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And Arsenal would have to prove themselves all over again.
Then the following morning, Stamford Bridge was no longer something they could discuss from a tactical board.
It was real.
By the time the Arsenal team bus turned onto the streets surrounding the stadium, the atmosphere had already changed.
Chelsea supporters were everywhere.
Blue scarves hung from railings and shoulders. People moved toward the ground in groups, talking loudly about the new season, the new manager and the opportunity to make an early statement against the reigning champions.
Francesco sat by the window, watching them pass.
There was something different about an away fixture.
At the Emirates, the noise belonged to them.
Here, it belonged to somebody else.
He could see Stamford Bridge ahead through the gaps between buildings.
"Here we go," Ramsey said from across the aisle.
Saka leaned toward the window.
"That's a lot of blue."
Ramsey laughed.
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Less blue."
"Brilliant observation."
Francesco smiled.
The bus slowed as it approached the entrance.
Nobody needed to say much anymore.
The jokes had mostly disappeared.
Players were checking phones one last time, listening to music, or simply staring ahead.
Francesco looked down at his hands.
He wasn't nervous.
Not exactly.
It was more the familiar feeling of anticipation.
The kind that settled into his chest before every important match.
The bus finally stopped.
The doors opened.
One by one, the Arsenal players stepped down.
The noise outside immediately became louder.
Boos greeted them.
Some supporters shouted.
Others simply watched.
Francesco adjusted his bag over his shoulder and walked inside with the rest of the squad.
The away dressing room was already prepared.
Shirts hung neatly in front of each locker.
Boots were placed underneath.
Water bottles stood ready.
The familiar routine began almost immediately.
There was comfort in that.
Whatever stadium they entered, whatever opponent waited outside, footballers still had the same small rituals.
Francesco changed into his training gear and sat down.
Alexis was taping his wrists.
Ramsey was struggling with one of his socks.
"You've been doing that for five minutes," Cazorla said.
"It doesn't feel right."
"It's a sock."
"Exactly. You don't understand."
Cazorla laughed.
Nearby, Özil sat quietly with his headphones around his neck.
Kanté was already stretching.
Van Dijk and Koscielny spoke briefly about the pitch.
Wenger entered for a moment.
"Warm-up in ten minutes."
The room acknowledged him.
Then he left.
Francesco stood.
"Come on."
The players followed.
Then the doors opened and the noise of Stamford Bridge rushed toward them.
It wasn't the overwhelming roar of the Emirates.
It was sharper.
More hostile.
Every Arsenal player received a mixture of whistles and boos as they stepped onto the pitch.
Francesco barely reacted.
He had played in hostile stadiums before.
The trick was not to fight the atmosphere.
It was to let it exist around you.
The squad began with light jogging.
Then dynamic stretches.
Hamstrings.
Calves.
Hips.
Short movements across the grass.
The coaching staff moved between them, checking intensity and keeping the routine flowing.
After that came passing exercises.
Short combinations first.
Then longer passes.
Francesco exchanged passes with Özil.
One touch.
Return.
Move.
Again.
Alexis joined them.
"Ready?"
Francesco nodded.
"Always."
The finishing work followed.
Crosses came from both sides.
Francesco attacked the near post once, then pulled away toward the penalty spot.
Another ball arrived.
He finished first time.
Čech shouted from the other end.
"Good!"
Gnabry received the next cross.
His shot flew wide.
Ramsey laughed.
"Very close."
Gnabry pointed at him.
"Don't start."
"I'm only encouraging you."
"You're enjoying it."
"Maybe."
The players laughed.
Then the acceleration drills began.
Short bursts.
Five metres.
Ten.
Turn.
Recover.
Repeat.
Francesco pushed himself through each one without trying to prove anything.
He knew the match would demand enough running soon.
As the warm-up continued, the stadium filled.
More supporters arrived.
The noise gradually became a constant background.
Chelsea flags moved behind one goal.
The chants became louder.
Francesco looked around briefly.
Stamford Bridge was ready.
He took a slow breath.
Another Premier League afternoon.
Another difficult opponent.
Nothing more complicated than that.
⸻
When the warm-up finished, Arsenal returned inside.
The players cooled down briefly before changing.
The atmosphere in the dressing room was quieter now.
Everyone knew the next time they walked out, it would be for the match.
Francesco changed into the official Arsenal kit.
Red shirt.
White sleeves.
Shorts.
Socks.
Then Wenger entered.
The room fell silent.
He held the team sheet.
"I have decided to keep the same eleven."
Francesco looked up.
Wenger began.
"Petr in goal."
Čech nodded.
"Robertson, Van Dijk, Koscielny, Walker."
The defenders listened.
"Kanté and Xhaka."
Both midfielders acknowledged the call.
"Özil behind."
Özil lifted his head.
"Alexis and Gnabry supporting Francesco."
Francesco adjusted the captain's armband around his sleeve.
The eleven was unchanged from the victory over Manchester City.
Wenger turned toward the board.
"Chelsea."
He placed their lineup on the screen.
"Kepa Arrizabalaga."
The new Chelsea goalkeeper.
"Alonso, David Luiz, Rüdiger, Azpilicueta."
Then midfield.
"Jorginho. Ross Barkley. Mateo Kovačić."
Finally, the front three.
"Willian. Pedro. Morata."
The room became even quieter.
Wenger pointed toward the midfield.
"They will want the ball."
He didn't need to explain much more.
"Jorginho will try to control the rhythm. Kovačić can carry the ball and escape pressure. They will move constantly."
His eyes settled briefly on Francesco.
"But there will be spaces."
He returned to the board.
"Barkley can be vulnerable when their structure is stretched. We must recognize this. Not force it. Recognize it."
Francesco nodded.
Wenger continued.
"Do not chase the ball simply because Chelsea have it. Make them play where we want."
He pointed toward the Arsenal midfield.
"Mesut, Granit, N'Golo, you control the important spaces."
Özil nodded.
"And when we have possession, we move quickly enough to make them turn."
He looked toward the forwards.
"Francesco, Alexis, Serge. Be intelligent with your movement. One comes short, another goes behind. Do not occupy the same space."
"Yes, boss," Francesco replied.
Wenger looked around the room.
"We have prepared for this."
He paused.
"Now trust it."
The players began standing.
Francesco looked around at them.
No speech was necessary.
He simply said,
"Let's go."
The tunnel was different.
The noise seemed to compress into the narrow space.
Chelsea players stood opposite them.
Willian spoke quietly with Pedro.
Morata adjusted his sleeves.
Jorginho looked toward the pitch.
Azpilicueta stood near the front, composed and focused.
Francesco moved into position.
He and Azpilicueta exchanged a brief glance.
"Good luck," the Chelsea captain said.
"You too."
The officials gathered.
The stadium announcer introduced the teams.
The noise grew.
Then the doors opened.
Both teams walked onto the Stamford Bridge pitch.
Arsenal lined up beside the referees.
Chelsea formed alongside them.
The players shook hands with the officials first.
Then with the opposition.
Francesco shook Azpilicueta's hand.
The cameras flashed.
Both teams turned toward the photographers.
The official starting-eleven photographs were taken.
One moment.
Then another.
Finally, the players dispersed.
Francesco remained with Azpilicueta and the main referee for the coin toss.
The referee held the coin between them.
"Heads," Francesco said.
The coin went into the air.
It landed.
Heads.
Francesco nodded.
He chose the side Arsenal would start from.
Azpilicueta accepted it with a small nod.
They shook hands once more.
Then Francesco returned to his teammates.
The referee checked his watch.
The players took their positions.
The noise rose one final time.
And the match began.
Chelsea started aggressively.
They moved the ball from the first whistle.
Jorginho immediately dropped between the defenders to receive.
Kovačić moved into space.
Barkley pushed forward.
Willian stayed wide.
Pedro did the same on the opposite side.
Morata remained between Van Dijk and Koscielny.
Arsenal didn't panic.
Kanté positioned himself carefully.
Xhaka stayed connected.
Özil drifted into pockets.
Francesco watched the Chelsea back line.
He wasn't looking for the ball yet.
He was looking for movement.
The first ten minutes were largely a battle for territory.
Chelsea had possession.
Arsenal had structure.
Whenever Jorginho tried to dictate the game, Kanté shadowed the next passing lane rather than charging directly at him.
Xhaka helped close the central spaces.
Özil became increasingly influential whenever Arsenal recovered the ball.
At one point, Jorginho found Kovačić.
The Croatian turned away from Xhaka beautifully.
He carried the ball forward.
Kanté stepped across.
Kovačić released it wide.
Willian crossed.
Van Dijk cleared.
Chelsea applauded the attack.
It was a warning.
But Arsenal responded.
Özil received from Xhaka.
He turned.
A quick pass found Alexis.
Alexis drove inside and pulled two Chelsea players toward him before switching toward Robertson.
The left-back advanced.
Francesco moved across the centre.
The cross came.
Rüdiger headed away.
"Better," Francesco called.
Alexis nodded.
Chelsea were beginning to realize they couldn't simply press Arsenal without consequences.
The midfield battle became the heart of the match.
Jorginho was elegant.
Kovačić was energetic.
But Barkley struggled to maintain the same level of positional discipline.
There were moments when he moved too high.
Others when he drifted away from Jorginho.
Arsenal noticed.
Wenger certainly noticed.
From the touchline came his voice.
"Mesut! There!"
Özil immediately moved into the space.
Francesco dropped toward him.
The ball arrived.
One touch.
Then another.
Özil released it wide.
Arsenal escaped.
"Good!"
The game continued.
Chelsea remained dangerous, but Arsenal were beginning to dictate important phases.
Not constantly.
Not comfortably.
But enough.
And when Arsenal had the ball, their midfield quality began to show.
Xhaka could switch play.
Kanté could recover possession.
Özil could find the pass nobody else saw.
Chelsea had technical quality.
Arsenal simply had a better balance.
The breakthrough arrived in the 32nd minute.
Chelsea had pushed forward again.
Jorginho received near the centre circle.
He looked for Kovačić.
Kanté anticipated it.
He stepped in and forced the ball loose.
Xhaka collected.
Immediately, Özil moved into space.
Xhaka found him.
Özil turned and played forward.
Gnabry received on the right.
He drove toward Alonso.
Francesco had already started moving.
First toward the near channel.
Then away.
Rüdiger hesitated.
Gnabry saw it.
He delayed just long enough.
Then slipped the ball inside.
Francesco accelerated between Rüdiger and David Luiz.
The pass reached him perfectly.
He took one touch.
Kepa rushed forward.
Francesco kept his composure.
A low finish toward the far corner.
Kepa stretched.
Too late.
The ball crossed the line.
"GOAL!"
Arsenal supporters erupted.
Francesco turned immediately.
Gnabry was already running toward him.
Francesco grabbed him.
"You saw it!"
"Of course I saw it!"
Alexis arrived next.
Özil followed.
Then the rest of the team.
Francesco smiled, patted Gnabry's head and pointed toward him.
"That was yours."
Gnabry laughed.
"About time."
Francesco looked toward the centre circle.
"Come on. Back."
They separated.
Chelsea players returned to position.
The score was 1–0.
But Francesco knew better than to let the celebration become a distraction.
As he walked back, he glanced toward Wenger.
The manager gave him a brief nod.
Nothing more.
There was still work to do.
Chelsea responded immediately.
Their passing became faster.
Willian began receiving higher.
Pedro pushed forward.
Morata tested the centre-backs.
For several minutes Arsenal had to defend.
Čech made one comfortable save from distance.
Koscielny blocked another attempt.
Walker intercepted a dangerous pass toward Pedro.
"Stay together!" Van Dijk shouted.
Arsenal did.
They weren't simply sitting back.
Whenever the opportunity appeared, they attacked.
Alexis nearly released Francesco behind David Luiz, but Azpilicueta recovered.
The match became increasingly physical.
The referee allowed some challenges to continue.
Both benches were vocal.
Wenger repeatedly urged his players to remain patient.
Then, with the interval approaching, Arsenal found another opening.
Özil collected the ball just inside Chelsea's half.
Francesco dropped toward him.
Alexis moved left.
Gnabry stayed wide.
Özil carried the ball for a few metres.
He waited.
Then suddenly played a pass between Alonso and Rüdiger.
Alexis had already started his run.
He reached it inside the area.
One touch.
Then the finish.
Kepa reacted.
But the shot was too precise.
The net moved.
44 minutes.
2–0.
Alexis wheeled away with both arms outstretched.
Özil jogged toward him, smiling.
Alexis pointed straight at him.
"You!"
Özil laughed.
Francesco arrived and wrapped an arm around both of them.
"Brilliant."
Alexis nodded.
"Two."
Francesco looked toward the scoreboard.
"Two."
They returned to halfway.
Chelsea looked stunned for a moment.
But they didn't collapse.
They pushed forward again during the remaining minutes.
Arsenal defended with discipline.
Kanté blocked a central pass.
Walker cleared a cross.
Van Dijk won an aerial duel.
Čech collected another effort.
There was no third goal.
The referee eventually brought the half to an end.
Arsenal walked toward the tunnel with a 2–0 advantage.
Francesco glanced back toward the pitch.
Chelsea still had forty-five minutes.
And Stamford Bridge had not gone quiet.
Inside the Arsenal dressing room, the atmosphere was controlled rather than celebratory.
Players sat down.
Water bottles opened.
Boots were loosened.
Everyone caught their breath.
Alexis leaned back against his locker.
"Good half."
Ramsey nodded.
"Very good."
Francesco drank deeply, then looked toward Wenger as the manager entered.
Wenger waited until everyone was listening.
"We have played well."
A few players nodded.
"But do not confuse playing well with finishing the job."
The room became silent.
"Chelsea will come."
He pointed toward the board.
"They have quality. They have players who can change the match quickly. We must not give them an easy route."
Wenger looked around.
"We need another goal."
Francesco listened carefully.
"After that," Wenger continued, "we manage the game better."
He emphasized each point.
"Controlled possession. Concentration. Defensive discipline. Intelligent decisions."
He looked toward the midfield.
"When we have the ball, do not give it away cheaply."
Then toward the defenders.
"When we lose it, stay compact."
Finally, toward Francesco and the forwards.
"And when the opportunity comes, finish it."
Francesco nodded.
Wenger's message was unmistakable.
Two goals were an excellent advantage.
They were not enough to become careless.
Francesco looked around the dressing room.
His teammates were tired, but focused.
Chelsea would come out with more urgency.
The second half would demand another level of concentration.
He tightened the captain's armband.
Then stood.
"Come on, boys."
Alexis rose beside him.
Ramsey followed.
The rest of the squad began moving toward the tunnel.
Francesco took one final breath.
They had forty-five minutes left, and Arsenal still had a job to finish at Stamford Bridge.
Then the second half began with Chelsea immediately throwing themselves forward.
Jorginho took the first pass and pushed it wide before Arsenal could settle into possession. Kovačić was already moving beyond him, dragging Xhaka toward the right side of midfield, while Barkley surged through the middle.
Willian received near the touchline.
Robertson stepped toward him.
The Brazilian shifted the ball onto his left foot and tried to send it into the area.
Robertson got there first.
The clearance only reached Barkley, however, and Chelsea recycled the attack.
"Again!" Sarri shouted from the technical area.
The home side were clearly unwilling to accept the two-goal deficit quietly.
Morata dropped toward the ball, trying to pull Van Dijk away from the penalty area. Pedro immediately moved into the space the striker had vacated.
Koscielny saw it.
"Walker!"
Walker tucked inside just as Pedro attempted to burst through.
The pass arrived.
Walker stretched out a boot and knocked it away.
Arsenal recovered.
Francesco immediately turned toward the loose ball.
"Go!"
Özil collected and played forward.
Alexis sprinted down the left.
Gnabry accelerated on the opposite side.
For several seconds, Chelsea were suddenly exposed.
Francesco ran between the centre-backs, forcing Rüdiger to turn.
Alexis carried the ball another ten metres before Azpilicueta came across.
He couldn't find Francesco.
Instead, he switched toward Gnabry.
Gnabry took the ball near the edge of the area and drove inside.
Alonso tracked him.
A challenge came in.
Gnabry stayed upright, but the ball ran loose.
Kanté was already moving forward to collect it.
He played back to Xhaka.
Arsenal slowed.
It was exactly the sort of moment Wenger had been asking for.
Chelsea wanted the match to become frantic.
Arsenal didn't have to give it to them.
Xhaka circulated the ball toward Robertson.
Robertson found Alexis.
Alexis returned it inside.
The sequence took some of the urgency out of Chelsea's press.
"Good," Wenger called.
The home supporters responded with impatient whistles.
Chelsea came again.
This time Jorginho found Kovačić between the lines.
Kovačić turned.
Kanté immediately moved across.
The Croatian carried the ball through the challenge and continued toward the edge of the box.
Xhaka stepped across.
Kovačić tried to slip Morata through.
Van Dijk read it.
One long stride took him into the passing lane.
The ball struck his boot and bounced away.
Morata threw his arms up.
Van Dijk simply pointed forward.
"Stay switched on."
Arsenal weren't comfortable.
But they weren't losing their shape either.
The match had become faster than the first half.
Every Chelsea attack seemed to contain another runner.
Every Arsenal recovery seemed capable of becoming a counterattack.
Francesco found himself dropping deeper than before, helping Özil and Alexis connect the first pass out of pressure.
He received from Kanté with Barkley closing from behind.
One touch.
Turn.
Barkley tried to catch him.
Francesco slipped the ball toward Özil and immediately sprinted beyond him.
Özil looked up.
The return pass was nearly there.
But Rüdiger stepped across and headed it away.
Francesco jogged back.
"Good idea," Özil said.
"Nearly."
"Nearly counts for nothing."
Francesco smiled.
"That's what you always say."
Özil gave him a brief grin.
"Because it's true."
Chelsea's pressure continued.
Willian found space behind Robertson and sent a low cross across the six-yard box.
Morata attacked it.
Koscielny threw himself in front of the striker.
The ball deflected behind.
Stamford Bridge roared.
The corner came in.
Van Dijk rose above everyone.
Clear.
Arsenal survived another spell.
And then, almost without warning, they were attacking again.
Xhaka won the second ball.
He found Özil.
Özil released Alexis.
Alexis carried it toward the centre and waited for Francesco's run.
Francesco went.
Rüdiger followed.
David Luiz moved across.
That opened space behind them.
Alexis tried to find Gnabry instead.
Alonso intercepted.
Chelsea broke immediately.
The transition was vicious.
Kovačić drove forward.
Barkley joined him.
Willian raced down the right.
Kanté sprinted back.
The Frenchman covered an enormous amount of ground before Kovačić could release Willian.
He slid across and forced the pass wide.
Robertson then completed the job with a strong clearance.
Wenger applauded.
"That's it!"
Neither team was giving the other room to breathe.
The clock moved past fifty minutes.
Chelsea had more urgency now, but Arsenal still looked dangerous whenever they escaped the first wave.
And in the 57th minute, they escaped perfectly.
It began with Chelsea trying to build from the back.
David Luiz played into Jorginho.
Jorginho returned it toward Azpilicueta.
Alexis pressed from the inside.
The pass went back toward Kepa.
Francesco immediately curved his run, cutting off the easy route into Jorginho.
Kepa played wide.
Alonso received.
Gnabry chased.
Alonso tried to move the ball inside.
Kanté stepped in.
The ball popped loose.
Xhaka gathered it and lifted his head.
Walker was already advancing from the right.
"Kyle!"
Walker received.
For once, he didn't immediately drive forward.
He waited.
Gnabry had pulled Alonso toward him.
Francesco occupied Rüdiger.
Alexis had drifted centrally.
Özil had quietly moved into the space behind Jorginho.
Walker saw it.
A low pass was played inside.
Özil took it in stride.
Jorginho turned too late.
Özil carried the ball toward the edge of the penalty area.
Francesco continued his run, taking Rüdiger with him.
That movement opened the centre.
Özil had a clear sight of goal.
He didn't hesitate.
His right foot struck through the ball cleanly.
It curled away from Kepa and into the far corner.
For a second, Stamford Bridge fell silent.
Then the Arsenal supporters erupted.
"YES!"
Özil turned toward Walker.
The German pointed straight at him.
Walker was already smiling.
He ran toward Özil and grabbed him.
"You waited!"
Özil laughed.
"You gave me the pass."
Francesco arrived a moment later.
"Beautiful."
Alexis joined them.
The celebration lasted only a few seconds.
Özil slapped Walker's shoulder.
"Good ball."
Walker nodded.
"Good finish."
The players separated and returned to halfway.
Arsenal had made it 3–0.
Wenger stood near the edge of his technical area, applauding once before turning immediately toward the pitch again.
He knew what would come next.
Chelsea were wounded.
But they weren't finished.
Sarri was already shouting instructions.
His players pushed higher.
Jorginho demanded the ball.
Kovačić began carrying it farther forward.
Barkley started taking up more aggressive positions.
Willian and Pedro stayed almost level with Morata, trying to stretch Arsenal's back four.
The Stamford Bridge crowd found its voice again.
They needed something.
And eventually, they got it.
The goal came in the 67th minute.
Chelsea worked the ball down the right.
Azpilicueta received from Kovačić and immediately moved forward.
Robertson stepped toward him.
Azpilicueta played a quick one-two with Pedro, then continued into the space behind the Arsenal full-back.
Walker shifted across.
That created a moment of uncertainty.
Azpilicueta lifted his head.
Morata had peeled away from Van Dijk.
A cross came toward the penalty spot.
Morata attacked it.
He rose ahead of Koscielny.
A firm header.
Čech reacted late.
The ball hit the net.
"GOAL!"
Stamford Bridge exploded.
Morata landed and immediately turned toward Azpilicueta.
The Chelsea captain ran toward him.
They embraced.
3–1.
The noise had returned.
Sarri punched the air before quickly pointing his players back toward halfway.
Francesco stood near the centre circle, watching Chelsea celebrate.
Alexis came alongside him.
"Now they believe."
Francesco nodded.
"Then we don't give them another reason."
The restart followed.
Chelsea pressed immediately.
There was no longer any sense that the match was comfortably Arsenal's.
One Chelsea goal could change everything.
Jorginho began finding more room.
Kovačić carried the ball through midfield repeatedly.
Pedro moved inside.
Willian stayed wide.
Morata was suddenly much more aggressive.
Arsenal had to defend properly.
Kanté was everywhere.
He intercepted one pass intended for Barkley and immediately moved it to Özil.
Another attack saw Kovačić escape Xhaka, but Van Dijk stepped out and forced him backward.
At the other end, Francesco nearly created Arsenal's fourth.
Özil found him between the centre-backs.
Francesco controlled with his chest and laid it off to Alexis.
Alexis shot.
Kepa saved.
Gnabry reached the rebound first, but his effort was blocked by Azpilicueta.
The Chelsea defenders celebrated the clearance almost like a goal.
The game was becoming a contest of moments.
Chelsea wanted another.
Arsenal wanted the next goal that would finally settle it.
But neither could find it.
The clock moved toward seventy-five minutes.
Wenger looked toward his bench.
Then toward Francesco.
The captain had covered enormous ground.
He had pressed, dropped deep, run behind the defence, scored the opening goal and helped Arsenal keep Chelsea's centre-backs occupied throughout the afternoon.
Wenger made his decision.
The fourth official prepared the board.
Francesco saw it.
Number nine.
Off.
He looked toward Wenger.
The manager gave him a small gesture.
Come off.
Francesco nodded.
At the same time, two more numbers appeared.
Özil.
Alexis.
All three were coming off.
The 75th minute arrived.
Francesco jogged toward the touchline.
The Stamford Bridge crowd greeted him with a mixture of boos and reluctant acknowledgement.
He didn't react.
As he reached the sideline, Wenger extended his hand.
Francesco shook it.
"Excellent work."
"Thanks, boss."
Wenger briefly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Rest."
Francesco stepped off.
Alexis followed.
Özil came last.
Giroud entered for Francesco.
Cazorla replaced Özil.
Emile Smith Rowe came on for Alexis.
The three replacements moved quickly into position.
At the same time, Sarri made his own attacking changes.
Willian was withdrawn.
Álvaro Morata followed.
Eden Hazard came onto the pitch.
Victor Moses entered alongside him.
The message was obvious.
Chelsea were going for it.
Francesco reached the bench and sat down, taking a long drink.
Giroud immediately moved into the centre-forward position.
Saka was on the sideline with the substitutes, watching closely.
Francesco leaned forward.
"Come on."
On the pitch, Arsenal adjusted.
Without Francesco's constant movement, Giroud offered a different problem for the Chelsea centre-backs.
He could hold the ball.
Bring others into play.
Protect possession.
Cazorla immediately began circulating passes.
Smith Rowe found space between Chelsea's midfield and defence.
Arsenal no longer needed to chase another goal.
They needed control.
Chelsea had other ideas.
Hazard received his first ball near the left side.
Walker came across.
Hazard stopped.
Turned.
Accelerated.
Walker stayed with him.
Hazard cut inside and found Kovačić.
Kovačić shot from outside the area.
Čech caught it.
"Good hands," Koscielny called.
The next attack came through Moses.
He surged down the right and crossed early.
Van Dijk headed away.
Hazard collected the second ball.
He tried again.
This time Kanté closed him down.
Hazard passed backward.
Chelsea had possession, but Arsenal were refusing to let them enter the penalty area easily.
The final ten minutes became a test of concentration.
Chelsea pressed.
Arsenal cleared.
Chelsea recovered.
Arsenal countered.
Cazorla found Smith Rowe with a clever pass.
The youngster turned and drove forward.
Giroud began his run.
Smith Rowe slipped him through.
Giroud reached the area and shot across goal.
Kepa saved.
The rebound was cleared.
Chelsea attacked again.
There was no time to relax.
At 82 minutes, Hazard nearly made the difference.
He collected the ball from Jorginho, cut inside two defenders and curled toward the far corner.
Čech stretched.
His fingertips touched it.
The ball went wide.
The Chelsea supporters groaned.
Čech rose immediately.
"Stay focused!"
Arsenal formed for the corner.
The delivery came.
Koscielny cleared.
Kanté chased the loose ball and won another challenge.
He found Cazorla.
Cazorla carried it away from pressure before drawing a foul.
Arsenal breathed again.
Five minutes later, Chelsea created another opening.
Moses crossed from deep.
Pedro attacked it.
Walker got across.
The ball struck him and looped dangerously toward the goal.
Čech stepped back and caught it.
No rebound.
No second chance.
Francesco exhaled from the bench.
The scoreboard showed 88 minutes.
Chelsea were still pushing.
Arsenal were still defending.
But the urgency had begun to lose some of its sharpness.
Every Arsenal clearance took the game closer to the end.
Every Chelsea attack became slightly more desperate.
Wenger stood near the touchline, constantly instructing his players to keep their distances.
"Together!"
Cazorla slowed the game whenever he could.
Kanté continued covering the centre.
Xhaka switched play toward Robertson.
Giroud held the ball against Rüdiger, absorbed the challenge and won a foul.
Smith Rowe chased a loose pass and forced Chelsea backward.
It wasn't spectacular.
It didn't need to be.
It was professional.
The fourth official eventually raised the board.
Three minutes of added time.
Stamford Bridge remained loud.
Chelsea sent bodies forward.
Jorginho crossed.
Van Dijk cleared.
Kovačić collected.
Xhaka blocked.
Hazard tried one final run.
Kanté met him.
The ball went loose.
Cazorla picked it up and carried it toward the corner.
He waited.
Waited.
Then drew another foul.
The referee checked his watch.
Francesco stood on the bench.
The players on the field looked toward him instinctively.
One more moment.
One more clearance.
The referee raised the whistle.
And blew.
Full time.
Arsenal had won 3–1 at Stamford Bridge.
For a brief moment, Francesco simply stood there.
Then the Arsenal players began walking toward one another.
Giroud smiled.
"Good afternoon."
Cazorla laughed.
"Very good afternoon."
Smith Rowe looked exhausted but delighted.
Kanté gave him a quick pat on the back.
Van Dijk embraced Koscielny.
Walker walked toward Özil and pointed at him.
"That goal."
Özil smiled.
"You gave me the pass."
"Exactly."
Alexis joined them, laughing.
Wenger stood a little farther away, watching his team.
He didn't celebrate wildly.
There was satisfaction in his expression, but also the familiar awareness that this was only the second league match of a very long season.
Francesco eventually walked onto the pitch to congratulate his teammates.
He shook Giroud's hand.
"Thanks for finishing the job."
Giroud grinned.
"We still had to defend."
Francesco looked toward the scoreboard.
3–1.
His goal.
Alexis's goal.
Özil's goal.
Morata's response.
A difficult away match had been won.
Across the stadium, the Chelsea supporters were disappointed, some already making their way toward the exits.
The Arsenal supporters behind the goal continued singing.
Their voices carried across Stamford Bridge.
Francesco looked toward them for a moment.
Two matches.
Two victories.
Six points.
But there was no need to celebrate as though the season had been decided.
There were thirty-six league matches still waiting.
Wenger gathered the players near the centre of the pitch.
"Enjoy it," he told them. "You earned it."
Francesco looked around at his teammates.
The champions had come to Stamford Bridge and left with another three points.
Not perfectly.
Not easily.
But convincingly enough.
And as Arsenal began their walk toward the tunnel, the meaning of the afternoon was already clear.
The new season had started with questions about whether they could maintain the hunger that had carried them through the previous campaign.
__________________________________________________
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: 3
Goal: 4
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