NB: Sorry for the lack of updates. My college clearance and preparations for National Service have kept me pretty busy. Whatever little free time I had, I spent with family and friends, or sometimes just being lazy. đ
Updates should be regular from now on. Thank you for your patience and for sticking around.
. . .
The second round of Champions League group-stage fixtures was fast approaching.
In Group C, one match stood above the rest.
Arsenal against Atlético Madrid.
The Gunners were facing one of the most difficult sides in Europe, a team that had become synonymous with discipline, aggression, and defensive organisation under Diego Simeone.
Over the past few seasons, Atlético had established themselves as one of the most formidable defensive teams in Europe. Simeone had built a side that could suffocate opponents, absorb pressure for long periods, and then punish the smallest mistake.
They were intense, physical, and relentless.
For Premier League sides in particular, Atlético were an awkward opponent.
Chelsea had already discovered that the hard way the previous season, suffering a heavy defeat against Simeone's men.
Now it was Arsenal's turn.
The media had already begun building the match up.
On paper, Arsenal had the bigger reputation. They were one of England's traditional giants and the reigning Champions League holders.
Atlético had plenty of respect across Europe, but they did not possess the same history or global profile.
Form, however, told a different story.
Arsenal were struggling.
Atlético were flying.
If Arsenal carried their recent form into this match, the result could be ugly.
Pat Rice knew it.
He wasn't going to pretend he was some tactical genius capable of conjuring a miracle overnight. His job was simpler.
Stabilise the team.
Give them a platform to compete.
Most importantly, protect home advantage.
Arsenal could not afford another defeat at the Emirates.
. . .
Atlético's team bus pulled into the hotel in London.
The players began filing inside, surrounded by security and a small crowd of reporters waiting outside.
Among them was a Chinese journalist who suddenly raised his voice.
"Fernando! Over here!"
One of Atlético's centre-backs turned toward the sound.
The huge defender recognised the reporter and said something quietly to Simeone before giving him a brief wave.
The reporter immediately moved toward the side entrance.
"I'm Wang Xincheng from CCTV Sports," he said when he finally caught up with him. "Could I get a quick word about the match?"
Fernando Kairui glanced toward the hotel entrance.
He didn't have much time, but he stopped.
"Sure."
"How do you see the game against Arsenal?"
Fernando smiled.
"How else should I see it? We're here to win."
He shrugged.
"If we want to go further in this competition, we have to beat teams like Arsenal."
The reporter nodded before moving to his next question.
"And what about Kai?"
Fernando's smile faded slightly.
"Kai's going through a difficult period, but that's football. You can't control everything that happens around you."
He paused.
"But once the whistle blows, none of that matters."
His grin returned.
"And I certainly won't be giving him an easy night. He shouldn't expect any favours."
The reporter laughed.
"The national team has several friendlies coming up. Will we see you involved?"
"Absolutely not."
Fernando laughed.
"There are plenty of young players desperate for a chance. Let them have it."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Save me for the World Cup. I don't need to spend my time flying around the world for meaningless friendlies."
The reporter smiled.
"Any message for Chen Man?"
Fernando immediately broke into laughter.
"That guy?"
He shook his head.
"Did you see that performance? He got destroyed."
Fernando laughed again.
"Tell him to work harder."
. . .
Inside the Arsenal dressing room, Kai's phone suddenly began ringing.
It was Chen Man.
Kai answered.
"Hello?"
"Beat him!"
Kai frowned.
"Calm down."
"Beat him! Get him for me! That bastard has no respect!"
Kai pulled the phone slightly away from his ear.
Chen's voice grew even louder.
"Don't let Fernando get away with it! Beat him!"
Kai sighed.
"You're embarrassing yourself."
"Beat him!"
Kai hung up.
Wilshere, sitting nearby, looked over.
"Who was that?"
Kai slipped his phone into his pocket.
"Wrong number."
Wilshere stared at him for a second before deciding not to ask.
"Fair enough."
He leaned forward.
"But I've got some good news."
Kai raised an eyebrow.
"Good news?"
They could certainly use some.
"Cazorla's surgery went well."
Kai's expression immediately changed.
Wilshere smiled.
"His recovery is going smoothly. The doctors think he could be back in training before the end of the season."
Kai's eyes lit up.
For Arsenal, that was enormous news. They had been missing Cazorla's creativity, composure, and ability to control the tempo in midfield.
Knowing he was on his way back gave the squad something they desperately needed.
Hope.
Before Kai could say anything, the dressing-room door opened.
Pat Rice walked in with the rest of the coaching staff.
The room immediately quietened.
Pat didn't waste time.
He read through the matchday squad and then gave the players their final instructions.
"Let's get moving. The bus is waiting."
The players grabbed their bags and filed out.
. . .
Half an hour later, the Arsenal squad arrived at the Emirates.
The stadium was already packed.
The atmosphere was loud, tense, and expectant.
Arsenal's form might have been poor, but the supporters hadn't abandoned them.
They had complained.
They had booed.
They had demanded better.
But they were still there.
That mattered.
The players knew it.
During the warm-up, Kai eventually crossed paths with Fernando Kairui in the tunnel.
Fernando looked him up and down.
"Kai, you've lost weight."
Kai looked at him and laughed.
"You've put on weight."
Fernando immediately looked offended.
"I've gotten stronger."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Fernando snorted.
The difference was obvious.
He had always been a powerful centre-back, but he'd become even broader over the past year. More importantly, the extra muscle hadn't taken away his mobility. Fernando could still cover ground quickly, change direction sharply, and step out aggressively to win the ball.
Beside him stood Diego GodĂn.
The two formed one of the strongest centre-back partnerships in Spain, and arguably one of the best in Europe.
Kai's smile disappeared as he looked toward them.
Friendly banter was one thing.
The match was another.
Arsenal had a problem to solve.
How were they going to break through Atlético's defensive wall?
And more importantly, how were they going to get past Fernando and GodĂn?
The two exchanged a few more words before heading back to their teams.
After that, they kept their distance.
There was nothing wrong with speaking privately, but neither wanted to attract unnecessary attention before the match. A few friendly words were enough. Standing around chatting in front of the cameras was another.
Once the warm-up ended, both teams returned to their dressing rooms.
A few minutes later, the players emerged again, led by their respective captains, and gathered in the tunnel.
The stadium announcer's voice carried through the Emirates.
"Here we go. Arsenal and Atlético Madrid are ready to take the field."
The broadcast camera focused on the Arsenal players.
"Leading Arsenal out is their captain, Le Kai. At just twenty-two years old, he has already lifted the Champions League trophy with the Gunners, and his influence within this team is undeniable."
The camera moved down the line.
"Behind him is Petr Äech, who made the move across London from Chelsea to Arsenal. An experienced goalkeeper with countless big-game appearances."
One by one, the Arsenal players were introduced.
Then the camera shifted toward Atlético.
"And now we come to one of the most familiar faces for Chinese football fans."
"Fernando Kairui."
"Fernando made a huge impression during the 2014 World Cup, establishing himself as one of China's most dependable defenders. Since moving to AtlĂ©tico Madrid, he has formed an outstanding partnership with Diego GodĂn."
"Together, Fernando and GodĂn have become one of the most respected centre-back pairings in European football."
The commentator paused as the camera showed Fernando standing beside GodĂn.
"Both Le Kai and Fernando have developed considerably since that World Cup. Now, a year later, the two meet again, this time on one of the biggest stages in club football."
"Arsenal are defending their Champions League crown, while Atlético Madrid are looking to prove that they belong among Europe's elite."
"Who will come out on top?"
"We're about to find out."
The referee stepped forward.
The players followed him onto the pitch.
The moment they emerged from the tunnel, the Emirates erupted.
A wall of noise crashed down from the stands.
"Come on, Arsenal!"
"Come on, you Gunners!"
"Let's beat Atlético!"
"Come on, Arsenal!"
The supporters were on their feet, roaring at the top of their lungs.
The atmosphere was overwhelming.
The Arsenal players looked around the stadium.
Their expressions hardened.
They could feel the expectations.
They knew what these supporters wanted.
And they had no intention of letting them down.
After the team photographs and the customary handshakes, the referee called the captains over.
"Captains."
Kai and Gabi FernĂĄndez stepped forward.
They shook hands.
At first, it seemed routine.
Then Kai felt Gabi tighten his grip.
Kai's fingers tightened in response.
Neither man looked away.
For a moment, their hands remained locked between them, knuckles whitening as both refused to be the first to release.
The referee finally stepped between them.
"That's enough."
They separated.
Neither smiled.
Gabi stared directly at Kai.
Kai returned the look without blinking.
There was no need for words.
They were the leaders of their respective sides, and neither intended to give the other an inch. The match hadn't even started, yet the battle between the two captains had already begun.
Gabi returned to his position, his expression immediately becoming serious.
The atmosphere inside the Emirates made it impossible to relax.
Arsenal might have been struggling, but they were still the reigning Champions League holders. A team of that quality could find its form at any moment.
Against Arsenal, there was no room for complacency.
"Stay focused!" Gabi shouted in Spanish. "Keep your shape and don't give them anything cheap!"
He turned toward the forwards.
"Griezmann!"
The Frenchman looked back.
"One thing from you. Score."
Griezmann raised two fingers to his temple in his familiar gesture.
"Got it."
Since Diego Costa's departure, Simeone had placed increasing responsibility on Griezmann's shoulders.
The Frenchman had responded brilliantly.
He had developed into Atlético's main attacking threat, combining movement, intelligence, and an increasingly reliable eye for goal.
Atlético had always produced dangerous forwards.
Fernando Torres.
Diego Costa.
Now Griezmann.
Different players, different styles, but all capable of changing a match with a single moment.
That attacking threat allowed Atlético to play the way Simeone wanted. They could defend deep, absorb pressure, and wait for the right moment to strike.
On the other hand, Arsenal's defence had been one of the strongest in Europe the previous season.
Their attacking players received most of the attention, but much of Arsenal's success had been built on their ability to defend as a unit and control matches from the back.
And at the heart of that system was their captain.
Le Kai.
Gabi glanced across the pitch toward him.
He had a great deal of respect for the young Arsenal captain.
Le Kai was still several years younger than Gabi, yet he had already achieved something that had eluded Atlético's captain for his entire career.
He had lifted the Champions League trophy.
Gabi couldn't deny that a small part of him envied him for it.
But he never believed Arsenal's triumph had been down to luck.
You didn't win the Champions League by accident.
Across the pitch, Le Kai was gathering his own players.
"Stay patient!"
His voice carried across the midfield.
"Don't force it. We'll find our chances."
This match was important.
As the standout fixture in Group C, it could have a major impact on the battle for top spot.
Both Arsenal and Atlético were serious contenders.
Neither side would give the other an easy night.
The Greek referee, Anastasios Sidiropoulos, checked his watch before moving away from the centre circle.
Atlético Madrid were kicking off.
Arsenal, 4-3-3
Goalkeeper: Äech
Defenders: Chambers, Mertesacker, Koscielny, Monreal
Midfielders: Kanté, Wilshere, Kai
Forwards: Aubameyang, SuĂĄrez, SĂĄnchez
Atlético Madrid, 4-4-2
Goalkeeper: Oblak
Defenders: Juanfran, Fernando, GodĂn, Filipe LuĂs
Midfielders: Ăliver Torres, Gabi, Thiago, Correa
Forwards: Griezmann, MartĂnez
"Both teams are ready."
"The Emirates is waiting."
"The Champions League is underway!"
The whistle went.
MartĂnez immediately played the ball backward.
The Emirates erupted.
Arsenal's players surged forward.
"Keep your distances!" Le Kai shouted.
The Arsenal midfielders spread out as they advanced, maintaining enough space to prevent Atlético from playing through them while keeping the pressure coordinated.
Atlético were never a side obsessed with dominating possession.
They were perfectly comfortable giving the ball away if it meant disrupting Arsenal's rhythm and winning it back aggressively.
SĂĄnchez received the ball and immediately found himself surrounded.
Two Atlético players closed him down.
A third stepped across his passing lane.
SĂĄnchez tried to shield the ball.
"Back!"
He heard the call behind him and played it immediately.
Le Kai had dropped into space.
He collected the ball and moved it across the pitch, drawing Atlético's midfield toward him.
His eyes remained on Aubameyang.
Atlético reacted immediately.
Their defensive line narrowed toward the Gabon international.
At the same time, one of their midfielders stepped toward Le Kai.
But Le Kai was already moving.
He dragged the ball across his body, turned away from the pressure, and created a few yards of space before playing it back toward SĂĄnchez.
One touch.
One pass.
The pressure was gone.
Andy Gray's voice came through the broadcast.
"Kai is reading this extremely well. He drops in, draws the pressure, then moves the ball away before Atlético can trap him."
"That's what makes him so important to Arsenal. When he's on the pitch, they always have someone capable of taking control of the tempo."
Le Kai's role had changed considerably since the beginning of the season.
He was no longer simply Arsenal's defensive midfielder.
Under Pat Rice's guidance, he had gradually developed into a much more complete player.
He defended.
He distributed.
He organised.
He carried the ball forward.
And increasingly, he was becoming involved in Arsenal's attacks.
The old Le Kai would rarely have ventured this far forward with Cazorla available.
Now he was the link between almost every phase of Arsenal's play.
"Don't force it!" he shouted.
SĂĄnchez had started to accelerate down the flank.
"Take your time."
SĂĄnchez slowed down.
Instead of attempting to beat his marker, he played the ball across to SuĂĄrez.
SuĂĄrez moved toward it.
Then someone suddenly appeared in front of him.
Fernando.
The Atlético defender stepped in aggressively and knocked the ball away with a perfectly timed challenge.
Fernando clenched his fist.
But his celebration lasted barely a second.
Le Kai had already stepped onto the loose ball.
He brushed Thiago aside with his shoulder and drove straight toward the penalty area.
Fernando's eyes widened.
"Fernando!"
GodĂn shouted.
Fernando spun around and sprinted back.
Kai's interception had completely caught Atlético off guard. As he approached the edge of the box, he shifted the ball toward the left.
Aubameyang arrived at the same time.
He rose above his marker and headed the ball back toward the centre. SuĂĄrez attacked it, but GodĂn had read the danger. The AtlĂ©tico centre-back stepped across and headed the ball onto SuĂĄrez, before heading out.
Goal kick.
Le Kai nodded to himself.
It wasn't a clear chance, but it had been useful.
They had tested Atlético's defensive shape.
Fernando, meanwhile, was still catching his breath.
He looked toward Le Kai.
"That nearly gave me a heart attack."
He had thought he understood his international teammate.
Apparently, Le Kai had developed even further than he'd realised.
Gabi jogged over and put a hand on Fernando's shoulder.
"Don't dive in unnecessarily. Stay with the line and trust the players around you."
Fernando nodded.
"Understood, Captain."
Simeone and Gabi had placed enormous faith in Fernando. He was expected to become one of the pillars of Atlético's defence for years to come.
Now he had to prove that he could handle Arsenal's attack.
A few moments later, Arsenal won a corner.
Wilshere walked over to take it.
Inside the box, Atlético immediately assigned two players to Le Kai.
His aerial ability had become a major threat.
Fernando stayed tight to him.
Thiago took the other side.
Le Kai barely stopped moving.
A step backward.
Then forward.
Left.
Right.
He constantly changed his position, searching for the smallest opening.
Fernando refused to lose sight of him.
Then Le Kai suddenly twisted his body.
He feinted toward the near post and burst forward.
"Not this time!"
Fernando followed.
But Le Kai stopped abruptly.
At the same moment, Wilshere delivered the corner.
Fernando couldn't halt his momentum.
He collided with Le Kai.
Le Kai stumbled from the impact but kept his balance.
His core strength allowed him to stay upright.
Then he planted both feet.
Lowered his centre of gravity.
And exploded upward.
Fernando looked up.
Le Kai was already in the air.
He had jumped earlier than everyone else.
He was relying on his exceptional leap and hang time to meet the ball before the defenders could react.
"He's jumped early!"
Fernando's eyes widened.
Then he realised what Le Kai was doing.
The Arsenal captain seemed to hang in the air.
Fernando could only stare.
"Fuck..."
Le Kai's eyes remained fixed on the incoming ball.
Then he met it with his forehead.
Thud!
The header flew toward goal, but GodĂn reacted brilliantly. The AtlĂ©tico defender threw himself into the path of the ball and managed to block it with his chest.
Thiago immediately followed up.
He smashed the loose ball away and sent it safely out of play.
Le Kai landed and looked toward the goal.
So close.
The first real warning had been sent.
. . .
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