The King Of Arsenal

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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)

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Only after applauding every corner of the Emirates did the players finally turn toward the tunnel, disappearing beneath the stands with tired legs, another important victory secured, and the belief inside the club growing a little stronger with every passing week.

The applause followed Arsenal all the way toward the tunnel.

Even as the players disappeared beneath the stands, the sound refused to fade.

Supporters remained in their seats, scarves held high, still singing long after the final whistle.

It was becoming a familiar sight.

The Carabao Cup triumph had reignited something inside the Arsenal faithful, and a convincing 3-1 league victory over Manchester City only strengthened the belief growing around the club.

The walk back down the Emirates tunnel was a mixture of relief and satisfaction.

Studs clicked against the concrete floor.

Players exchanged handshakes with stewards and members of staff waiting along the corridor.

"Well done, lads."

"Brilliant performance."

"Congratulations."

Walker stretched his arms above his head.

"I don't know about anyone else…"

"…but I am starving."

Robertson laughed beside him.

"You've been starving since breakfast."

"That doesn't make it less true."

Alexis shook his head.

"I've never met someone who talks about food after every match."

Walker pointed proudly at himself.

"Recovery nutrition."

"That's my excuse."

Laughter rolled through the group.

The tension of ninety difficult minutes was already beginning to melt away.

As they approached the dressing-room corridor, Arsenal's media officer stepped out from a side room with a headset resting around his neck.

"Francesco."

He looked apologetic.

"Sorry."

"They need you first."

Francesco slowed.

"The flash interview?"

The media officer nodded.

"Just a few minutes."

"And…"

He smiled.

"They've got something waiting for you."

Walker immediately nudged Francesco with his elbow.

"I bet I know what that is."

Francesco smiled.

"I've got a feeling you do."

Walker folded his arms dramatically.

"Don't forget us little people."

"I'll try."

"You won't."

Robertson called over his shoulder.

"We'll save your shower."

Walker grinned.

"If Alexis hasn't used all the hot water."

Alexis looked offended.

"I've done nothing."

"Yet," Walker replied.

The players disappeared toward the dressing room while Francesco followed the media officer into the mixed-zone interview area.

Bright television lights immediately greeted him.

Several cameras were already positioned in front of a branded Premier League backdrop.

A production assistant clipped a microphone onto the collar of his Arsenal shirt.

"We'll be live in thirty seconds."

Francesco nodded.

"No problem."

Across from him, the interviewer smiled warmly.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

The familiar countdown began.

"Five…"

"Four…"

"Three…"

The red camera light illuminated.

The presenter turned toward the lens.

"We're joined now by Arsenal captain for the afternoon, Francesco, after another outstanding victory over Manchester City."

He smiled.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you very much."

"You've just beaten Manchester City for the second time in a matter of days."

"How are you feeling?"

Francesco let out a quiet breath before answering.

"Tired."

The interviewer laughed.

"I think everyone expected that answer."

"So am I."

Francesco smiled.

"It was a very difficult match."

"City are one of the best teams in Europe."

"They reacted well after Wembley."

"We knew they'd come here wanting a response."

"So we're very pleased with the performance."

The interviewer nodded.

"You scored twice."

"The first was another excellent run from Mesut Özil's pass."

"The second came from Serge Gnabry."

He glanced toward the replay playing on a nearby monitor.

"Which one did you enjoy more?"

Francesco looked at the screen for a moment.

"They're different."

"The first came because Mesut spotted the run early."

"The second was all about Serge's delivery."

He smiled.

"My job was to arrive in the right place."

The interviewer grinned.

"You make it sound very simple."

Francesco laughed.

"I promise it isn't."

Another replay showed his second goal from several angles.

The presenter continued.

"You were captain today."

"Did that responsibility change anything?"

Francesco shook his head.

"Not really."

"We've got a lot of leaders in this dressing room."

"Whether someone wears the armband or not…"

"…everyone takes responsibility."

"I was proud to wear it."

"But I was surrounded by experienced players who helped throughout the game."

The interviewer nodded thoughtfully.

"Your manager spoke at half-time about continuing to attack."

"It certainly looked that way."

Francesco smiled.

"The boss always tells us to be brave."

"We scored the third goal."

"After that we managed the match much better."

"We stayed patient."

"We defended together."

"And we saw the game out."

The presenter glanced toward the camera again.

"One final question."

"People are already talking about Arsenal challenging for every trophy this season."

"We've heard the word 'quadruple' mentioned a lot over the past few days."

Francesco smiled knowingly.

"We're hearing it too."

A few journalists nearby chuckled.

"But inside our dressing room…"

"…we're only thinking about the next match."

"That's the only way you survive a season."

"If you start looking months ahead…"

"…football usually reminds you to stay humble."

The interviewer nodded with genuine appreciation.

"A very sensible answer."

He reached beneath the presentation desk before lifting a small black-and-silver trophy.

"There's one more thing."

"After today's performance…"

"…the supporters, broadcasters and Premier League panel have voted you the Player of the Match."

"Congratulations."

Applause broke out from the production crew.

Francesco accepted the award with both hands.

"Thank you very much."

"It's an honour."

"But this belongs to the whole team."

"I'll happily keep it…"

"…but everyone contributed today."

The interviewer laughed.

"I thought you might say that."

"Congratulations again."

"Enjoy the evening."

"Thank you."

As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, several crew members congratulated him personally.

"Brilliant game."

"Two great finishes."

"Well deserved."

Francesco thanked each of them before making his way back down the corridor, the Player of the Match trophy tucked comfortably beneath one arm.

The dressing-room door was already half-open.

Before he even stepped inside, Walker spotted him.

"There he is!"

"I knew it!"

The entire room turned.

Walker pointed dramatically at the trophy.

"I told everyone!"

Alexis clapped loudly.

"Well deserved."

Giroud nodded with a smile.

"Congratulations."

Francesco laughed, slightly embarrassed by the attention.

"Thanks."

Walker walked over, pretending to inspect the award.

"Hmm."

"I suppose it's acceptable."

"You've only scored two goals."

"I was expecting three."

Robertson threw a towel at him.

"Leave him alone."

Francesco walked over to his locker.

He carefully placed the black Player of the Match trophy beside yesterday's recovery notes and his folded captain's armband.

For a second he looked at it quietly.

Carabao Cup winner.

Brace against Manchester City.

Player of the Match.

It had been quite a week.

He smiled to himself before grabbing a clean towel from the shelf above.

"I'm getting a shower before Walker starts talking again."

Walker looked offended.

"I've hardly said anything."

The room erupted into laughter.

The shower room quickly filled with steam.

Hot water washed away ninety minutes of effort.

The aches in tired muscles slowly began easing beneath the warmth.

Nearby, Ramsey leaned against the tiled wall.

"My legs feel much heavier today than they did on Wednesday."

Walker answered from the next shower.

"That's because City made us work harder."

Alexis laughed.

"Or because you're getting old."

"I'm younger than Olivier."

Giroud immediately replied.

"Leave me out of this."

Francesco simply listened, smiling to himself.

These moments were part of football too.

Not the cameras.

Not the trophies.

Just teammates relaxing after another difficult afternoon together.

Eventually the showers began switching off one by one.

Players dried themselves before changing into matching Arsenal tracksuits.

Fresh trainers replaced muddy boots.

Most of the squad were already discussing food again.

Walker, unsurprisingly, led the conversation.

"I'm ordering two dinners."

Robertson looked at him.

"Why?"

"Recovery."

"That's becoming your answer for everything."

"It works."

Francesco had just zipped up his tracksuit when there was a knock at the dressing-room door.

Tony Colbert stepped inside.

"Francesco."

"The boss needs you."

He looked up.

"Now?"

"Press conference."

Francesco nodded.

"I'll be there."

Walker grinned.

"Behave yourself."

"I always do."

Alexis laughed.

"That's not true."

Outside the dressing room, Wenger was already waiting.

The French manager smiled.

"Ready?"

Francesco nodded.

"Ready."

Together they walked through the media corridor toward the press conference room.

As always after a major Premier League match, journalists from England and overseas had filled almost every seat.

Television cameras pointed toward the long table at the front.

Club officials welcomed Wenger and Francesco before they took their seats.

The moderator adjusted the microphone.

"We'll begin."

Immediately, hands rose across the room.

The first reporter stood.

"Arsène, congratulations."

"Another victory over Manchester City."

"What pleased you most today?"

Wenger folded his hands.

"Our discipline."

"We played very well with the ball."

"But what pleased me equally was how we defended after taking the lead."

"We remained organised."

"We didn't become emotional."

Another journalist looked toward Francesco.

"You scored twice and captained Arsenal."

"How satisfying was today's performance after the cup final?"

Francesco answered calmly.

"It was important to show Wednesday wasn't a one-off."

"Manchester City are an outstanding team."

"We expected them to respond."

"So today's performance required full concentration."

Another reporter asked,

"Did the Carabao Cup victory give Arsenal extra confidence?"

Francesco thought for a moment.

"I think confidence comes from preparation."

"Winning helps."

"But every match starts at zero."

"We had to earn today's result all over again."

Several reporters scribbled notes.

A Spanish journalist then addressed Wenger.

"You substituted Francesco after his second goal."

"Were you already thinking ahead?"

Wenger smiled.

"I was thinking about the calendar."

A ripple of laughter moved through the room.

"We have many important matches."

"When a player has worked as hard as he did today…"

"…sometimes protecting him is also part of managing."

Another reporter looked back toward Francesco.

"Everyone outside the club is talking about the possibility of Arsenal winning four trophies."

"Does the squad discuss that?"

Francesco smiled.

"No."

The room laughed softly.

"We discuss training."

"We discuss the next opponent."

"And occasionally…"

He glanced sideways toward Wenger.

"…we discuss whether Kyle Walker talks too much."

The entire room burst into laughter.

Even Wenger chuckled.

"I'm afraid that discussion happens quite often."

The laughter eased the atmosphere.

One final question came from the back.

"What does today's victory say about this Arsenal team?"

Francesco answered without hesitation.

"It says we recovered well."

"It says we're improving."

"But it doesn't guarantee anything."

"We've earned another three points."

"Nothing more."

"We'll enjoy tonight."

"Tomorrow we'll focus on what's next."

Wenger looked briefly toward his captain.

Then nodded almost imperceptibly.

It was exactly the mentality he wanted.

The moderator stood.

"Thank you, everyone."

"That's all."

Flashbulbs lit the room one last time before Wenger and Francesco stood, shook hands with a few journalists in the front row and quietly left.

Outside, evening had settled over North London.

The team coach waited beside the stadium with its engine already running.

Most of the players had found their usual seats.

Walker looked up as Francesco climbed aboard.

"There he is."

"Our celebrity."

Francesco rolled his eyes.

"It was twenty minutes."

Walker pointed toward an empty seat.

"Still longer than the rest of us."

Ramsey smiled.

"How was it?"

"Lots of questions."

"And?"

"I gave lots of answers."

Walker nodded thoughtfully.

"Sounds exhausting."

The bus filled with quiet laughter.

A few moments later Wenger climbed aboard as well.

He thanked the driver before taking his usual seat near the front.

The doors closed.

Slowly, the coach pulled away from the Emirates Stadium.

Outside, supporters waiting near the exit applauded as the team bus rolled past, waving scarves and raising their phones one final time.

Inside, the mood was relaxed.

Some players watched highlights of the match on tablets provided by the club.

Others leaned back with headphones on, already beginning to recover.

Francesco looked out through the window as North London drifted past beneath the evening lights.

Another victory.

Another performance to remember.

The week had begun with silverware at Wembley.

It ended with an important Premier League statement against the same opponents.

As the lights of London slowly gave way to the quieter roads leading toward London Colney, conversation gradually faded.

Fatigue finally caught up with the squad.

The smiles remained.

Then two days passed quietly after Arsenal's impressive victory over Manchester City.

The first day had belonged entirely to recovery.

Arsène Wenger had once again given his players a well-earned break, insisting that both their bodies and minds needed time to reset after an exhausting run of fixtures.

No one argued.

Some players spent the day with their families.

Others stayed at home watching football, sleeping far longer than they normally could, or simply enjoying the rare feeling of waking up without checking a training schedule.

Francesco's day had been wonderfully uneventful.

He and Leah had stayed at the Richmond mansion for most of the afternoon, taking a long walk through the nearby park before returning home to cook dinner together.

For a few precious hours, football had disappeared from the conversation.

No tactics.

No interviews.

No transfer rumours.

Just two young people enjoying each other's company.

By the following morning, however, the familiar routine had quietly returned.

The alarm sounded before sunrise.

Training bags were packed.

Recovery shakes were finished.

Boots were checked one final time.

The break was over.

Football had called again.

A thin layer of frost still covered the grass surrounding London Colney when the first cars began arriving shortly after eight o'clock.

The training complex looked peaceful beneath the pale winter sky.

Steam drifted from mugs carried by members of staff walking between buildings.

Groundskeepers performed their final inspections of the pitches, making sure every blade of grass was ready.

Inside the main entrance, players gradually filtered through reception.

Ramsey arrived carrying a coffee almost as large as his head.

"Morning."

"Morning."

Walker followed a minute later, immediately rubbing his hands together.

"It is freezing."

Robertson looked outside through the glass doors.

"It's February."

"I know."

"I still don't like it."

Alexis walked past them carrying his boots over one shoulder.

"You complain in winter."

"You complain in summer."

Walker nodded.

"Consistency."

"I've always said it's important."

Ramsey laughed.

"I don't think that's what consistency means."

"It is for me."

More laughter echoed around reception.

The relaxed atmosphere from the previous week's victories hadn't disappeared.

If anything, confidence had made everyone even more comfortable around one another.

A few moments later Francesco stepped through the entrance, his training bag slung over one shoulder.

"Morning."

Several teammates greeted him immediately.

"Morning, Skip."

"Morning, captain."

Walker pointed dramatically.

"There he is."

"Our Player of the Match."

Francesco shook his head.

"I knew you'd still be talking about that."

"I'm planning to mention it until next week."

"Please don't."

"No promises."

Before Walker could continue, Wenger appeared from the corridor leading toward the coaching offices.

The conversations immediately softened.

The manager smiled as he looked around his assembled squad.

"Good morning."

"Morning, boss," several voices answered together.

"I hope everyone enjoyed the day off."

Walker answered first.

"I recovered."

Wenger looked at him.

"Completely?"

"No."

"I recovered enough."

That earned another smile from the manager.

"That will have to do."

He glanced at his watch.

"We begin in ten minutes."

"Meeting room."

The tactical meeting room slowly filled with players carrying notebooks and water bottles.

Unlike many clubs, Wenger encouraged players to take notes whenever they wanted.

Some rarely did.

Others filled entire pages.

Francesco usually sat near the front beside Özil and Kanté.

Today was no different.

Once everyone had settled, Wenger dimmed the lights slightly.

A Champions League logo appeared across the large screen at the front of the room.

Immediately, the mood changed.

European nights always felt different.

There was a quiet respect attached to them.

Wenger allowed the image to remain on the screen for several seconds before speaking.

"Champions League."

No one needed reminding.

Every player understood what those words meant.

He clicked the remote.

Highlights from the first leg in Portugal appeared.

Goals.

Fast passing.

Counter-attacks.

Clinical finishing.

One after another, Arsenal's six goals replayed across the screen.

It had been one of their finest European performances in years.

When the final highlight faded, the scoreboard remained.

Porto 0-6 Arsenal.

The room stayed silent.

Then Wenger spoke.

"If anyone believes this tie is already finished…"

He paused.

"…they will not play."

Nobody moved.

The message landed immediately.

The manager continued.

"I have seen football produce impossible results."

"I have seen teams believe qualification was guaranteed."

"And I have seen those same teams leave the competition."

He folded his arms.

"Our advantage is significant."

"Very significant."

"But our mentality cannot change."

Francesco nodded quietly.

He had expected exactly this approach.

Wenger never allowed scorelines to influence preparation.

The next slide appeared.

Porto's likely tactical shape.

Their recent league form.

Set-piece routines.

Attacking patterns.

"We must respect them."

"They have nothing to lose."

"That makes them dangerous."

He pointed toward Porto's attacking areas.

"If they score early…"

"The stadium becomes nervous."

"Their belief returns."

"So what do we do?"

Before anyone answered, Kanté quietly spoke.

"We don't let them."

Several players smiled.

Wenger nodded.

"Exactly."

"We start quickly."

"We control possession."

"We deny them hope."

Another clip began playing.

Porto's pressing triggers.

Their wide combinations.

Their attempts to overload the flanks.

Every detail was examined.

Every movement discussed.

Nearly forty-five minutes later, Wenger switched the projector off.

"Questions?"

Van Dijk raised one concerning defensive positioning against Porto's forwards.

Walker asked about overlapping responsibilities if Porto committed more players forward.

Özil wanted clarification regarding pressing from goal kicks.

Each question was answered patiently.

Only when Wenger was satisfied that everyone understood did he close his notebook.

"Good."

"Now…"

He smiled slightly.

"Let's go outside."

The cold hit immediately as the squad stepped onto the training pitches.

Several players instinctively pulled their training jackets tighter.

Their breath became visible in the crisp morning air.

Tony Colbert clapped his hands loudly.

"Right!"

"Warm-up."

The session began with gentle jogging around the perimeter of the pitch.

Cones had already been laid out in neat patterns.

Fitness coaches led mobility exercises before progressing into dynamic stretching.

Despite the chilly weather, the mood remained lively.

Walker, naturally, couldn't stay quiet for long.

"Whose idea was winter football?"

Robertson answered without looking up from his stretches.

"Someone tougher than you."

"I'm plenty tough."

Alexis laughed.

"You wore gloves before everyone else."

"My hands get cold."

"They're supposed to."

"They're not."

Nearby, Francesco completed his stretches beside Kanté.

"You feeling recovered?" he asked.

The French midfielder smiled.

"Mostly."

"My legs finally forgave me."

Francesco laughed.

"Mine took an extra day."

"I noticed."

"You were walking carefully yesterday."

"I wasn't walking carefully."

"You definitely were."

"Maybe a little."

Once the warm-up finished, the footballs finally appeared.

Immediately, the energy lifted another level.

Nothing made footballers happier than actually having a ball at their feet.

The first drill focused entirely on possession.

Two-touch football.

Quick movement.

Constant communication.

"No standing still," Steve Bould reminded.

"The ball moves."

"You move."

One group consisted of Francesco, Özil, Cazorla, Kanté, Ramsey and Alexis.

Watching them exchange passes was almost hypnotic.

The ball rarely stopped.

One touch.

Another.

Outside of the boot.

Backheel.

Quick triangle.

Kanté intercepted a pass before instantly finding Özil.

The German flicked it behind himself without looking.

Francesco had already anticipated it.

His first touch redirected the ball toward Alexis.

The Chilean smiled.

"Again."

Within seconds the sequence repeated.

Wenger watched quietly from the edge of the pitch.

He rarely interrupted when the rhythm looked this good.

Instead, he simply observed.

Occasionally making a note.

Occasionally offering a quiet word.

"Excellent, Mesut."

"Good angle, Francesco."

"Faster, Granit."

After nearly thirty minutes, the possession drills evolved into tactical work.

The coaching staff positioned mannequins to simulate Porto's defensive shape.

The objective wasn't to score spectacular goals.

It was to remain patient.

To move opponents.

To avoid unnecessary risks.

"We already have the advantage," Wenger reminded them.

"So don't force the impossible pass."

"If it's not there…"

He pointed backward.

"Recycle."

"Start again."

The players followed the instructions carefully.

Cech regularly began attacks from deep.

Van Dijk switched play with long diagonal passes.

Robertson and Walker alternated their overlapping runs.

Özil drifted into pockets of space exactly as expected.

Francesco constantly checked his shoulders before making sharp movements across the defensive line.

Everything looked measured.

Professional.

No one behaved as though six goals meant the work was already finished.

In fact, if anything, the opposite seemed true.

The memory of previous European disappointments still lingered around Arsenal.

Nobody wanted to give Porto even the smallest opportunity to dream of an impossible comeback.

During a short water break, Walker dropped onto a football with an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm exhausted already."

Robertson looked at him.

"We've been training for forty minutes."

"I know."

"It's very emotional."

Ramsey chuckled.

"What part?"

"The running."

Alexis threw a bib at him.

"Stand up."

Walker caught it with a grin.

"I was just resting."

"You rest too much."

"I call it conserving energy."

Francesco laughed along with the others.

These little conversations never distracted from the work.

If anything, they made difficult training sessions feel lighter.

The final exercise of the morning was an eleven-versus-eleven tactical game.

The coaches frequently stopped play.

Not because mistakes were happening.

Because details mattered.

A body position.

A passing angle.

The timing of a press.

"When Porto build here…"

Wenger explained, moving players into position himself.

"Francesco, don't chase the centre-back."

"Cut off the passing lane instead."

"Force them wide."

Francesco nodded.

"Got it."

They restarted.

This time the press worked perfectly.

Walker forced possession toward the touchline.

Kanté anticipated the next pass.

Within seconds Arsenal had recovered the ball.

"Better," Wenger called.

"Much better."

The session continued for another half hour before the whistle finally blew.

Training complete.

Players applauded the coaching staff before walking slowly back toward the main building.

Their boots were muddy.

Their legs were tired again.

But mentally, everyone looked sharp.

As they reached the entrance, Wenger called the squad together one last time.

The conversations stopped immediately.

The manager looked around at every face.

"I liked today's session."

"You respected the work."

"You respected the opponent."

He paused briefly.

"That is exactly what I expected."

His eyes briefly settled on Francesco before moving across the group again.

"We lead six-nil."

"But when the referee blows the whistle tomorrow night…"

"The score becomes irrelevant."

"We play to win."

"Nothing less."

Several players nodded.

"Recover well this afternoon."

"Study your clips."

"We meet again tomorrow."

As the squad began dispersing toward the changing rooms, Francesco glanced across the training pitches one last time.

In football, momentum could disappear as quickly as it arrived.

The Carabao Cup celebrations were already behind them.

The victory over Manchester City was now part of the past.

Ahead waited another European night under the Emirates lights.

The advantage was enormous.

Six goals.

One foot in the quarter-finals.

But inside London Colney, nobody spoke like qualification was guaranteed.

That was exactly the culture Wenger had built.

Respect every opponent and every match, then earn everything all over again.

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Name : Francesco Lee

Age : 19 (2017)

Birthplace : London, England

Football Club : Arsenal First Team

Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, and 2017/2018 Carabao Cup.

Season 17/18 stats:

Arsenal:

Match: 43

Goal: 51

Assist: 6

MOTM: 5

POTM: 0

England:

Match: 2

Goal: 2

Assist: 0

MOTM: 1

Season 16/17 stats:

Arsenal:

Match: 55

Goal: 87

Assist: 5

MOTM: 14

POTM: 1

England:

Match: 1

Goal: 1

Assist: 0

MOTM: 0

Season 15/16 stats:

Arsenal:

Match Played: 60

Goal: 82

Assist: 10

MOTM: 9

POTM: 1

England:

Match Played: 2

Goal: 4

Assist: 0

Euro 2016

Match Played: 6

Goal: 13

Assist: 4

MOTM: 6

Season 14/15 stats:

Match Played: 35

Goal: 45

Assist: 12

MOTM: 9