If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
________________________________
(A/N: Also everyone I have a new novel named "From Couch To The Inquisitor", be sure to check it out and give some power stone)
...
He was a teammate who had trained with them, competed with them, laughed with them, eaten with them and already started building the small relationships that mattered inside a football squad.
Then the following days passed without any need for ceremony.
Football simply returned to its usual rhythm.
London Colney remained busy through the winter mornings, with the squad moving through its normal cycle of recovery, conditioning, tactical preparation and work with the ball. Denis settled into that routine without the attention that had surrounded his first day. He trained, listened, learned the habits of his teammates and gradually became another familiar face among the group.
There were no grand moments.
That was the point.
The new year had already brought changes to the squad, but Arsenal's work continued in much the same way it always had.
Francesco remained involved in the sessions with the regular first-team players, while the rotation group continued preparing for the opportunities Wenger had promised them. Tielemans worked hard, determined to make every training session count. Smith Rowe continued developing his understanding of senior football. Saka and Iwobi competed for places and minutes. Giroud remained one of the experienced figures within the group.
And Wenger kept the balance.
He never allowed the squad to become obsessed with individual selection battles.
There was always another session.
Another tactical problem.
Another match approaching.
By the time the next competitive fixture arrived, the conversation had naturally shifted toward the Carabao Cup.
This time, however, the occasion carried a different weight.
It was a semi-final.
And unlike a normal league fixture, ninety minutes would not settle the matter.
Arsenal had two legs to navigate.
Every goal mattered.
Every mistake could carry consequences into the return fixture.
The first leg would be played at the Emirates.
On matchday, the stadium began filling well before the teams emerged for their warm-ups. Supporters arrived in steady streams, winter coats and scarves visible throughout the concourses as the familiar red-and-white colors gradually spread through the stands.
Inside the Arsenal dressing room, the squad arrived according to its usual schedule.
Francesco entered with several of the regular first-team players, carrying his training bag over one shoulder. The mood was focused without being tense.
Everyone understood what was ahead.
This was not another routine league afternoon.
It was a semi-final.
Players changed into their training gear and began preparing their boots, tape and equipment.
The coaching staff moved around the room checking the final details.
Wenger remained composed.
He had no interest in making the occasion larger than it needed to be.
Eventually, the players made their way toward the pitch.
The Emirates was already considerably louder.
Francesco stepped onto the grass with the other substitutes and regular players while the starting group began its preparations.
The warm-up had its own rhythm.
Players worked through stretches before moving into short passing patterns designed to sharpen their reactions. The ball travelled around small groups while coaches watched the quality of movement rather than simply the speed of the exercise.
Then came sharper changes of direction.
Short accelerations.
Brief bursts over five or ten metres.
Players gradually increased their intensity as their bodies warmed.
The finishing work followed.
Giroud and Saka took turns attacking crosses and cutbacks while Raya worked through a series of saves at the other end.
Francesco joined the finishing sequence with the substitutes, striking several efforts cleanly before stepping aside to watch the next group.
Around them, the Emirates continued filling.
More voices reached the pitch.
The sound became fuller as supporters settled into their seats.
Chelsea's players emerged onto the opposite side of the field, completing their own preparations.
The stadium was beginning to feel like a cup night.
Not because anyone was shouting about the importance of it.
Because everyone could feel it.
Eventually, the warm-up ended.
The players collected their equipment and headed back inside.
Francesco returned to the dressing room and changed into the official Arsenal match kit.
The familiar red shirt replaced the training top.
Socks were pulled into place.
Boots tightened.
Shin pads checked.
Around him, the starting players prepared for the responsibility that was about to be placed on them.
Wenger entered shortly afterward.
The conversations gradually stopped.
He looked around the room.
"Before we go out, remember why we have selected this team."
His voice was calm.
"We have used the cup competitions to give players opportunities. That continues tonight."
His eyes moved across the starting group.
"You have earned your opportunity. Trust yourselves."
He then looked toward the substitutes.
"And those on the bench must stay ready. A semi-final can change quickly. One moment can alter the entire game."
Francesco listened carefully.
Wenger wasn't suggesting that the regular players were being deliberately held back because the match was unimportant.
Quite the opposite.
He was protecting the squad's balance while trusting the players who had carried the team through earlier rounds.
"Do not think about who is not starting," Wenger continued. "Think about what we need to do with the players who are starting."
He paused.
"Play our football."
The starting lineup was confirmed.
David Raya would be in goal.
Nacho Monreal would lead the defense, alongside Shkodran Mustafi and Rob Holding.
Aaron Ramsey would provide experience in midfield, with Youri Tielemans alongside him.
Emile Smith Rowe would operate in the attacking midfield areas.
Alex Iwobi and Bukayo Saka would provide width and movement.
And Olivier Giroud would lead the line.
Francesco and the other regular first-team players would begin on the substitutes' bench.
For Tielemans, it was another opportunity.
For Giroud, another chance to lead the attack.
For the younger players, a semi-final against Chelsea represented exactly the sort of experience Wenger believed they needed.
Francesco gave several of the starters a brief word as they prepared to leave.
"Stay patient," he told Tielemans.
Tielemans nodded.
"We'll be ready."
The starting players disappeared toward the tunnel.
Francesco followed with the substitutes, taking his place on the bench.
Across the stadium, Chelsea were completing their final preparations under Maurizio Sarri.
Their midfield was likely to be central to everything they wanted to do.
Ross Barkley.
Jorginho.
Mateo Kovačić.
Three players capable of moving the ball quickly, finding passing angles and controlling the rhythm.
Francesco watched them during the final moments before kickoff.
Jorginho was already pointing toward spaces.
Kovačić moved continuously.
Barkley looked physically ready for the battle.
This was going to be a test.
The teams gathered in the tunnel.
Officials checked the players.
The captains spoke briefly with the referee.
Then the signal came.
The two teams walked onto the pitch.
The Emirates responded immediately.
Arsenal's supporters rose as their players emerged, while Chelsea's contingent made itself heard from the visiting section.
The teams lined up.
The officials completed the formalities.
Then the players took their positions.
The whistle sounded.
The semi-final had begun.
Chelsea immediately tried to establish control.
Jorginho dropped into the space between Arsenal's midfield and defense, constantly offering himself as an outlet. Kovačić moved intelligently around him, sometimes drifting wider before returning inside. Barkley pushed higher, looking for spaces between Arsenal's midfield and back line.
The ball moved quickly.
Short pass.
Return pass.
Another angle.
Chelsea were not attacking recklessly.
They were trying to dictate the game through possession.
Arsenal's rotated midfield had to work.
Tielemans stayed close to Ramsey while Smith Rowe attempted to block the easiest route into the attacking midfield areas.
Iwobi and Saka dropped when necessary.
Giroud remained available as the forward outlet.
The opening stages belonged slightly more to Chelsea.
Not overwhelmingly.
But enough for Arsenal to recognize the problem.
"Stay compact!" Ramsey called.
Tielemans adjusted his position.
Smith Rowe tracked back.
Chelsea moved the ball again.
Jorginho received under little pressure and immediately switched the angle.
Kovačić collected it and carried forward.
Arsenal recovered.
Holding stepped out.
Mustafi covered behind him.
Monreal stayed narrow.
The attack eventually broke down.
Raya collected the ball and Arsenal began building.
That was where the match started to change.
Arsenal didn't need to dominate possession immediately.
They simply needed to make Chelsea work harder for it.
Tielemans began finding better positions.
Instead of chasing Jorginho, he started anticipating where the Italian wanted to receive.
Ramsey pushed higher.
Smith Rowe began drifting into the spaces between Chelsea's midfield and defense.
Saka stayed wide until the moment he could attack the full-back.
Iwobi did the same on the opposite side.
The pattern began to work.
Chelsea still had the ball.
But Arsenal were making their possession less comfortable.
A loose pass was intercepted.
Then another.
The Emirates responded whenever Arsenal recovered possession and moved forward.
Francesco watched from the bench.
He leaned slightly forward whenever Arsenal entered the final third.
He wasn't impatient.
There was no reason to be.
The starting eleven were finding their feet.
Tielemans, in particular, was becoming more influential.
He started demanding the ball from deeper positions.
One pass forward.
Then another.
A movement into space.
A quick recovery after possession was lost.
The longer the half went, the more Arsenal began to look like themselves.
Chelsea's midfield still posed a threat.
Barkley carried the ball through the middle.
Jorginho continued trying to control the tempo.
Kovačić found little pockets of space and attempted to draw Arsenal's midfield toward him.
But Arsenal were no longer simply reacting.
They were competing.
By the half-hour mark, the match had become a genuine midfield contest.
The crowd sensed it.
Every successful tackle drew a response.
Every Arsenal forward movement was encouraged.
And then, in the thirty-fourth minute, Arsenal finally found the opening.
It began through Tielemans.
He received the ball with Chelsea attempting to close the central space.
Rather than forcing the pass, he waited.
One touch.
A glance forward.
Then he spotted Giroud beginning to move.
Tielemans slipped the ball into the path of the Frenchman.
Giroud took it in stride.
The finish came quickly.
He guided the ball beyond Chelsea's goalkeeper and into the net.
For a fraction of a second, the stadium seemed to register what had happened.
Then the Arsenal supporters erupted.
Giroud turned toward his teammates.
Tielemans was already running toward him.
The two embraced.
Saka arrived moments later, followed by Smith Rowe and Ramsey.
The celebration lasted only a few seconds before Giroud pointed toward Tielemans.
"That was yours."
Tielemans smiled.
"We both did it."
From the bench, Francesco stood with the other substitutes and applauded.
Nothing excessive.
Just genuine satisfaction.
That was exactly the kind of contribution Tielemans had been hoping to make.
The Emirates settled again as Chelsea retrieved the ball.
Sarri's players regrouped.
Jorginho immediately began organizing the restart.
There was still a long way to go.
Arsenal had the lead, but nobody on the bench considered the tie remotely safe.
Chelsea responded by increasing the tempo.
Barkley began appearing higher up the pitch.
Kovačić carried the ball through midfield with greater urgency.
Jorginho continued moving the ball quickly from side to side, attempting to pull Arsenal's shape apart.
Arsenal defended intelligently.
Monreal kept the back line organized.
Mustafi and Holding communicated constantly.
Ramsey dropped when necessary.
Tielemans worked tirelessly to close passing lanes.
Smith Rowe tracked runners.
Whenever Arsenal won possession, Saka and Iwobi immediately looked forward.
Giroud remained a target.
The chances did not disappear.
Neither did the danger.
Chelsea nearly found an opening when Kovačić carried the ball through the middle, but Holding stepped across at the right moment and disrupted the move.
At the other end, Saka broke into space and forced Chelsea to retreat.
Giroud waited centrally.
The attack eventually ended without another goal.
Francesco continued watching closely.
He could feel the difference between sitting on the bench and being on the pitch.
From the sideline, the spaces looked obvious.
The rhythm was easier to read.
But he also knew that the game could change in seconds.
One Chelsea goal would level the first leg.
Another Arsenal goal could transform the tie.
That was the nature of a semi-final.
The remaining minutes of the half became increasingly tense.
Chelsea continued searching for an equalizer.
Arsenal refused to surrender control.
There were moments when the visitors held possession for long stretches, but Arsenal's shape remained disciplined.
Whenever Chelsea threatened to accelerate through the middle, someone stepped into the passing lane.
Whenever they attempted to move the ball wide, Arsenal's midfield shifted across.
Tielemans was especially important.
He was no longer simply surviving the midfield battle.
He was influencing it.
Wenger noticed.
The manager remained near the technical area, occasionally giving brief instructions but otherwise allowing the players to manage the situation themselves.
The fourth official checked his watch.
The Emirates grew restless.
Chelsea pushed once more.
Barkley received near the edge of the Arsenal area and attempted to find space.
Mustafi closed him down.
The ball was played sideways.
Kovačić tried to collect it.
Ramsey stepped in.
Arsenal won possession.
The whistle followed shortly afterward.
Half-time.
Arsenal 1–0 Chelsea.
The players walked toward the tunnel.
Giroud exchanged a few words with Tielemans as they headed inside.
Saka followed close behind.
Francesco and the substitutes rose from the bench and entered the dressing room with them.
The atmosphere was serious but controlled.
Nobody was celebrating.
A one-goal lead in the first leg of a semi-final was valuable, but it was hardly decisive.
Players took water.
Some sat down.
Others remained standing.
Wenger waited until everyone had gathered.
Then he began.
"We have done well."
His voice was steady.
"Chelsea had control of the midfield in the beginning. They moved the ball quickly and made us run."
He looked toward Tielemans and Ramsey.
"But we adapted."
A few players nodded.
"We became more compact. We stopped allowing Jorginho to dictate every phase. We started to find our own spaces."
Wenger paused.
"And then we scored."
His eyes moved across the room.
"That is good."
Nobody spoke.
"But one goal is not enough."
The message was clear.
"We cannot spend forty-five minutes protecting this result. If we sit too deeply, we invite them to play. They are too good for that."
Wenger walked slowly across the room.
"We continue to attack."
He pointed toward the midfield.
"Stay organized. When we lose the ball, react immediately. When we have it, move it with purpose."
Then he looked toward the forwards.
"Keep looking for the second goal."
He paused again.
"If we can make the advantage bigger tonight, we make the second leg easier."
There was no promise that it would be easy.
No suggestion that Chelsea would simply accept defeat.
Wenger knew better.
"So stay patient," he finished. "Stay disciplined. But be brave."
The players absorbed the words.
Tielemans looked down briefly at his boots before tightening the laces again.
Giroud took another drink.
Smith Rowe listened closely.
Francesco remained near the substitutes, watching the starting players prepare themselves.
The manager's final message had been understood.
The tie was not finished.
The first half had given Arsenal an advantage.
The second half would determine whether they could build on it.
Outside, the Emirates was already growing louder again.
The supporters were returning to their seats.
The referee and officials were preparing.
Players began standing.
Francesco pulled his jacket into place and looked toward the tunnel.
He didn't know whether Wenger would eventually call his name.
None of the substitutes did.
But that was precisely why they had to remain ready.
The second half of the semi-final was waiting.
Then the players emerged from the tunnel and stepped back onto the Emirates pitch.
The noise had risen during the interval.
Arsenal's supporters sensed that their team had an opportunity to take control of the tie, but Chelsea returned with an entirely different urgency.
The referee checked his watch.
Then the whistle sounded.
Chelsea attacked immediately.
There was no period of feeling their way back into the half.
Willian received the ball on the right and drove forward, forcing Monreal to retreat. Hazard drifted toward the same side, briefly drawing another Arsenal defender toward him before cutting inside.
Hudson-Odoi stayed wider on the opposite flank.
The intention was obvious.
Stretch Arsenal.
Move the defenders.
Find the space.
Willian played inside.
Barkley arrived.
A quick exchange followed before Jorginho moved the ball toward Hazard.
Hazard took one touch and tried to turn.
Mustafi stepped across.
The ball ricocheted loose, and Arsenal cleared.
"Stay together!" Monreal shouted.
Chelsea recovered possession almost immediately.
Kovačić carried the ball forward.
Hudson-Odoi began his run.
The pass went toward him.
Holding moved across and prevented the winger from turning into the penalty area.
The youngster had to play backward.
Chelsea came again.
For the opening minutes, Arsenal were being asked to defend almost constantly.
Francesco watched from the bench, following the movement of the Chelsea forwards.
Willian was constantly changing his position.
Hazard rarely stayed in one place for long.
Hudson-Odoi offered pace on the opposite side and repeatedly tried to isolate Monreal.
Sarri had clearly instructed his players to increase the tempo.
Arsenal's rotated side had to withstand it.
Raya made an important intervention when Hazard slipped a pass toward the edge of the area.
He came off his line and gathered before the forward could reach it.
"Good, David!" Mustafi called.
Arsenal tried to slow things down.
Ramsey demanded the ball.
Tielemans moved toward him.
The two exchanged a short pass before Tielemans turned away from pressure and found Saka.
Saka attempted to advance but was immediately surrounded.
He played backward.
Chelsea pressed again.
The Emirates grew increasingly anxious.
Ten minutes into the half, Arsenal were still protecting their narrow advantage.
But the pressure was beginning to create something else.
Space.
Chelsea had pushed numbers forward.
Their full-backs were higher.
Their midfielders were committing farther into Arsenal's half.
And whenever Arsenal managed to break the first wave, there was room behind them.
Tielemans noticed it.
So did Ramsey.
So did Saka.
The next Chelsea attack broke down when Monreal intercepted a pass intended for Hazard.
He immediately gave the ball to Ramsey.
Ramsey turned.
Tielemans was already moving.
A pass found him.
Tielemans carried the ball forward.
Saka sprinted down the right.
Iwobi moved inside.
Suddenly, Chelsea were retreating.
The Emirates came alive.
Tielemans played toward Saka.
The winger controlled it and waited.
Instead of crossing immediately, he returned the ball inside.
Arsenal kept possession.
The attack slowed.
Then accelerated again.
Chelsea recovered their shape, but Arsenal had finally shown that they could hurt them.
Francesco stood from the bench.
The next attack went through the other side.
Iwobi received, combined with Ramsey and then found Smith Rowe between the lines.
Smith Rowe turned.
That one movement changed everything.
He carried the ball toward the Chelsea defense and waited for Saka's run.
Saka started outside.
Then cut inside.
Smith Rowe slipped the pass into his path.
Saka took it without breaking stride.
He entered the area.
The goalkeeper came forward.
Saka opened his body and guided the ball beyond him.
Goal.
2–0.
The Emirates erupted.
Saka turned immediately toward Smith Rowe.
The two ran toward each other and embraced.
Ramsey arrived next.
Tielemans followed.
Iwobi raised both arms toward the supporters.
Smith Rowe was laughing as Saka grabbed him around the shoulders.
"You saw it!" Saka shouted.
Smith Rowe grinned.
"I saw you."
Francesco applauded from the bench alongside the substitutes.
Denis stood too.
The celebration was short.
Wenger was already gesturing toward the players to return to their positions.
There was still football to play.
Chelsea's reaction was immediate.
Sarri called several players toward him during the restart, but the match resumed before anything could be discussed at length.
Hazard dropped deeper to receive.
Willian switched sides.
Hudson-Odoi pushed higher.
Chelsea needed a goal.
Arsenal knew it.
The next fifteen minutes became a test of concentration.
Chelsea attacked with greater urgency, but Arsenal now had more confidence.
The two-goal advantage changed the psychology of the match.
Instead of desperately trying to survive every attack, Arsenal could choose when to accelerate and when to slow the game.
Tielemans continued working.
Ramsey covered enormous ground.
Monreal kept talking.
Mustafi and Holding remained disciplined.
Saka continued threatening whenever Arsenal won possession.
Smith Rowe, however, was beginning to tire after his work between the lines.
Wenger noticed.
He also saw that the match was approaching the point where fresh legs could change the game.
He looked toward his bench.
Francesco was already ready.
So was Denis.
Mavropanos stood nearby.
Wenger made his decision.
The fourth official prepared the boards.
Sixty-six minutes.
The changes came together.
Olivier Giroud was withdrawn.
Emile Smith Rowe followed him.
Rob Holding also came off.
Francesco Lee entered.
Denis Suárez entered.
Konstantinos Mavropanos entered.
The Emirates reacted strongly when Francesco's number appeared.
For Denis, the moment carried a different significance.
This was no longer training.
No longer a friendly introduction.
No longer a first day spent learning teammates' names.
This was his competitive Arsenal debut.
Francesco approached him as they waited for the referee's signal.
"Enjoy it."
Denis nodded.
"I will."
Francesco smiled.
"Play your game."
The substitutions were completed.
Francesco moved into the central forward position.
Denis positioned himself behind and around him, finding the pockets where he could connect midfield with the attack.
Mavropanos settled into the defensive line.
At almost the same time, Chelsea made changes of their own.
Willian came off.
Eden Hazard followed him.
Pedro entered.
Gonzalo Higuaín joined him.
Sarri was sending experience and attacking quality onto the pitch.
Chelsea were not surrendering.
The match resumed.
Francesco's first involvement came almost immediately.
Tielemans found him with a pass into his feet.
Francesco held off the defender and laid the ball back toward Denis.
Denis took one touch.
The ball went to Saka.
Saka tried to accelerate.
Chelsea stopped him.
But the pattern was there.
Denis had not hesitated.
He had seen Francesco's movement and understood what the striker wanted.
A few minutes later, the two combined again.
Denis received between the lines.
Francesco moved toward the near side of the penalty area.
Denis shaped as if he would play wide.
Instead, he slipped the ball into Francesco's feet.
Francesco returned it immediately.
Denis continued forward.
The defender stepped across and intercepted before the final pass.
Denis nodded to himself.
Close.
He was beginning to settle.
There was concentration in his movements, but the nervousness that might have been expected from a competitive debut was gradually disappearing.
Francesco noticed.
"You're good," he called as they jogged back.
Denis smiled.
"Still learning."
"That's enough."
Chelsea continued pressing.
Pedro began drifting inside.
Higuaín occupied the central defenders.
Hudson-Odoi remained dangerous with his pace.
Barkley pushed forward.
Jorginho continued demanding the ball.
Kovačić carried possession through midfield whenever space appeared.
The visitors created moments.
One move ended with Higuaín reaching a cross but failing to direct it toward the target.
Another attack saw Hudson-Odoi cut inside before Mavropanos blocked the final pass.
Raya remained alert.
Arsenal had work to do.
But the difference was that they now had more opportunities to counter.
Francesco repeatedly offered himself as the first outlet.
Denis looked for him.
Sometimes the pass was available.
Sometimes it wasn't.
Football was rarely as simple as seeing a run and making a pass.
But their understanding was already useful.
It had started at London Colney.
Now it was being tested against Chelsea.
In the seventy-fifth minute, Denis received the ball under pressure and turned away from Barkley.
He carried it forward.
Francesco began moving across the defensive line.
Denis looked up.
The pass wasn't quite on.
He held the ball instead.
Francesco changed direction.
Denis played backward.
"Good decision," Wenger called from the touchline.
The move continued.
Arsenal retained possession.
There was no rush.
They had learned from the match.
A semi-final didn't need every attack to end with a shot.
Sometimes the smartest thing was to keep the ball.
Chelsea's urgency was beginning to work against them.
They had to attack.
Arsenal could wait.
Then came the eighty-second minute.
The move began in midfield.
Kovačić attempted to carry the ball forward, but Tielemans stepped across and won it cleanly.
He gave it to Denis.
Denis turned.
There was space.
Francesco was already moving.
Not toward the ball.
Away from it.
He pulled one defender with him.
Then he changed direction.
Denis saw it.
The decision came instantly.
He carried the ball two steps and then played a perfectly weighted pass into the space behind the defensive line.
Francesco accelerated.
He reached it before the defender.
One touch brought the ball under control.
The goalkeeper came out.
Francesco stayed composed.
He opened his body and placed the finish beyond the goalkeeper.
The ball rolled into the net.
3–0.
For a second, Francesco simply stood there.
Then he turned toward Denis.
Denis was already running.
Francesco opened his arms.
They met near the edge of the penalty area.
"You got it!" Denis shouted.
"That was yours!"
The rest of the Arsenal players arrived almost immediately.
Saka grabbed Denis around the shoulders.
Tielemans embraced him.
Ramsey came over laughing.
Mavropanos joined the group.
Even the substitutes on the sideline were celebrating.
Francesco stepped back and pointed directly toward Denis.
"Everyone knows who made that."
Denis looked almost embarrassed by the attention.
"Come on."
"No," Francesco said, smiling. "Your debut. Your assist."
Saka nodded.
"Beautiful pass."
Denis finally allowed himself to smile properly.
For the first time that evening, the significance of the moment seemed to reach him.
He had played his first competitive minutes for Arsenal.
And within them, he had created a goal for the club's captain.
That was something he would remember.
The Emirates recognized it too.
The supporters applauded loudly as the players returned toward their positions.
Wenger stood near the technical area, clapping once or twice before pointing toward the halfway line.
"Focus."
Francesco nodded.
There were still minutes remaining.
Chelsea refused to stop.
Pedro moved inside and attempted to combine with Higuaín.
Hudson-Odoi continued running at the Arsenal defense.
Barkley tried from distance.
Jorginho searched for openings.
Kovačić kept carrying the ball forward.
But Arsenal's defensive shape had become increasingly difficult to break.
Mavropanos settled quickly beside Mustafi and Monreal.
Tielemans dropped deeper.
Ramsey helped protect the center.
Denis worked back whenever necessary.
Francesco stayed available for the counter.
Every Chelsea attack now carried the same problem.
They needed a goal.
Arsenal didn't need to chase one.
The final minutes therefore became a contest of patience.
Arsenal circulated the ball whenever possible.
Denis received and released it quickly.
Tielemans continued moving into passing lanes.
Saka tracked back before breaking forward again.
Francesco occasionally dropped several yards to help Arsenal retain possession.
The Emirates began enjoying the sight of their team controlling the closing stages.
The supporters understood the situation.
It was a strong result.
But it was not yet the end of the tie.
When Chelsea finally managed to create another promising attack, Mavropanos stepped in front of Higuaín and cleared.
The ball reached Saka.
Saka carried it forward before playing inside.
Francesco chased.
Denis moved into support.
Arsenal kept the ball for several passes.
Then the referee looked at his watch.
The final whistle came.
Arsenal 3–0 Chelsea.
For a brief moment, the players simply stood where they were.
Then the satisfaction arrived.
Tielemans looked toward Giroud's former position and smiled.
Saka and Smith Rowe, now on the bench after their earlier contributions, acknowledged each other from the technical area.
The rotation players had done their job.
They had weathered Chelsea's pressure, taken their opportunities and established the advantage.
Francesco turned toward Denis.
"Come here."
Denis walked over.
Francesco put an arm around his shoulder.
"Remember this one."
Denis smiled.
"I don't think I'll forget."
They began walking toward the supporters.
The Arsenal players applauded the stands.
The supporters responded.
It was not a celebration of a completed trophy.
Nobody behaved as though the semi-final had been settled.
There was another leg to play.
Chelsea would have another opportunity.
But three goals without reply had given Arsenal a significant advantage.
And for Denis Suárez, the night carried an additional meaning.
His first competitive appearance for Arsenal had ended with an assist.
Francesco had finished it.
Saka and Smith Rowe had combined for another goal.
Tielemans had contributed the opening goal.
The rotation players had proven why Wenger had trusted them.
And the regular first-team players had entered when the match demanded another level.
As the squad eventually made its way toward the tunnel, Francesco looked once more toward Denis.
"You survived your debut."
Denis laughed.
"More than survived."
Francesco nodded.
"Fair enough."
They disappeared inside together.
The first leg belonged to Arsenal.
The scoreline read 3–0.
The second leg remained ahead.
But tonight, at the Emirates, Wenger's squad had done exactly what the manager had asked them to do.
They had taken the opportunity and had built the advantage, as they had left Chelsea with a mountain to climb.
__________________________________________________
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: 28
Goal: 31
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