Arthur had barely taken his seat in the press room when the reporters pounced like wolves spotting fresh meat. He had just won his first match of the season, a 2–1 victory over Chelsea in the Community Shield, but to the assembled media, that was only the starting whistle.
Dozens of hands shot up at once. Some didn't even wait for recognition—questions came flying like a volley of footballs.
"Arthur! How do you feel about lifting your first trophy of the new season?"
"Arthur! How did Adriano recover so quickly?"
"Arthur! Do you believe in the Community Shield curse?"
The room was a blur of flashing cameras, clicking pens, and voices layered over one another. Arthur sat back, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes hinted at mild exasperation.
"Easy, easy," he said, raising a hand like a teacher trying to quiet an unruly classroom. "I'm glad to win the first game of the new season, of course. But let's not pretend this was the Champions League final. It's just the Community Shield, everyone knows that. For me, what matters more than the trophy is how the players looked out there—whether they were sharp, whether they followed my tactical plan. And I have to say, yes, I'm very satisfied with what I saw today."
His calm tone drew scribbles from every notebook in the room. A journalist from Sky Sports fired the next question.
"When exactly did Didico—Adriano—recover to his current level? It looked like the old him out there tonight."
Arthur gave a little shrug, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Recover? I remember saying last month, standing next to Kaka, that he'd already found himself again. He's been showing this in training every single week! I don't think it should shock anyone. The only people surprised today are those who don't watch Leeds United train."
Another round of pens scratched furiously. But the third question made Arthur chuckle outright.
"The Community Shield is considered an ominous battle—does that worry you?"
Arthur leaned into the microphone, eyes glinting. "Ominous battle? Hahahaha! No, I don't buy into that nonsense. I said in my last press conference: Leeds United's aim this season is to fight for every single trophy available. League, cup, Europe—you name it. Last year, a journalist didn't believe me when I said that. He even made a bet with me. If you're curious, check the Manchester Evening News from June—you'll find a whole month of apology articles from him after he lost the bet!"
The press room burst into laughter, some shaking their heads, others chuckling as they scribbled down the quote. Arthur, satisfied, quickly stood, waved, and began edging toward the exit. He had no intention of sitting here through Mourinho's looming entrance. If he stuck around, the questions would only multiply.
So he slipped out, quick as a fox, leaving the circus behind.
····
The walk back to the locker room required passing through the mixed zone—an area where reporters lingered like fishermen waiting for their next big catch. Sure enough, Arthur turned the corner and immediately spotted a commotion.
There was Adriano, Leeds United's No. 18, today's man of the match, standing in front of the sponsor's billboard with microphones thrust in his face. A dozen reporters crowded him, eager for every word.
Arthur slowed his pace, just in time to hear Adriano's booming laugh.
"After the game, I pinched my thigh quietly," Adriano was saying, his thick accent adding weight to every word. "And the pain told me it wasn't a dream!"
The surrounding reporters erupted into laughter. Even Arthur cracked a grin. Adriano grinned wider, enjoying the reaction.
"I'm serious!" he went on, raising his hands. "It wasn't until the final whistle that I realized I wasn't dreaming. Two months ago, I was actually thinking about retiring!"
That dropped like a bomb. Every reporter's jaw practically hit the floor. Pens froze mid-scribble. Retire? At twenty-five?
"What!?" one journalist gasped, voice cracking. Cameras whirred faster, lenses zooming in, as if the man might vanish if they blinked.
Adriano wagged his finger. "Don't look at me like that. I told you the truth. Back then, my body felt broken, my spirit worse. Playing football felt impossible. Just standing on the pitch was a luxury for me. But since coming to Leeds United… I feel like I've been reborn. My body is fine again. My head is clear. Two months of training here, and I didn't disappoint today. I gave Arthur what he asked of me."
The reporters were hooked now, scribbling notes with ferocity, murmuring to each other as they queued up their next question.
"Adriano, can we talk about Arthur?" one finally asked, pushing his mic closer. "We all know your relationship with Moratti was strong. Given that, how on earth did Arthur convince you to join Leeds United? And what exactly did he do to help you recover?"
Adriano chuckled, shaking his head with disbelief, as though the answer still amazed even him. "How did he help me? Honestly, I think Arthur has some mysterious power. I don't know how to explain it. The moment I agreed to join Leeds United, I felt… lighter. My whole mental state shifted. He even told me that Sebastian—Deisler—had found redemption here too. And as for convincing me?" Adriano's grin widened, eyes softening at the memory.
"It was simple. He asked me one question."
The pack of reporters leaned forward almost in unison, hungry for the punchline.
"What question?" they chorused.
Adriano's voice lowered, carrying both gravity and warmth. "He asked me, 'Didico, do you still want to play football?'"
The silence afterward was thick. Cameras clicked, pens hovered, but everyone seemed to hold their breath. Finally, one journalist whispered the inevitable follow-up.
"And what did you answer?"
Adriano's smile broke into something fierce, his voice ringing out with the passion of a man reborn.
"I said, 'Coach, I do!'"
The words echoed in the mixed zone. The reporters exchanged glances, knowing they had just witnessed a headline moment, the kind of quote that would be plastered across back pages by morning.
And Arthur, watching from a few feet away, couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Adriano wasn't just back—he was alive again. And Leeds United, under his management, was the stage for that resurrection.
*****
The next morning, the headlines practically wrote themselves.
Every major sports paper, every online portal, and even the cheeky self-media blogs couldn't resist weighing in on the Community Shield match. Sure, it wasn't the most prestigious trophy in English football—most managers treated it like a glorified preseason friendly—but it had people talking.
And strangely, it wasn't Leeds United's new big-name signing Kaka who dominated the conversation.
It was Adriano.
The man they'd written off. The man they'd mocked. The man Arthur had supposedly wasted 35 million euros on.
Before the match, critics had been merciless. "Dead weight," one headline sneered. "A striker with the mobility of a fridge," another jeered. "Leeds have thrown 35 million down the drain," declared a pundit on Match of the Day.
But after Adriano's thunderous 80-meter solo run and finish against Chelsea? Suddenly, the tune had changed.
The Mirror wasted no time plastering a front-page headline across its sports section that morning:
"80 METERS, 35 MILLION EUROS! EVERY STRIDE WORTH 430,000 EUROS!"
The article dripped with both awe and thinly veiled embarrassment.
"Adriano's performance yesterday was nothing short of miraculous. A player many considered finished delivered one of the most astonishing solo goals in recent Community Shield history. Once again, Arthur has proven his uncanny eye for talent. If Adriano can show that this was more than a one-off, then Leeds United's investment will look like a masterstroke. Fans of Leeds should be excited, but perhaps even more so, the Brazilian national team has reason to smile."
The piece went on to speculate about Brazil's future.
"With Ronaldo edging into the twilight of his career, Adriano was once tipped to be the natural heir to the throne. His decline left fans disillusioned. But now? If Leeds can truly resurrect the old Adriano, then combine him with Kaka—also at Leeds—Brazil's World Cup prospects in three years could be electrifying."
Across town, the Guardian was more reserved but still grudgingly impressed.
"Arthur gambled on Adriano when no one else dared, and he may well have won big. Yesterday's goal was not only a statement, it was catharsis—the return of a player many thought lost to football's abyss."
Meanwhile, the tabloids did what tabloids do best—turn one man's redemption into comedy.
····
If the newspapers gave Adriano back his dignity, the internet gleefully took it away again.
During his post-match interview, Adriano had shared that Arthur convinced him to join Leeds with a single question:
"Didico, do you still want to play football?"
That simple line was now immortalised as the meme of the day.
Twitter users wasted no time adapting it for every possible scenario.
"do you still want to study?" — posted above a picture of a kid asleep on his homework.
"do you still want to go to nightclubs?" — slapped onto a photo of a nightclub queue stretching down the street.
"do you still want to eat your vegetables?" — featuring a sulky child glaring at a plate of broccoli.
Within hours, the line had become the number-one trending question online. Arthur, unwittingly, had gone viral.
Of course, Arthur himself wasn't losing any sleep over memes or media spin. While journalists debated whether Adriano was truly "back," he had bigger things on his mind.
After the high of Wembley, he gave his players a much-needed day off. The squad had earned a breather after weeks of intense training and the adrenaline rush of beating Mourinho's Chelsea. But football never stops, and the real business of the season was just around the corner.
····
On the training ground two days later, Arthur was already barking instructions, stopwatch in hand, as his players sweated under the cloudy Yorkshire sky.
The Community Shield was over. Now came the real deal: the Premier League.
In four days, on August 11, the champions Leeds United would kick off their title defense with an away trip to Goodison Park, facing Everton.
Arthur knew Everton weren't the most fearsome opponents on paper. They hadn't made any blockbuster signings during the summer, and their squad looked much the same as the previous season. Solid, disciplined, hardworking—but not spectacular.
Still, away games were never simple in England. The tight pitch at Goodison, the roar of the home crowd, and the sheer unpredictability of opening-day football all added spice to the fixture.
Arthur had his concerns. His players had gone nearly two months without a proper competitive match before the Community Shield.
He worried about rustiness, about sloppy touches or tired legs. Would they still have the edge when the grind of the league began?
But as he stood on the sideline, watching Adriano sprint past defenders in training, watching Kaka thread passes with effortless grace, watching Bale's pace rip through defensive lines, those doubts began to fade.
The performance against Chelsea had reassured him. His team was sharp. His tactics were sinking in. The hunger was still there.
Arthur allowed himself a small smile, clapping his hands to summon the squad in. "Alright, lads, that's enough running for today. Save the energy—you'll need it for Everton. And if anyone dares lose concentration, don't make me ask you the question Adriano hates."
The players groaned in unison. Someone—probably Alves—shouted back with a laugh, "Boss, don't say it!"
Arthur smirked. "Oh, I'll say it. Do you still want to play football?"
The training ground erupted with laughter. Even Adriano, mock-scowling, shook his head and muttered, "Never living this down…"
But as they jogged off the pitch, spirits high, Arthur knew one thing for certain: Leeds United were ready.