"Captain!"
"Awesome!!"
Arsenal players swarmed toward Gilbert, who had opened his arms in celebration. He smiled and turned around, embracing the first few who rushed over.
Then, he spotted Ma'el in the crowd and joked, "That assist came easy for you."
Just now, Ma'el had simply played it back, racking up an assist.
It felt quite like Busquets' legendary assist to Messi, an effortless delight.
Ma'el leaned back and chuckled lightly, not arguing, "If you frequently passed to me, you could easily rack up assists too."
Regardless, he was very pleased. The performance evaluation for offensive players in the front field is much simpler than for midfield and defensive players; most often, performance is judged by stats.
So far, he had scored once and assisted once, with both of the team's goals linked to him!
It's certain, staying here should be no problem now.
With a few hundred pounds of weekly pay, he could gradually buy some good football boots for himself, supplement some nutrients, and then unlock new abilities to train to a high level!
The future is promising.
Ma'el's spirits lifted quite a bit. He felt lighthearted and tossed all exhaustion aside, ready to fight hard for a while longer.
If he could secure another goal or an assist... then his standout performance in this game would undoubtedly catch Mr. Wenger's and many scouts' eyes, perhaps earning him an early shot at a professional team opportunity.
"Alright, let's get back!"
After celebrating for a while, Captain Gilbert showed his never-give-up spirit, urging all his teammates, "There's still time; we shouldn't just be content with scoring. We should aim for victory as much as possible!"
The other players nodded and returned to their own half, and soon after, the referee whistled for the game to resume.
As the match restarted, the Liverpool players gradually felt some pressure. They realized their opponents' fighting spirit had returned, as if shaking off their previous slump.
The brilliant individual goal-scoring ability and the reduction in score difference gave them some confidence and hope.
"Don't be careless. Defenders, mark your men, and restrict their attackers from turning after receiving the ball!"
The Liverpool U17 coach stood up from the sideline, began directing the match, saying, "Especially that number 10, don't let him get the ball. Luis, help your teammates to defend him!"
Clearly, he also knew that Arsenal fielded many trial players in this match, not their strongest lineup.
If Liverpool couldn't secure a straightforward victory under these circumstances... he was very clear that in the next coach evaluation and replacement session, he would undoubtedly be eliminated.
Not far off, Hans and Wenger noticed the unusual tension of the Liverpool U17 coach.
As peers, they knew all too well that in Europe's survival-of-the-fittest football world, coaches and players alike face enormous pressure.
"Our club's replacements should still be a long way off, right?"
Hans scratched his head and looked at Wenger, this being his usual gesture; in the face of older veterans, this action of his seemed quite endearing. "There doesn't seem to be anything big happening at the club recently, everything is calm."
Wenger looked at him, then turned his gaze back to the pitch, saying sternly, "Calm waters mean no signings this season, which has nothing to do with replacement.
"And once there's no signing, the first-team coaching staff will promote talents from the youth team. If by then, those selected are far behind the first-team's strength and don't meet the requirements, then you can guess who's responsible?"
Hans' expression froze, standing still as if he were frozen in ice.
This means... if the older-age youth team fails to produce outstanding players, the corresponding coaching staff must leave.
The U17 team he leads seems to be the one under the most pressure.
Generally, potential players begin to shine at 17, and if escalated further to U19, their chances of getting noticed are much smaller.
Hans had heard about certain big countries supposedly having U23 player policies, something quite enviable, but it's unlikely in the fiercely competitive UK football scene.
At this moment, he could only sigh at his bad luck, happening to encounter such things while leading the U17s.
"I can give you a heads up in advance."
Wenger's voice sounded again, with some authority, "During previous planning, the club selected Gilbert and Ian from the U17 team. Their performance in team 1 will determine your job evaluation report."
"Ian..."
Hans glanced at Ian on the defense line. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "Ian is just that defender who was complaining about teammates... shirking responsibility."
"Oh."
Wenger was a bit surprised, then returned to calmness, "Then cross his name off. I'll ask the assistant coach to select someone else in his place."
While saying this, he subconsciously glanced at Ma'el on the field.
Just then, Ma'el received the ball with his back facing the goal, lowering his center of gravity to block the opposing defender while preparing to turn with the ball.
"Is he going for another shot?"
Wenger mumbled quietly, catching Hans's attention as they both focused on Ma'el with the ball on the field.
"Young man! Hit it!"
"Don't be afraid, just turn around and strike it!"
"Let's go, let's go!"
The jeering voices rose from the fan section behind them, with many already remembering Ma'el's face and style, urging him to take another long shot.
Under everyone's gaze, Ma'el finally managed to turn around on the pitch.
He feinted a leg swing shot, fooled the defender into shifting their balance, then gently tapped the ball to the right, and explosively pushed off with his legs to follow up.
What followed was simple.
He planted his supporting foot accurately, swung his left arm backward to extend his body, then his right thigh propelled his calf forward with force to strike hard!
"Boom!!"
The football sailed like a sharp sword, or a flying knife, directly hitting the far corner.
"Is there no end to this!" The Liverpool goalkeeper looked troubled as he cried out in distress and leaped, yet still couldn't make the save this time.
"Swish!" The ball hit the center of the far corner, causing the net to shake violently, denting backward more than two feet, showing the strength of the shot.
Goal, again!
Three to three!
Ma'el had scored his second goal in this match, achieving a brace!
"Yeah...!" Arsenal fans on the sidelines all stood up, opened their arms, and cheered, joining in the joy of the goal.
"What's his name?" someone asked, full of curiosity.
"This kid made his mark right when Mr. Wenger was watching. He'll definitely remember him!" someone quietly marveled.
"Is this some kind of magic? How can someone take two long shots in one game, so stable it's scary!" another person exclaimed, clutching their head.
All the fans watched the figure rushing to the sidelines to celebrate, feeling genuine admiration and joy.
Do you see this?
The cannonball shooter!
This is Arsenal's academy, and this is our future!