October 29th, Arsenal's final match of their third month of the season is about to begin, as they travel to Stamford Bridge to challenge Chelsea.
After this round of matches, on October 30th, the Italian Tuttosport will announce the 30-man shortlist for the 2011 Golden Boy Award, with the official winner confirmed in December at an awards ceremony.
"I don't think there's any suspense."
On the bus to Stamford Bridge, Alexandre Song sat next to Maël and said, "The only one who can compete with you is Götze from Dortmund, but he obviously has nothing on you.
"Götze had 8 goals and 11 assists last season, and so far this season he has 4 goals and 2 assists, totaling 12 goals and 13 assists in top-tier leagues.
"But what about you? This season, you're sitting at the top of the Premier League scorer list with 12 goals in 9 rounds, and you also have 5 assists, putting you in the top ten for assists as well.
"If you count the 4 goals and 4 assists in the Champions League, you already have 16 goals and 8 assists."
"Sh*t!" Alexandre Song couldn't help but exclaim, the impact of these stats was too strong. "I've been at Arsenal for so long, and my stats have never been as high as yours are now."
"Different positions, that's all." Maël patted his shoulder in consolation. Comparing his stats with Götze's, it seemed he did have a clear advantage.
And this was only the end of October, there was still a full month of November ahead! With his recent hot form, he would definitely be able to widen the gap even further! The only reason he could think of for the organizers not giving it to him was that Götze was a year older, and if he didn't get it this year, he might not have another chance.
But that reason was undoubtedly a bit of a stretch... Maël believed that as long as he had overwhelming stats, all reasons would be shattered, and he would definitely win the first important individual honor of his career.
Once he won the Golden Boy Award!
He would officially step onto the mainstream stage of world football, officially starting his pursuit of a Grand Slam! This would be a signal, the first shot he fired for himself to enter the center of football.
"Blue is the colour, football is the game!! We're all together and winning is our aim!!"
As the bus slowly drove around Stamford Bridge, the Chelsea fans' singing gradually became clearer, they had already packed the area around the stadium.
This was a team that had been in the middle of the league standings, having only won the league title once in its history... But the arrival of Russian oligarch Abramovich changed everything.
He used nearly £2 billion in investment to build this team into a top-tier European powerhouse!
In just a few years, they won more than a dozen championship trophies, including a Champions League title! Although Abramovich's money offensive was heavily criticized in the early days, with people believing he had ruined pure English football.
But for Chelsea fans, he was a great owner, a respectable owner!
Even, if he hadn't started the Premier League's money era with his lavish spending, the Premier League might not have reached the heights it would in the future.
He led an era, driving the Premier League's prosperity, but became a victim of the lie that 'football is separate from politics', and in the end, he couldn't even protect his own property.
When everything came to an end, he gave his beloved team one last gift... £2.5 billion, with all debts written off, effectively leaving the team with nothing.
"A man should be like Abramovich."
This was the most sublime evaluation of this legendary owner by fans later on, the best recognition of him.
Maël also liked him very much, he admired everyone who was willing to give so much for what they loved, and appreciated his sense of loyalty.
If he ended his career as an athlete in the future, he might also try to become someone like Abramovich... But that should still be a long way off.
"Chelsea! Chelsea!"
Regaining his focus, he looked at the fanatical Chelsea fans outside the window, putting his mind on the game.
Respect for the Chelsea owner and their team's legends would not affect their adversarial relationship at this moment, he was eager to defeat them, to help Arsenal achieve an important accomplishment—
A perfect record in October! In the first five games of the month, covering the Premier League, Champions League, and EFL Cup, they had won them all! A clean sweep of victories! Now, Chelsea was the last obstacle on their path this month.
As long as they defeated them, the team would complete an important milestone, and they would also prove that they were capable of competing for the highest domestic honor! "But be careful."
Van Persie, sitting in the front seat, turned around and said to Maël, "Chelsea fans' hostility towards us is not much less than that of Tottenham fans."
"Because of the London Derby?" Maël guessed the reason, but was a little puzzled, and said, "But the two teams don't have any past grievances, even if it's a Derby, the intensity shouldn't be close to the North London Derby, right?"
"Football is a sport that needs passion, and every team will have imaginary enemies."
At this time, assistant coach Philip, who was sitting next to him, spoke up, explaining this point: "And Chelsea's imaginary enemies are Arsenal and Tottenham Hotspur.
"This is easy to understand, the three teams are all in London, and they are all top teams, so it is naturally impossible to coexist peacefully."
"Wait, Tottenham isn't." Another assistant coach turned around and interrupted, his tone very serious.
"Haha... Okay."
Philip nodded with a smile, and continued: "Arsenal has had better results in the past ten years, so naturally, Chelsea regards us as their biggest competitor.
"They're building momentum every game, creating a dead-rivalry atmosphere. They want to crush us and become the kings of London football."
Maël nodded slightly after hearing this. From this perspective, Arsenal was indeed a threat to Chelsea's pursuit of being the 'face of London football'.
In fact, over the past 10 years, they had indeed achieved better results and were subtly gaining momentum to replace Arsenal.
But now that he was here, he would strive to change all of this and restore his team to the top of London.
"But luckily,"
One of the assistant coaches added, "Chelsea fans are just hostile towards us, not dismissive or anything. They usually directly insult Tottenham."
"Haha!" A burst of laughter erupted in the bus as the players laughed and entered Stamford Bridge stadium, preparing to face this major battle.
Maël closed his eyes to calm his mind, hoping they could successfully overcome this Big Six team.
"Buzz...!"
As the match approached and the players came out to warm up, Stamford Bridge stadium gradually became noisy.
Arsenal's traveling fans were all seated early, wearing team jerseys from various seasons, the earliest dating back to the 98 season, as well as away and third away jerseys, and of course, casual wear.
"Let's go!"
"Undefeated!"
"Beat Chelsea!"
The fans stood on their seats, both apprehensive and excited, not planning to sit down. Many people put their hands to their mouths and shouted at the warming-up players.
They were of different ages and skin colors, but they were united as Arsenal fans, looking forward to the same goal! An undefeated month!
This was an important achievement that wouldn't come with any crown, but the team hadn't achieved it for several years, and the fans were holding their breath, hoping it would come true today.
And above them, in front of the luxuriously decorated box area, were several rows of VIP seats.
This was a design found in every stadium. The wealthy and distinguished who purchased box tickets could choose to watch the game while drinking expensive red wine in the box, or they could come outside to experience the fiery atmosphere of the match.
Abramovich was someone who liked to sit outside. On this day, he was again sitting on the railing with his female assistant, looking forward to the start of the match.
At this time, he didn't have a thick beard yet, nor did he look haggard. His light yellow hair made him look like an amiable and approachable uncle next door.
"He's here."
Abramovich patted his female assistant's shoulder, got up, greeted a circle of dignitaries around him, and walked towards the box.
After entering the box, he smiled and opened his arms to the person on the sofa, "Welcome to my territory, Mr. Mendes."
"How many times have we met?"
Mendes walked up and hugged him, uncertainly saying, "I can't remember, I haven't been here much since Mourinho left."
Abramovich also forgot, shrugged, and didn't continue the topic, sitting down and opening a bottle of foreign wine, "Ready to watch my team defeat Arsenal here?"
"Haha." Mendes laughed twice, glanced at Maël warming up on the field, and said, "If possible, I hope this match is a draw, so neither of us will be embarrassed."
"It won't be a draw."
Abramovich confidently shook his head, poured a glass of foreign wine for Mendes, took a breath, and prepared to say something.
"Stop." Mendes waved his hand, already guessing what he was going to say, "You told me you were just here to watch a match. I've expressed many times that the player currently has no intention of leaving Arsenal."
Abramovich paused while pouring the wine, but his face didn't show any other expression, and he said with a faint smile, "The player wants a championship, right?
"Then why would he think that a team with pitifully little investment is more likely to win a championship than a team with large investments every year?
"The results of the two clubs over the past 10 years also prove this point, don't they? Since there's a chance to win a championship no matter which team he goes to, then why doesn't he count a large amount of money and compete for the championship at Chelsea?
"I've said long ago that if he's willing to leave, I can give him the most generous contract in the history of the English League."
Mendes picked up the wine glass, took a sip, and said, "I can answer you this, from my perspective, but you can't get angry."
Seeing Abramovich shake his head, Mendes said seriously, "Because compared to becoming a legend at Chelsea, becoming a legend at Arsenal is obviously more tempting, and it's not just a little bit.
"If Mr. Abramovich was also a player in the early stages of his career and had the ability to change the game... then you would definitely be more inclined to help Arsenal win honors."
Abramovich shook his wine glass, carefully considering Mendes' words, putting himself in Maël's shoes.
But he quickly frowned and shook his head, indicating that he didn't understand. Their positions were different, their identities and everything else were different, so how could he truly empathize.
"First, there's Arsenal's history."
Mendes, while speaking, observed Abramovich's expression to ensure he could stop in time before the other party got angry. "Does Mr. Abramovich agree with this? Arsenal is a team with more history, more like a true giant.
"They are legends in the English Football World, never relegated after being promoted to the top league, and also legends in the world football scene. Of course, many people don't acknowledge this."
Abramovich's expression was indifferent, but he didn't directly object.
"Let's take a step back."
Mendes took another sip of wine and said, "Countless great founders have brought this club to the 'legendary' threshold, and they are now just one kick away.
"Including the Frenchman Wenger, he is the most respected founder of this team... and he is still with this team now."
He glanced at the coaching bench on the sidelines and pointed with a smile, "Standing right there."
"So?" Abramovich spoke. There were endless things to talk about regarding this team, which could take hours to discuss in detail.
But what does this have to do with Maël? Aren't they talking about players?
Mendes waved his hand, signaling him to listen first, "As long as Wenger is still there, even if Arsenal's recent performance is not good, this is still the best era—an era most likely to establish a legendary status!
"As long as they complete the final step, not only will Arsenal become a legend among clubs, but Wenger will also become a legend among coaches.
"This is a scene everyone wants to see, with no more disputes. Wenger and Arsenal create a brilliant era, with a very beautiful ending."
Abramovich continued to stare at Mendes, wondering what he was trying to say. This was just fantasy.
"Maël."
Mendes finally mentioned the player. He approached Abramovich with his wine glass, his voice soft but profound, "Is the person who can help them accomplish all of this, and his name will become immortal along with Arsenal and Wenger.
"It's not just about achieving success; too many players have done that. He wants to become immortal."
Abramovich suddenly froze in place, maintaining a posture for a long time without moving. After a long while, he turned his head to look at the field, shook his wine glass, and took a big gulp. "Let's watch the game."
...
As the time was about to pass 5 o'clock, the referee stood near the center circle, one hand reaching towards the sky, ready to blow the whistle at any moment.
Maël stood on the left wing, his eyes scanning Chelsea's lineup, seeing many superstar faces.
Terry, Lampard, Ashley Cole, Torres, and goalkeeper Čech.
They were playing a 4-4-2 formation today, and almost every player in each position had a value of over 25 million euros. This was a very luxurious lineup!
Once upon a time, he had always fantasized about competing on the same field with these big-name stars, but now it had become the norm.
He often felt a sense of glory, but his mentality was very different from before... He was also slowly moving towards the same position as them.
"When will others be honored to compete on the same field with me?"
Maël couldn't help but think of this question, but it would definitely be after winning many important championships.
His current accumulation definitely couldn't compare with these veteran stars. When they stood together, the feeling they gave others was different.
They had a legendary aura of participating in countless classic matches, completing classic seasons, and winning super honors.
This was what he didn't have now.
However, he believed that all of this would fall on him in the future.
"Bip!"
At 5 o'clock, the referee blew the whistle to start the match. Torres kicked off from the center circle, and Chelsea's midfield and defense began to pass the ball around.
Maël bypassed Sturridge in front of him and rushed towards their backfield.
Lampard didn't seem to want him to rush so fast, so he stepped sideways to block him on his way forward, a bit of a show of force to the young man.
*"Bang!"* Maël didn't slow down and crashed head-on into Lampard's side, knocking him to the ground.
"Bip!" The referee's whistle sounded, and Maël might have the record for the fastest foul in the Premier League this season.
He didn't actually intend to argue with Lampard; it was just too troublesome to brake at that moment. After waving to the referee, he extended his hand to Lampard.
Lampard glanced at him, took his hand to get up, and then kicked the free kick himself.
Maël didn't face him directly but went up to find Ivanović, who was his opposing full-back today.
Compared to Azpilicueta in the last game, Ivanović's defensive ability was very poor; he was simply no match for Maël.
If there's a fast counter-attack one-on-one opportunity, Maël is 70% confident he can break through.
Ivanović is standing on the wing, at most occupying a gap to create some trouble, coordinating with his teammates to besiege Maël.
His main responsibility should still be on the attack.
Chelsea's offense in the opening stages was very swift, thanks to their new coach, Boas.
Known as "Little Mourinho," and having led Porto to a treble last year, Boas's ambition upon arriving in England was self-evident.
More importantly, compared to Mourinho's conservative tactics, Boas is an aggressive coach.
Abramovich brought him in, partly expecting this exceptionally talented coach to achieve even better results than Mourinho, and partly hoping he could bring attacking football to Chelsea.
People are always greedy. After Chelsea won the Premier League title with the fewest goals conceded in history, Abramovich began to pursue beautiful football.
They want to win, and win beautifully!
This is their new goal now, and the reason Boas is standing here.
Judging from the past few games, Boas has succeeded. They have often achieved 5-goal victories or 3-goal shutouts this season.
But the win rate is lower.
Boas's team has exposed defensive problems, and he himself doesn't want to address them, only wanting to use more goals to storm to victory.
This Chelsea team has hidden dangers, which is why they are only ranked fourth in the league.
Thus, one side riding the momentum of a 7-goal massacre of Marseille, and the other bringing extreme aggressive attacking football, the two teams collided.
In the 14th minute of the match, the winger, affectionately known by fans as "Uncle Mata," broke through Gibbs's defense and sent a pass towards the center.
"Boom!!"
Outside the arc of the penalty area, Lampard unleashed a powerful long shot, kicking up a cloud of grass clippings.
"Swish!" The ball instantly smashed into the middle of the right upper corner of the goal, Szczęsny couldn't save the team.
One-nil!
Chelsea's legend helps the team take the lead!
"Yeah!"
The Blues fans stood up from the stands, raising their hands in wild celebration. The weather was already getting cold, and some of them were wearing bulky windbreakers, which ripped after exerting force.
One-nil!
Lampard ran towards the corner flag area with his arms outstretched, celebrating the team's lead in the London Derby with a dozen arm pumps.
The youthful look is no longer on his face, he can only burn the last of his career for this team, helping it go further.
"Sorry."
Behind him, Arsenal's full-back Gibbs waved apologetically to his teammates, blaming himself, "It's my ability."
"It's okay."
Maël, who had just run back, touched the back of his head and comforted him. Gibbs is the kind of player who is conscientious, but obviously doesn't possess talent and flair.
He and Maël are on the same wing, without any offensive responsibilities, but instead have more pressure in defense.
His position is where problems often occur, and it can be said that he is a weak link in Arsenal's defense.
Maël didn't blame him. The poor defense on this side is also related to him. His stamina can't support him running up and down with the overall formation, unable to provide support for Gibbs.
He can only work harder on stamina in daily training, and then try to make up for the weakness here in the frontcourt! "Vamos!!"
Boas on the sidelines was almost punching Wenger in the face, he was laughing wildly, jumping up and down on the extension line of the center circle with great excitement.
Wenger glanced at him and ignored him. Young coaches are almost always like this, understandable.
He is now considering whether to poach Kyle Walker, the full-back from their bitter rivals Tottenham, to pair him with Maël.
But whether the player is willing to come under such great pressure, and where the team will find the money, is a problem.
"Boom boom boom."
In the 35th minute of the match, Arsenal's right winger Walcott received a pass from Arteta, and he dribbled the ball at high speed towards Chelsea's backfield.
Maël quickly moved towards the center, and throughout the first half, Chelsea put a lot of pressure on Arsenal's defense. Arsenal didn't have the advantage in ball control.
Plus, Ivanović, Mata, Ramires, and others blocked the passing lanes to him, so he didn't have many opportunities with the ball.
At this point, he had to find opportunities elsewhere, such as getting into good positions.
After rushing into the penalty area, Maël made eye contact with Van Persie, and without any communication, they switched positions.
Maël rushed to the near post, while Van Persie circled towards the far post, their crossing confusing the defense in the penalty area.
"Bang!"
Walcott's cross came in, thinking Van Persie was still at the near post, he curled a cross towards the front post at a height suitable for a header.
Maël followed up, leaping up and attempting a header, a look-back header!
"Crack!" But he misjudged it, and the ball didn't fly towards the goal, but continued to roll towards the far post.
No header.
He was a little embarrassed, and once the training for other skills became easier, he would have to practice his headers properly.
"Bang!" At this moment, a sound of contact with the ball came from behind him, sounding like it was on the edge of the six-yard box.
Maël landed and quickly turned around, just in time to see the moment the ball hit the net. Van Persie, with an excited expression, pointed to the sky and ran towards the corner flag area on the other side.
Goal! One to one!
"Haha...!"
Maël's disappointment instantly vanished, and he sprinted towards Van Persie. This goal was truly an accidental assist.
"I hate you." Walcott quickly followed behind him, saying resentfully.
Maël put his arm around his shoulder, looking genuinely embarrassed.
While celebrating with Van Persie, the Dutch striker even offered some advice, "Maël, if your heading skills are poor, don't try the look-back header.
"It's very difficult and easy to misdirect the ball. Only center forwards who have trained headers since childhood can consistently produce high-quality headers.
"If you have this kind of opportunity again, turn your body to face the goal directly and head it straight on. With your coordination, it should be easy to turn your body instantly. This is the most successful way."
Maël nodded, trying the feeling of heading straight on, and found that it was indeed more stable.
He had been a bit stubborn before, thinking that by learning to head like a center forward, he could have a higher success rate.
"Hey! Terry!"
On the sidelines, Boas always maintained an enthusiastic demeanor. He spread his hands and complained towards the field, "Call Bosingwa! Call them! Don't mess up, don't mess up!"
He had established a good relationship with Terry as soon as he arrived, entrusting all of the team's defense to this Chelsea legendary captain.
Terry gave Boas a thumbs up, indicating that he understood.
"Phew!" Boas blew the hair on his forehead, glanced sideways at Wenger next to him, and found that Wenger was calmly standing in place.
This was his first time competing against this renowned coach, and he took this match very seriously.
In the last minute of first-half stoppage time, Chelsea got a corner kick opportunity.
Lampard stood in front of the ball, extending his right hand towards the penalty area, using a clenched fist gesture to indicate where he would send the ball.
"Bang!"
The ensuing corner kick curled into the Arsenal penalty area with a sharp inward curve, landing at the near post.
Maël also participated in this corner kick defense, sticking tightly to Torres, spreading his arms to keep him in front of him, carrying him to prevent him from jumping.
Torres swayed left and right, but Maël was always able to keep up in the first step, and could also use his strong body to press him.
A few traces of annoyance appeared on his face, and he subtly reached out and tugged at Maël's jersey, since he wasn't jumping, then Maël shouldn't jump either.
The ball bypassed his and Maël's heads, landing a little further forward.
"Bang!!"
Chelsea captain Terry stepped up, overpowering Koscielny to complete a header, smashing the ball into the near corner.
Two to one!
Chelsea leads again! "Yeah!!!"
"Terry! Terry!!"
The Blues' fans erupted in shouts even more intense than before. This goal was crucial, taking the lead into halftime would change the entire match.
"Oh!"
Terry spread his arms and ran towards Lampard on the sidelines. Torres imitated his action, as he had also participated and contributed to the goal.
"Hey!"
Maël quickly and angrily rushed towards the referee, tugging at his jersey to indicate that there was a dragging foul. He was certain he would have had a chance to contest the header and clear the ball.
The referee crossed his hands in front of his chest, indicating that he did not see a foul and told Maël to back off.
After protesting a couple of times and realizing there was no way to change the call, Maël glanced at the celebrating Chelsea players and could only swallow this silent loss.
In the era without VAR, there were indeed many such small fouls in Premier League matches, and everyone would use them.
He walked back towards his position in the attacking third, a few sparks of anger rising in his heart, not directed at anyone, but only at this silent loss.
"Ya!"
Halfway there, he saw Boas on the other side celebrating passionately again. This time, he knelt on the ground and kept punching forward.
This young Portuguese coach really has some character.
"Beep! Beep—!"
Before long, two long whistles sounded, and the first half ended.
Maël walked towards the locker room. His performance in the first half was not great, mainly because he didn't get many opportunities to hold the ball.
For a player of his type, if he can't get a lot of possession on the wing, his efficiency will definitely decrease a lot.
He must get the full support of the team and the coach to be able to show his talent on the field!
Maël wasn't worried. He believed in Wenger and believed that the team would help him solve the problem.
Today's total is 22,000 words, with 102,500 words updated this month. The goal is 540,000 + 14,000 (bonus for monthly tickets).
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