"Aahh!!"
Amidst the shouts of the Arsenal fans, Maël pointed towards Alexandre Song, who had passed him the ball, and stopped a few steps away from the net.
The continuous positional switches had exhausted his stamina, but fortunately, he scored another goal before the end of the match.
The 14th goal! Securing the victory for the team!
He was certain that these two goals would help the team win this important match, and Arsenal would have a perfect month!
This time, Maël imitated the celebration of Italian star Gilardino, pretending to play the violin elegantly by the net.
It was an acrobatic goal, one could even say an extremely elegant goal.
With Alexandre Song's pass being less than perfect, he used a scorpion kick to send the ball into the net!
"The benefits of training coordination."
He wore a satisfied smile. Excellent coordination had brought him so much, and he was very grateful that he hadn't underestimated this important ability back then, having trained it to lv4 in his early career.
He had thanked the him who immersed himself in the training ground, enduring loneliness and boredom, countless times.
He hoped he could continue to persevere, and in the future, he would thank the him of the present.
"Amazing!!"
Alexandre Song ran over excitedly, initially wanting to give Maël a big hug, but seeing Maël's elegant demeanor, he had the idea of imitating him poorly.
He imitated Maël's movements, kneeling on one knee on the sidelines and pretending to play the violin.
However, he couldn't pull off any elegance at all. On the contrary, it looked like he was carrying a rocket launcher on his shoulder, aiming at the target.
"Haha..."
Van Persie and the others came over, bursting into laughter at Alexandre Song's appearance, but they couldn't find the right words to describe the scene.
Alexandre Song then got up and found them laughing at him, his face flushed red, and he was a little unconvinced.
He couldn't understand why every time he learned from Maël, he achieved the opposite effect! Was it because he wasn't handsome enough? He touched his face, it shouldn't be, he and Maël were two types of handsome guys, he was the mature type.
"We won!"
"The top spot will be ours until November!"
"Hopefully until the end of the season."
"Shut up! Don't you know? You can't touch the trophy before the final, and you can't open the champagne in the middle!"
"Haha...!"
The Arsenal players chatted and laughed together, the harmonious scene making people feel at peace.
Behind them were the Chelsea players, already in despair, walking numbly towards the center circle.
Terry was most responsible for the conceded goal. The Blues captain, already over thirty, put his hands on his hips, his expression extremely depressed.
He was really old. The Premier League in the future belonged to these young lads.
He glanced at Maël, very envious. He didn't know how far this young man he had met for the first time could go.
"I didn't do well."
Ivanović lowered his head at this time and took the initiative to take responsibility. He was marking Maël today. "I let everyone down."
He no longer had the same thoughts as in the first half. He clearly felt that when dealing with this kind of player, as long as you have the slightest bit of contempt at any moment, the opponent may give you a fatal blow.
"Mine."
As the captain, Terry certainly didn't want him to take the blame, and retorted, "Okay, don't say any more, there's still a little time left."
In the 86th minute of the match, Chelsea's substitute Meireles dribbled past three Arsenal players in midfield, and then the through ball he sent actually broke through Arsenal's defense.
Mata cut in from the right winger position and shot the ball through Szczęsny's legs into the net.
Three to four! A very sudden goal!
"Yeah!" Cheers rang out in the stadium, and Chelsea fans saw hope again.
Boas, who had been staring blankly at the goal net from the sidelines, suddenly brightened up when he saw the goal. He quickly urged the players to restart the game, "Quick, quick, quick! There's still hope!!"
Maël's two wonder goals had wiped out all his tactics and energy. He had already been thinking about how to explain things to Abramovich, but he didn't expect there to be a twist.
He quickly turned to the bench and waved his hand, saying, "Lukaku, you have one minute to warm up. Get your body in the best possible condition!"
Lukaku was stunned for a second, then quickly got up and rushed to the sidelines, doing high knees to warm up.
Watching Maël show off on the field for so long, he, also born in '93, couldn't restrain himself any longer. He also wanted to step onto the field and show off his skills! One minute later, when Lukaku returned to Boas's side, the latter seemed to be temporarily unable to pay attention to him, arguing with the assistant coach about something.
"That wasn't the wrong decision, okay?"
Boas seemed a little exasperated, constantly waving his hands and shaking his head, shouting, "I don't think strengthening the defense at that time would have done any good. Maël's two goals couldn't have been prevented by strengthening the defense.
"Unless you talk to God and ask God to take away his talent! Okay?!"
As a genius young coach, Boas also liked geniuses. He felt that he understood players like Maël the most.
The assistant coach couldn't stand being yelled at like this, "If a person is unwilling to accept their mistakes, then they will never become a first-class coach.
"When Maël didn't score, you said the team's defense was fine. When he scored, you said strengthening the defense wouldn't have stopped him.
"You always have excuses. Do you think being a coach is the same as being a player? That you can make mistakes?
"If Maël loses possession, nothing will probably happen, but once you make a mistake, how many people's efforts will be wasted?!"
He said a lot in a row, leaving Boas standing there looking at him in astonishment, as if he hadn't expected it.
However, the young Portuguese coach certainly wouldn't understand the problem during this moment of daze. He was just accumulating anger.
"Enough! He's already scored two goals, it's useless to say anything!"
Boasshake shook his hand and turned around. Not knowing how to face Abramovich later was the main reason for his breakdown, in addition to Maël's influence.
When he turned his head and saw the dazed Lukaku, his brain was a little confused. He seemed to remember telling this player to warm up, but he also seemed not to.
Yes, he did! Boas's brain was shocked. He put one hand on Lukaku's shoulder and raised the other to call the fourth official to arrange a substitution.
The moment he opened his mouth, he found that he couldn't make any sound, and his ears began to ring violently.
He immediately looked pained and looked around blankly. The feeling of dizziness followed, making him feel that all his reactions were half a beat slower.
It was as if he was in a dream, and as if his body and everything in this stadium were not in the same dimension.
When he shook his head and looked at the field again, trying to clear his head—
*"Bang!"*
Goalkeeper Čech fumbled the save, and Van Persie cleverly scored a follow-up shot, then shook his head and ran to the sidelines.
Another goal! Five to three! There's no hope!
Boas's pupils slowly dilated, and then he felt a darkness in front of his eyes and fell forward uncontrollably.
"Thud!"
He fell heavily on the grass, attracting the attention of everyone around him.
Lukaku: "???"
So, does that mean he doesn't have to play?
"Save him!"
"Quick, quick, quick!"
The assistant coach who had just argued with Boas was the first to rush out, anxiously calling the team doctor over.
The sidelines were in chaos, and even Wenger, who was celebrating on the other side, came over to see Boas's condition.
"Beep! Beep! Beep—!"
When the referee blew the three long whistles to end the game, Boas slowly woke up and sat weakly on the coach's bench, drinking salt water.
Chelsea's players immediately surrounded him, and Terry and others stepped forward to ask about his condition.
"Sir," a staff member came over and whispered, "Abramovich invites you to sit in the box."
Boas nodded lightly. He had recovered a bit and remembered the words he had to say.
Looking at the score of five to three, he wondered if he could tell Abramovich that he had fulfilled the pre-match promise of three goals. "OleOleOle!!"
On the field, the Arsenal players formed a circle, arms around each other's shoulders, jumping wildly.
A perfect October! Achieved! Maël jumped the most excitedly. He wasn't the type to hold back; when celebrating, he should let go of all rationality and wholeheartedly enjoy the most primal joy of the moment.
"Sagna!"
He looked at Sagna, who had scored a goal today, and said, "I'm even more confident now about winning the Golden Boy Award. Should 'Maël's Song' incorporate some Golden Boy elements?"
Sagna didn't jump with the others; he stood in the middle of everyone, dancing. Usually, he was always in the center position at times like this.
Hearing Maël's words, he nodded slightly, feeling there was some truth to it, and his brain started working rapidly.
"Forget it!" Maël laughed loudly, revealing his true intention, and joked, "What if I win the Premier League Golden Boot at the end of the season, and then win the Ballon d'Or in the future? You'd have to rewrite it again."
"Let's just leave it as it is for now, wouldn't want to trouble you, haha!"
"Tch!" A loud chorus sounded, as every Arsenal player looked at Maël with disdain.
"Speaking of which, what about that barbecue you promised?"
Someone remembered that Maël had promised at the beginning of the month that if he scored 10 goals, he would treat everyone to barbecue. Now he had 14 goals and nothing had materialized.
"Yeah!"
"14 goals, shouldn't we be eating something better? How can barbecue do?"
"There are some very good barbecue restaurants, you know. I know one that costs £400 per person, let's fleece him, he earns so much anyway!"
"Hahaha, good!"
Maël looked at their excited expressions and nodded in agreement, "Then let's head out later, anyway, it's in London, which we know best."
After joking around for a while, they celebrated today's main event, a perfect October! "Ole! Ole Ole Ole Ole!!!"
"Perfect October! Perfect October! We are the best! We will win the championship!"
"Wait." Maël felt they were too monotonous, so he came to the middle, holding out his hand, "Come on, sing with me, I'll teach you a new army song."
"What?" Sagna looked at him curiously, he was very interested in this aspect.
Maël looked at them, his expression serious, and started with a zero-frame start, following the magical rhythm: "We Arsenal are invincible!"
The Arsenal players suddenly felt a burst of discomfort, a magical melody they had never heard before, as if it existed in another dimension.
"What is it?"
"Invincible?"
"Haha, seems a bit interesting."
But soon, combined with this short song lyric, they realized its brilliance.
A group of superstars with a combined value of over 200 million euros, hugged each other with smiles, laughing and saying, "We Arsenal are invincible!"
The day was cloudy, the weather was gloomy, but they, wearing red and white jerseys, seemed to illuminate this small area with a field of joy, each face filled with the light of hope.
"Revival!!"
"Northern Expedition!"
"The Northern Expedition has already succeeded one step!"
"Haha...!" Wenger, who was on the side, didn't know why he wanted to laugh so much, perhaps because he felt this scene was beautiful, he stood beside everyone for a long time.
In a trance, he seemed to see that Arsenal team of the 0304 season, saw Henry, Vieira, Pires, Bergkamp and others gathered together, celebrating something.
Although some memories had become blurred, the joy in his impression was the same, he couldn't help but sigh and murmur, "Finally, there is hope to go back."
That team he had been dreaming of, the peak Arsenal he had been longing for, carrying the glorious Gunner icon! In a way and speed he didn't expect, it was slowly approaching him... at least he could see some shadows.
Philip came up at some point, looking at the players, but asked Wenger, "How do you feel?"
"Lucky!" Wenger's answer was very straightforward, he just said one word.
Philip smiled, took a deep breath, "So, we have a chance to do something this season, right?"
Wenger didn't say anything more, he just stared at Maël, who was laughing and singing in the middle of the crowd, staring at that high-spirited Maël, the eager expectation in his eyes helped him explain everything.
After the match press conference, Wenger and Maël sat there, both with smiles on their faces.
"Who should I congratulate first?"
An FA staff member walked up with two cylindrical trophies and said with a smile, "Or rather, who should we present the Monthly Best to first?"
"Him." Wenger pointed decisively at Maël, humbly saying, "His contribution is greater than mine."
"Haha."
Maël smiled and shook his head, but he didn't decline, taking the Premier League Player of the Month trophy from the staff member's hand.
It was a very cool lion king cylinder, packaged in a beautiful gift box, with 'Player of the Month' clearly written on it.
"Whoosh."
A surge of excitement welled up in Maël's heart. In his third month in the Premier League, he finally got his wish and held this cylinder that looked like shampoo.
Not easy.
Another one of his goals was achieved he had obtained his first significant top-league honor!
This was the best affirmation of his past month. Holding it in his hands, feeling its 'weight,' Maël seemed to see each of his goals and assists from this month transformed onto it.
Those countless wonderful moments, countless tough opponents who ultimately fell before him, were finally condensed into a microcosm, becoming this cylinder.
"Thank you."
He picked up the cylinder, thanking everyone who had helped him this month, including Wenger, his teammates, and himself.
"You once said that you hoped to win the Monthly Best award three times this season."
A reporter came forward first, familiarly asking the first question, "Will getting the first one increase your confidence?"
The Sky Sports and BBC reporters next to her glanced at her, not understanding why this tabloid reporter had the audacity to ask questions before them.
"Of course, it will."
Maël looked at Emilia and smiled, "It was a fantastic month. The team had a 4-game winning streak in the Premier League, secured the top spot in the Champions League group, and entered the quarter-finals of the EFL Cup.
"Mr. Wenger and I each won the Best Player and Best Coach awards. It can be said that this is Arsenal's month.
"Everyone in this team will be encouraged and gain confidence, and so will I."
Emilia nodded and continued with a smile, "The boss of Football Record instructed me before coming that if you could win this month's award, I should convey his highest respect on his behalf.
"He is your fan, and he told me that your merits are so numerous that they can't be listed on a single page."
The Sky Sports and BBC reporters couldn't help but look a little anxious, but seeing Maël's smiling face, they didn't want to spoil the fun by interrupting, after all, they couldn't steal the show.
"Help me thank him."
Maël put on a happy look, shamelessly saying, "Football Record should be a small tabloid, right? Among so many well-known media outlets, you seem very small, but you have a lot of courage."
He looked at the Sky Sports and BBC reporters, nodding to them, and they squeezed out a smile.
"This is the same as when I first came to England."
Maël looked back at Emilia, suppressing a smile, "I hope you can be like me and quickly make yourselves seen by more people, achieving your goals."
"Thank you!" Emilia was even more of an old pro, beaming as she said, "Thank you on behalf of the boss. Also, can I give you a hug for him?"
"Sure."
Maël stood up and opened his arms to her, "I never refuse a beautiful woman's hug invitation. You are almost the most beautiful British female reporter I have ever seen."
Many of the female reporters present twitched their lips, and could only sigh that this female reporter from Football Record was really lucky to be praised by Maël in this kind of occasion.
"Ah." Emilia blushed and jumped to the stage to hug Maël.
This was the real old pro.
It wasn't until she stepped down that the press conference officially began.
"I don't think 14 Premier League goals will put pressure on me. Why do you think the opposite? Do you think my form will decline, or do you think I might be a player with a bad mentality?
"Haha, I don't even have such worries myself. Even if my form fluctuates, I will definitely keep moving forward and upward because my experience and ability are growing.
"I don't think I have a limit. I have never been able to see where my limit is at least, not now."
"Thank you for your blessings. No matter what others think, I hope we can achieve championship glory this season. No player doesn't want that."
"I'm not worried about the setbacks and mud on this road; I only look forward to a good result."
"I hope this will be an unforgettable season, and we can overcome all difficulties."
...
"I'm quite tired. I'll leave the home game to Mr. Wenger next."
Maël raised his cylinder, preparing to go offline for a while, resting while watching Wenger's performance.
Thinking about it carefully, this was truly an unparalleled January. He would record this moment of joy and use it as a goal to continue persevering, gritting his teeth to climb over mountains, and maintaining faith when encountering difficulties.
"6 goals and 1 assist! Maël and Arsenal achieve a perfect January, winning the October Player of the Month award for the 11-12 season! This is the player's first Premier League Monthly Best!"—British 442
".The most beautiful reporter? Maël praised a tabloid reporter after the game. It is rumored that this reporter is from Football Record!"—British Daily Express
"Brace! Maël and Van Persie score 4 goals together, helping the team defeat Chelsea five to three! Arsenal completes a perfect October!"—The Guardian
"Boas faints during the game! The Portuguese young manager's Chelsea journey doesn't seem pleasant. Maël's two wonder goals may be one of the reasons!"—North London Newspaper
"Stunning bicycle kick! Maël's turn and kick produce the best goal of this round of the Premier League!"—Football Record
Because there were so many talking points in this round of matches, it quickly grabbed the heat of all the matches that ended in the same round after the game.
Boas fainting, Arsenal's perfect October, Maël's bicycle kick, Monthly Best, the most beautiful reporter, etc., instantly attracted the attention of fans all over Europe, and everyone found a channel they loved to watch.
Football Record, also unexpectedly gained a small wave of popularity in this way.
They quickly posted many photos of Emilia, using 'the most beautiful reporter' as a slogan, and began marketing their newspaper.
BBC quickly couldn't stand it anymore and quickly invited a heavyweight guest to grab this wave of popularity.
That night, in the studio, host Lineker sat in front of the camera and started the program, "Hello everyone, welcome to the BBC column. The new episode has officially started.
"Maël's name has been spreading like a plague recently. This young player has unexpectedly continued his EFL Championship form after reaching the Premier League!" "Today, I will analyze this player's two goals in the recent game with guest Alan Shearer, a regular on the guest seat. Of course, we also have a mysterious special guest, please turn the camera.
"He is Maël's coach at Sheffield United, Mr. Gareth Speed!"
The camera turned, and Gareth Speed appeared in the background of a green field. His complexion was good, and he looked to be in good spirits recently.
"Mr. Gareth Speed is still the coach of Sheffield United. His team is currently ranked 13th in the Premier League, which is considered to have stabilized the situation and initially completed the relegation target."
Lineker introduced, then asked: "What kind of player is Maël in your impression?"
"Impression?"
Gareth Speed chuckled and said, "He is not a player living in my impression. I can see his performance in the Premier League every week. I clearly know what kind of player he is now.
"But to say that last season was actually the same as this season, he is a player who can bring surprises, he can bring the team to a new height and inject vitality into a team.
"I still remember the commentary of a game last season: Aaag! Waaagh! Incredible! Absolutely phenomenal!"
At the end, he squeezed his face and laughed, imitating the commentary in front of the commentator, which was indeed a bit funny.
"Haha..."
Lineker laughed twice and released a projection gif, which was Maël's goal of knocking down three people in a row, "Let's talk about this goal."
Gareth Speed looked at his old teammate and good friend Alan Shearer, waited for a long time and couldn't help but said: "Alan, if you don't take the initiative, I will have to settle old scores.
"Didn't you say that if I led Sheffield United to Promotion to the Super League last season, you would streak in the Thames River?
"But in the end, I won the championship, and I won it with a percentage. Shouldn't you fulfill your promise? Or, in addition to taking off your clothes, give me a pair of pants for my achievements."
"No, no, no." Alan Shearer smiled and admitted defeat, quickly looked at the screen, and smiled: "Let's take a look, Maël successively passed Mata, Ivanović, Terry, and finally scored! "I must say, I think of Adriano, I think of Ibrahimović... This kind of impact is something people have never seen in the post-Drogba era.
"Mata and Ivanović are like recruits in front of him, Terry is like an old lion who can't move, and is easily crushed by the new lion.
"It can be said that he is already top-notch in this regard. I don't want to talk about his shooting, his dribbling, etc. Leaving aside the technique, he is top-notch."
Gareth Speed squinted at the screen playing back and forth, and said: "It just takes time for people to accept everything. When we look back at the end of this season, this performance is top-notch.
"Top-notch in all aspects."
"OK." Lineker smiled and pulled up a compilation of Maël's second goal, playing it back and forth, "His most exciting goal this week is still this one, which is simply unprecedented.
"The most surprising thing to me is that people don't seem to realize that Maël isn't the traditional muscle-bound, speed freak type.
"His flexibility and coordination are both excellent, which helps him a lot in some ways.
"Look at that goal, amazing coordination, amazing leg lift!" Alan Shearer just said he has top-notch physicality. I think if you add this, his physical attributes are perfect.
"Any football data organization, and any football game rating his physical stats, wouldn't give him less than 93!"
"A freak!" Alan Shearer watched the gif of the goal. He was a strong type when he played, and he knows how difficult it is for a player to have that kind of coordination in that situation.
"Actually..."
Gareth Speed shook his head, sighing, "His coordination was already good at Sheffield United. What surprised me most was his ability to withstand challenges, his speed.
"I've wanted to say this for a while, but I really don't understand what kind of training can have this kind of improvement?
"It's unheard of. You can't even imagine what kind of player he'll become at this rate.
"I've noticed that the player has recently added volley shots and outside-of-the-foot shots... and a weak foot that he didn't have last season. It's really like..."
He gesticulated, searching for the right words, "Like a player from another planet."
"People used to describe Ronaldo like that," Alan Shearer said, looking at him, trying to provoke him into making a comparison.
Gareth Speed understood, and smiled, "I think he's stronger. I coached him, I watched him score 40 goals and 27 assists with my own eyes."
"So."
Lineker looked at Gareth Speed, jokingly asking, "If he was still at Sheffield United, what kind of team do you think Sheffield United would be?"
"Oh..."
Gareth Speed seriously considered the question, and as he thought, his eyes couldn't help but show a hint of nostalgia. "Speaking of which, I miss him. Every time we lose, I think of his face, of the days we worked together.
"If he was still here, I think we'd have a chance to get into the top 10? Top 8? It's difficult. I don't think the Sheffield United players can give him top-level support. The Arsenal players help him too."
Remembering something, he smiled, "I once said that if he could win a championship at Arsenal, I'd tell him a secret."
"What?" Alan Shearer leaned in, smiling and asking, "Is it about you being afraid of your wife?"
"No."
Gareth Speed looked at him, smirking, "It's the story of how you chased three girls, but all three of them liked me."
"Haha...!"
Amidst the laughter, Alan Shearer blushed, pointing at the screen to change the subject, "We're getting off topic, let's watch the screen, what a wonderful goal."
...
On October 30th, Tuttosport announced a 40-man shortlist for the Golden Boy Award.
Maël was at home with four team members, watching the news and chatting about the players on the list.
"Rodwell."
Davis looked at a name, frowning, "The captain of the England national youth team, worth 16 million."
"Phil Jones, Shaqiri, El Shaarawy, Wilshere... Xhaka, Lacazette, Alaba."
Harry read the names one by one, finding that he hadn't heard of most of them, and could only say, "I didn't expect Wilshere, who can't even get on the field for Arsenal, to be the most valuable among them."
"Isn't Götze higher?" Safina leaned over, curious, "Götze is worth 30 million, tied with Maël."
"He's not on the same level as these guys," Harry said, stating his logic, "Götze and Maël are on another level in this list, I'm just talking about the ones I read."
Maël didn't argue with them. He browsed the list from bottom to top according to the rankings.
It was clear that this batch of Golden Boy candidates was pretty good, with about twenty of them becoming superstars known to fans around the world in the future.
Courtois, Griezmann, James Rodríguez, Varane, Eriksen, Lukaku, Coutinho, Hazard, etc., he was quite familiar with them.
The future of football would be the future of these young players.
"Wait."
Maël's eyes suddenly lit up, looking at one spot, exclaiming, "Gilbert?"
His friend Gilbert was also on the list, ranked 16th with a value of 15 million euros!
"Not bad," Safina knew Gilbert, turned her head and smiled, "You two brothers are entering an important hall together."
Maël nodded, he was indeed happy for his brother; those who had accompanied him along the way were always especially important.
Speaking of which, he missed that kid a bit; he really looked forward to fighting alongside him next season.
He then looked down at his own ranking; he was very confident about this, he never doubted that he would be left out.
He hadn't seen it just now, simply because it was at the very top.
Sure enough, the name at the top of the list was his; the organizers had given him a reasonable ranking based on his performance.
Tied for first place were Götze of Dortmund, Griezmann of Real Sociedad, Coutinho of Inter Milan, and Hazard of Lille.
Then, the list started from fifth place; from here on, there was no threat to him.
"Are you ready to accompany me to the awards ceremony?" Maël looked at the four people in the team, joking with them with a smile, as if the Golden Boy Award was already in his pocket.
Perform well in November, and strive to receive the award as desired in December! He set this goal, stretched, and came to the French window, smiling as he admired the beautiful scenery outside the window, feeling that the sun today was brighter than in summer.
Words I want to say to everyone:
Brothers, I have never deleted the comments in the chapters, whether they are encouraging, suggesting, or dissatisfied. I basically reply to them, accept them frankly, and look forward to bringing you better content.
It's just that sometimes after finishing writing, the backend changes one or two words, and the comments in some paragraphs are all gone. I still hope for more comments to get out of the circle to lv2 sooner, hahaha.
Thank you for the monthly tickets and recommendation tickets you send every day, as well as all the food and clothing parents who have subscribed all along, and the brothers who have helped Mu Yao correct errors many times.
To be honest, you are really my biggest motivation for updating so much. I fill in until late, have no social life, and can't even eat on time, just to bring you more content.
This is the only thing I can do for you (actually, it's not miserable, don't worry, everyone, I'm still very motivated). Sometimes the updates are a little late, don't mind, everyone. A chapter of 7k or 8k words, a card text will inevitably be slow, please understand!
This book will be on an important recommendation for the first time on the 9th, and I'm in a good mood. I hope everyone will like the subsequent content!
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