First Goal!

First Goal!

Goal! One-one!

Maël's shot pulled Arsenal U17 level, putting both sides back on the same starting line.

"Yeah...!!"

"Oh-ho! He really has got something. Who's that kid?"

"Brilliant!"

The Arsenal fans by the pitch instantly burst into cheers. Quite a few rose to their feet and applauded, celebrating Maël's goal.

Though they were only watching, they could still clearly feel the thrill of that powerful shot tearing into the net.

In their hearts, this team was not only the club's team, but also their team; these kids were their future too.

Someone even shouted encouragement to Maël, saying they hoped to see him in the First Team.

On the coaching bench, Hans quickly stood and applauded, joy on his face as he stared fixedly at Maël's back.

It was hard to tell whether he was happier that the team had equalized, or that he had seen Maël's recent, frantic improvement.

"A very good Long Shot."

A somewhat sudden voice rang out from just behind him. It was Mr. Wenger, and he had actually spoken first. "That all comes from his recent Long Shot practice, doesn't it?"

"I think so, Mr. Wenger."

There was obvious surprise in Hans's expression. He had not known that Wenger was also paying some attention to Maël. "I've reminded him many times to pay more attention to his body and not overdo his training, but I still can't stop him.

"He seems to have a kind of obsession. He won't stop until he reaches his goal. I don't know if it has something to do with his family environment."

Wenger nodded and said subconsciously, "If possible, have him—"

As if sensing that it was a little inappropriate to say that, he immediately changed his words. "Forget it. You're the U17 head coach. I shouldn't be saying these things."

Hans did not reply, but he already understood something.

To be honest, after that goal, his view was already almost identical to Mr. Wenger's.

Near Liverpool's penalty area, Arsenal's players saw the ball hit the net, their expressions brightening one after another as they exclaimed and rushed toward Maël.

"Beautiful!!"

"I knew that shot had to go in!"

"One-one makes this much easier."

Most of them had already been won over by Maël's improved ability. Only stubborn ones like Ian were still staying in the back line, neither coming over nor saying anything.

After scoring, Maël laughed loudly. He felt a flame of excitement ignite in his heart, and power surged through his whole body, driving him to run toward the corner flag to celebrate.

He did not know whether he had learned it from the stars he saw on television, or whether it was simply instinct when someone was excited.

In short, the feeling of scoring was very good!

"Technically, it wasn't my assist."

Captain Gilbert was the first to run to his side and lift him high into the air. "But I did win the Corner Kick, so I still had a bit of involvement."

"There'll be more."

Maël smiled confidently. He felt that this match would not end like this.

After the brief celebration ended, the match returned to its proper course.

Once the match passed the thirty-minute mark and the players on both sides slowly adapted to each other's Rhythm, the balance on the pitch gradually began to tilt toward Liverpool.

After all, they had sent out their full main lineup this time, while Arsenal had only four main players.

At the start, perhaps everyone had played rather conservatively and by the book, but once they opened up, some gaps slowly began to show.

Bang!!

Whoosh!!

That gap gradually showed itself in the flow of the game as well. Liverpool launched dangerous attacks again and again, and for a time Arsenal's goal was beset on all sides, with balls constantly flying in at speed.

In the forty-fourth minute, Liverpool's second goal arrived.

Bang!

They produced a wave of attacking momentum in the front third, first completing a headed shot from a Cross from the byline. After Arsenal Goalkeeper Hopkins saved the ball, Liverpool's No. 9 immediately followed up with a rebound shot.

Clang! That shot was unlucky, smashing against the post and flying back into the penalty area.

Fortunately, another Liverpool Midfielder had followed up and finished it off with a clean instep shot.

Two-one!

The Liverpool players once again rushed toward the touchline with beaming smiles. The goalscorer secretly turned his head to look toward Mr. Wenger on the sideline, hoping to catch his attention.

But at that moment, how could Wenger have any time to pay attention to them? He was frowning at the team's central and back-line defense, the corners of his eyes filled with disappointment.

In their own penalty area, they had given up two consecutive second balls. That was a fairly fatal mistake.

"Track back! We don't have enough numbers!"

On the pitch, Ian spread his hands, his face full of anxious frustration, as if he had no one he could carry. "We've been pressing them for ages, and still nobody's coming back."

"Including the goalkeeper, we've got eight men around the box. That's not exactly few."

Captain Gilbert glared at him, already feeling some disgust toward him. The moment they conceded, he started yelling. Who was he trying to make look bad?

"If we had all our starters on, we wouldn't have conceded that."

Ian refused to let it go, flaunting his sense of superiority. Especially after seeing quite a few trialists lower their heads in self-blame, he only grew worse. "I really don't know how some people play football, or how they even put on an Arsenal shirt."

This time, it was not only Gilbert, Maël, and the others who felt disgust toward him.

Even Wenger on the sideline turned to glance at Hans. "This person..."

"I'll deal with him once I get down."

Hans gritted his teeth in silence, practically wanting to send Ian straight to hell.

And what Arsenal were suffering at this moment was far from over. After the fifteen-minute halftime break, the second half began.

Liverpool continued launching fierce attacks. Their attacking players seemed to have figured out Arsenal's true level and pushed forward in force, wanting to keep the entire fight for possession in Arsenal's half.

Bang!!

In the fifty-first minute, Liverpool's Number 6 Captain, a defensive midfielder, suddenly unleashed a shot out of nowhere, returning the favor with a long-range strike.

Ian hurried forward and slid in to block it, but when things were going badly, even drinking water could get stuck between your teeth. The ball hit the outside of his calf and deflected, catching Goalkeeper Hopkins completely off guard.

Another goal! Three-one!

"Ah!" Ian was about to turn dark. After getting up, he lowered his head and stood rooted to the spot with his hands on his hips.

For the time being, he put Maël and the others to the back of his mind and thought of his own future. Judging by today's performance, it was definitely unlikely that Wenger would take a liking to him.

He felt a little annoyed, a little regretful. He should have focused more on playing football right from the start.

"Throw the ball over. There's still time, but don't waste it all on regrets."

A urging voice came from the front line. It was Maël's voice. He seemed far from giving up.

Goalkeeper Hopkins picked the ball out and kicked it to Maël, giving him a thumbs-up as well.

"Damn it."

Ian's mood sank. He was extremely jealous that Maël already had a goal to his name. If he could have a highlight performance too, then however many goals the team conceded would have nothing to do with him.

"Beep!"

The match then restarted. Arsenal's fighting spirit had clearly been knocked down, with only a few people still carrying battle intent in their eyes.

After the restart, they did not keep possession for long before it was taken away again by Liverpool's players, who began laying siege to them.

As if trapped in a dead loop, the Arsenal players could not find any breakthrough at all and looked somewhat powerless.

Until the sixty-seventh minute, when team captain Gilbert received a layoff from Maël and began his own performance.

Bang, bang, bang...

He dribbled straight toward Liverpool's back line, touching the ball at high frequency with the outside of his right foot, his center of gravity constantly shifting as he made deceptive movements.

One Touch and Dribble, then another cut, then he pushed the ball forward! In an instant, he broke out from the encirclement of three Liverpool players and charged into their penalty area.

Bang!

The final Side-Foot Shot was like the perfect finishing move to a magnificent waltz, light and elegant.

Two-three! There was still a chance!

With one highlight moment, Captain Gilbert showed why he was Arsenal's captain, and why he had been chosen to anchor the spine of the team today.