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...
And Arsenal had made their first statement with three points, and there were thirty-seven more league matches waiting for them to win.
The celebrations at the Emirates eventually began to fade.
Not immediately.
For a while, the stadium remained alive even after the players had disappeared down the tunnel. Supporters lingered in the stands, reluctant to leave, replaying the goals in their minds and talking excitedly about another victory over Manchester City.
Inside the dressing room, however, the mood was beginning to settle.
The players had showered, changed and finally allowed themselves to breathe.
There were smiles everywhere.
Ramsey was still teasing Saka about one of his runs.
Kanté sat quietly, listening to the conversation around him.
Alexis was animated as usual, replaying one of the attacks with his hands while Giroud laughed.
Francesco sat with his back against his locker, boots already removed, listening more than speaking.
Two goals.
Three points.
A victory over City.
It was exactly the kind of opening Arsenal had wanted.
Yet even as the room gradually emptied, Francesco couldn't quite stop thinking about the match itself.
It hadn't been easy.
City had made them work.
They had scored first.
They had found spaces.
They had forced Čech into important saves.
And Arsenal had needed patience before eventually turning the match around.
That thought stayed with him as he finally left the stadium.
By the time Francesco returned home, the adrenaline had begun to disappear.
The mansion was quiet.
There was no training schedule waiting for him the next morning.
No early alarm.
No bus.
No tactical meeting.
The squad had been given a full day off.
For once, there was nowhere he needed to be.
The following morning, Francesco woke later than usual.
Sunlight had already found its way through the curtains when he finally opened his eyes.
He stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling.
His body reminded him of the previous afternoon.
Not painful.
Just heavy.
The kind of tiredness that came after ninety minutes of constant movement.
He eventually got up, showered and made his way downstairs.
Breakfast was unhurried.
There was no need to rush.
Afterward, Francesco settled into the living room with a drink and turned on the television.
Football news was already playing.
He almost smiled.
Of course it was.
The screen showed highlights from the previous day's match.
Francesco watched himself score the equalizer.
Alexis's pass.
The movement behind Stones.
The finish.
Then came the second goal.
Özil's perfectly weighted ball.
His run between Otamendi and Stones.
Bravo coming out.
The composed finish into the far corner.
The commentator's voice rose as the Emirates erupted.
Francesco leaned back.
He had seen the goals already.
Several times.
But watching them again was different.
The programme moved from highlights to analysis.
And almost immediately, the discussion became less comfortable.
"Arsenal have started with three points," one presenter said, "but the question now is whether they can maintain the level of dominance we saw from them throughout last season."
A former player beside him nodded.
"They won, absolutely. Nobody can take that away from them. But Manchester City were very competitive. From the opening minutes, they showed they can cause Arsenal serious problems."
Francesco reached for his drink.
He didn't change the channel.
The presenter continued.
"Last season, Arsenal didn't simply win matches. They controlled them. They overwhelmed teams. They dictated the pace. There were very few sides capable of making them uncomfortable for ninety minutes."
The analyst glanced toward the screen.
"This was different."
Francesco's expression became more serious.
"City pushed them from the beginning," the analyst continued. "Arsenal eventually found the answer, but it wasn't the same ruthless performance we've become accustomed to seeing from them."
That word caught Francesco's attention.
Ruthless.
He thought back to the training session before the match.
The slower warm-ups.
The casual mistakes.
The laughter after misplaced passes.
The assumption that their quality would eventually be enough.
He had noticed it.
Wenger had noticed it.
And now the television analysts were noticing something similar.
"Could the quadruple have changed them?" the presenter asked.
Francesco lowered his glass.
"That's the big question."
The analyst didn't immediately answer.
"They've achieved almost everything possible. Three consecutive Premier League titles. The Champions League. The FA Cup. The League Cup. The quadruple. At some point, you have to wonder whether maintaining that hunger becomes harder."
Francesco stared at the television.
That was exactly what he had been thinking.
He didn't like hearing it.
But that didn't mean it was wrong.
The previous season had been extraordinary.
Every week, Arsenal had played with the expectation that another opponent would try to stop them, and more often than not, Arsenal had simply overwhelmed them.
There had been a sense of inevitability.
If they needed a goal, they found one.
If an opponent tried to press them, they played through it.
If a team sat deep, Arsenal patiently dismantled them.
They had made winning look almost normal.
But yesterday?
Yesterday had been a fight.
A good fight.
A deserved victory.
But still a fight.
Francesco leaned forward slightly.
Was that simply because City were better?
Or was something beginning to change inside Arsenal?
The programme moved on to the transfer market.
Manchester City appeared on the screen.
The presenter discussed Guardiola's recruitment.
"City have strengthened considerably," he said. "And their defensive improvements are particularly significant."
A graphic appeared.
Ederson.
Aymeric Laporte.
Francesco watched.
The presenter explained that the arrivals had given Guardiola additional quality and depth, particularly in defence, while also providing him with more options for building from the back.
"Ederson gives them another dimension in goal," the analyst said. "And Laporte gives Guardiola another high-level central defender. This is not the same Manchester City Arsenal faced previously."
Francesco nodded slowly.
That much was obvious.
City hadn't come to the Emirates simply hoping to survive.
They had arrived believing they could win.
And they had nearly done it.
The programme continued discussing City's strengthened squad, their defensive options and Guardiola's ability to rotate without losing quality.
Francesco listened for another few minutes.
Eventually, however, he sighed.
"Same argument."
He picked up the remote.
The channel changed.
Another football programme appeared.
Francesco stared at the screen.
Then laughed quietly.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Sky Sports.
And sitting in the studio were Gary Neville, Jamie Carragher and Ian Wright.
Francesco settled back into the sofa.
At least this might be different.
It wasn't.
Neville was already discussing Manchester City's improvement.
"I'm telling you now," he said, "City are going to make this much more difficult for Arsenal than they did last season. They've strengthened. They've added quality. They've got more options. And Guardiola won't be satisfied with finishing second."
Carragher nodded.
"Exactly. And yesterday showed it. Arsenal won, but City were right there. They were competitive for long periods. If you're Arsenal, you can't look at that game and think, 'We're going to walk away with the league again.'"
Francesco smiled faintly.
There it was.
The same argument.
But then Ian Wright leaned forward.
"Hang on."
Neville looked toward him.
Wright continued.
"I'm not saying Arsenal are guaranteed anything. They're not. Nobody is. But don't underestimate what that team has already built."
Carragher nodded.
"That's fair."
"They've kept the squad together," Wright said. "That's massive. The players know each other. They know Wenger's system. They know what they're supposed to do when a game changes. And they've already experienced pressure."
He pointed toward the screen.
"That's not nothing."
Francesco smiled.
That sounded more like it.
Wright wasn't pretending City weren't dangerous.
He was simply refusing to judge Arsenal entirely on one difficult afternoon.
Neville considered the point.
"Continuity can be an advantage," he admitted. "But it can also become complacency."
Francesco's smile disappeared.
There it was again.
Wright nodded slowly.
"Absolutely. That's where Wenger has to be careful. But there's a difference between being comfortable and being experienced."
Carragher added, "And Arsenal have both, potentially."
The three men continued.
They debated City's improved defence.
They discussed De Bruyne, Agüero, Sterling and Gündoğan.
They talked about Guardiola's tactical flexibility.
They talked about Arsenal's established starting eleven and the quality waiting on the bench.
They discussed the fact that Arsenal hadn't needed a major rebuild because they had already conquered England and Europe.
And that, Francesco realized, was the heart of the argument.
Arsenal's greatest advantage could also become their greatest weakness.
Continuity.
The same players.
The same relationships.
The same tactical understanding.
The same dressing room.
The same expectations.
They knew one another almost instinctively.
Francesco knew when Alexis wanted the ball early.
He knew how Özil liked to receive.
He knew Kanté would appear behind him if he lost possession.
He knew Van Dijk would cover the space behind.
He knew Xhaka would switch play when the opposite flank opened.
They had built that understanding over years.
They hadn't needed to tear everything apart during the summer because there was no reason to.
The team had already worked.
And yet, perhaps that was exactly why hunger mattered so much.
If nothing changed around them, would they change inside themselves?
Francesco looked down at his hands.
The pundits continued speaking.
Ian Wright was still defending Arsenal's position as favourites, although carefully.
"They're still the team to beat," he said. "You don't win what they've won by accident. If I'm City, I'm looking at Arsenal and thinking, 'We've got to knock them off the top.' But if I'm Arsenal, I'm looking at City and thinking, 'Fine. Come and try.'"
Francesco chuckled.
That sounded like Wright.
Confident without pretending the challenge didn't exist.
The programme eventually moved toward predictions.
Neville leaned toward City.
Not necessarily to win the title, but to push Arsenal much harder.
Carragher agreed that the gap would narrow.
Wright still backed Arsenal as the leading contender.
Not because the title was guaranteed.
Because Arsenal had earned the right to start the season as favourites.
Francesco sat quietly through all of it.
He didn't feel angry.
He didn't feel reassured either.
Mostly, he felt thoughtful.
The television was asking the same question he had already been asking himself.
Could Arsenal's continuity carry them through another season?
Could the chemistry that had helped produce an unprecedented quadruple remain as powerful when every opponent now wanted to beat them?
Could their experience make them stronger rather than comfortable?
And perhaps most importantly—
Did they still have the hunger?
Francesco looked toward the window.
Outside, the morning was peaceful.
There were no supporters.
No cameras.
No stadium noise.
Just an ordinary day.
A day off.
For a few hours, Arsenal were simply footballers recovering at home, spending time with their families, sleeping late and enjoying the fact that the first three points were safely on the table.
But Francesco couldn't quite switch his mind off.
Yesterday had been a victory.
That was the truth.
Manchester City had pushed them.
Arsenal had responded.
They had come from behind.
They had defended their lead.
They had earned three points against one of their strongest rivals.
There was nothing disappointing about that.
Yet Francesco also knew something else.
One difficult victory didn't prove Arsenal had lost their hunger.
But it didn't prove they still possessed last season's dominance either.
That would take time.
Match after match.
Week after week.
The answer wouldn't come from television analysts.
It wouldn't come from predictions.
It wouldn't come from what had happened last season.
It would come from Arsenal themselves.
Francesco picked up the remote again.
The television continued talking about the title race.
He lowered the volume.
For a moment, he simply sat there.
Manchester City were stronger.
Arsenal were unchanged.
And perhaps that was the most interesting part of all.
They had kept almost everything that had made them champions.
Now they had to prove that everything they had kept was still enough.
Francesco leaned back into the sofa.
The season had only just begun.
One match.
Three points.
Thirty-seven league games remained.
The thought didn't frighten him.
If anything, it made him smile.
Because if Arsenal really wanted to remain at the summit, they couldn't expect the road to be as easy as it had sometimes looked before as they would have to earn it all over again.
Then the next morning arrived with none of the urgency that had surrounded matchday.
There was no packed stadium waiting for them.
No television cameras outside the training ground.
No opponents standing across the pitch.
Just another London morning, another drive through familiar roads, and the quiet understanding that the season had already moved on.
Francesco stood by the front door of the Richmond mansion, his Arsenal training bag resting over one shoulder.
Leah walked over and straightened the collar of his jacket.
"Back to work."
Francesco smiled.
"Apparently."
"You sound disappointed."
"I had a nice day off."
"You spent half of it watching people talk about football."
"That was research."
Leah gave him a look.
"Research?"
"Very important research."
"Of course."
Cheddar appeared from around the corner at exactly the right moment, tail wagging furiously.
Francesco crouched down and scratched behind the corgi's ears.
"See you later, mate."
Cheddar immediately pushed his head underneath Francesco's hand.
"You're not making this easy."
Leah smiled.
"He thinks you're leaving for a month."
"I'll be back this afternoon."
Cheddar stared at him anyway.
Francesco stood and gave Leah a quick kiss.
"See you later."
"Good luck."
He opened the door.
Then paused.
Leah raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He glanced back at her and smiled.
"Just feels like the season's moving quickly."
"It started two days ago."
"Exactly."
She laughed.
"Go."
Francesco stepped outside.
The door closed behind him, and the quiet of home gave way to the familiar rhythm of football again.
London Colney was already awake when Francesco arrived.
Cars filled portions of the parking area. Staff moved between buildings carrying equipment, coaches crossed the paths with folders under their arms, and several players were already making their way toward the training pitches.
Francesco stepped out of his car and immediately heard a voice behind him.
"Captain!"
He turned.
Alexis was walking toward him with a grin.
"You're late."
Francesco checked his watch.
"I'm early."
Alexis shrugged.
"Late for me."
"That sounds like your problem."
Alexis laughed and pulled him into a brief hug.
"Good game."
"You too."
"Two goals."
"I know."
"You're supposed to say thank you."
"For what?"
Alexis pointed at himself.
"The equaliser."
Francesco laughed.
"You passed me the ball."
"Exactly. Important work."
"Very generous."
Before Alexis could answer, Ramsey appeared.
"Don't encourage him."
Alexis immediately turned.
"Why?"
"Because he'll start asking for an assist bonus."
"I deserve one."
"You already earn enough."
The conversation dissolved into laughter as more players joined them.
Saka came over carrying his boots.
"Morning, captain."
"Morning."
"How are the legs?"
"Fine."
"Mine are dead."
Francesco smiled.
"You only played part of the game."
"Exactly. Imagine if I'd played ninety."
Ramsey shook his head.
"That's not how it works."
"It should be."
A few metres away, Kanté was already stretching quietly.
Van Dijk walked onto the pitch alongside Koscielny, while Özil emerged from the building with Cazorla and Xhaka.
There was nothing particularly dramatic about the reunion.
That was what Francesco liked.
They had won on Sunday.
They had enjoyed the victory.
Yesterday had been a day away from football.
Now everyone was simply back.
Back to work.
Francesco dropped his bag beside the changing area and began preparing.
The relaxed mood gradually disappeared as the players moved onto the training pitch.
Wenger was already there.
He stood near the touchline with his hands behind his back, watching the staff arrange cones and mannequins.
When the players gathered, he waited until the conversations faded.
"Good morning."
"Morning, boss."
Wenger looked around.
"Sunday is finished."
Nobody needed an explanation.
"We have three points," he continued. "That is good. We deserved them. But those points cannot help us at Stamford Bridge unless we earn three more."
A few players nodded.
"Chelsea will be different."
His eyes moved across the group.
"Very different."
He paused.
"New manager. New ideas. New demands."
Francesco listened carefully.
"Maurizio Sarri has arrived with a very clear football philosophy," Wenger continued. "They want the ball. They want to move it quickly. They want to create numerical advantages around the ball. They will ask questions of our positioning."
Wenger pointed toward the pitch.
"So today, we begin to answer those questions."
The session started with technical work.
Short passing.
One-touch combinations.
Players constantly moving after releasing the ball.
Wenger wanted the tempo high from the beginning.
"Quicker!"
A pass went slightly behind Ramsey.
"Again!"
Ramsey returned it.
"Better."
Another sequence broke down.
Wenger immediately stopped it.
"No. If the pass is there, you must play it before the pressure arrives."
He walked toward the group.
"Chelsea will not wait for you. If you take two touches when one is enough, they will close you."
Francesco nodded.
Özil received the next ball and immediately released it.
Francesco moved into the space.
"Good," Wenger called.
The drill continued.
The technical exercises gradually became more demanding.
Two-touch possession became one-touch.
Then players were required to receive under pressure, turn and find a third player.
Kanté seemed almost incapable of making a mistake.
At one point, he won the ball and immediately found Cazorla.
Cazorla flicked it around Ramsey.
Ramsey laughed.
"Show-off."
Cazorla smiled.
"You're just slow."
Ramsey pointed at him.
"Remember that when I tackle you."
Francesco shook his head.
"You two are arguing during the drill."
"It's tactical," Ramsey said.
"Of course."
Wenger heard them.
"Less conversation. More football."
The players laughed, but they returned their attention to the exercise.
That was the balance inside the squad.
Even under pressure, they could still joke.
But when Wenger demanded concentration, they listened.
The next exercise focused specifically on possession against pressure.
Two teams competed inside a compressed area.
The objective was simple: keep the ball, create passing angles and escape pressure without forcing play.
Chelsea's anticipated midfield structure meant Arsenal had to become comfortable receiving with opponents nearby.
Francesco often dropped away from the central defenders, dragging a marker with him.
The moment that happened, Wenger shouted.
"Francesco, now!"
He turned.
Özil had already seen it.
The German slipped a pass into his feet.
Francesco laid it off first time.
Alexis immediately attacked the space behind him.
The ball went wide.
"Again!"
This time Francesco stayed higher.
Xhaka received possession.
Kanté moved underneath him.
Robertson pushed forward.
Özil drifted into the half-space.
Francesco looked across the defensive line.
He knew what Wenger wanted.
Not simply to run behind.
To make the defenders uncertain about whether he would run behind or come short.
That uncertainty created the space.
Özil played into his feet.
Francesco held the ball, waited for the defender to step forward, then returned it to Özil and immediately spun.
Özil's return pass came into the channel.
Francesco reached it first.
"That's it!" Wenger shouted.
Francesco crossed toward the runners.
Saka arrived at the far side.
"Good!"
The sequence ended with a finish.
Wenger nodded.
"That is the movement."
He pointed toward Francesco.
"Do not run simply because you can run. Move when the defender has to make a decision."
Francesco nodded.
The message was clear.
Against Chelsea, his movement would not simply be about speed.
It would be about creating uncertainty.
Over the following days, the training became increasingly tactical.
There were sessions devoted to defending transitions.
Whenever Arsenal lost possession, the nearest players immediately pressed while the rest of the team narrowed the spaces behind them.
Wenger stopped play repeatedly.
"Too wide."
The players adjusted.
"Closer."
They moved again.
"If we lose the ball here, we cannot have three players standing twenty metres apart."
He pointed toward the midfield.
"Compact. Always give the player on the ball a problem."
Kanté naturally became central to the exercise.
His ability to read the next pass made him one of the most important players in the drill.
But Wenger wanted everyone involved.
Alexis had to recover.
Özil had to position himself intelligently.
Francesco had to block the central passing lane before beginning his next run.
The forwards were not exempt from defensive responsibility.
At one point Francesco arrived half a second late.
Wenger blew his whistle.
"Francesco."
"Yes?"
"Again."
They reset.
"You are the first defender. If you close the wrong angle, the midfield has twice as much work."
Francesco nodded.
"Understood."
They repeated it.
This time Francesco curved his run perfectly, forcing the ball toward the flank.
Kanté stepped in.
Possession regained.
"Better."
Francesco jogged back.
Alexis looked at him.
"You're becoming a defender."
"Don't tell Wenger."
Wenger, several metres away, immediately called out.
"I heard that."
The entire group laughed.
As the week progressed, the tactical meetings became longer.
The squad watched footage of Chelsea.
Different phases were examined.
How they built from the back.
How their midfielders moved to create passing options.
How quickly they could change direction.
Where spaces appeared when possession was lost.
Where Arsenal could press.
Where they should resist the temptation.
Wenger repeatedly emphasized one point.
"We cannot play Chelsea exactly as we played Manchester City."
The players sat quietly.
"Different opponent. Different strengths. Different weaknesses."
He moved to another image.
"Against City, there were moments when the pressing trap was effective because of where they positioned their midfielders."
Another image appeared.
"Chelsea may give you another picture."
Francesco studied the screen.
He understood the challenge.
It wasn't enough to have a successful system.
The system had to adapt.
On the pitch, that meant patience.
When Chelsea pressed, Arsenal had to have the courage to keep possession.
When Chelsea committed numbers forward, Arsenal had to recognize the space behind.
When Arsenal lost the ball, the nearest players had to react immediately.
And when the opportunity arrived, the finishing had to be ruthless.
One afternoon, Wenger divided the squad for a full tactical game.
The pitch was narrowed.
The coaches positioned mannequins in Chelsea's midfield areas.
Francesco started centrally.
Özil operated behind him.
Alexis occupied the left.
Gnabry stayed wide on the right.
Cazorla and Ramsey rotated through midfield.
Xhaka and Kanté controlled the deeper areas.
Behind them, the defensive line worked on maintaining its shape.
The first few minutes were deliberately slow.
Wenger wanted Arsenal to learn how to move Chelsea rather than attack immediately.
"Keep the ball."
Robertson passed inside.
Xhaka switched play.
Walker advanced.
Gnabry received.
The German took one touch and returned it.
Francesco dropped.
The defensive line followed him.
He turned and sprinted behind.
The ball didn't come.
Francesco stopped.
"Again," Wenger called.
They restarted.
This time Özil waited.
Francesco checked toward the ball.
The defender followed.
Francesco suddenly turned and attacked the space.
Özil played it.
Francesco reached the pass inside the area and finished.
The net moved.
"Good."
Francesco jogged back.
Özil pointed at him.
"You waited this time."
"I learned."
"Finally."
Francesco laughed.
"Very funny."
The small-sided games became competitive.
Ramsey and Saka argued over whether a goal should count.
"It hit the post!"
"It went in!"
"It came back out."
"Because it hit the inside!"
Francesco stepped between them.
"Play."
Ramsey looked at him.
"You're no fun."
"I'm captain."
"Exactly. Too serious."
Francesco smiled.
"Five minutes left."
That changed everything.
The intensity increased immediately.
Tackles became sharper.
Passing became faster.
Players demanded the ball.
Wenger watched closely.
This was what he wanted to see.
Not emotional speeches.
Not reminders of Manchester City.
Football.
Players solving problems together.
Cazorla found Alexis between two defenders.
Alexis turned and slipped Francesco through.
Francesco shot.
Čech saved.
The rebound fell to Saka.
He finished.
"That's the transition!" Wenger shouted.
Francesco pointed toward Saka.
"Good!"
Saka grinned.
"Finally."
"Keep doing that."
By the final training day, Stamford Bridge no longer felt like something written several pages ahead on the fixture list.
It was close.
Very close.
The mood around London Colney had changed.
There was less joking during warm-ups.
Players spoke more quietly.
The equipment was laid out earlier.
The coaches moved with greater purpose.
Nobody needed to tell them what was coming.
Wenger gathered them near the halfway line.
The sky was pale above the training ground.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we play away."
He looked around the group.
"Stamford Bridge will be different from the Emirates. They will have their supporters. They will have confidence in their new manager. They will want to establish themselves."
He paused.
"We must remain calm."
His eyes moved from player to player.
"Possession must be controlled. When the opportunity is there, we attack. When we lose the ball, we recover our shape."
He looked toward Francesco.
"And we must be brave."
Francesco nodded.
Wenger continued.
"Do not allow the atmosphere to make you hurry. Do not allow their pressure to make you abandon our structure."
The final tactical instructions followed.
The midfield had to remain connected.
The defenders had to be prepared for runs behind.
The wide players had to recognize when to stay wide and when to attack inside.
Francesco had to move intelligently, stretching the defensive line without becoming isolated.
Özil needed options around him.
Alexis and Gnabry had to be ready to exploit spaces.
Cazorla and Ramsey had to provide energy when the game opened.
Xhaka had to help Arsenal change the point of attack.
Kanté had to protect the centre and react immediately when Chelsea broke forward.
And behind them, the defenders had to remain composed.
Wenger finished simply.
"Tomorrow, we start again."
The players broke apart.
There was no celebration.
No discussion about Manchester City.
No talk about the three points already earned.
Those belonged to the previous weekend.
Francesco picked up his training jacket and looked across the pitch.
The same teammates.
The same manager.
The same badge.
But a different challenge.
Alexis walked past him.
"Ready?"
Francesco smiled.
"Always."
Alexis nodded.
"Good."
They headed toward the building together.
Behind them, the training pitch slowly emptied.
The final preparation was complete.
The bags would be packed.
The tactics would be reviewed one final time.
The players would return home, eat, rest and prepare themselves mentally.
And tomorrow, Stamford Bridge would be waiting.
Francesco glanced back once more before disappearing inside.
The season had begun with a victory over Manchester City.
Now came the next test.
Chelsea away.
No more television debates.
No more predictions.
No more questions about what Arsenal had done last season.
Only ninety minutes ahead.
And Arsenal would have to prove themselves all over again.
__________________________________________________
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, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, Champions League 2017/2018, 2018 World Cup, and 2018/2019 Community Shield.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 2
Goal: 3
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 0
Goal: 0
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 11
Goal: 14
Assist: 1
MOTM: 7
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