"The second half should focus on the left."
In the locker room, Wenger stood in front of the tactical board, moving all the pieces to the left. Clearly, he wanted to help Maël find a solution.
"In positional attacks, everyone should first move towards the left, ensuring the compactness of the formation.
"Then there's Ramsey, you need to frequently switch positions with Maël to create a three-on-two chaos in that area for the opponents.
"You can go to the left wing, and Maël can also retreat to the left midfielder position to receive the ball at any time. With his positioning and awareness, I'm sure this will increase his ball possession."
Maël looked at the tactical board and nodded slightly. Retreating from densely defended areas to receive the ball is a timeless way to increase possession.
He had used similar tactics many times this season, but this was the first time he had switched positions with a midfielder to receive the ball.
His freedom had increased somewhat, which would allow his various abilities to have a broader space to display. And he didn't have to worry about retreating reducing the threat; he could decide for himself whether to switch positions to receive the ball.
During counter-attacks, he would push forward. Once he entered the tug-of-war of positional attacks, he would retreat to get possession first and then look for opportunities.
Ramsey would coordinate with him as his support. As long as he retreated, the opponent would give up their position and rush towards his left wing.
"Arteta."
Wenger was still making arrangements, ensuring the stability of the formation. "When Maël retreats, you must get close to him, and Alexandre Song must also protect him from behind to prevent losing possession.
"Walcott on the other side will retreat to Arteta's position, which is equivalent to turning the entire formation half a circle towards the left wing, but making the left wing more flexible, understand?"
This was a relatively conventional arrangement, but it also showed Wenger's intention to heavily bet on the left wing, even at the cost of sacrificing some of Walcott's threat.
There was no other way; to create a threat, one had to make some riskier attempts.
At this time, even if Maël's ability was strong, he might lose possession more often.
Losing possession in the midfield was still very dangerous, unlike losing possession on the left wing.
In order to allow Maël to display his offensive talent more fearlessly, Wenger chose to fine-tune the entire 4-3-3 formation, allowing all defensive midfielders to provide protection for him.
Playmaker!
Even the offensive core! Many people's expressions changed as they looked at Maël. This was the first time Wenger had made such a significant change.
"Now, the entire left half is your stage."
Before entering the second half, Ramsey grabbed Maël's shoulder and smiled, "Do you feel like you're stepping up to another level?"
"A little."
Maël raised an eyebrow and joked, "But I haven't reached the end yet. When the entire frontcourt is my stage, then I'll really have made it."
"Haha..." Ramsey shook his head with a smile, "Why don't you expect the entire football field to be your stage?"
Maël glanced at him and smiled, "Good suggestion, I think it's worth a shot."
In the team owner's box, Abramovich opened another bottle of wine and even called his female assistant in to drink with him.
"I told you it wouldn't be a draw."
He was still confident in his team, smiling, "Boas assured me that he had studied Arsenal's defense and was confident of scoring more than 3 goals."
"There's still half a game left." Mendes reminded him not to be too optimistic. He had also drunk a lot of wine and was a little drunk. "Maël is holding back and hasn't shown his full potential yet, believe in him."
Abramovich laughed twice and said, "What kind of player do you think he is?"
Mendes frowned and thought seriously, "Hmm, an extraordinary player? Haha, that seems a bit general. Actually, I haven't thought about this question for a long time.
"His growth rate and performance this season never give people time to react. Even his entire football career is like this.
"Sometimes you're still wondering what he's going to do, and he's already moving forward, and moving very fast."
Abramovich pursed his lips and smiled, then asked, "Compared to Cristiano?"
"It's hard to say." Mendes was in trouble. He took a sip of foreign wine and said, "If you ask me who I would choose now, I would choose Cristiano without hesitation.
"But if it's Maël at 18 and Cristiano at 18, I would choose Maël.
"I haven't told him this yet. I think he is stronger than Cristiano at 18 now. This difference is even enough to erase my personal feelings for Cristiano at the time."
Speaking of this, he also asked in return, "What about you? Can you tell me what kind of earth-shattering contract you originally prepared for him?"
The two slightly tipsy middle-aged men briefly abandoned their positions and spoke heartfelt words for the same player they admired.
"You know."
Abramovich raised his glass, clinked it with Mendes, and holding the glass, said, "Everyone understands my pursuit of him. I was the first to offer 20 million, 30 million, 40 million euros.
"Besides me, no one else has been so generous, continuously offering three prices that broke the Transfermarkt value at the time.
"If you ask me now, I'm willing to offer 60 million euros to buy him. I definitely will if I have the chance."
He took a sip of foreign wine to moisten his throat and added, "Do you know Tevez? Manchester City signed him last year and offered him the highest salary in Premier League history."
"320,000 pounds," Mendes smiled. Of course, he understood this. "He's the first Premier League player to earn a million pounds a month."
Abramovich pointed at Mendes with his finger, put down his glass, and said seriously, "I'm willing to give Maël this price, and there will be incredibly generous bonus clauses on top of that."
Mendes scratched the beard on his face, pursed his lips, and nodded, raising his eyebrows. "About 180,000 pounds after tax. Actually, Maël's current weekly income is about that much."
Abramovich was stunned for a moment, but he quickly understood that the player's stats were very good, and there should be a lot of bonuses.
"But—"
"Alright." Mendes waved his hand again, pointing to the field. "The game has started. I just need to know your definition of his value. No need to say anything else. The player is still fighting for immortality."
"Haha...!"
Abramovich wasn't a stubborn person either. He nodded and looked at the field. "But I still have to say, that's too difficult, too difficult, too difficult.
"It's like... it's like I randomly grab a player from Germany or somewhere and point at him and tell you that he will lead Chelsea to another Champions League title with a winning goal."
"But it's not impossible."
"Bip!"
After the second half started, thinking that this would be the last 45 minutes of the game, and whether they could win all of October depended on these last 45 minutes.
The Arsenal players' faces were full of fighting spirit, and their desire for goals reached its peak.
In the 47th minute of the match, Maël took the first opportunity to drop back to Ramsey's position, shaking off Ivanović's close marking.
"Deng deng deng!" Ramsey cooperated very well with him, turning and rushing to his position.
"Bang!"
A very comfortable receiving area had already formed. Arteta, who had the ball, had a strong passing ability and kicked the ball over in the next instant.
Maël turned to face the direction of attack when he stopped the ball, and also faked out the following Ivanović.
When he dribbled the ball forward, he observed left and right. After finding no particularly good passing opportunity, he dribbled towards the Chelsea goal.
Lampard rushed over from behind, wanting to intercept his dribble from behind, and Ivanović directly slid out his foot.
"Bang bang!"
Maël flicked the ball to the left, then hooked it to the center, dodging the sliding tackle and not giving Lampard a chance to steal the ball.
His Ball Control ability now, not to say how good it is, but he can still do this kind of movement.
At least when dribbling at high Speed, he has the ability to get past people, so he won't stumble and lose the ball himself, nor will the opponent be able to steal it with a single grab.
Coupled with his explosive acceleration ability, his body, the ball at his feet is really not easy to steal.
"Bang!" Noticing Lampard catching up, he leaned to the right to block him off and continued to dribble forward.
"Here!"
"Maël!"
Ramsey on the left and Van Persie in the center were both calling for the ball. Maël first passed the ball to Van Persie in front, who hooked the ball and turned around, and then turned his back to the defense after finding someone blocking him.
"Hey!"
Maël had already arrived at the left side of the arc of the penalty area, calling for the ball, and Van Persie quickly passed the ball horizontally with his left foot.
Unexpectedly, Lampard was still following him at this time, and was about to rush up from behind.
Maël looked at the incoming ball, took a step forward to protect Lampard's interception line with his body, and made a gesture of stopping the ball to the right.
Lampard's center of gravity shifted to the right, and he followed the direction of Maël's body, wanting to slide and intercept the ball when Maël stopped it.
As a result, Maël didn't stop the ball at all. After his right leg stepped on the ground, he suddenly went to the left along the direction of the incoming ball.
Feint!
"Ah," Lampard missed and rolled his eyes upwards, turning his car around to chase to the left again.
Maël, after using his left foot to control the ball, slowly dribbled to the edge of the penalty area. Facing the defense of Bosingwa and Terry, the two took small steps, their faces serious and tense.
"Pa-boom!"
He suddenly pushed the ball to the right, flicked his wrist, and fired a curved shot from between the two, the football flying towards the far corner of the goal.
Frequency!
As long as the footwork frequency is fast enough, sometimes you can tear out some opportunities from small spaces! "Pa!" Čech flew out at the crucial moment, covering the entire goal like a spring, and pushed the ball out of the baseline.
"Ah!" A burst of exclamation erupted from the entire Stamford Bridge stadium, followed by applause for Čech.
Maël scratched his hair with some regret, but a few glimmers of confidence rose in his heart. The tactical switch was working.
As long as he has freedom, his lv4 Judgement will provide him with great selection and offensive ideas, and he will definitely be able to create similar threats again! "Ivanović!"
On the defensive line, Chelsea defender Terry waved anxiously at Ivanović, "Don't go to ground, don't lunge rashly, keep up with him!"
The aging Blues captain was now feeling a little overwhelmed.
He had watched some of Maël's offensive highlights and knew that with his current physical condition, trying to defend against this young prodigy was simply a fantasy.
Ivanović lowered his head and waved his hand, seemingly not caring. He probably felt that his responsibility was to attack, and he had done a good job of limiting Maël in the first half.
Arsenal's subsequent corner kick was intercepted by Chelsea, who immediately launched a quick counterattack, pushing all the way into Arsenal's danger zone.
In the crisis, Koscielny made a bold interception in front of Torres, stealing the ball from his feet, and the momentum of attack and defense instantly reversed!
"Pa pa pa!"
Under the applause of the Arsenal traveling fans, he passed the ball to Alexandre Song, who was chasing back, and then slammed his chest to celebrate.
"Back! Back!!"
Boas on the sidelines shouted nervously. Chelsea quickly retreated across the board, and their collective rush towards their own half was a spectacular sight.
Since Walcott appeared more in midfield in the second half and was not conspicuous, they were a little lax in their defense on the right.
In an unnoticed corner, Arsenal's right-back, the famous singer Sagna, rushed up from the right, all the way to the penalty area.
"Boom!"
Alexandre Song took a few steps with the ball and then made a long pass, the ball landing very accurately.
Sagna, inside the penalty area, shot the ball with the instep of his foot towards the far post without stopping it, and the ball smashed into the net.
Goal! Two to two! The iron tree blooms! "Oh!"
All the Arsenal players rushed towards Sagna, knocking down their teammate, who rarely scores a goal in a season.
"Dang dang dang dang...!"
Sagna pretended to be holding a guitar and danced a cheerful dance on the sideline, laughing and singing: "I have a friend! He's dangerous when he goes out, he's a devil when he moves forward! He always stands up when he's needed!"
Maël and Van Persie followed beside him, imitating his dance moves.
Everyone was in a good mood, and everyone saw the hope of winning all games in October!
Charge!
For the hope of revival! "Come on!!"
"We are the best!!"
The Arsenal players encouraged each other and ran towards their own half after celebrating.
No one can say exactly what cohesion is, or how to improve it. This is not something Wenger can solve by reading a few books such as If You Can't Lead a Team, You Can Only Work to Death and The 18 Challenges of Leadership.
But one thing is certain, if a team can keep winning and always be in a joyful atmosphere, it will slowly have cohesion! Few people will suddenly burst out with dissatisfaction and find fault with others when they are in a good mood.
On the sidelines, Boas's pressure was on. He didn't shout at his defense this time. The loss of the ball in this kind of offensive and defensive transition couldn't be blamed on the players.
But... what to do next? He had solemnly promised the boss before the game that he would win this important victory, turn the team around, and launch an attack towards the top of the standings.
Abramovich also waved his hand and promised everyone that if they won this game, they would take out £3 million in bonuses for everyone to share.
The money wasn't the key point; each person probably only got around 100,000 pounds.
But the important thing was, if Abramovich couldn't even distribute the money he 'promised', and wanted to spend money but had nowhere to spend it... the boss's anger was imaginable.
"How about strengthening the defense?" An assistant coach came up and suggested.
"No."
Boas refused decisively, saying, "Find a way to seize the transitions and seek more goals. Overall, the team's defense today was pretty good."
"Huh?" The assistant coach thought he had misheard. What team that conceded two goals would say their defense was good?
"Maël didn't score."
Boas stated his criteria, adding, "Arsenal is also an attack-heavy, defense-light team. Conceding two goals is normal. We just need to score more."
...
In the 56th minute of the match, Chelsea pressed forward to attack, but Arsenal launched another quick counter-attack.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
After several consecutive one-touch passes, Arteta played a long pass to Walcott, who dribbled the ball into the dangerous area and then passed it across to Van Persie.
This time, Maël didn't drop back to receive the ball. He stayed in the most advanced position on the left, accelerating forward towards the opponent's defense.
Terry was specifically watching him this time. Seeing his intention to move forward, he followed and blocked his path.
Realizing that Van Persie had no intention of passing, Maël stopped and retreated out of the penalty area, waiting for a chance to accelerate again.
"Pa, pa!"
In the center, Van Persie's feet quickly touched the ball, dodging the Chelsea midfielders and defenders' pursuit and interception.
He had seen Maël's forward run just now, but didn't know how to pass the ball directly to him.
In fact, with his technical finesse, he could do a pass with the outside of his foot or a lob pass.
However, his creativity and imagination were mostly displayed when he was shooting. When passing to teammates, he considered more about responsibility... whether the teammate would receive the ball comfortably, whether it could create an opportunity, and so on.
"Pa, pa..."
He was still controlling the ball. The longer he held it, the more difficult his situation became, and the encirclement of the opposing players was shrinking.
"Hey!" Just then, a shout rang out from his left.
Van Persie knew it was Maël's voice, and he also knew that the other was reminding him to find a way to get the ball into the penalty area.
"Cha!"
Hesitating for a moment, and finding no other good way, Van Persie used the outside of his left foot to tap the bottom of the ball, instantly using force to lift the ball, aiming it in the direction of the sound, giving it a bit of a lead.
He didn't have time to look at Maël when he passed, he could only rely on his feeling.
After passing, as the Chelsea players scattered and chased after Maël, he looked up in that direction.
"Bang!"
It wasn't the sound of the football landing, it was Maël knocking over Uncle Mata outside the penalty area. The latter's small frame was a bit vulnerable.
His screen-block failed, and Maël sped towards the football with an unstoppable momentum.
"Go on!"
Van Persie's heart pounded violently. This ball depended on Maël.
In front of the penalty area, many Chelsea players looked at the referee in horror. Realizing that the referee didn't intend to blow the whistle, they gritted their teeth and charged towards the falling football along with Maël.
Ivanović outflanked from the left, closing his eyes and crashing into Maël's left side. He knew he might be knocked to the ground by Maël, but he had to try to create some pressure.
"I'm coming!"
Terry rushed over from the center-back position, crashing into Maël from the right.
The two sandwiched Maël in the middle, like wrapping a dumpling. Everyone knew that they couldn't let Maël receive the ball easily at this time.
Maël looked at the two rushing over, and at the falling football, and was actually a little unsure.
Terry was, after all, famous, and his physical resistance shouldn't be weak... Ivanović was also considered a defensive player.
"Bang!"
The first impact came, Ivanović forcefully bumped his shoulder and waist. It was a very clean challenge; they didn't dare to foul in the penalty area.
Maël felt a force coming from his left, but it wasn't strong. Ivanović didn't make him stagger; instead, his body seemed to be stuck.
He could clearly feel the force from the opponent and had enough power to push him away to the left!
Maël secretly exerted force, leaning slowly to the left like in an arm-wrestling match, without even reducing his running Speed.
Ivanović instantly experienced the darkest moment of his life. He fell straight down like a log. It wasn't a sudden force, but a force that kept accumulating until it overwhelmed him.
Just as he was about to fall, the force suddenly retracted and went to the right.
What is this? 80! 80! 80!
Enough, shōu! (Withdraw)!
"What a monster?!"
On the sidelines, Boas watched the chaos in the penalty area, looking at Terry, who was the last to pose a threat to Maël, and couldn't help but sweat.
"Bang!"
Maël's confrontation with Terry quickly occurred in the penalty area. Both carried the expectations of their respective fans, one being the foremost attacking player, and the other being the last line of defense.
"Yeah!" Arsenal fans then stood up and raised their arms.
Chelsea fans looked pale at the penalty area, with confusion and worry on their faces.
Terry's body was seen bouncing to the right, while Maël only staggered one step before continuing to charge towards the ball, creating an excellent opportunity! This wasn't a person; it was simply a bulldozer, pushing straight into Chelsea's penalty area.
"Fuck!" Boas complained, waving his hand on the sidelines, looking nervously at their goalkeeper Čech.
After the ball landed and bounced again, Maël in the penalty area arrived right in front of the ball. He didn't choose Ball Control but prepared to finish the attack with a Volley.
"Boom!!"
A blasting sound rang out. Maël's left foot lifted, fiercely striking the falling ball towards the far corner of the goal.
The force of the ball was so great that it didn't even give Čech a chance to jump. His arm only moved slightly before he lowered it because he had already heard the sound of the ball hitting the net behind him.
"Wow!!" Stamford Bridge was enveloped by the roaring of Arsenal fans. Tens of thousands of home fans either covered their faces with their jerseys or angrily threw things onto the field.
Three to two! Arsenal took the lead!
Explosive body, explosive goal! Uncle Mata, who was the first to be knocked over, had already gotten up, looking around in confusion at the other players and the uproar in the Chelsea fan zone.
Ivanović had just experienced the darkest moment of his life and was now lying face down on the ground, unwilling to get up, burying his head in his arms.
Captain Terry was right next to Maël, watching the opponent's Volley hit the target, but was powerless to stop it.
It was like returning to the rainy night in Moscow in 2008 when he missed the penalty. He sat on the ground in frustration, looking at the ground in front of him without saying a word.
This ball could also be scored?
Helmet-wearing Čech took two steps forward, holding his nose with one finger, wondering if he had a nosebleed.
Under their appearance, the entire Arsenal team seemed to be injected with chicken blood, excitedly running towards Maël.
"This can also be scored?!"
Van Persie's thoughts at this time were not much different from those of the Chelsea players. He knew how he passed the ball. He never expected that he could get an assist like this.
He could often truly experience the benefits of being Maël's teammate. Wouldn't this data increase rapidly, and wouldn't his value explode? "13 goals!"
Maël excitedly waved his arms and punched in place, then ran all the way to the camera on the sidelines, making a fist with one hand and holding out three fingers with the other towards the camera.
This was definitely the most violent goal he had scored since landing in the Premier League! Continuously knocking over three defenders, volleying the ball into the goal! He thought of the famous Cannon Batistuta, recalled his machine-gun celebration, and imitated his appearance, laughing and sweeping back and forth on the sideline.
If Germany's Klinsmann was a bomber, then players like him and Batistuta were heavy tanks! They all posed a fatal threat to the opponent's goal and could bring a unique level of pressure! The anger from the unfair penalty was released, and the extreme joy surged into his heart, making him unable to stop moving for a moment!
This quickly aroused the dissatisfaction of Chelsea fans, and many people booed.
Maël turned around and hugged his teammates who ran over. While hugging, he waved to Wenger on the sidelines, who looked amazed.
"Haha...!"
On the sidelines, Wenger clapped his hands high and smiled when he saw Maël gesturing to him.
A strong premonition surged into his heart. He felt that the team would win this game and achieve a perfect record in October!
You must give it your all. Wenger was well aware of the morale boost a month of victories would bring to the team.
Nearby, Boas was kneeling on the ground again, this time not in a celebratory slide, but with his legs weakened by disappointment. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked at the field with a slightly lost expression.
This kind of goal can easily shatter a team's spirit.
Just moments before, he had confidently stated that the team's defense was solid, and Maël hadn't scored.
But immediately after, Maël gave him a big one that he was destined to remember for a long time.
...
In the owner's box, in the stadium's VIP area.
Abramovich's face was flushed red, and he held a cigar between two fingers, covering his eyes as he watched the field.
Mendes leaned back, shaking his head and laughing without making a sound. He knew he couldn't celebrate too exuberantly at this moment.
Suddenly, he recalled when he had just signed Maël. Back then, Maël didn't have such explosive physical confrontation and comprehensive abilities.
Although his goal-scoring efficiency in the EFL Championship was high, it was very one-dimensional.
How long has it been, and he has already grown into a player of this level! That's more than just a correct signing; it might be another signing that changes his career!
"Clatter!"
After recovering from the initial wave of disappointment, Abramovich threw the cigar on the table and slapped it hard, looking a bit like a child when he got angry.
In just over ten minutes, from two-one to two-three, who could stand that?
Abramovich looked at Mendes, frowned, and sighed, "I'm sure I saw the peak Drogba in that position."
"No, no, no."
Mendes waved his hand and smiled, "They both have their strengths, just similar in impact and physical confrontation. Maël is a different type of player."
He held back half a sentence, Maël might become another level of player, not Drogba, not Henry.
Even now, no one dares to say he is stronger than these two, able to reach a higher level than these two.
But Mendes had his own judgment and the highest expectations for the players in his agency. He felt that with the current momentum, anything was possible.
If someone insisted on arguing with him, he would ask, can you find a comparable star in football history for this age with this kind of data and performance? No need to talk about injuries! No need to talk about major changes!
Just look at his performance!
Mendes knew everything about Maël. He knew how this player demanded of himself in peacetime and how much effort he put in to avoid these accidents.
He, is likely to keep moving forward! Abramovich slumped on the sofa, looking at the game with a lifeless expression.
Mendes didn't speak anymore, and the two of them just silently watched the field, time passing by minute by minute.
...
"Bang!"
In the 81st minute of the match, Maël retreated to receive the ball and passed it to Alexandre Song, then sprinted forward, running towards the penalty area.
Alexandre Song didn't pass the ball immediately. From the angle of the box, his handling of the ball seemed a bit slow, but it seemed to be deliberately dawdling, waiting for something.
"Bang!"
Finally, when Maël entered the penalty area, his Frequency of movement began to accelerate, and a long pass was lobbed towards the right side of the penalty area.
He was waiting for Maël! This kid wants to get another assist!
The football whistled into the penalty area. Maël was standing in the center, slightly to the right, the open space he had chosen when he came in from behind.
However, somewhat unfortunately, the ball was passed a bit too far, and it was also passed behind Maël's body direction.
It looked like Terry, who was about to chase back to his side, would undoubtedly clear the ball.
Just then, Maël suddenly twisted his body and turned backward. In the process of running, this action often leads to players losing their balance.
But Maël didn't, his center of gravity was not only very stable, but he also raised his right leg during the turn, raising it to about his head position, and hooked it backward towards the incoming ball! Like a taekwondo back spinning kick, he gracefully used a spinning kick to hook the ball while running! No one expected him to complete the shot in this way, not even goalkeeper Čech. The football smashed into the net before anyone could react.
Another goal! A juggling goal! Four-two! "Oh!" Mendes jumped up, holding his head, his expression changing from astonishment to intoxication, and then from intoxication to ecstasy.
This time he couldn't help it! An absolutely brilliant goal! Abramovich closed his eyes tightly and slammed his right fist on the wooden table, "Bang!"
His female assistant silently retreated. If she didn't retreat, she was likely to become Abramovich's punching bag.
Sorry for the late update, I was hungry and had a meal
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