If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to spatreon/Tang12
___________________________
As the players rehydrated and stretched, the atmosphere in the dressing room was focused. They were halfway to an FA Cup final, that made them had to see it through and avoid defeat.
As the second half kicked off, the tension in Wembley was palpable. Arsenal had the lead, but Reading had shown before the break that they were far from beaten. The ga was finely poised, and both teams ca out of the dressing room with a renewed sense of urgency.
Arsenal started aggressively, pushing forward in search of a second goal to establish control. Just two minutes in, Francesco, who had been lively down the right flank, made a surging run before playing a neat one-two with Özil. The German playmaker, with his signature finesse, slipped a perfectly weighted ball into the path of Alexis Sánchez. The Chilean took one touch before rifling a shot toward the near post.
Federici, who had already been Reading's savior multiple tis, reacted sharply. He dived low to his right, his fingertips just about managing to divert the shot wide. Another crucial save, another groan of frustration from the Arsenal fans.
But Reading was not content to sit back. Just a minute later, they carved out a golden opportunity of their own. Robson-Kanu found space down the left and whipped in a dangerous cross. Pogrebnyak, using his physicality, outmuscled Koscielny to et the ball with a towering header.
It looked destined for the top corner.
Szczesny, however, was equal to it. The Arsenal goalkeeper leaped high, stretching every inch of his fra to get a hand to the ball and tip it over the bar. Another incredible save, keeping Arsenal's lead intact for now.
The ga was opening up, both teams sensing that the next goal would be crucial. Arsenal looked to control possession, while Reading pressed high, determined to force mistakes.
Then, in the 54th minute, disaster struck for Arsenal.
Reading had been growing in confidence, and when they won possession high up the pitch, they pounced. Pogrebnyak received the ball just outside the Arsenal box, with Monreal and Koscielny closing in. The Russian striker seed to hesitate, waiting for support.
That mont of hesitation led to miscommunication between the Arsenal defenders.
Koscielny stepped up, seemingly expecting Monreal to track Pogrebnyak's movent. Monreal, on the other hand, hesitated, unsure whether to press or drop back. That split-second of indecision proved costly.
Pogrebnyak exploited the space, threading a delicate pass into the path of Garath McCleary, who had ghosted in behind the defense. The winger barely had to break stride before striking the ball first-ti with his right foot.
The shot took a slight deflection off Monreal, sending it spinning toward the far post.
Szczesny, already shifting his weight, tried to readjust, but it was too late. The ball nestled into the back of the net.
1-1.
The Reading fans erupted, their section of Wembley exploding in celebration. Their players sward McCleary, who wheeled away in jubilation. It was a deserved equalizer, a reward to their persistence.
On the other side, Arsenal was stunned.
Koscielny and Monreal exchanged frustrated glances, both realizing their error. Szczesny, clearly frustrated, slamd his gloves together, yelling toward his defenders. They had allowed Reading back into the ga.
Francesco took a deep breath, jogging back toward the center circle. He could feel the shift in montum. Arsenal needed to regain control, and fast.
Reading's equalizer had completely changed the ga. The roar of their fans echoed around Wembley, their players energized by the mont. They had been battling hard all ga, and now, with the score level, they could sense Arsenal was vulnerable.
On the other hand, Arsenal looked rattled. The miscommunication between Koscielny and Monreal had been costly, and it had clearly affected the team's confidence. Players who had been sharp and aggressive in the first half now seed hesitant, their passes less crisp, their movents less decisive.
Arsène Wenger could see it unfolding before his eyes. His players, instead of reacting with determination, were slipping into a passive state. It was exactly what he had feared. Reading, fueled by their montum, were growing bolder with each passing minute.
Steve Clarke, Reading's manager, recognized the shift as well. He slled blood. Instead of settling back after scoring, he urged his team forward. His shouts from the touchline were clear—press higher, attack with more numbers, put Arsenal under even more pressure.
For the next ten minutes, it was all Reading.
Arsenal on the Back Foot
Reading poured forward relentlessly. They weren't just sitting back and waiting for Arsenal to make mistakes; they were actively forcing them. Their full-backs pushed high, wingers darted into space, and midfielders pressed aggressively.
Arsenal, in response, found themselves dropping deeper and deeper. Every ti they won possession, they struggled to hold onto it for long. Reading's intensity was overwhelming.
In the 58th minute, McCleary, already full of confidence after his goal, cut inside from the right and unleashed a curling effort toward the far post. Szczesny reacted quickly, diving to his left and parrying the ball away.
A minute later, Robson-Kanu tried his luck from distance. It was a fierce strike, and though it was straight at Szczesny, the Polish goalkeeper had to react sharply, punching it clear as Pogrebnyak lurked for a rebound.
Arsenal's defense was in full survival mode.
Koscielny and rtesacker found themselves bombarded with crosses from both flanks. Monreal and Debuchy had no ti to push forward as they were constantly tracking back to deal with the overloads.
In the 62nd minute, Reading nearly found a second goal.
A deep free-kick was floated into the box, and Pogrebnyak, using his strength, shrugged off Koscielny to direct a powerful header toward goal. Szczesny, once again, ca to the rescue. He stretched his body to its full length, pushing the ball over the bar with his fingertips.
The resulting corner was just as dangerous. This ti, Chalobah t the delivery with a firm header. It was heading toward the bottom corner, but Francesco, tracking back, got just enough of a touch on it to divert it wide.
Wenger had seen enough. He stood on the edge of his technical area, frustration clear on his face. He could feel the ga slipping away. His team was being bullied, losing second balls, reacting rather than dictating.
He turned to his bench and shouted instructions. But more importantly, he turned to the players on the pitch.
"Co on! Get your heads up! Play our ga!" he barked.
Özil, and Cazorla, the creative core of the team, needed to take control. Arsenal was at its best when dictating play, and right now, they were letting Reading dictate it for them.
Francesco could hear the urgency in Wenger's voice. He could feel the pressure mounting. This wasn't just about surviving this spell of pressure—it was about regaining control. He exchanged a quick glance with Özil, then turned to Coquelin, who had been tirelessly breaking up play.
"Let's stop rushing. Let's take the sting out of this," Francesco muttered.
Coquelin nodded.
Francesco's words to Coquelin sparked sothing within the team. Arsenal had been under siege for the past ten minutes, but now, slowly but surely, they started to regain their rhythm.
It wasn't imdiate. Reading still pressed aggressively, still tried to force errors, but Arsenal's midfield was beginning to reassert itself. sut Özil and Santi Cazorla, two of the most technically gifted players on the pitch, started dictating the tempo with short, sharp passes.
Özil, in particular, was floating between the lines, finding space where none seed to exist. He would receive the ball, turn effortlessly, and pick out a teammate with precision. Cazorla, anwhile, used his low center of gravity to evade challenges, twisting and turning his way out of Reading's pressing traps.
The effect was noticeable. Reading's players, who had been pouring forward in numbers, were now finding themselves being pulled out of position. Their midfielders had been so focused on pressing high that they were leaving gaps in behind.
Francis Coquelin was crucial in this shift. He wasn't flashy, but his ability to win second balls and break up play allowed Arsenal to sustain their possession.
Wenger, watching from the touchline, nodded approvingly. This was more like it. Arsenal had weathered the storm, and now they were back in control.
With Reading pushing numbers forward, they were vulnerable to quick transitions. Arsenal sensed this and began looking for opportunities to break with speed.
Then ca the 67th minute.
It started with a simple interception. Coquelin, always alert, read a pass intended for Chalobah and lunged in to poke the ball away. It rolled toward Cazorla, who, with a deft touch, took it under control and imdiately looked forward.
He spotted Özil drifting into space near the center circle and slid the ball to him. Özil, already scanning the pitch before receiving it, saw the run of Alexis Sánchez and, with a mont of brilliance, sent a perfectly weighted long pass over the top.
The pass was subli. It curled through the air, bypassing Reading's midfield and landing just ahead of Sánchez on the left flank.
Chris Gunter, Reading's right-back, scrambled to close him down, but Sánchez was too quick. He cushioned the ball with his chest, let it bounce once, and then exploded forward.
The Chilean was relentless. Gunter was left trailing, and as Sánchez entered the penalty area, Alex Pearce ca rushing across to cover. The defender lunged in, trying to shoulder Sánchez off the ball.
But Sánchez, with his low center of gravity and strength, held his ground. He cut inside onto his favored right foot, leaving Pearce off-balance.
Now inside the box, with just Federici in front of him, Sánchez had a split second to make a decision. The angle was tight, and the goalkeeper was already rushing out to close him down.
But Sánchez was never one to hesitate.
With a quick shift of his feet, he unleashed a powerful shot toward the near post. Federici reacted, diving low to his right, but the strike was too precise, too venomous. The ball smashed into the back of the net.
2-1.
A Roar of Relief
The Arsenal end of Wembley erupted. Fans jumped to their feet, chanting Sánchez's na as he wheeled away in celebration, pumping his fists in the air.
Özil jogged over to congratulate him, a satisfied smile on his face. The pass had been perfect, but Sánchez had done the hard part—beating two defenders and finishing under pressure.
Wenger, on the touchline, let out a deep breath and clapped his hands. This was the response he had wanted. His team had looked shaky, had been under imnse pressure, but they had found a way to strike back.
On the other side, Steve Clarke shook his head in frustration. He had encouraged his players to push forward, to go for the win, but in doing so, they had left themselves exposed.
Reading's players gathered near the center circle, clearly disappointed. They had worked so hard to get back into the ga, only to fall behind again.
With the lead restored, Arsenal grew in confidence. They continued to dominate possession, frustrating Reading with intricate passing sequences.
Francesco, who had been relatively quiet during Reading's dominant spell, started to influence the ga more. He dropped deeper to collect the ball, using his dribbling ability to glide past opponents. His chemistry with Özil and Cazorla was evident—they exchanged quick passes, moving Reading's defense around, forcing them to chase shadows.
In the 72nd minute, Francesco nearly created another goal. After receiving a pass from Debuchy on the right, he nutgged his marker and surged toward the byline. Spotting Giroud making a run, he delivered a low cross into the box, but Pearce, desperate to make ands for his earlier mistake, slid in to clear the danger.
Arsenal, however, were now in full control. The montum had swung back in their favor.
Reading, to their credit, didn't give up. They continued to press when they could, but Arsenal's composure on the ball was draining their energy.
As the ga entered the final fifteen minutes, Wenger made his first substitution. He brought on Mathieu Flamini for Coquelin, adding fresh legs to the midfield.
Ramsey's presence added another layer to Arsenal's attack. His late runs into the box created problems for Reading's defense, and in the 78th minute, he nearly put the ga to bed.
Özil, once again the architect, found space and slipped a delicate pass through to Ramsey, who had tid his run perfectly. With just the keeper to beat, he went for placent rather than power, but Federici made a stunning reflex save to keep Reading alive.
The match had turned in Arsenal's favor. After Alexis Sánchez's second goal, the Gunners played with renewed confidence, dictating possession and keeping Reading at bay. Every ti a Reading player looked to press, Özil and Cazorla danced around them with quick one-twos, dragging them out of position.
Francesco, sensing the shift, beca more involved. He drifted between the lines, picking up the ball in dangerous areas, using his quick feet to escape challenges. His presence added another layer of unpredictability to Arsenal's attack.
Wenger, keen to keep the energy levels high, called for substitutions in the 80th minute. Danny Welbeck, who had worked tirelessly all match, was replaced by Olivier Giroud. The Frenchman's hold-up play would allow Arsenal to retain possession higher up the pitch. Alexis Sánchez, after an electrifying performance, made way for Theo Walcott, whose pace would be a nightmare for Reading's tired defenders.
As Giroud jogged onto the pitch, he exchanged a quick handshake with Francesco, who patted him on the back. "Hold the ball up for us," Francesco muttered. Giroud nodded, understanding his role imdiately.
Reading, to their credit, refused to back down. They continued to fight, pushing forward in search of an equalizer. In the 83rd minute, they won a free kick just outside the box after Koscielny brought down Pogrebnyak.
Jem Karacan that replace Chalobah stepped up to take it, his eyes scanning the crowded penalty area. He curled a dangerous ball toward the far post, looking for a teammate to connect. Pearce rose highest, nodding it back across goal, but Szczesny reacted quickly, leaping to punch it clear before Pogrebnyak could pounce.
Arsenal's counterattack was swift.
Özil, as always, was at the heart of it. He picked up the loose ball and imdiately switched play to Walcott on the right flank. With fresh legs, Walcott burst forward, his electric pace leaving his marker behind. He looked up and spotted Giroud making a run into the box.
The cross was perfect, whipped in with pace, but Giroud couldn't get a clean connection. The ball glanced off his head and fell kindly to Francesco at the edge of the box.
A chance.
Francesco shifted the ball onto his right foot, but before he could shoot, Karacan lunged in with a desperate tackle, deflecting the ball away.
The clock ticked toward the 89th minute. Reading's players, exhausted but determined, threw everything forward. Clarke had urged them to gamble, to push for a last-minute equalizer that would send the ga into extra ti.
But in doing so, they left themselves exposed.
Arsenal, now comfortable in possession, patiently waited for their mont to strike.
Cazorla, deep in midfield, received the ball and scanned the pitch. Reading's defense was stretched, their midfield failing to recover in ti. Francesco, lurking just inside the final third, saw the gap and made his move.
Cazorla didn't hesitate. He threaded a beautifully weighted pass through the heart of Reading's defense, splitting their center-backs. Francesco tid his run to perfection, ghosting past a flat-footed Gunter.
Now it was just him and Federici.
The goalkeeper rushed out, arms wide, trying to close the angle.
Francesco remained calm. He took one touch to steady himself, then, with the composure of a seasoned striker, chipped the ball over Federici's outstretched arms.
Ti seed to slow as the ball sailed toward goal. The Arsenal fans held their breath.
Then—
The net rippled.
A mont of silence, followed by an explosion of noise from the Arsenal end of Wembley.
Francesco turned away, a wide grin on his face as he sprinted toward the corner flag, arms outstretched. Giroud was the first to reach him, lifting him off the ground in celebration. Walcott, Özil, and Cazorla followed, all piling on as the team celebrated what they knew was the dagger in Reading's hopes.
The scoreboard flashed: Arsenal 3-1 Reading.
Wenger, for the first ti all ga, allowed himself a smile. He clapped his hands and turned to the bench, shaking the hands of his coaching staff. The job was almost done.
Reading's players looked shattered. They had fought with all their strenght, but this goal had broken their spirit. Clarke stood on the sideline, arms crossed, frustration evident on his face. He had pushed his team to go for it, but Arsenal's quality had proven too much.
The final few minutes were rely a formality. Arsenal played keep-ball, passing it around effortlessly as Reading chased shadows. Özil, still full of energy, toyed with defenders, pulling off flicks and turns to the delight of the Arsenal supporters.
When the referee finally blew the whistle, the Arsenal players raised their arms in triumph.
A hard-fought victory. A place in the FA Cup final secured.
Francesco, standing near the center circle, exhaled and looked toward the Arsenal fans. This was the kind of mont he had dread of when he put on the red and white.
As he made his way toward the tunnel, Wenger walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well played, Francesco. That was a big goal."
Francesco nodded, still catching his breath. "Thank you, boss."
The celebrations would continue in the dressing room, but for now, he soaked in the mont. Another step closer to silverware for him and the team.
________________________________________________
Na : Francesco Lee
Age : 16 (2014)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : None
Match Played: 27
Goal: 32
Assist: 12
MOTM: 8
User Comments
0 comments from readers