As August approaches, the Premier League and Championship League are about to kick off.
Arsenal’s Korni Training Base, the head coach’s office.
Wenger was smoking constantly, leaning against the window, his face clouded with worry and rare irritation.
Assistant Coach Philis stood behind him, looking at the scattered paper and tactics board, sighing deeply.
The atmosphere in the office was extrely oppressive.
"The ten-year plan, gone just like that."
Philis couldn’t help but speak up, still feeling so regret as the situation continued to fernt. Arsenal was losing out in the negotiations with Barça and Fabregas. "Looking ahead, I can’t see the end. What should we do?"
"Captain him for the new season, make one last attempt."
Wenger turned around, looking at the ten-year plan overview he had torn up not long ago, feeling his heart bleed. "If there’s no way, then..."
He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence, taking a few steps before chest pain and stomach nausea struck simultaneously, nearly leaving him dizzy.
This ten-year plan contained his expectations for Arsenal’s future, all of his hopes!
It included proposals for economy, team building, honors, and more, each detailed and sothing he had been working towards.
The key figure of the plan was Fabregas.
With his exit, all would turn to illusions, vanish like smoke.
"Mr. Wenger!"
Philis went over to support him, gritting his teeth, and said, "Find another Fabregas!"
"No more talking about him."
Wenger sat at the tea table by the window, waving his hand with the cigarette, "Let’s discuss other matters."
Philis thought for a mont, walked over to Wenger’s desk, and plugged in his USB, retrieving so data. "I have a monthly report on loaned players here that you should see."
He quickly clicked to print, and once the printer beside him stopped, he gathered the papers and handed them to Mr. Wenger.
His right hand didn’t stop.
He quickly copied the ’ten-year plan overview’ left prominently on the desk into his own USB for safekeeping.
It wasn’t really a secret.
But the most detailed copy was with Mr. Wenger, containing many of his personal notes and insights.
He wanted to preserve it as a source of hope for the club.
Just in case... Just in case the team still needed the plan, even if just for one, two, or three years.
"From Jorson: Ma’el and Gilbert are progressing rapidly, especially the forr, who has already shown the level to stand in the Championship.
"He has gained favor from Garrispeed, who is soon to take over as Sheffield United’s head coach, and might imdiately get an opportunity once he takes charge."
Wenger watched for a while and read out a part that intrigued him, then looked to Philis, "Do you think these two are promising?"
"They were decided by Mr. Wenger at the ti."
Philis forced a smile, feeling ashad, "I haven’t seen them play, not familiar."
"There should be many idle scouts on the team."
After flipping through the rest of the report, Wenger placed it on the desk and made arrangents: "The new season is about to begin. You help find soone.
"Have them rush to Sheffield to watch live whenever Ma’el and Gilbert are listed in the match squad, and provide with a detailed report."
"Doing this..."
Philis chid in, "Wouldn’t this be a bit too special?"
Wenger looked deeply at him, tired and helplessness crossing the corners of his eyes, but he held back his temper.
......
Sheffield City, Cherry Street.
Days full of hardship and joy continue.
Ma’el hasn’t stopped his footsteps; his world consists only of sweat during training and relaxation during leisure, as ti flows by like water.
On August 8th, Sheffield United welcod the Championship League’s opening match of the season.
Holding the ho ground, they faced Queens Park Rangers, who had strengthened across all lines this season and aid for the championship!
At six o’clock that evening, after completing extra practice, Ma’el and Gilbert returned ho, turned on the TV, and tuned in to the Championship broadcast channel.
"I still don’t understand."
Gilbert had been complaining all the way, "Why weren’t you selected for the main list? Coach Kevin always praises you, there’s admiration in his eyes. Why didn’t he even give you a substitute chance?
"Honestly, Ma’el, even a fool can see that a few Championship drills for you and you’d beat out the starting left winger, Mark Yates."
Ma’el seed unfazed, not delving into the question, "Watch the ga. We’re very close to Bramall Lane, might even hear the fans cheering."
It’s not that he didn’t want to be in the main list, but today, he had sothing else worth celebrating—his crossing skill had gotten to Level 3!
[Skill: Precise Arc Level 3]
[Skill Level: (1/800)]
[Utility: The accumulation of extensive practice has allowed your crossing to reach the level of a professional team’s crosser, with a slight adjustnt on the sidelines to create beautiful arcs that create aerial threats!]
It was his second Level 3 skill, once again elevating his comprehensive ability!
To let sothing unchangeable affect his mood, to frustrate his motivation to keep striving, was simply unnecessary.
"Oh...Yeah...!!"
Before long, faint yet thunderous cheers suddenly ca from outside the room, sounding small yet shaking the earth.
Gilbert imdiately got up and ran to the window, opened it to listen closely.
There was a delay in the TV broadcast, they didn’t yet know which team scored.
"It’s Queens Park Rangers."
Ma’el made a judgnt, Bramall Lane has a capacity of thirty thousand, with more than twenty thousand ho fans attending each match.
If they were all roaring in sync, the sound should be much louder.
Soon, a scene appeared on the TV showing the goal, a backfield mistake by Sheffield United, gifting the opposing center-forward a one-on-one chance, which the opponent promptly seized.
"Oh...!"
Not long after, the familiar sound ca again.
This ti Gilbert could hear it too, likely Queens Park Rangers scored again.
He started pacing the room anxiously, worried the team might face a crushing defeat.
The feeling of watching the group you’re part of being swallowed by disgrace step by step was uncomfortable.
No one enjoys seeing their team lose, especially when you’re powerless, or capable but unable to act.
"Yeah...!!" When that tiny yet grand voice ca again, the two couldn’t stay put.
It all seed to unfold right before them; their already familiar teammates battling in the arena, but they remained re spectators.
The anxiety gradually seeped into Ma’el’s heart.
There was urgency for the team’s situation, and also anxiety for his own future.
Human desires keep growing, especially after leaving the Arsenal Youth Team.
They saw a broader world, arrived at a higher-level place, received higher salaries.
No one wants to stand still anymore, especially as they gradually feel they can do sothing.
"Let’s go for a walk."
Ma’el grabbed his earphones, called out to Gilbert, then opened the door and headed outside.
Gilbert soon got his earphones and followed behind him.
After going downstairs and walking for a while, just as they took off their headphones to relieve ear heat, they coincidentally heard yet another familiar cheer.
No need to look, the team was four to zero behind!
Soon after, they saw many fans wearing Sheffield United’s red and white striped jerseys taking to the streets, seemingly leaving early.
They either tossed away hats with team logos, or discarded scarves, then shouted curses, heading to the bar for so bitter drinks.
Their hearts were heavy; this night, Sheffield United’s real strength was exposed to the public.
Their fig leaf was coldly torn by Queens Park Rangers, shattered upon touch.
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