Chapter 8: Chapter 8: The Match Begins!

The following day, at Arsenal’s Korni Training Base.

Inside the U17 training ground, cameras on high stands were set up early to prepare for the recording of footage later.

An intense showdown belonging to the young lads is about to begin here!

At 3 PM, Arsenal U17 players appeared on the field and started their warm-up training.

Soon after, Liverpool’s young players arrived by coach, walked into the field, and immediately began to change clothes and warm up.

In the well-established youth training system of European Football, even such away-friendly matches for youth teams are not surprising.

The clubs are generous in their investment in youth teams, sparing no effort to create a better growth environment for young players.

Because as long as a good prospect is cultivated, the returns will be thousands of times multiplied!

Over ten minutes later, some Arsenal fans who heard the news gradually flowed in from the sidelines.

Most of them were holding popcorn and beer, all ready to comfortably watch the match.

“Come on, lads!”

“You can definitely win! Whether you’re trial players or contract players!”

“Beat Liverpool!”

“…”

Arsenal fans shouted loudly, and those who came to watch the youth team matches were mostly die-hard fans of the team.

They are willing to give everything to support the team and focus on its future.

Unlike usual, today saw a particularly large crowd, a full three hundred people.

It seemed they had heard the news that Mr. Wenger would be present, planning to catch a glimpse of the first-team manager up close.

“Oh… he’s here, he’s really here!”

It didn’t take long for a tall figure to appear suddenly at the entrance of the field, he walked gracefully towards the team’s coaching seat, preparing to sit with the match-commanding coach.

“Clap clap clap clap…” A roar of applause erupted, this was the fans’ way of expressing their love and support for Wenger.

Upon hearing their applause, Wenger turned around to greet the fans on the stands, causing another stir.

However, a few people in the corner of the fan section with calm expressions caught his attention.

They were middle-aged men around their forties, dressed very seriously, holding a notebook and a pen.

Scouts?

Wenger glanced at them deeply and turned his head away.

If they were thinking about loans, he would welcome their visit and gladly accept.

But if they wanted to poach a few players to their own club, he wouldn’t show them any friendliness.

“He just saw us.”

On the stands, a scout from Leeds United smiled and reminded the person next to him, “Should we tell him that we want their U17 captain, Gilbert?”

“Looking for trouble, don’t you know Mr. Wenger hates this the most?”

A Sheffield United scout frowned at him, “Also, I estimate Gilbert will move up to the first team in the next year or two, he won’t follow us, only a loan is possible.”

“Not necessarily.”

A Burnley scout joined the topic, speaking eloquently, “If you can offer a high price, given Arsenal’s finances and character, they shouldn’t refuse.”

“Try buying first-team players like Fabregas, Wilshere then?” Sheffield United scout retorted him, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t do that, but getting a few youth team players is simple.”

The Burnley scout smiled and said, “Alright, it’s starting soon, let’s say less, scouts rely on their abilities to spot players.”

Those nearby turned their attention to the field, hoping to discover one or two good prospects through this match.

…

At 3:30 PM, players on both sides opened up the battle in the field.

Ma’el stood on the left side of Arsenal’s formation as a winger, he roughly observed Liverpool’s formation, a traditional 4-2-3-1.

This should be following their first-team manager Benitez’s in terms of tactics, with high pressing upfront, forcing Arsenal’s backfield to struggle with easy ball distribution.

“There will be many high balls, but heading is not my strength, need to pay more attention to second balls after the aerial duels.”

Ma’el made a judgment in his mind, he was just waiting to get the ball, ready to take a shot at Liverpool’s goal.

Glancing at the opponent’s goalkeeper, he smiled slightly, a bit expectant.

“Whistle!!”

Soon the referee blew the whistle signaling the official start of the match.

In the first half, Liverpool U17 gained possession of the ball; their black center forward kicked the ball back.

“Press! Midfield push up near the halfway line, be careful not to press high!”

Arsenal captain Gilbert waved to direct his teammates, leading players of three lines to run forward and apply pressure.

However, they did not adopt a high pressing tactic.

Liverpool’s playing style has always been straightforward and forceful, being too forward means the defensive line would face great pressure from balls played over the top.

“Bang! Bang!”

In the backfield, Liverpool’s simple passing twice quickly led to a long pass aimed towards Arsenal’s backfield flank, attempting to push the attacking line forward.

This ball was cleared out of bounds by Arsenal’s right-back using a header, posing no threat.

But Liverpool’s tactical goal had been achieved; all their players were squeezed into Arsenal’s backfield right flank, waiting for an opportunity.

Ma’el was furthest from his own right side, he didn’t pay much attention to the team’s defense but continued to observe the Liverpool defender marking him.

He was waiting for a chance to receive the ball.

“Bang!”

Liverpool’s attack ultimately ended with a crossing; the cross lacked quality, directly caught by Arsenal’s goalkeeper Hopkins.

Hopkins roughly observed, seeing a large number of Liverpool players accumulating in his own half, he discarded any short pass ideas.

With one hand, he tossed the ball up, turned sideways, and volleyed the ball to the front field, searching for Gilbert positioned in the center.

Don’t be fooled by Gilbert wearing number 10, his height is a solid 187, he has some ability to contest headers.

“Schlock!” After jumping up, Gilbert nudged the ball backward, attempting to catch Liverpool’s defense off-guard.

This kind of backward flick keeps accuracy; hopeful that, before the other side can respond, it might directly chip one over them for teammates to chase.

Landing on the ground, Gilbert quickly turned his head to observe the situation in the front field.

He saw the ball land on the left flank, where Ma’el was racing against the opposing defender.

“My ball!”

The Liverpool defender was obviously running a bit faster, catching up with the ball first, preparing to return it to the goalkeeper.

But Ma’el reacted promptly; upon realizing he couldn’t catch up, he directly gave up chasing and surged towards the opponent.

This defender was more of a frail, agile type of full-back, judging from appearance his ability to withstand physical challenges was almost nil.

“Thump!”

The muffled sound of body contact echoed, the Liverpool defender suddenly plunged to the ground like a kite with a broken string, immediately gesturing to the referee in indignation, “Hey! No foul?!”

Shaking his head, the referee signaled no foul, instructed him to get up.

Quickly bracing his hand on the ground trying to rise, but Ma’el had already dribbled past him cutting towards the center.

“Bang!!”

Stepping into the shooting range, Ma’el did not hesitate, drawing the bow and firing the first shot of the entire match today.

Compared to before, his adjustment speed this time was quick, delivering a decent quality strike.

The ball just skimmed over the top of the crossbar, seeing Liverpool’s goalkeeper’s dumbfounded expression surely indicated, had the shot been on target, there should’ve been no problem scoring.

“Keep going!”

Having had a shot, Ma’el’s confidence soared again, increasing his desire for possession.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep