"Ah!" Van Persie caught up with the fastest speed, leaped onto Ma’el’s back, and tackled him to the ground at the sideline.
"Vamos.....!"
"Co on....!"
On the other side, Walcott, Arteta, and others quickly rushed over. At that mont, everyone seed to have forgotten what to say, just shouting and celebrating wildly, rging with the fans on the field.
On the sidelines, Wenger, who was originally sitting peacefully on the bench chatting with Philip, suddenly widened his eyes when he saw the football hit the net.
"Hoho oh....!"
Imdiately, he was the first to rush out of the coach’s seat with both arms raised, his voice trembling with a few shocking and sowhat fearful screams.
He had planned to give up on this match, and in the end, upon realizing there was a chance, he sent soone out to give it a go.
It reached the 89th minute, and he thought the match would end smoothly, but then Ma’el’s powerful shot secured the win!
How could he describe this scene?
Indescribable, only to be felt.
"Haha!"
Philip reacted sowhat normally and began calculating points, "12 points! Even if we let go of the last two gas, it’s highly likely we’ll advance as group winners!"
...
On the field, when Marseille Team’s players saw the ball hit the net, Arsenal’s players ran to the sideline to celebrate.
They were imdiately plunged into a deep sense of disappointnt, so even felt a bit nauseous, keeping their mouths shut without a word.
"Hey!"
Valbuena, feeling montarily upset, rembered that the referee had blocked his way forward, ran to the referee, and said, "You blocked my defensive path, you gave the attacking side an advantageous opportunity!"
His shout made several Marseille players realize and quickly surround the referee.
"Pighead!"
On the sidelines, Deschamps also spread his hands towards the referee, even cursing.
The main referee was imdiately sweating, holding a whistle in one hand and scratching his head with the other, standing there at a loss.
The goal couldn’t be disallowed now. On one hand, he might not have blocked the defensive player; on the other hand, there was a controversial penalty against Arsenal earlier.
More importantly, such a beautiful last-minute goal, encompassing so many elents, would certainly beco a classic goal in this Champions League.
Arsenal’s players had been celebrating for so long, if he disallowed it, he would definitely be nailed to the column of sha for life, repeatedly criticized by the fans.
"Beep!"
He then blew the whistle softly, ran towards the sideline to Deschamps, and pulled out a red card, trying to quell the dispute by penalizing the opponent’s head coach, "Red card, leave the field, please go to the stands!"
"Pig!" Deschamps gritted his teeth and cursed at him one last ti before heading up the stands of the Emirates Stadium.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t celebrate with the majesty of Wenger; in his rage, Deschamps’s face turned red and he couldn’t calm down for a long ti.
"Beep! Beep! Beep——!"
Soon after, as the match ended, a heart-wrenching pain swept over him again, just one goal short..... another loss of points.
"Ma’el."
He looked at the figure in the field clapping to thank the fans, the longing in his eyes reaching the extre, mixed with his disappointnt in his team, creating a stark contrast.
He couldn’t just admire this player anymore; he was now in an infatuated love, a fervent pursuit.
Many tis, coaches are like this: if you let him directly coach a player, his feelings won’t be that strong.
But if you let him be repeatedly outplayed by a player as an opponent, he will definitely have extrely strong feelings and emotions.
Back in the player tunnel, Deschamps dialed a phone number, "Did you watch the ga? I knew you would..... I want this month’s appointnt, before the next national team match day.
"Marseille’s side, naturally you guys will negotiate, do I have to do it myself?
"I have only one request, I need absolute power, I need everything in this team to listen to , and also want to streamline the national team coaching staff, reducing it to about 15 people."
The other side paused for a long ti and replied: "15 people..... have you considered that this ans you’ll be giving up key positions in modern football like technical analysts and data analysts."
Deschamps gave a faint smile, "I only trust my eyes, only value my feelings."
...
In the post-match press conference, Wenger and Van Persie sat here, answering questions from the reporters.
When asked how to get along with Ma’el harmoniously, Van Persie thought for a long ti before answering, "Generally, football is a sport with patterns, how a team faces its opponents, how many chances it could create in a match, there is a certain range.
"Like 5-10, 10-15 and so on, the deviation is not very large, specifically fluctuating depending on the players’ condition.
"Nowadays, players on the forward line must share the chances, whoever is often in the key positions can get more of these good chances, completing goals and assists.
"Many players without position competition have poor relations off the field, and actually, it still cos down to how the ball possession is distributed on the field."
He looked up and smiled sincerely, "But we and Ma’el seem to not have similar issues, what he takes from the team’s attacking line, he can to a certain extent make up for with his personal ability.
"Sotis, he’ll give you even better chances.... only those who know him well know how amazing he is."
Wenger nodded slightly at Van Persie’s speech, very satisfied. Of course, this included a sense of modesty, but also clearly stated that they wouldn’t have disputes with Ma’el over these outbreaks.
Noticing that the reporters seed a bit bewildered by Van Persie’s long response, he jokingly leaned towards Van Persie’s microphone, "I must say I’m very gratified."
"Haha...." Laughter filled the scene, restoring a light-hearted atmosphere to the interview.
Until the end, when soone asked about Nasri and Fabregas, the atmosphere gradually beca heavy again.
"I must say."
At this point, Van Persie hurriedly pledged his loyalty, "If there’s anyone who’s still loyal to Arsenal, then it can only be ."
....
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