The ga settled again once the celebrations cald down, though it took a while for the noise to truly fade.
When the broadcast regained its rhythm, the comntators were still shaking their heads.
"What a show he’s put on," one of them said as the replay of the free kick ran once more.
"Both goals tonight could win goal of the season on their own. One from open play that looked impossible, and now this free kick that doesn’t even give the keeper a chance."
His partner gave a small laugh.
"You almost forget it’s pre-season. He’s playing like it’s a cup final and the crowd certainly thinks so."
They didn’t exaggerate.
The fans were still talking to one another.
A man near the front row leaned over to his friend.
"We’ve all played ball before, but you saw the curve on that thing? How do you even hit a ball like that?"
His friend shrugged with the helpless smile of soone who didn’t have an answer before nodding towards Izan.
"That’s why he’s getting paid for it and we aren’t"
Play resud with Milan trying to steady themselves.
They put together a run of possession, moving the ball from left to right while the Arsenal players kept their shape.
Loftus-Cheek tried to break through with a strong drive forward, pushing past one challenge, but Rice stepped in and stopped him cold, nudging the ball toward Zubindi before guiding everyone backwards.
Milan ca again a mont later as Pulisic slipped inside from the right and threaded a clever pass toward Leao, who burst between Calafiori and Saliba.
The move drew a brief gasp from the AC Milan crowd, but Raya sprinted out quickly and smothered the danger, stretching low to scoop the ball before Leao could reach it.
"Better from Milan," the comntator noted. "They’re trying to take so control here."
But Arsenal answered, with Izan, who kept finding spaces even when the Milan players thought they had closed them off.
On a similar occasion, he found the ball which Zinchenko had rolled towards him, and as soon as it reached his feet, he turned and glided forward.
Samuele Ricci tried to close him down, but Izan shifted the ball to his left, then imdiately to his right, leaving the midfielder stumbling as the crowd shouted in approval.
He upped the ante, bursting with another level of speed, forcing the AC Milan players to react to him, and just as they did, he lofted a ball over their back line.
It reached Havertz perfectly, but the latter’s one-ti effort was way off because he had gone through it instead of waiting for it to settle.
Even so, it lifted the energy in the stands again.
Milan tried another spell of pressure.
Bartasaghi lifted a long pass into the box, looking for Leao, but Saliba rose above him and headed it clear.
The ball dropped to Zubindi again, who settled it and played it forward with one touch.
This ti, it was Saka on the receiving end.
He let the ball roll across his body and then flicked it forward towards Izan, who slipped between two Milan players, in the centre of the pitch.
The crowd roared as if he had scored again as Izan kept going until Ricci clipped his ankle from behind.
Izan went down with a short grunt, nothing exaggerated, but enough to draw a sharp chorus of boos from the Arsenal supporters this ti.
Izan stood up quickly, intending to restart the ball quickly, but the referee made them reset after his pass reached Saka on the right.
"Milan can’t deal with him. Simple as that," the comntary continued.
"They stop one run, he starts another. They press him, and he slips past. They sag off, he picks a pass no one else sees."
The referee waved play on after a short delay, and the half wound toward its close.
Milan pushed once more, but their final passes kept failing, either intercepted or nudged away at the last second.
Arsenal, calm and steady, eased the tempo whenever they had the ball and when the whistle for halfti finally echoed across the stadium, the crowd rose with a mix of applause and excited chatter.
Supporters leaned toward each other, exchanging quick thoughts.
"He’s playing like it’s his last," a woman said aloud, not even sure who she was talking to, but knowing every Arsenal fan nearby felt the sa.
The players walked off the pitch while the comntators sumd up the first forty-five minutes.
"Two goals, both spectacular. Arsenal in control. Milan with monts but not enough. And the Singaporean crowd treated to a performance from Izan, they won’t forget anyti soon."
The noise followed the players down the tunnel.
The half had ended, but the energy in the stadium kept simring.
....
The VIP section was quieter now that the players had disappeared down the tunnel.
The crowd’s noise drifted upward in waves, but most of the seats around them had already emptied.
Toji leaned back slightly and turned toward the girl beside him.
"Arsenal were going to co to Japan anyway," he said.
Aiko didn’t answer at first.
She kept her eyes on the pitch, watching the last bits of activity as the staff rolled equipnt off the grass.
Only after a mont did she turn to him.
"I’m on midterm break. I had the ti, so I ca."
Toji rolled his eyes.
"You didn’t need to fly in from Spain for that."
She shrugged like she’d already prepared for that line.
"You know," Toji continued, "you could’ve studied anywhere. But no, you picked Spain. All because of a player. A fifteen-year-old boy who moved to the UK after one year there."
Aiko gave him a look.
"You make it sound like I’m so lovestruck dumb girl."
"It’s not that far off," he muttered.
She glared at him, and Toji quickly cleared his throat and changed direction.
"Besides, you didn’t even co straight to Japan."
Aiko’s expression softened as the stadium screens replayed Izan’s goals. She watched them with a small smile.
"I know he’s a player and I’m just a fan," she said. "I’d just like to talk to him. That’s all. Last ti was just nice and all"
Toji sighed.
"Last ti I checked, he has a girl."
Aiko nodded without hesitation.
"I know. And she’s really beautiful."
She nudged him on the back.
"What, soone can’t admire another person without everyone turning it into so grand feeling?"
Toji leaned away a little, half amused and half wary.
"Admiration is still a feeling," he muttered, his mouth tightening into a pout.
Aiko let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. It is."
The replay on the big screen cut to another angle of Izan’s finish, and the two of them fell quiet for a mont before Toji nudged her.
But as he looked at Aiko, whatever worry he had in his heart dissipated, before he shook his head.
"Nothing," he said as Aiko returned her attention towards the pitch.
Close to a quarter of an hour later, Izan stood near the front of the tunnel, rolling his shoulders once before leaning to pull his socks a bit down.
Around him, little snippets of conversation flowed, but all he got were stares.
As he got back up, Nwaneri ca jogging past on his way to the bench, then slowed as he drew level with him.
He leaned in just enough for Izan to hear.
"I’m coming on soon," he said, moving his hands in an exaggerated gesture like he was shooing soone off a stage.
"So enjoy yourself while you’ve got the ti."
Izan smirked.
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you."
Nwaneri chuckled a bit before walking off, leaving Izan, who turned back toward the mouth of the tunnel, the bright light pouring in from the stadium almost washing out the view ahead.
Behind him, he could feel eyes resting on him from the opposing team.
Mainly out of curiosity or for asure, like seeing sothing or soone people had talked about for a long ti, and when you see it, it surpasses your expectations.
A mont later, the referee stepped out next with his assistants following.
He gave a short signal for the players to move, and the tunnel imdiately dissolved into the usual ss.
Shirts brushed, boots knocked together, and both teams mixed as they filed out toward the pitch in no real order.
The noise of the stadium grew clearer with every step, and the night opened up in front of them again as the roar of the never-tiring crowd washed over them.
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