewis.
Was this considered his first injury? "Haha..." Thinking of this, he couldn't help but laugh. If even minor injuries counted, then every Football player would be considered injured every day.
"Beep! Beep! Beep—!"
Before long, the game ended, and Tottenham ultimately failed to score a goal to save face.
Four to zero! Arsenal achieved another clean sheet! Also their fourth consecutive Premier League victory! In these four games, they defeated Manchester United, Bolton Wanderers, Blackburn Rangers, and Tottenham, scoring 15 goals and conceding none! "Glory glory arsenal! Glory glory arsenal~!"
At the Emirates Stadium, a song newly composed by the fans, "Glory Glory Arsenal," rang out at this time. Because the syllables of 'arsenal' were few, they could only twist the first sound twice.
But it didn't matter, the vibe was still right, mainly because the mockery was full.
This song was popularized by Manchester United fans. Based on the American Civil War-era "Battle Hymn of the Republic," they adapted a song called "Glory Glory Manchester United," which spread to almost every street and alley in the 80s and 90s.
However, the first to adapt it was Tottenham Hotspur, who had been singing this song as early as the 60s.
Today, Tottenham Hotspur also entered the field singing this song, and they kept singing it before conceding goals, but then there was no sound.
As arch-rivals, Arsenal would definitely not give up this opportunity. They directly adapted it on the spot and sang it to send off the Tottenham fans.
"Oh ho...!"
Off the field, the players on the Arsenal bench all rushed out of the field and came to the center of the field to celebrate with the players on the field.
They formed a circle again, holding hands and dancing in the center circle.
"20 wins!"
Maël had just glanced at the data on the bench and shouted happily at this moment: "We have already won 20 games in the league! Looking back, it's really full of emotion, we have won so many without realizing it."
"Hahaha!"
"Yes!"
Wenger walked over at this time and smiled at everyone: "In the 0304 season, we won a total of 26 games and drew 12 games, and finally won the Premier League championship trophy."
"Young men, you are very close... but don't be careless. The competition in the Premier League this season is very fierce. If possible, I hope you aim for 28-30 wins, or even higher!"
"Definitely!"
"Okay!"
"Charge, charge, charge!"
"The championship is near!"
Maël smiled and jumped with them. When the number of wins reached 20, he really felt that the championship was near!
After leaving the field, he went to the elevator and took the elevator all the way to the box area.
There were quite a few people leaving, and they were visibly stunned when they saw him, thinking they had seen wrong.
"Maël?"
"Ah!"
"Come on, let's take a picture together!"
Many mature women and ladies couldn't contain themselves and rushed over with their phones, regardless of their husbands being by their sides.
Of course, their husbands would probably understand the impulse to take a photo with Maël.
Many men also held their phones, standing aside with smiles, waiting.
Maël hurriedly took photos with a few people, then headed to the private box he had booked, wanting to say hello to everyone before leaving the stadium.
Along the way, many people exclaimed in surprise, and many followed behind him, wanting to see where he was going.
"A big star is here!"
When he entered the box, everyone inside was waiting for him, as if they knew he would definitely come.
Maël hugged David and the others in turn, and when he hugged Chloe, he asked with a smile, "Did you see my celebration? I jumped seven times in a row."
"Mmm-hmm!" Chloe nodded emphatically, her eyes filled with joy that seemed about to condense into water droplets. She picked up the piece of paper she had written on long ago.
—"I'm so happy!"
Maël smiled, feeling very content in his heart. He patted her shoulder and separated from her.
He then took off his jersey and handed it to the little boy who was still looking around for him, "You don't have my jersey yet, so this one is for you. Wear it when you're older."
"I can wear it now!" The little boy smiled happily. The jersey was one of the few things he could clearly feel, so he took it and immediately put it on.
His mother wanted to help him, but his father stopped her.
He struggled for a while and finally put the jersey on. The match-worn jersey ended up covering his thighs, like a dress.
"Haha..."
A burst of laughter rang out. The little boy himself was also laughing, shaking the jersey with his hands in a showy manner.
This scene was also noticed by the fans outside the box. They were all from the VIP area, and they had been sitting with Chloe and the others earlier, always feeling that their behavior was strange.
But now it seemed that this was a charity event organized by the club or Maël. "Oh." Many people held their heads again, feeling guilty for their misunderstanding during the game.
Maël didn't stay with them for too long. He waved to them one last time, "Then I'll see you again someday. I hope you are happy every day, and I hope this season can bring you a championship."
"Chloe, be sure to keep painting. I'm waiting to receive your painting next time."
"David, when you're fully recovered, I'll invite you to sit on the club's away team bus with us and go to away games together, so you don't have to ride your bike."
"Haha, bye!"
He left wearing only a white undershirt. When he turned around, the muscle lines on his back were very obvious, making several people couldn't help but take a few more glances.
"Bye."
It wasn't until Maël walked out of the box that they waved their hands woodenly.
"What a memorable experience, I'll never forget it in my life."
"He's too good to us."
"It's not easy to meet someone like that, we really have to cherish him. I look forward to him achieving all success."
"Yes, it's easy to identify with him. He'll make everyone like him from different angles."
A wave of sighs rang out, mostly from people who were seeing Maël for the first time today.
Chloe, thinking about something, her face turned slightly red again. She rubbed the paper in her hand, her eyes slowly becoming firm.
...
At the post-match press conference, Redknapp was sitting on pins and needles, dealing with reporters' questions.
"Mr. Redknapp, you said in the first half of the season that Tottenham would end Arsenal's winning streak, that what wasn't accomplished in the 03-04 season would be settled in 11-12, but why hasn't it been settled yet?"
"Well... that's just how Football is, there are losers and there are winners, that's the charm of the sport."
"."
"After Kyle Walker left, it seems the team doesn't have any decent full-backs? Especially in today's match against Maël, where two players were injured in succession. Was Kyle Walker's departure a big loss?"
"Every player encounters injuries, it's the athlete's nemesis. I mourn for the two and hope this doesn't happen in the future."
"."
"Can you face the problem squarely?"
"."
"."
"Okay, the team lost to Arsenal zero to four. Does this expose problems in both the offensive and defensive lines?"
"Just a bad state, and some accidents in the game."
"."
"What accidents?"
"Injuries."
"."
"Okay, since Mr. Redknapp says it's injuries, then what caused the injuries? Is it insufficient team training, unhealthy diet, or inability to adapt to high-intensity games?"
Redknapp finally gritted his teeth and said what the reporters wanted to hear, "Because Maël has a different intensity."
After this sentence was spoken, the press conference became normal, and Redknapp was not subjected to too much difficulty, and finally ended the press conference uneventfully.
"Strongly takes 20 wins! Arsenal continues undefeated with 20 wins and 5 draws, with only the last 13 games left in the Premier League season!" - Premier League Official
"4 consecutive wins! Mr. Wenger's team has scored 15 goals and conceded 0 in the past 4 rounds! Form fully recovered! Will they regain the Premier League title after 7 years?" - French L'Équipe
"Redknapp personally admits that Maël, a player with a different intensity, caused two Tottenham players to be seriously injured in this game, and not by fouling." - BBC
"Too miserable! Danny Rose injured himself trying to tackle Maël!" - Daily Mail
"The story of Maël and four Disabled Fans, the player has repeatedly talked to them after the game, encouraging them to face life bravely." - Football Record
"Nearly 30 goals! Is Maël about to break Henry's Premier League goal record? Will he win his second Premier League Monthly Best in February!" - London Evening Standard
After this round, most of the attention is still focused on Arsenal and Maël, they are now the top of the English Football World.
Just because they are really close to the final championship!
The next day at noon, in the latest episode of the BBC's football program, Andy Cole and Alan Shearer looked at each other, starting today's program in an awkward way.
A photo was displayed on the big screen behind them, a photo of Andy Cole playing for Newcastle United, from the 93-94 season.
In the photo, he raised his right hand high, full of vigor. In that season, at the age of 22, he set a record of 34 Premier League goals in a single season.
"Very beautiful uniform."
Andy Cole pointed to the photo with a smile, trying to find something to say, "I always thought Newcastle's uniform design was very good, don't you think?"
He didn't really want to mention the Premier League goal record of that season, because the monster that came up from the second-tier league was really close to his record.
"It is indeed very good-looking." Alan Shearer nodded quickly and smiled: "I still like the club uniforms of the 90s, the polo shirt design made it look very fashionable at the time."
Immediately afterwards, the screen turned, and a photo of Alan Shearer raising his hands high, wearing a crown, appeared.
In the photo, he was also wearing a polo shirt jersey. That was the 94-95 season, and he also became the Premier League goal record holder with 34 league goals in a single season.
At the same time, he helped Blackburn Rovers win the championship in that season, winning the team's third top league title.
"Blackburn's jersey is also good." Alan Shearer pointed to the photo and smiled: "Of course, the guys at that time were more handsome."
"Haha..." Andy Cole laughed aside, but looking at these old photos, the smile gradually disappeared, as if he had been moved back to his memories.
This is their memory of their youth. Later, everyone seemed to have become mouth cannon commentators in the mouths of the media and fans.
Only when a certain speech causes controversy, or the record is about to be overtaken, will it receive some attention.
How many people remember their vigor at that time.
"Let's talk about Maël."
The host Lineker appeared on the show, guiding them, "One round of the league has passed, and the player has steadily scored another goal, bringing the total number of goals to 27."
"Only 7 goals away from your record, and there are still 13 league games left."
Andy Cole looked at Alan Shearer, wanting him to speak first. The latter hesitated for a moment, then took a breath.
He pondered for a while and said, "I think, now that things have developed to this point, it would be a low-probability event if the player doesn't break our record."
Andy Cole nodded with a heavy expression on the side, but was immediately cued by Alan Shearer, "What about you? Any thoughts? You know, unlike me, you came from Arsenal's youth academy and even played for the team."
"Ah?"
Andy Cole smiled, glanced at Lineker, and after realizing he couldn't avoid it, he raised his eyebrows and said, "What should I say? Congratulate Wenger? Hope people don't forget us?"
"Haha... Maybe Alan Shearer, if this record is broken, you and I can only pray that Maël performs even better in the future.
"Because only if he is more outstanding, the more people pay attention to him, the more people will see—Maël broke Andy Cole and Alan Shearer's Premier League goal record in the 11-12 season.
"That way, we will also be remembered by people, and maybe remembered for even longer."
"Haha...!" The black man indeed had some comedic talent. As soon as these words came out, Alan Shearer and Lineker all laughed.
The big screen at this time showed Maël's photo, a capture of his magical ghost-step dance celebration, which had become a symbol of the player.
The three of them looked over, and as they watched, their faces were slowly enveloped in emotion.
Too young, too amazing... If people can't feel Lionel Maël's unparalleled talent at this moment, then in all likelihood, they will feel it when they recall it in the future.
When people experience many things, they are numb and ignorant at the time, and only aftertaste can give them a clearer feeling.
On the same night that the BBC program aired, Transfermarkt officially updated its latest market value rankings.
This time, unlike before, the media and fans all unanimously searched for Maël's name first.
It's not that his attention is greater than Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo, it's still far from that. Mainly, there should be no suspense that Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo occupy the first and second positions, and the increase should not be much.
But Maël is different. Since the last market value update, he has successively won the Golden Boy Award, the Puskas Award, broken 30+ goals in the Premier League and Champions League, and was selected into the top ten of the Ballon d'Or.
The accumulation of so many important honors, and the optimism of professionals from major award-giving institutions, will inevitably cause his market value to increase sharply.
Everyone is looking forward to how much Transfermarkt, which has always symbolized authority, will increase Maël's market value this time.
London, bar street.
Inside Jones Tavern, a large group of people were searching with their mobile phones, and soon one person was the first to see it.
Like the person who arrived in America by boat during the American gold rush and was the first to see the Statue of Liberty, he raised his hand and shouted excitedly: "70 million euros! The player's market value is now 70 million euros!"
"Wow!" There was an uproar in the tavern. Many people had already had a few drinks, and when they heard this shocking news, their hands trembled even more.
This kind of trembling quickly spread to the whole body, causing their bodies to tremble, as if they themselves were worth 70 million euros.
"Another increase of 25 million!"
"Great!"
"This is the biggest increase this time, right? I don't believe the top two can increase by more than 20 million."
"That's for sure, they've already broken 100 million, what would it be like to increase by another 20 million? Could someone's market value break 150 million?"
"Messi is ranked first, this time it's 135 million, Cristiano Ronaldo is second, this time it's 110 million, third Iniesta, 80 million, fourth Rooney, 80 million, fifth is Maël, 70 million!"
"Fifth!"
"Awesome!!"
"Fifth in the world in market value, it can be said that this gives enough respect to young players! Next update, I'm optimistic that he will surpass Rooney!"
"..."
After a burst of noisy discussion, Jones, the star figure in the tavern, spoke. He was also very excited, "Breaking 100 million is not far away, and it's normal. Such a young top 10 Ballon d'Or, it's unreasonable not to break 100 million.
"How much is Neymar? Is it 50 million euros? He was 11th in the Ballon d'Or at 19, it should be good, right?"
"No." Someone then shook his head and replied: "The highest-ranked Brazilian player this time is Hulk, who plays for Zenit, he has 45 million euros.
"Neymar's performance after returning to Santos is average, maybe he's about to come to Europe, recuperating his body. His market value is only 40 million euros."
Jones nodded and waved happily: "After this wave, I am more confident that he will win the Premier League Golden Boot. Today, I will treat everyone to drinks!"
"Not continuing to bet?"
"What 'pressure'? The odds are no more than 3.5 now, who cares? I got in at 50+!"
"Haha!"
"Hey, is this the highest value in world football for players under 20?"
"Let me see."
Someone rummaged through their phone and quickly found a report from Transfermarkt's official website.
"The highest valued player under 21 in history! Maël sets a record. If he wins the Premier League title, he is very likely to become the only player in the current Premier League with a value exceeding 100 million!" - Transfermarkt Official
The person looked up, nodded heavily twice, and grinned from ear to ear.
"Fifth in the world! Since entering the top 50 in Transfermarkt's valuation rankings this season, Maël has become unstoppable, entering the top five in the latest valuation update!" - Football Record
"Is the Premier League about to welcome a player with an official Transfermarkt valuation of over 100 million? Maël is only 18 years old this year, and his enormous potential has caused his value to skyrocket. His value has increased by 50 million so far this season!" - UK's The Times
"70 million euros! Second only to Rooney! Voting shows that Maël has become the most anticipated player in the French Team for this European Cup!" - French magazine Football
At 9 PM, news agencies and media outlets around the world spread the news, and Maël once again garnered a wave of popularity.
Among these reports, one from the Data Statistics Agency was particularly eye-catching, sparking a lot of discussion among fans as soon as it was released.
"141 million euros! Since Maël returned to Arsenal, the team has maintained a hot streak and shown competitiveness for the championship. The value of many players in the team has seen a huge increase, with a total increase of 141 million!" - Data Statistics Agency
It first attracted attention with a very astonishing number, and then led people to click in by amplifying Maël's contribution.
On the main page of the report, it used about two hundred and fifty characters to explain its point of view.
"In July last year, Maël returned to the team. At that time, Arsenal had just experienced their 7th consecutive season without winning any of the four major trophies, and the players' condition fluctuated. Including Maël's 20 million, the total value was only 234 million euros.
"And this season, with the arrival of Maël, Arsenal has achieved an amazing record of 20 wins and 5 draws in the league, and reached the EFL Cup final! Many players in the team have performed stably, often achieving small climaxes in stages! Especially Maël, Van Persie, Alexandre Song, Arteta, Walcott and others, have all seen considerable increases in value.
"As of the latest update, the total value of Arsenal's team has reached 375 million euros, making it the ninth most valuable club in the world! It is hard to say that Maël is not responsible for this. His impact on this team is huge. Without him, the club would not have seen a value increase of nearly 150 million!"
This hype was very interesting, enough to make Maël's fans spasm with their phones in their hands at this moment.
Lighting a cigarette and playing the theme song of Fast & Furious 5, they shook their heads at home, closed their eyes, and savored it carefully for a while.
And below this, fans from all over the world also left their own opinions.
"I think it's right, without him, the team would still be the same this season."
"Van Persie's value was only 35 million last season, and it's already 60 million this season. That's another increase of over 25 million, purely because he's been dragging the team while working himself to death. This season, it would be at most 40 million."
"There's some truth to it, but it's definitely unreasonable to say it's all Maël's credit."
"If you're an Arsenal fan, don't argue, anyway, he brought a brand new look!"
"Yeah, why do we care about the value? That's something the management should consider. We just need to watch the game well. At least he brought hope for a championship."
"Seeing everyone say that, it's a side way of saying that they agree that Maël has increased the value of this team."
"Otherwise? Don't even talk about others, just talk about himself. A player who didn't cost a penny in transfer fees has gone from zero to 70 million euros in two seasons. Isn't that already a value increase of 70 million?"
"Indeed, thinking about it this way, I quite agree with this comment."
"Kroenke, cry! Usmanov, get drunk! One Maël has ruined your phased acquisition plan. If you want to buy all the shares of the team, prepare to take out 200 million euros more!"
"No matter what, Arsenal and Wenger are the biggest winners!"
"It's Maël."
"."
Fans left their own opinions, and it seemed that they all felt that it was quite interesting to look at it from this perspective.
At 10 PM that night, at the Colney Training Base, outside the First Team head coach's office.
"Hahaha"
Before Wenger even walked in, he heard a burst of laughter coming from inside.
He was a little confused. He had just gone out for an hour-long night run at the base, and when he was about to go home, he saw many missed calls, so he wanted to come over and take a look.
"Haha!"
Pushing the door open, the laughter inside became louder and clearer, and everyone was clapping their hands, radiant.
"Mr. Wenger."
Philip was the first to see him, and he said with a smile, "Do you know how much Maël's latest updated valuation is?"
"Updated?" Wenger came to the water dispenser next to his desk to get water, took a sip after filling it, and then asked, "How much? 60 million?"
"70 million."
Wenger paused in his drinking motion, his arm suspended in the air, his eyes darting left and right to observe the expressions of others.
After realizing that this was not a prank, he put down his water cup, looking surprised.
"Fifth in the world." Philip seemed very happy to see Wenger like this, and continued, "In the Premier League, he's second only to Rooney, much higher than Agüero and those guys."
"He's likely to break 100 million this season." Wenger picked up his water cup again and took a sip, but the shock in his eyes didn't diminish. He also recalled Maël's various achievements during this period.
The youngest Mr. Golden Boy in history, the youngest top ten Ballon d'Or nominee in history, the youngest Puskas Award winner, and a bunch of other miscellaneous records.
A genius!
A groundbreaking genius!
Looking at it this way, it doesn't seem strange that he's worth 70 million euros.
On the contrary, it would be strange if it wasn't this number.
"What about the total valuation this time?" Wenger asked, which was also a point of concern for him.
"375 million euros." Philip was just about to tell him this, but he didn't expect him to ask first, and he said with a smile, "We've entered the top ten in the world, and the gap between us and the first place is only 179 million euros."
"Really?"
Wenger was even more surprised, and he took out his phone to search for relevant information.
Philip smiled even more brightly, "Really, some media even wrote a special post saying that Maël brought this about.
"The fans are secretly pleased, Kroenke and Usmanov really wasted a few years."
"Haha..." Speaking of this, a burst of laughter also rang out in the room, the Arsenal coaching staff were obviously secretly pleased as well.
Wenger opened Transfermarkt and saw the exact numbers, a smile appearing on the corner of his mouth, "That's great, that's great, who says you can only create a top-valued team by throwing money at it?
"We've proven that a team that plays better and better will also become a top-valued team."
After saying this, he pointed at Philip, "That media outlet is right, at least half of this is due to Maël, he's the one who's helping us play better and better."
Wenger also laughed along with the others. If someone were to walk past the door at this time, they would definitely be surprised again.
Philip looked at him from the side, feeling a burst of joy from the bottom of his heart.
From seeing a glimmer of hope, to trying to grasp that hope, and now seeing a bigger glimmer of hope... Mr. Wenger, this season can be considered a complete turnaround, and his life has also ushered in a turning point.
That's good, as long as Wenger is doing well, this group of them will also do well, and the team will also do well.
"Buzz buzz!"
His phone suddenly vibrated, and at the same time, a 'Missed Call - 1 second' notification popped up at the top. Two people had actually called him at the same time.
Seeing the notes on these two calls, his eyes flashed with surprise, and he walked out of the office to answer.
"I can't directly contact Wenger, or rather, I don't have the face to talk to Wenger about this."
A deep voice came from the other end of the phone, with a hint of determination, "Help me inform him from the side that I want him to be the middleman and start the final acquisition negotiations with that guy.
"This time, someone must succeed, either me or him, or maybe we two will reach an agreement? Who knows, let's start the negotiations first, and by the end of the season, I must have a result."
Philip quickly agreed, his breathing becoming rapid. After hanging up this call, he called back the number from the missed call just now.
"Maybe he has the same meaning as me, the same idea? You were just on a call with Usmanov, right?
"Don't worry about anything else, let Wenger be the middleman, and we'll start another round of negotiations.
"But one thing I'm more determined about than Usmanov is the belief in fully acquiring this great club.
"But don't worry, there will be a result this time, believe us."
"Beep beep..."
Philip put down the phone, turned around and walked into the office, looking at Wenger for a long time without saying a word.
Mr. Wenger had been watching him since he came in and noticed the phone in his hand.
Having dealt with each other for so long, everyone could easily guess what he had been doing, who had called, and what they wanted.
Mr. Wenger took a deep breath, recalling the perseverance and sacrifices of these years, the grievances and resentment of being the club's 'meek wife,' and finally said, "I want to refuse them, really, but I will work hard for Arsenal to make it happen."
ps: So tired, so tired, so tired. I looked at the time and realized it was already 4 o'clock.
I haven't watched Football in a long time. Today, with all the games kicking off, it made me itch for it.
Finally finished writing. I've written almost 30,000 words from the moment I opened my eyes until now. This life is really hard, and it's not for humans!
Fortunately, I have everyone's support and encouragement. Thank you. I also want to ask for monthly tickets to see if I can make some progress! Now, I'm going to drink two bottles of beer and watch the highlights! Experience half an hour of happy life after work every day!
Tomorrow, I'll sit in front of the computer again and write all day. I hope everyone can take some time out of their busy schedules and live happily!
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