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...
The applause rolled through the Grand Palais around him, carrying the significance of the achievement far beyond the stage, while Francesco stood beneath the lights with the Ballon d'Or in his hands and allowed the full weight of his third consecutive triumph to finally settle over the room.
Then the morning after the Ballon d'Or ceremony, Paris was already talking about Francesco.
By the time he woke, the photographs from the previous evening were everywhere.
Newspapers carried images of him standing beneath the lights of the Grand Palais, the Ballon d'Or held in his hands. Television programs replayed the announcement. Football websites had pushed the story to the top of their homepages, while broadcasters spent hours discussing what his third consecutive victory meant within the modern game.
The attention was enormous, but Francesco experienced it from the quietest possible place.
His hotel room.
He sat at the edge of the bed with a cup of coffee, scrolling through his phone while Leah was getting ready nearby.
"You're still looking at it?" she asked.
Francesco looked up.
"I'm just seeing what everyone's saying."
"And?"
He smiled.
"A lot."
Leah walked over and glanced at the screen.
Another photograph.
Another headline.
Another discussion about Arsenal's quadruple, England's World Cup and the fact that Francesco had now won the Ballon d'Or three years in succession.
"You're going to have to get used to that," she said.
"I don't think anyone gets used to this."
She nodded.
"Probably not."
Jonathan Barnett arrived shortly afterward, already working through the morning schedule.
There were still interviews and media requests surrounding the award, but Francesco's football calendar had not stopped simply because the previous evening had been extraordinary.
Within a few days, the attention began to settle into the wider football conversation.
Former players discussed the achievement.
Analysts examined the season Arsenal had produced.
Pundits debated where Francesco's latest triumph placed him among the leading players of his generation.
Supporters celebrated across London, while Arsenal's social media channels continued sharing photographs from Paris.
The recurring subject was the same.
Three consecutive Ballon d'Ors.
It was no longer simply an award Francesco had won.
It had become another chapter in his career.
And then, as always happened in football, the next match arrived.
London Colney felt remarkably normal.
The training pitches were green.
The changing rooms smelled of boots, grass and sports tape.
Staff carried equipment between buildings.
Players arrived gradually, greeting one another before changing and heading outside.
Francesco walked through the same doors he had walked through countless times before.
There was no red carpet.
No photographers waiting for him.
No stage.
Just his teammates.
Alexis was one of the first to approach him.
"Three."
Francesco laughed.
"You're still counting?"
"Of course."
Gnabry joined them.
"Three is difficult to ignore."
Francesco shook his head.
"You two should be warming up."
"We are."
"You're standing still."
Gnabry grinned.
"Technical recovery."
Francesco laughed as they headed toward the pitch.
The coaching staff quickly brought everyone back into their routine.
Recovery work was followed by passing exercises, positional drills and controlled possession.
The mood remained positive, but Wenger made certain that the Ballon d'Or did not become an excuse for the squad to lose focus.
The next challenge was already approaching.
The Carabao Cup quarter-final.
Tottenham.
At the Emirates.
Another North London Derby, but this time with a place in the semi-finals at stake.
The significance of the fixture was obvious.
Yet Wenger treated it like every other important match.
Preparation first.
Emotion second.
Over the following sessions, the squad worked through defensive organization, transitions, possession under pressure and attacking patterns.
Francesco participated fully.
There were jokes about Paris.
There were congratulations.
There were plenty of comments from teammates whenever someone happened to mention the trophy.
But once training started, he was simply another Arsenal player.
That suited him.
By matchday, the attention had shifted again.
The Emirates was already beginning to fill when the Arsenal team bus arrived.
Francesco stepped down with the rest of the squad and entered the stadium.
Inside the dressing room, everything was arranged for the evening.
Shirts hung in place.
Boots were positioned beneath benches.
Training tops were laid out for the warm-up.
The players changed and gradually moved toward the tunnel leading outside.
The atmosphere grew louder as they approached the pitch.
Supporters were already in their seats.
Flags moved through the stands.
The familiar sound of a North London crowd filled the stadium.
Then, before the warm-up began, the club staff brought out something different.
A presentation stand had been positioned near the edge of the pitch.
On it sat Francesco's two previous Ballon d'Or trophies.
A third position remained empty.
Francesco noticed immediately.
He looked toward one of the staff members.
"That's for the new one?"
The staff member smiled.
"Exactly."
Francesco shook his head with a quiet laugh.
A few moments later, the latest Ballon d'Or was carried onto the pitch.
The Emirates noticed.
The reaction spread quickly.
People began pointing toward the stand.
Then the applause started.
It grew as Francesco walked toward the display carrying the newest trophy.
For the first time, all three were together.
His first.
His second.
And now his third.
Three consecutive Ballon d'Or awards standing side by side.
Francesco stopped beside them.
The stadium applauded.
He looked at the three trophies for a moment, then toward the stands.
Arsenal supporters had seen Francesco score goals there.
They had watched him lift domestic trophies.
They had watched him captain the club through European nights.
Now they were seeing something that represented a different kind of achievement.
Francesco stood between the awards while photographers gathered nearby.
He posed with them, first facing the main stand, then turning slightly as photographers requested different angles.
The three trophies remained together.
There was no elaborate ceremony.
Just a simple acknowledgment of something extraordinary.
Francesco eventually stepped away.
The staff carefully returned the trophies to their display position.
He turned back toward the pitch.
Alexis was waiting.
"Finished being famous?"
"For about five minutes."
"Good."
They joined the rest of the squad.
The warm-up continued.
Passing drills became sharper.
Players stretched, accelerated and worked through finishing exercises.
The Tottenham players emerged onto the pitch as well.
The stadium gradually became fuller.
The noise grew.
But football was returning to the centre of the evening.
After the warm-up, Francesco and the substitutes headed back inside.
Training tops came off.
Boots were adjusted.
Match shirts replaced the warm-up equipment.
Francesco pulled on his Arsenal shirt but did not prepare as though he were starting.
Tonight, he would begin on the bench.
Wenger entered the dressing room with the coaching staff.
The conversation gradually stopped.
The manager looked around the room.
"Tonight we rotate," he said calmly. "But we do not change our standards."
He began naming the team.
"David Raya."
Raya nodded.
"Nacho Monreal, captain."
Monreal looked up.
"Shkodran Mustafi. Rob Holding. Héctor Bellerín."
Then came the midfield.
"Aaron Ramsey. Matteo Guendouzi. Youri Tielemans."
Finally, the attacking players.
"Emile Smith Rowe. Bukayo Saka. Olivier Giroud."
The lineup was confirmed.
Francesco listened from his place among the substitutes.
So did the other regular first-team players who had been selected for the bench.
Wenger continued with the tactical instructions, explaining the shape, the responsibilities in possession and the importance of moving the ball quickly against Tottenham's defensive structure.
Across the stadium, Mauricio Pochettino had selected his own side.
Paulo Gazzaniga in goal.
Danny Rose as captain.
Ben Davies.
Toby Alderweireld.
Kieran Trippier.
Moussa Sissoko.
Harry Winks.
Dele Alli.
Christian Eriksen.
Lucas Moura.
Son Heung-min.
It was a strong Tottenham side.
Nobody in the Arsenal dressing room needed reminding what that meant.
Wenger finished the briefing.
"Stay disciplined. Be patient. The game will give us opportunities."
The starting players began moving toward the tunnel.
Francesco followed with the substitutes.
The roar from the Emirates grew as both teams prepared to emerge.
Francesco took his place on the bench.
The match was no longer about Paris.
Not really.
The Ballon d'Or had been celebrated.
The photographs had been taken.
The trophy was sitting safely beside the other two.
Now there was a quarter-final to win.
The referee checked his watch.
The players took their positions.
The noise rose one final time before settling into the rhythm of the match.
The whistle sounded.
Tottenham immediately attempted to establish possession.
Winks dropped toward the defenders while Eriksen moved between Arsenal's midfield and attacking lines. Dele Alli searched for pockets of space, while Son and Lucas remained high enough to threaten whenever Tottenham recovered the ball.
Arsenal responded with intensity.
Ramsey pressed forward.
Guendouzi competed for second balls.
Tielemans tried to dictate the tempo whenever Arsenal recovered possession.
Saka stayed wide before cutting inside when the opportunity appeared.
Smith Rowe moved between the lines.
Giroud provided the focal point.
The opening ten minutes were fiercely contested without either side taking control.
Francesco watched closely from the bench.
He leaned forward whenever Arsenal entered the final third.
Wenger stood nearby, occasionally calling instructions toward the pitch.
Tottenham created the first sustained spell of pressure.
A sequence of passes moved Arsenal backward, forcing Holding and Mustafi to remain compact.
Monreal dealt with one attack down the left.
Bellerín recovered quickly on the opposite side.
Raya gathered a cross before Tottenham could reach it.
Arsenal then broke forward.
Saka carried the ball into space and found Ramsey.
Ramsey moved it quickly toward Tielemans, who tried to release Smith Rowe.
The pass was slightly too strong.
Tottenham recovered.
The pattern continued.
Neither side wanted to concede the first goal, but neither was willing to surrender the initiative.
The quarter-final carried a different pressure from the league.
There was no opportunity to settle for a point.
Eventually, someone had to make the difference.
As the half progressed, Arsenal began finding more space.
Guendouzi became increasingly involved.
He pressed aggressively when Tottenham attempted to build from deep, then immediately looked forward once Arsenal recovered possession.
At the 37th minute, that persistence finally paid off.
Guendouzi won the ball in midfield and moved forward.
Instead of slowing the attack, he continued his run and looked toward Giroud.
Giroud had positioned himself between Tottenham's defenders.
Guendouzi delivered the pass.
Giroud controlled it and turned toward goal.
The opportunity opened.
He finished.
The ball crossed the line.
"GOAL!"
The Emirates erupted.
Giroud turned toward the supporters, raising his arms as his teammates rushed toward him.
Guendouzi was the first to reach him.
The midfielder wrapped an arm around the striker, shouting in celebration.
Saka arrived moments later.
Ramsey joined them.
The rest of the Arsenal players followed.
On the bench, Francesco was already standing.
He applauded hard, smiling as Wenger acknowledged the goal with a brief nod before immediately turning his attention back toward the match.
"Good," Wenger said quietly.
Then he pointed toward the pitch.
"Now stay focused."
The celebration on the field soon ended.
Arsenal reset.
Tottenham restarted.
The visitors responded with urgency.
Eriksen began demanding the ball more often.
Sissoko pushed higher.
Son looked to attack the space behind Bellerín.
Lucas moved across the attacking line, searching for an opening.
Arsenal were forced deeper for several stretches.
Raya made himself available whenever the defenders needed an outlet.
Holding and Mustafi remained close together.
Monreal organized the back line from his position as captain.
Bellerín tracked runners carefully.
Guendouzi continued working.
The match became increasingly physical.
Arsenal still attempted to attack whenever they recovered possession, but Tottenham's response meant every forward movement had to be calculated.
Francesco remained fully engaged on the bench.
Whenever Arsenal won possession, he watched the movement of Giroud, Saka and Smith Rowe.
Whenever Tottenham advanced, his attention shifted toward Arsenal's defensive shape.
At one point, he leaned toward Ramsey.
"They're trying to pull us wide."
Ramsey nodded.
"Yeah."
"They'll look for Eriksen inside."
"Wenger's already shouting about it."
Francesco smiled faintly.
"Of course he is."
The remaining minutes of the half passed without another goal.
Tottenham continued searching for an equalizer.
Arsenal defended their advantage and occasionally threatened on the counter.
There were opportunities without a decisive final touch.
The Emirates remained tense.
Then the referee looked at his watch and raised the whistle.
Half-time.
Arsenal 1–0 Tottenham.
The players began walking back toward the dressing rooms.
Francesco rose from the bench and followed the substitutes inside.
Giroud was among the first Arsenal players through the door.
Guendouzi came behind him.
The goalscorer and his assistant exchanged a brief smile before turning their attention toward the manager.
Nobody celebrated.
The job was only halfway done.
The players took their seats.
Water bottles were passed around.
Towels appeared.
Boots were loosened.
The room filled with the ordinary sounds of a team recovering between two halves of a football match.
Wenger stood in front of the group.
He waited until everyone was looking at him.
"Good first half," he said.
His voice was calm.
"We have the advantage because we have worked for it. Now we have to protect it properly."
He looked toward the defenders.
"Stay compact. Do not allow their attacking players to separate you. Son and Lucas will continue looking for space, and Eriksen will try to find them."
Then he turned toward the midfielders.
"When we have the ball, don't give it away unnecessarily. We don't need to rush. Move it quickly when the space is there, but if it isn't, keep possession."
His eyes moved toward the attacking players.
"We will have more opportunities. Giroud, continue giving us an option forward. Saka, Emile, attack when you have the space. We can hurt them, but we must choose the right moments."
He paused.
"The important thing is concentration."
Nobody spoke.
Wenger continued.
"We are ahead. That does not mean the game is finished."
He looked around the room.
"Do not become comfortable because of the score. Be disciplined for another forty-five minutes. Defend together, attack together, and when the opportunity comes, take it."
Francesco listened from among the substitutes.
Outside, the Emirates continued to hum with anticipation.
Arsenal had the lead.
Tottenham would have to chase.
And with another forty-five minutes still waiting, the quarter-final remained very much alive.
Then the second half began with Tottenham moving as though the interval had barely ended.
The restart had hardly settled when Eriksen received possession in midfield and immediately turned forward. Winks moved the ball on quickly, Sissoko surged through the centre, and Son was already accelerating into the space behind Arsenal's defensive line.
Arsenal were caught moving backward.
"Get back!" Monreal shouted.
Eriksen saw the run.
His pass came early, perfectly weighted between Holding and Bellerín.
Son reached it in stride.
One touch took him inside.
The next sent the ball beyond Raya.
Goal.
Forty-seven minutes.
1–1.
The Emirates groaned before the Tottenham section of the stadium erupted.
Son wheeled away toward the corner, with Eriksen following him.
The Arsenal players looked frustrated.
Wenger's expression barely changed.
Francesco remained standing beside the substitutes' area, watching the players reset.
There was no time to dwell on what had happened.
Tottenham had started the half exactly as Wenger would have feared.
Fast.
Direct.
Ruthless.
The equalizer changed the rhythm immediately.
Arsenal tried to respond through possession, but Tottenham were now playing with greater confidence. Their midfield became more assertive, with Winks moving the ball efficiently and Sissoko using his strength to disrupt Arsenal's attempts to build.
Eriksen repeatedly found pockets between the lines.
Dele Alli drifted into spaces that forced Arsenal's midfielders to make difficult decisions.
For Tielemans and Guendouzi, the challenge became increasingly demanding.
Both worked hard.
Neither stopped running.
But Tottenham's experience was beginning to show.
Guendouzi attempted to press Winks and was bypassed by a quick exchange with Eriksen.
Tielemans tried to regain control through circulation, only for Sissoko to close him down physically.
Wenger noticed.
He had been watching the midfield battle for several minutes.
At the hour mark, he made his decision.
"Mesut. Granit."
Özil and Xhaka rose from the bench.
Tielemans came off first.
The young midfielder accepted Wenger's brief handshake before heading toward the technical area.
Guendouzi followed.
Özil entered with his usual calmness, immediately pointing toward the spaces he wanted teammates to occupy.
Xhaka took up a deeper position.
The effect was noticeable almost immediately.
Arsenal began keeping the ball for longer periods.
Xhaka offered a reliable passing option in front of the defence.
Özil found pockets between Tottenham's midfield and back line, receiving the ball on the half-turn and releasing it before pressure could arrive.
The change did not suddenly make Tottenham harmless.
It simply gave Arsenal greater control over the match.
Saka received possession on the right and attacked Davies.
The full-back stayed with him.
Saka pulled the ball back toward Ramsey, but Alderweireld stepped forward to intercept.
Tottenham countered.
Eriksen found Alli.
Alli attempted to release Kane's eventual replacement later in the match, but at this stage Son remained the central threat.
Holding read the movement and stepped across.
The danger disappeared.
Both sides were now playing with greater urgency.
Every loose ball seemed important.
Every challenge was met with another.
The Emirates responded to every Arsenal attack with increasing volume, while Tottenham's supporters answered whenever their team moved forward.
Francesco remained on the bench, following the tactical details.
He watched Özil begin to influence the game.
He watched Xhaka organize the midfield.
Then he looked toward Wenger.
The manager remained focused on the pitch.
At 65 minutes, Arsenal started producing longer attacking sequences.
Özil received from Xhaka.
A touch.
A glance.
Then a pass into Ramsey.
Ramsey returned it.
Özil released Saka down the flank.
Saka's cross was blocked.
The ball came back.
Arsenal recovered it again.
Tottenham were being pushed toward their own penalty area.
Smith Rowe began finding more room.
His movement was subtle.
He would drift away from his marker, receive, then move again before Tottenham could close him down.
It was beginning to matter.
The match had become stretched enough for one precise combination to decide it.
That moment arrived in the 72nd minute.
Smith Rowe received the ball just outside the final third.
He looked up.
Saka had moved into the channel.
The pass arrived perfectly.
Saka took it in stride.
He drove toward the area.
A defender tried to close him down.
Saka shifted the ball onto his preferred side.
Then he finished.
The net moved.
2–1 Arsenal.
This time the Emirates exploded with relief as much as excitement.
Saka turned toward the supporters with both arms raised.
Smith Rowe sprinted after him.
They embraced near the corner before Ramsey and several others joined them.
On the bench, Francesco jumped to his feet.
Wenger applauded once before immediately turning toward the technical area.
There was still work to do.
The fourth official was already preparing the board.
Wenger looked toward Francesco.
"Francesco."
He stood.
"Ready?"
Francesco nodded.
"Ready."
At 73 minutes, the change was made.
Olivier Giroud walked toward the touchline after giving Arsenal a strong hour-plus performance.
Francesco stepped onto the pitch.
The stadium recognized him immediately.
There was a roar from the supporters, but the moment was brief.
Francesco did not stop to acknowledge anything beyond a quick wave toward the stands.
He jogged into position.
The Ballon d'Or winner was back in the match.
Not as the centre of an awards ceremony.
Not as the player standing beneath cameras in Paris.
As Arsenal's captain.
As their striker.
And, for the remaining minutes, as one of the players responsible for getting them through a difficult quarter-final.
At almost the same time, Tottenham made their own changes.
Son came off.
Lucas followed him.
Harry Kane entered.
Erik Lamela joined him.
Pochettino had decided that Tottenham needed a different attacking threat.
Kane immediately pushed toward the central channel.
Lamela moved between the right side and the middle.
Tottenham had no intention of accepting the result.
The game accelerated again.
Kane held the ball under pressure and brought teammates into play.
Lamela attempted to turn around the edge of Arsenal's penalty area.
Eriksen continued orchestrating attacks.
Arsenal's defenders had to remain alert.
Francesco dropped deeper at times, helping Arsenal escape pressure before turning forward when space appeared.
His first involvement came through a simple pass into Özil.
Özil returned it.
Francesco moved again.
The movement pulled Alderweireld slightly away from his defensive position.
Saka noticed and attacked the gap.
The cross was blocked.
Arsenal won a corner.
The set piece came to nothing, but the message was clear.
Francesco was already affecting the shape of the game.
Tottenham continued pressing.
With ten minutes remaining, Arsenal were protecting a narrow advantage.
Wenger called toward Xhaka.
"Keep the ball."
Xhaka nodded.
Arsenal began slowing the tempo whenever possible.
Not wasting time.
Managing the game.
There was an important distinction.
When Tottenham pressed aggressively, Arsenal used the space behind them.
Özil found Ramsey.
Ramsey released Saka.
Saka carried the ball before winning a throw.
The crowd applauded.
Then Tottenham attacked again.
Kane received near the edge of the box.
Holding stayed close.
Kane turned.
His shot was blocked.
The rebound fell toward Lamela.
Monreal threw himself across the path of the ball.
Another danger disappeared.
The clock moved toward eighty-four minutes.
Arsenal won possession again.
Francesco received near the left side of the attacking third.
He tried to turn and was caught by a challenge.
The referee blew his whistle.
Free kick.
Francesco looked toward the position.
It was dangerous.
Close enough for a direct attempt.
Özil walked toward the ball, but Francesco approached first.
"I'll take it."
Özil smiled.
"Go on."
The Arsenal players moved into position.
Tottenham formed their wall.
Gazzaniga organized the defenders in front of him.
Francesco placed the ball carefully.
He stepped backward.
The stadium understood.
The noise softened into anticipation.
Francesco looked once at the wall.
Then at the goalkeeper.
He took his stance.
One breath.
Then the run-up.
His right foot struck beneath the ball with perfect precision.
It rose over the wall.
For a fraction of a second, it appeared to be drifting wide.
Then it bent.
The ball curved toward the far corner.
Gazzaniga launched himself across the goal.
He could not reach it.
The ball struck the inside of the net.
3–1.
The Emirates erupted.
Francesco stood still for half a second, watching the ball settle before turning toward the supporters.
His teammates were already running toward him.
Saka reached him first.
Smith Rowe followed.
Ramsey wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
Francesco laughed as the group closed around him.
On the touchline, Wenger allowed himself a small smile.
He applauded before turning back toward the pitch.
"Now finish it properly."
Francesco heard him.
He nodded.
The celebration lasted only as long as it needed to.
Tottenham restarted.
There was still time.
Kane immediately demanded the ball.
Lamela moved forward.
Eriksen attempted to create another opening.
But Arsenal were now playing with the confidence that came from a two-goal cushion.
Xhaka stayed disciplined.
Özil continued offering an outlet.
Francesco dropped alongside the midfield when necessary, helping Arsenal retain possession.
When Tottenham pressed, Arsenal moved the ball.
When Tottenham found space, Arsenal defended together.
The visitors managed to work one dangerous attack toward the edge of the area, but Mustafi stepped in front of Kane's attempted finish.
Raya collected the loose ball.
The goalkeeper took his time before releasing it.
The clock continued.
Arsenal no longer needed to chase another goal.
They simply needed to remain intelligent.
Francesco encouraged Saka to stay wide.
"Keep the width."
Saka nodded.
The next Arsenal possession lasted nearly a minute.
Xhaka to Özil.
Özil to Ramsey.
Back to Xhaka.
Then toward Francesco.
Francesco shielded the ball from Winks, won the challenge and drew a foul.
The Emirates applauded.
Another minute disappeared.
Tottenham tried once more.
Kane headed toward the penalty area.
Holding followed him.
Monreal cleared.
The ball went out.
The Tottenham players looked toward the referee.
Arsenal's players regrouped.
There would be no late collapse.
The fourth official indicated the remaining time.
Wenger remained on the touchline.
His hands were tucked into his coat pockets.
His expression was controlled.
The final minutes passed without another breakthrough.
Tottenham's urgency remained, but their attacks lacked the clarity they had possessed earlier.
Arsenal's defensive line stayed organized.
Francesco continued working.
He chased one loose ball toward the corner and held it long enough to draw two Tottenham players toward him before laying it back to Özil.
The German midfielder immediately moved the ball away.
Another few seconds gone.
Then came the final whistle.
Arsenal 3–1 Tottenham.
The Emirates erupted once more.
The Arsenal players looked toward one another before the first smiles appeared.
They had been forced to fight for it.
They had lost their first-half advantage almost immediately after the restart.
They had struggled in midfield.
Wenger had changed the game with Özil and Xhaka.
Saka had restored the lead.
And Francesco, only minutes after entering the match, had delivered the decisive blow with a free kick.
Monreal raised both arms toward the supporters.
Holding embraced Mustafi.
Saka was congratulated by Smith Rowe.
Xhaka and Özil exchanged a handshake.
Francesco stood near the edge of the penalty area for a moment, breathing heavily as he looked around the stadium.
The three Ballon d'Or trophies had been displayed earlier.
That had been a celebration of what he had already achieved.
This was different.
This was work.
Another match.
Another difficult night.
Another Arsenal victory.
Wenger eventually approached him.
"Good free kick."
Francesco smiled.
"Thank you."
"And good discipline after."
Francesco nodded.
"We wanted to finish it."
Wenger looked toward the scoreboard.
"We did."
The players began making their way toward the supporters.
There was no need for anything extravagant.
The applause from the Emirates said enough.
Arsenal had defeated Tottenham 3–1.
The quarter-final was over.
They were through to the Carabao Cup semi-finals.
Francesco walked alongside his teammates toward the tunnel, still wearing the shirt he had pulled on less than an hour earlier.
The Ballon d'Or might have been the headline across Europe only days before.
Tonight, the headline was simpler.
Arsenal had won.
And in another fiercely contested North London Derby, they had done it through a mixture of youth, experience, tactical adjustment and one perfectly struck free kick from the three-time Ballon d'Or winner.
__________________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 20 (2018)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, Champions League 2017/2018, 2018 World Cup, and 2018/2019 Community Shield.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 22
Goal: 25
Assist: 1
MOTM: 0
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 2
Goal: 2
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 11
Goal: 14
Assist: 1
MOTM: 7
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9