The King Of Arsenal

If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!

Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12

___________________________

The referee blew his whistle, signaling the start of the game. The players took their positions, and as Francesco stood alone at the tip of Arsenal's formation, he felt a rush of adrenaline. This was his moment, and he was ready to seize it.

The match began with an electric energy pulsing through the Amex Stadium. Arsenal, clad in their iconic red-and-white kits, pressed forward with intent from the opening whistle. Brighton & Hove Albion, determined to frustrate the visitors, lined up compactly, their blue-and-white stripes a wall of resistance. Yet, Arsenal's sharpness was evident immediately, the crispness of their passing setting the tone.

Barely two minutes into the game, Arsenal made their first significant move. Calum Chambers, stationed on the right flank, received a diagonal ball from Ramsey. He controlled it effortlessly, scanning the pitch before driving forward with purpose. Brighton's defense scrambled to adjust, but Chambers exploited the hesitation, surging past his marker and delivering a pinpoint cross into the box.

The ball's trajectory was perfect—curling away from Brighton's defenders yet invitingly into the path of Theo Walcott. The winger, lurking near the penalty spot, anticipated the delivery with precision. Timing his run to perfection, he adjusted his body and struck the ball cleanly with his right foot. The shot was low and fast, skimming over the turf like a stone skipping across water.

David Stockdale, Brighton's goalkeeper, reacted late, the pace of the shot catching him off guard. He dived desperately to his left, but the ball whistled past him, crashing into the back of the net with a satisfying thud. For a moment, the Amex fell silent, save for the jubilant roar of the traveling Arsenal supporters.

Walcott, grinning broadly, sprinted toward the corner flag, his arms outstretched in celebration. His teammates swarmed him, Francesco among the first to reach him. "That's how you start a game!" Francesco shouted, clapping Walcott on the back.

Wenger, watching from the touchline, allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile. The early goal was exactly what he had hoped for—an indication that Arsenal's attacking intent was sharp and Brighton's resistance would be tested from the outset.

Brighton restarted the game, visibly rattled by the early setback. Their strategy of sitting deep and absorbing pressure had been breached almost immediately, forcing them to reevaluate. Arsenal, emboldened by their lead, pressed high, with Flamini orchestrating the midfield and breaking up Brighton's attempts to build from the back.

Francesco, operating as the lone striker, was relentless in his movement. He darted between Brighton's center-backs, forcing them into uncomfortable positions. His presence created space for Özil and Ramsey to drift into, their interplay adding another layer of complexity to Arsenal's attack.

At the 7th minute, Brighton managed a response. Inigo Calderin, their lively winger, danced past Gibbs on the right flank, cutting inside to deliver a dangerous cross into Arsenal's penalty area. The ball hung in the air ominously, but Koscielny rose to meet it with authority, heading it clear before any Brighton attacker could capitalize.

The clearance found its way to Rosicky, who, with a deft touch, turned past his marker and initiated another Arsenal counter. He threaded a through ball to Francesco, who raced toward goal, only to be met by a well-timed sliding tackle from Lewis Dunk. The Brighton defender's intervention drew applause from the home crowd, a reminder that the Seagulls weren't out of the contest yet.

The Gunners, however, remained in control. Özil's subtle flicks and turns bewildered Brighton's midfield, while Walcott's pace down the right continued to stretch the defense. In the 9th minute, Arsenal nearly doubled their lead. Ramsey, collecting a loose ball just outside the box, unleashed a curling shot aimed at the top corner. Stockdale, this time alert, leaped acrobatically to tip the ball over the bar, denying what would have been a stunning goal.

From the resulting corner, Chambers once again proved a threat. His whipped delivery found Koscielny rising above Brighton's defenders, but the Frenchman's header sailed narrowly over the crossbar.

Brighton's efforts to equalize were sporadic but dangerous. At the 12th minute, they earned a free kick in a promising position after Flamini was judged to have fouled Sam Baldock. The resulting set-piece, taken by Inigo Calderon, was swung into the box with venom. For a moment, it looked as though Dunk might connect, but Szczęsny, commanding his area, punched the ball clear with authority.

As the game, Francesco began to assert himself more prominently. His link-up play with Walcott and Özil became increasingly fluid, drawing Brighton's defenders out of position. In the 15th minute, he nearly added his name to the scoresheet. After receiving a clever backheel from Özil, Francesco turned sharply inside the box and fired a low shot toward the far post. Stockdale, diving full stretch, managed to get a fingertip to it, deflecting the ball just wide.

Despite the near miss, Francesco's confidence was evident. He gestured to the crowd, urging the Arsenal supporters to raise their voices, feeding off their energy. Wenger, observing from the sidelines, nodded approvingly. The young striker's work rate and hunger were exactly what the team needed.

To their credit, Brighton refused to fold. They adjusted their shape, pushing March and Teixeira further forward in an attempt to unsettle Arsenal's backline. In the 18th minute, they created their best chance of the half. A quick interchange of passes between Kayal and Teixeira opened up space on the edge of the box. Teixeira unleashed a powerful shot that seemed destined for the bottom corner, but Szczęsny, diving low to his right, pulled off a superb save to preserve Arsenal's lead.

The save drew a roar of approval from the away fans and a fist pump from Szczęsny himself. "Stay sharp!" he barked at his defenders, ensuring they remained focused.

As the 20th minute mark approached, Arsenal's fluidity began to overwhelm Brighton. Flamini, shielding the defense with precision, allowed Ramsey and Rosicky the freedom to roam. Walcott and Özil continued to exploit the flanks, while Francesco's relentless pressing ensured Brighton had little time on the ball.

In the 19th minute, Arsenal came agonizingly close to a second goal. A flowing move involving Rosicky, Ramsey, and Özil carved Brighton's defense open. Özil's final pass found Walcott in space inside the box, but his shot, struck with power, rattled the crossbar and bounced clear.

The near miss seemed to galvanize Arsenal further. Wenger's men continued to press, their passing crisp and incisive. Francesco, at the heart of the attack, orchestrated several dangerous moves, his understanding with Özil and Walcott growing with each passing minute.

The Amex Stadium buzzed with tension as Brighton struggled to withstand Arsenal's relentless pressure. The visitors, emboldened by their early lead, moved the ball with precision and purpose, their interplay cutting through Brighton's lines like a hot knife through butter. Every Arsenal pass seemed to carry intent, and the Gunners looked increasingly likely to extend their lead.

In the 22nd minute, Arsenal's dominance paid off spectacularly. The move began with Tomas Rosicky, stationed just inside Brighton's half. The Czech midfielder, known for his intelligent movement and deft touches, received the ball from Flamini under pressure. With a quick turn, he shrugged off his marker and surged forward, head up, scanning for options.

Rosicky's instincts were razor-sharp. Spotting Mesut Özil drifting into space on the left, he threaded a perfectly weighted pass between two Brighton defenders. The ball rolled smoothly across the pristine turf, bypassing the desperate outstretched leg of Lewis Dunk. Özil, as calm as ever, let the ball run slightly ahead of him before taking a delicate touch to set himself up.

Brighton's defenders scrambled to close him down, but Özil's composure was unshakeable. He adjusted his body, angling himself toward the goal as Stockdale rushed off his line in an attempt to narrow the angle. With his weaker left foot, Özil struck the ball cleanly. It wasn't a thunderous shot—it didn't need to be. The placement was perfect, curling low and just out of Stockdale's reach.

The ball kissed the inside of the far post before nestling in the back of the net. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then, the stadium erupted. The Arsenal fans, packed into the away end, exploded into jubilant celebration, their cheers drowning out the murmurs of disappointment from the Brighton faithful.

Özil turned and raised his arms, a faint smile on his face as his teammates rushed to congratulate him. Rosicky was the first to reach him, grinning as he wrapped an arm around the German playmaker. "That's how it's done, Mesut!" Rosicky shouted, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Francesco joined the celebration, clapping Özil on the back. "Perfect finish," he said, his admiration genuine. "You made it look easy."

Wenger, watching from the touchline, applauded enthusiastically. The second goal was a testament to Arsenal's patience and precision, qualities he had worked tirelessly to instill in his squad. The Frenchman allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, knowing his team had put themselves in a commanding position.

Brighton's players, meanwhile, looked deflated. Stockdale knelt on the ground, pounding the turf in frustration. Dunk and Greer exchanged exasperated glances, their earlier resilience now appearing fragile. The Seagulls had hoped to frustrate Arsenal and hit them on the counter, but their game plan was unraveling.

As the game restarted, Brighton attempted to rally, pushing higher up the pitch in search of a response. Their midfield, led by Danny Holla and Jake Forster-Caskey, worked tirelessly to regain control, but Arsenal's dominance was undeniable. Flamini and Ramsey dictated the tempo, while Özil and Rosicky orchestrated the attack with near-telepathic understanding.

Francesco, too, played a pivotal role. His movement off the ball continued to trouble Brighton's backline, creating pockets of space for his teammates to exploit. In the 25th minute, he nearly added his name to the scoresheet. Collecting a through ball from Ramsey, Francesco turned sharply inside the box, only for his shot to be blocked at the last moment by a sliding challenge from Dunk.

Brighton managed a brief spell of possession around the 28th minute, earning a corner after Chris O'Grady speculative effort deflected off Gibbs. The delivery, swung in by Calderon, was dangerous, but Koscielny rose highest once again to clear the danger. The French defender, a towering presence at the back, had been imperious all afternoon.

As the half-hour mark approached, Arsenal showed no signs of slowing down. Walcott, full of energy, continued to torment Brighton's left flank, while Chambers provided constant support on the overlap. On the opposite side, Gibbs and Özil combined effectively, pinning Brighton deep in their own half.

In the 33rd minute, Arsenal nearly made it 3-0. Another flowing move saw Rosicky and Ramsey exchange quick passes before the ball found its way to Francesco. The young striker, positioned just outside the box, unleashed a powerful shot aimed at the top corner. Stockdale, however, was equal to it, diving acrobatically to tip the ball over the bar.

The resulting corner, taken by Özil, caused chaos in Brighton's penalty area. Koscielny rose to meet it, his towering header crashing against the crossbar before being cleared to safety. Brighton, hanging on by a thread, were fortunate not to concede a third.

The game continued with Arsenal in full control, their fluidity and confidence a joy to watch. Rosicky, Özil, and Ramsey pulled the strings in midfield, while Francesco's relentless pressing ensured Brighton had little time to build from the back. Wenger's men looked every bit the polished, professional outfit he had envisioned.

As the first half wore on, Arsenal's dominance began to wear Brighton down. The Seagulls, though resilient, struggled to cope with the visitors' intensity and precision. By the time the referee signaled for halftime, the scoreline read Brighton 0-2 Arsenal—a fair reflection of the Gunners' superiority.

The Arsenal players filed into the Amex Stadium locker room, the cool air offering temporary relief from the intensity of the first half. The atmosphere was buoyant yet focused, each player aware they had executed Wenger's plan to near perfection but knowing the job was only halfway done.

As they entered, they saw Arsène Wenger already waiting, leaning casually against the whiteboard, his arms crossed. His calm demeanor contrasted with the evident energy buzzing among the players. The manager's sharp eyes scanned his team as they settled into their spots, some reaching for water bottles, others pulling off their jerseys to cool down.

"Good work out there," Wenger began, his voice firm but measured, immediately commanding attention. "We've controlled the game, kept the ball moving, and forced Brighton to chase shadows. But," he paused, straightening up, "the second half will be a different battle."

The players quieted further, hanging on his every word.

"Brighton know they've got nothing to lose now. They'll come at us with everything they have. Their midfield will press harder, their forwards will take more risks, and their defense will push higher up the pitch. We need to be ready for that."

Wenger gestured toward the whiteboard, where a basic tactical diagram showed Brighton's likely second-half setup. "They'll try to flood our box with crosses and long balls, and they'll throw their full-backs forward to overload the wings. Our job," he underlined the defensive third of Arsenal's half with his marker, "is to stay compact, organized, and disciplined. Play defensively, but not passively."

He turned toward Flamini, his voice steady but insistent. "Flamini, hold the line in front of the defense. Cut out their passing lanes. Win the second balls. No unnecessary risks."

The midfielder nodded, already visualizing his tasks.

Then Wenger looked at Ramsey and Rosicky. "When we have the ball, don't rush. Keep it simple. Keep the game in front of you. Force Brighton to overcommit and leave gaps we can exploit on the counter."

Rosicky raised a hand, a grin spreading across his face. "So, basically, frustrate them until they lose their heads?"

Wenger allowed himself a rare smile. "Exactly, Tomas. But no complacency. One mistake, and the momentum shifts."

Finally, Wenger turned his attention to Francesco, Walcott, and Özil. "Francesco, Theo, stay alert for counters. You'll have space behind their defense if they push too far forward. Özil," he pointed to the Welshman, "support the attack when needed, but don't forget your defensive duties. We'll need your energy to cover ground."

Francesco leaned forward, his face serious. "And if they overload the wings?"

Wenger nodded, appreciating the question. "Help your full-backs. Track back, double up if needed, and force them to go inside where we're stronger."

The manager took a step back, surveying his players. "This game is ours to lose now. Stay sharp, stay disciplined, and trust each other. We've done the hard part; now we finish it."

The players responded with a chorus of agreement, their resolve visible in their expressions. They knew the next 45 minutes would be a test of their character and endurance. But they also knew that Wenger's plan, if executed correctly, would see them leave Brighton with the three points.

Before they returned to the pitch, Wenger clapped his hands once. "And remember—no unnecessary fouls near the box. Let's not give them easy chances."

As the players stood to head back out, Rosicky clapped Francesco on the shoulder. "Looks like we're parking the bus for a bit," he joked, grinning. "But with you and Theo up front, we'll break out soon enough."

Francesco nodded, his mind already in the game. "We just have to stay patient. If they leave even a sliver of space, we'll punish them."

The team emerged from the tunnel as the Brighton fans roared, their hope of a comeback palpable in the air. Arsenal's traveling supporters responded in kind, their chants echoing through the stadium, a reminder of the stakes.

As the referee blew his whistle to start the second half, Brighton came out swinging, their intent clear from the first touch. Wenger's words echoed in the players' minds: stay compact, stay disciplined. The battle was far from over, but Arsenal were ready.

________________________________________________

Name : Francesco Lee

Age : 16 (2014)

Birthplace : London, England

Football Club : Arsenal First Team

Championship History : None

Match Played: 3

Goal: 14

Assist: 4

MOTM: 4