The teams emerge from the tunnels, the roar of the crowd greeting them as they take their positions for the second half. The energy in the stadium is different now; what was once a comfortable Arsenal lead is now an electrifying, nail-biting tie. "And here we go, folks! The second half is underway!" Mark's voice is full of renewed excitement. "It's all to play for now. It's a brand new game."
"Wait a minute, Mark," Jack says, his voice rising in pitch. "Look at the substitution board for Arsenal. There's a change to their lineup. And... oh my goodness! I can't believe it."
Mark's eyes scan the field, and his breath catches in his throat. "Oh my god, Jack. Are you seeing this? It can't be."
"It is, Mark! The man known as the 'War General' has made his way back to the field after 10 months on the sidelines. Antonio Pele has returned! What a moment for Arsenal, and what a tactical gamble from their manager. The greatest player of his generation is back on the pitch to try and win this game for his team!"
As the news of Pele's return spreads through the stadium, a new chant erupts from the Arsenal supporters. It's a defiant, confident song aimed directly at their rivals.
"Oh Tottenham, oh Tottenham.
Do you know how fucked you are right now?"
"Oh Tottenham, oh Tottenham,
You get to witness what Pele is all about!"
The chant echoes around the stadium, a stark contrast to the nervous silence from the Spurs end. The whistle blows, and the second half is underway. Tottenham starts on the front foot, pushing forward with the momentum they built at the end of the first half. The ball finds its way to Hall in the midfield, who hesitates for just a fraction of a second, trying to decide whether to pass to Leon or Alex. That's all the time Pele needs. He appears as if from nowhere, an absolute predator, and cleanly steals the ball.
The crowd holds its breath as Pele charges forward, a blur of motion. The Spurs midfielders swarm around him, but he's already in a different dimension. A simple chop on the ball, a flick to the side, then a lightning-quick Elastico that leaves two defenders stumbling and gasping. He has created a pocket of space, and his eyes are already on his target. He delivers a perfect cross to Tennison, who has made a sharp, intelligent cut inside the box. Tennison meets the ball with a powerful header, and it sails into the back of the net. The Tottenham goalkeeper has no chance. Arsenal leads 4-3, and the man who changed the game hasn't even had a shot on goal yet.
Coach John watches from the sideline, a grim look on his face. The roar of the Arsenal fans is deafening, but his mind is in a quiet, analytical space. He thinks to himself, "So, it has begun. The first 'Wall' Leon and Alex have to face. They've been impressive so far, but today they get a taste of what a world-class player is like. A player who has dominated the game for a decade. This is the ultimate test."
On the opposite sideline, Coach Lopetegui allows himself a rare, confident smile. He's been waiting for this moment. He thinks to himself, "Although your boys are good, here they're dealing with a man forged from the hard streets of Brazil. A man who has seen it all and done it all. In his prime, we had teams offering as much as £95 million as the cheapest price to buy him from us."
Lopetegui's mind drifts back to those difficult years. "I won't lie. There were times I myself thought he would leave us for a bigger club, a truly global powerhouse like Bayern, Real Madrid, or Barcelona. But he stayed here because he thought the longer he stayed, maybe the Premier League would birth his rival for him." A shadow of a memory crosses Lopetegui's face. "Then the injury happened. It was devastating. He was in a dark place, and he almost didn't return to us. He had lost his spark, his passion for the game. Well, that was until he saw Leon and Alex's debut match for Spurs against Crystal Palace. He called me the next day, and I knew from the sound of his voice he had found something to fight for again. Someone to fight. I won't lie, at first I thought he was lying. But, the more I watched their matches the more I noticed what he ment. These two, will be the next 7&10."
Back on the field, the game is now completely in Arsenal's control. Pele is pulling the strings, orchestrating the attack with a master's touch. As he trots past Leon, their paths crossing for a moment in the center of the pitch, he looks the young player straight in the eye. The Brazilian's expression is unreadable, a mix of respect and a challenge. "What you can do," Pele says, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, "I can do better... at least for now."
The back-and-forth between the two teams continues, but it's clear that the momentum has shifted. Arsenal, with Pele pulling the strings, is an entirely different beast. In the 52nd minute, the Gunners' pressure pays off again. A quick exchange of passes, a clever feint from Tennison to draw a defender away, and the ball falls perfectly to Pele just outside the penalty box. He takes one touch to control and with his second, he unleashes a powerful, low shot that curls into the bottom right corner of the net, leaving the keeper with no chance. The crowd erupts. But Pele doesn't celebrate. Instead, he walks slowly to the center of the midfield, where Leon and Alex are standing, their faces a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "You two are boring," he says, his voice cutting through the cheers. "All that talent and one little old me can suppress it this much? Man, I swear, I thought you'd be more of a challenge for me."
Alex's face flushes with anger. "You old fart! You may be the best of your era, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to us the way you want!"
Pele just looks at him, a cool, knowing expression on his face. "I might be old, but the moment I stepped on the field, you guys haven't been making a lot of plays. You know, if you stopped looking for individual moments and focused more on playing in sync, you two might be the greatest duo to ever do it. To think I thought I saw potential rivals in you two... I guess I was wrong."
The word "rival" hangs in the air, and it hits Leon and Alex with the force of a physical blow. They had followed Pele's career meticulously. They knew his history. Ever since he had stepped foot in Arsenal, he had never once acknowledged anyone as his "rival." It didn't matter if you were the stars like Yamal, Doué, Bellingham, Palmer, or Musiala. No matter who was brought up, his response was always the same: "Oh, that guy. He isn't too bad, I guess." But for the first time in his career, he had acknowledged them, if only to dismiss them as a disappointment. The challenge was now clear. It wasn't about winning anymore; it was about proving him wrong.
"Hey," Alex says, his voice low and tight, the anger from his exchange with Pele gone, replaced by a cold self-awareness. "When did it start? When we stopped playing like a team?"
Leon doesn't even have to think about it. "The moment he stepped on the field."
He's not wrong. The instant they walked onto the pitch for the second half and saw the legendary Arsenal number 10, both Leon and Alex had the same thought, a single, all-consuming idea that hijacked their minds: "This is my chance to surpass him." And that's when they started acting selfishly.
There were at least five chances, clear opportunities where a simple pass to each other would have resulted in a certain goal. But instead of playing their usual intricate, symbiotic game, they each tried to do it all themselves, to prove to Pele, and to each other, that they were the one who could beat him. They wanted to be the individual hero, the one who could outshine the legend.
Now, with the score sitting at 5-3 and Pele's dismissive words still hanging in the air, they see how foolish they were. They finally understand that their true power lies not in their individual talent, but in their synergy. They are called the "Spurs Phoenix Twins" for a reason. Their play together is what makes them unstoppable.
Leon turns to Alex, a newfound determination in his eyes. The anger and frustration are gone, replaced by a steely resolve. "Hey," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's start from zero. Let's show him what we're made of."
The match resumes, and Tottenham, with a renewed sense of purpose, begins to press higher up the pitch. They're moving the ball with a fluidity that was absent just minutes ago, their passes crisp and intentional. In the 67th minute, their efforts pay off. A perfect through ball from Edwardo slices through the Arsenal defense, finding Alex Owen in stride. But as Alex races toward the goal, he sees a flash of red and white. It's Pele, the Brazilian legend, who has sprinted all the way back to defend. It's a one-on-one showdown. Alex's mind races. "I'm not a good dribbler like Leon, so the best I can do is this," he thinks to himself. In an act of pure trust and selflessness, he backheels the ball to Hall, who had been following the play.
Hall, in a moment of pure instinct, immediately sends the ball to Leon, who is now cutting into the empty space on the left flank and charging into the penalty area.
Jasper de Jong rushes out to cut off the angle, but Leon has already made his decision. Instead of a powerful shot or a delicate chip, he does the unthinkable. He performs the Özil bounce, a rarely seen, almost impossible shot that has the ball bouncing just before the goal line, completely wrong-footing the goalkeeper. The ball bounces once and spins into the net. Making the score 5-4.
Pele watches from a distance, a slight smile on his face. "That's more like it", he thinks to himself. The goal was a thing of beauty, a testament to their combined genius. The selfishness was gone, replaced by the selfless, unselfish play that had made them so dangerous. As the Spurs players celebrate, Leon and Alex walk over to him. "Thanks for reminding us who we are," Leon says, a look of genuine respect on his face.
Pele simply shrugs.
"No need for thanks. I did it for me, not for you. It's always good to crush an opponent when they're at their best."
He turns and walks back to his position, leaving the two young players to contemplate his words. The match continues with a furious pace. Both teams are pushing for a winner. In the 79th minute, a through ball is sent to Alex Owen, who races into the box. Just as he's about to take a shot, Hummels lunges in with a nasty tackle, bringing Alex down. The referee immediately points to the spot. It's a penalty for Tottenham! Alex gets up, a look of grim determination on his face. He grabs the ball and places it on the spot. He looks at the goalkeeper and then back at Pele, who is standing in the midfield, his eyes fixed on him. Alex takes a deep breath and strikes the ball with a powerful shot, placing it in the top corner of the net. The goalkeeper dives the wrong way, and the ball goes in. The stadium erupts in a frenzy! The score is now tied, 5-5!
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Match stats:
Arsenal
1st Goal: Klaus Müller (assisted by van der Sar)
2nd Goal: Klaus Müller
3rd Goal: Mats Hummels (assisted by Müller)
4th Goal: Liam Tennison (assisted by Pele)
5th Goal: Antonio Pele
spur Scorers
1st Goal: Leon Blake
2nd Goal: Alex Owen (assisted by Blake)
3rd Goal: Leon Blake (assisted by Alex Owen)
4th Goal: Leon Blake (assisted by Hall)
5th Goal: Alex Owen