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Then Francesco picked up his bag and followed the team toward the dressing-room exit, leaving the noise of St James' Park behind as the new season had barely begun and yet it already demanding everything from them.
Then the doors of St James' Park closed behind them, and the roar of the Newcastle supporters gradually became muffled as Francesco followed the Arsenal players down the corridor toward the away dressing room.
The adrenaline of the match was still there.
It lingered in the heavy legs, the sweat on his shirt, the occasional burst of laughter from teammates who were still replaying moments from the game. But underneath it was the familiar satisfaction that came with an away victory.
Two goals.
A clean sheet.
Three points.
Nothing more complicated than that.
By the time the players had showered and changed, the mood had settled. The music in the dressing room was louder now, and Alexis was already arguing with Gnabry about which song should come next.
Francesco sat on the bench, unlacing his boots.
Özil walked past.
"Good night."
Francesco smiled.
"Good night."
"Two goals."
"I know."
Özil raised an eyebrow.
"You sound disappointed."
"No. Just tired."
"That is more believable."
Across the room, Wenger was speaking quietly with his coaching staff. There was no dramatic celebration. He had already moved on to the next week.
That was one of the things Francesco had learned about him.
Winning mattered.
But the response to winning mattered too.
The coach ride back to London was quiet.
Some players slept almost immediately. Others watched the highlights on their phones. Francesco spent part of the journey looking through the match again, pausing on the build-up to his two goals.
He noticed small things.
A midfielder arriving half a second late.
A defender stepping too far forward.
A pass that could have been played earlier.
Even after a brace, there was always something to improve.
By the time Arsenal returned to London Colney, the Newcastle match had already begun to become part of the past.
Training resumed.
Recovery work came first.
The players who had played the full ninety minutes completed lighter exercises, while the substitutes and unused players went through a more demanding session.
Francesco spent time with the conditioning staff before joining a smaller group for ball work.
The Premier League remained important, but gradually, the focus began to shift.
The first Champions League group-stage match was approaching.
Lyon.
The name carried a different weight.
Not because Arsenal feared them.
Because Europe was different.
Every mistake could be punished.
Every away trip would bring a different tactical problem.
And Arsenal were not entering the competition as outsiders anymore.
They were entering as three-time consecutive defending champions.
That fact followed them everywhere.
At London Colney, Wenger refused to let it become a distraction.
The first Champions League preparation session was almost entirely about Lyon.
The coaching staff had prepared extensive video analysis.
Lyon's midfield was examined.
Their attacking rotations.
Their full-backs.
Their ability to combine through narrow spaces.
The movement of Fekir.
The pace of Memphis Depay.
The intelligence of Aouar.
Wenger stopped the session repeatedly.
"Here," he said, freezing the image.
"Look at the distance between our lines. If this happens against Lyon, they will play through us."
The players watched carefully.
Kanté nodded.
"We need to close the inside first."
"Exactly."
Another sequence followed.
Then another.
On the pitch, the tactical work became physical.
Possession exercises were designed to imitate Lyon's pressure. The defenders worked on stepping forward together. The midfield practiced receiving under pressure and immediately finding the next pass.
Transitions followed.
Lose the ball.
React.
Win it.
Attack.
Then finish.
Francesco worked closely with Özil, Alexis and Gnabry on their attacking movement.
Sometimes Wenger wanted Francesco to drop deeper.
Other times he demanded that he stay high and occupy the centre-backs.
The purpose was simple.
Make Lyon uncomfortable.
Giroud was also heavily involved, particularly during crossing and finishing drills.
Set pieces occupied an entire section of one session.
Corners.
Defensive corners.
Free kicks.
Second balls.
Koscielny and Van Dijk repeatedly attacked deliveries while Čech organized the defensive line.
The final training sessions became shorter but sharper.
No one needed reminding what was coming.
The Emirates was waiting.
And when matchday finally arrived, the feeling around the stadium was unmistakable.
European nights had their own identity.
By late afternoon, Arsenal's players were already arriving.
The Emirates stood beneath the evening sky, floodlights illuminating the upper sections as supporters began filling the stadium.
European banners hung around the concourses.
Staff moved briskly through restricted areas.
UEFA officials checked equipment.
Camera crews prepared their positions.
Security guided guests toward their seats.
The familiar Champions League branding appeared everywhere.
Francesco stepped off the team coach with his bag over one shoulder.
He paused briefly.
He had played countless matches at the Emirates.
But Champions League nights still felt different.
The stadium seemed to carry a little more expectation.
Inside the dressing room, players settled into their usual places.
Shirts waited in front of each seat.
Boots were checked.
Tape was applied.
Music played quietly.
Francesco placed his phone into his bag and looked toward the shirt hanging in front of him.
Arsenal.
The cannon on the chest.
The captain's armband.
Tonight, it meant something slightly different.
Europe had come back.
The players changed into their training gear before heading onto the pitch.
The stands were only partially occupied when they emerged, but the number of supporters increased with every minute.
The warm-up began with light jogging.
Then dynamic stretches.
Short acceleration exercises.
Passing sequences.
One-touch combinations.
Movement patterns between midfield and attack.
Özil worked through passing drills with Xhaka and Kanté.
Alexis and Gnabry practiced receiving under pressure before switching play.
Francesco joined Giroud near the penalty area for finishing.
Low crosses.
Cutbacks.
First-time efforts.
Headers.
One-touch finishes.
The goalkeepers completed their own sequence at the opposite end, with Čech repeatedly diving low before standing to organize the defenders.
The stadium continued filling.
By the end of the warm-up, the Emirates was almost full.
The lights had taken over from the fading daylight.
The noise increased.
Then came the familiar announcement that the teams should return inside.
Francesco walked back toward the dressing room with the others.
There was little conversation now.
The mood had become focused.
Players changed out of their training gear and into the Arsenal match kits.
Shirts.
Shorts.
Socks.
Boots.
The captain's armband went onto Francesco's left arm.
Wenger entered.
The final briefing began.
The lineup was unchanged.
Petr Čech.
Robertson.
Virgil van Dijk.
Laurent Koscielny.
Kyle Walker.
N'Golo Kanté.
Granit Xhaka.
Mesut Özil.
Alexis Sánchez.
Serge Gnabry.
Francesco Lee.
Wenger looked around the room.
"Lyon have quality."
Nobody moved.
"They can keep the ball. Their midfielders are comfortable under pressure, and Fekir will look for space between our lines. Memphis can attack from wide positions and inside. We must not give them unnecessary opportunities."
He pointed toward the board.
"Control the centre. Use the width. Move the ball quickly when they press, but do not force passes simply because we are at home."
Then he looked directly at the forwards.
"Be patient."
Francesco nodded.
Wenger's voice remained calm.
"We are the favourites tonight. That means nothing once the match begins."
A brief pause.
"They will punish careless decisions."
Everyone understood.
Wenger stepped away from the board.
"Play our football."
The players stood.
The walk toward the tunnel was accompanied by the rising noise of the crowd.
Lyon were already there.
Lopes stood near the front with his gloves tucked beneath one arm. Mendy, Denayer, Marcelo and Rafael waited alongside him.
Ndombele, Cheikh and Aouar were speaking quietly.
Cornet bounced lightly on his toes.
Fekir stood with Memphis Depay nearby.
The referees waited between the teams.
Francesco exchanged a nod with Fekir.
No hostility.
Just recognition.
Two captains preparing for ninety minutes.
The teams moved forward.
They lined up beside the officials.
Then the stadium lights seemed to sharpen.
The Champions League anthem began.
The first notes echoed around the Emirates.
The crowd quietened enough for the music to carry.
Francesco stood with his hands behind his back, eyes forward.
He had heard the anthem many times.
It never sounded ordinary.
Especially here.
Especially now.
Three consecutive Champions League titles had brought Arsenal to this moment again.
But tonight was not a celebration of what they had already done.
It was the beginning of another campaign.
The anthem ended.
The players shook hands.
Arsenal.
Lyon.
The referees.
Then came the official starting-eleven photograph.
Francesco stood in the front row, captain's armband visible, while the photographers took several shots.
Afterward, he walked toward the centre circle.
Fekir joined him.
The main referee held the coin.
"Call."
Fekir made his choice.
The coin went into the air.
It landed.
Francesco looked down.
Then toward the referee.
"Right."
The referee confirmed the result.
Arsenal would kick off.
Francesco walked back toward his teammates.
The Emirates was ready.
The referee checked his watch.
And then blew the whistle.
Arsenal immediately took control.
Xhaka dropped between the centre-backs during the first phase while Kanté moved slightly higher.
Özil drifted into the space behind Lyon's midfield.
Alexis remained wide enough to stretch Rafael.
Gnabry did the same on the opposite side.
Francesco stayed between Denayer and Marcelo, constantly shifting.
Lyon pressed.
Arsenal played through it.
Kanté received under pressure, turned away from Ndombele and found Xhaka.
One touch.
Forward.
Özil.
The German midfielder immediately looked up.
Francesco had moved toward the left channel.
Özil played the ball.
Francesco returned it first time.
Alexis collected and switched play toward Gnabry.
The move ended with a cross that Lopes punched away.
The crowd applauded.
Lyon responded.
Aouar found Fekir near the edge of the area, forcing Koscielny to step out.
The Frenchman attempted to slip Memphis through.
Van Dijk read it perfectly.
He intercepted.
"Good," Francesco called.
The match settled into a rhythm.
Arsenal had more possession, but Lyon were never passive.
Ndombele challenged Kanté.
Cheikh tracked Özil.
Aouar tried to exploit the space behind Xhaka.
Fekir repeatedly drifted into dangerous positions.
Wenger stood near the technical area, occasionally pointing toward the midfield.
"Closer!"
"Keep the width!"
"Good!"
The pressure eventually produced something.
Twenty-one minutes.
Arsenal worked the ball across the back before Walker received it on the right.
The full-back carried forward.
Gnabry moved inside.
Özil dragged one midfielder away.
Francesco began his run.
Walker saw it.
He didn't need to take another touch.
The pass was played early, a firm ball into the channel behind Mendy.
Francesco accelerated.
Mendy tried to recover.
Francesco reached the ball first and drove toward the area.
Marcelo stepped across.
Francesco slowed just enough to shift the ball onto his right foot.
Then he finished low across Lopes.
The ball struck the inside of the far post before settling in the net.
1–0.
The Emirates erupted.
Francesco turned immediately toward Walker.
The defender was already running toward him.
"That's yours," Francesco said, pointing at him.
Walker laughed.
"You finished it."
"Because you gave me the ball."
Alexis arrived and pulled both of them into the celebration.
Özil followed.
The noise rolled around the stadium.
One goal.
Nothing more.
Arsenal reset.
Lyon's response was immediate.
They pushed their full-backs higher.
Memphis began drifting inside.
Fekir dropped deeper to receive possession.
For several minutes, Arsenal had to defend.
Čech made a strong save from a low effort after Memphis found space.
Van Dijk cleared a dangerous cross.
Kanté intercepted another Lyon attack.
Francesco dropped back during defensive phases, pointing toward the midfield.
"Stay together!"
Arsenal survived the spell.
Then they began controlling the match again.
At thirty-nine minutes, Alexis received the ball near the left side.
Rafael approached.
Alexis stopped, shifted his weight and moved inside.
Francesco dragged Marcelo toward the centre.
Özil was suddenly free.
Alexis saw him.
A short pass arrived at the perfect moment.
Özil took one touch.
Lopes moved forward.
Özil calmly lifted the ball beyond him.
It dropped into the far corner.
2–0.
The Emirates exploded again.
Alexis ran toward Özil.
"Mesut!"
Özil laughed as his teammates surrounded him.
Francesco reached him last.
"Beautiful."
Özil smiled.
"Thank you."
Wenger clapped once from the touchline.
Then immediately pointed toward the halfway line.
"Concentration!"
Arsenal returned to position.
Lyon were hurt, but they remained dangerous.
The final minutes of the half became tense.
The visitors tried to push forward.
Arsenal defended compactly.
Then, in stoppage time, they won a corner.
Özil walked toward the corner flag.
Players gathered inside the penalty area.
Koscielny stood near the penalty spot.
Van Dijk positioned himself near the far post.
Francesco waited outside.
Özil delivered.
The ball curled toward the centre.
Koscielny attacked it.
His header was powerful and clean.
Lopes reached for it.
Too late.
3–0.
The Emirates erupted for the third time.
Koscielny turned toward the corner flag, fists clenched.
Van Dijk grabbed him.
Francesco joined the celebration, laughing as the defenders surrounded their teammate.
"Perfect timing!"
Koscielny smiled.
"Don't say anything. Let me enjoy it."
The referee checked his watch.
Almost immediately after Arsenal returned to the centre circle, the whistle sounded for halftime.
Three-nil.
The players walked back toward the tunnel.
The Emirates was still roaring.
Inside the dressing room, the mood was pleased but not careless.
Players dropped into their seats.
Water bottles were opened.
Shin pads were adjusted.
Several players were still breathing heavily.
Koscielny sat with his head bowed for a moment, catching his breath after the corner.
Alexis replayed the second goal for Özil.
"That pass was perfect."
Özil smiled.
Francesco took a long drink of water.
Three goals.
A two-goal contribution to the attack.
But the match was only halfway finished.
Wenger entered.
He waited until everyone had settled.
"Good half."
There were a few smiles.
"But we do not need to make this difficult."
He pointed toward the board.
"Three-zero gives us control. Use it."
His finger moved across the midfield.
"Lower the tempo when necessary. Keep the ball. Make them chase."
Then toward the defence.
"Stay alert. No cheap goals."
Finally, toward the forwards.
"We can still attack, but we don't need to turn every possession into an attack."
Francesco nodded.
The message was clear.
The objective was no longer to prove that Arsenal could score.
They had already done that.
Now they had to show they could manage a European match with the same maturity that had helped make them champions.
Wenger looked around once more.
"Control the rhythm."
The players nodded.
"Make Lyon work."
Francesco stood and picked up his shirt.
The room began moving again.
Boots were tightened.
Water bottles were left behind.
Players headed toward the corridor.
The Emirates was waiting.
The Champions League anthem was gone now, replaced by the roar of thousands of supporters anticipating the second half.
Francesco stepped into the tunnel beside Alexis.
Alexis glanced at him.
"Ready?"
Francesco smiled.
"Yeah."
They walked toward the pitch.
Ahead of them, the Lyon players were already emerging.
Three goals separated the sides, as forty-five minutes still remained.
Then the referee raised his whistle, checked that both sides were ready, and then brought it to his lips.
A sharp blast cut through the noise.
Lyon got the ball moving, but Arsenal were already set.
Francesco immediately dropped a few yards, pointing toward Xhaka and Kanté as the midfield shape settled into place. There was no urgency in his movements. No need for it.
The three-goal advantage had changed the nature of the match.
Arsenal did not need to chase another goal.
They needed to make Lyon chase them.
Lopes played short to Marcelo, who carried the ball forward before finding Denayer. The Belgian centre-back looked toward midfield, searching for an opening.
Alexis began to close him down.
Not aggressively.
Just enough to make the next pass uncomfortable.
Denayer played into Ndombele.
Kanté was there.
One touch from the French midfielder, and Kanté stepped across, forcing him to return the ball toward the defence.
The crowd responded with appreciative applause.
Arsenal had started exactly as Wenger wanted.
Calmly.
Čech received the next back pass from Koscielny and took his time.
Memphis moved forward to press him.
Čech waited.
Then he rolled the ball to Van Dijk.
Memphis changed direction.
Van Dijk passed to Robertson.
Fekir moved across.
Robertson found Kanté.
Kanté immediately gave it back.
Robertson had a yard.
That was enough.
He carried forward before finding Xhaka.
Xhaka opened his body and switched play toward Walker on the opposite side.
The ball travelled almost forty yards.
Walker controlled it.
Gnabry had already moved toward the touchline.
Walker passed.
Gnabry returned it first time.
Walker continued his run, but instead of forcing the overlap, Gnabry turned inside and found Özil.
Özil received between the lines.
For a moment, the entire Lyon midfield shifted toward him.
He simply passed backwards.
Xhaka.
Then Van Dijk.
Then Čech.
The move had gone nowhere in terms of territory.
But that was precisely the point.
Lyon had been made to move.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The Emirates crowd began appreciating it.
Every completed pass was met with another layer of applause.
Francesco drifted between Denayer and Marcelo, occasionally dropping toward Özil before spinning away again. Alexis remained available on the left, while Gnabry kept Rafael occupied on the opposite flank.
Neither winger was demanding the ball constantly.
They were waiting.
Choosing their moments.
For nearly ten minutes, Arsenal made Lyon work without allowing the visitors to build any real pressure.
When Lyon pressed high, Čech became an extra passing option.
When Ndombele stepped toward Kanté, Xhaka moved into the space behind him.
When Aouar tried to close Xhaka, Özil drifted into another pocket.
The passing angles seemed to appear naturally.
Lyon could get close.
They simply could not get close enough.
At one point, Memphis finally managed to force a loose pass from Robertson.
He immediately accelerated toward the ball.
Walker was already moving across.
Before Memphis could reach it, Kanté stepped in and took possession.
The midfielder looked up.
Three Lyon players were around him.
He calmly slipped the ball to Xhaka.
Xhaka returned it.
Kanté moved again.
A simple exchange.
Nothing spectacular.
But it removed Lyon's pressure completely.
"Good," Wenger called from the technical area.
He did not ask them to attack.
He didn't need to.
The next five minutes followed the same pattern.
Arsenal circulated possession through the back four and midfield, rarely holding the ball for too long and rarely taking a needless risk.
The players were conserving energy without looking passive.
That distinction mattered.
They were still defending from the front.
Still offering movement.
Still making Lyon uncomfortable.
Francesco pressed when the opportunity presented itself, then immediately recovered his position.
Alexis switched sides with Gnabry for a few moments, dragging Lyon's defensive shape apart before returning to their normal positions.
Özil continued drifting.
The German rarely stayed in one place for more than a few seconds.
And whenever Lyon thought they had finally closed the available space, another Arsenal player appeared with an angle for the pass.
By the hour mark, the visitors were beginning to look frustrated.
Fekir attempted to carry the ball through the centre.
Koscielny stepped across.
The challenge was clean.
Van Dijk collected the loose ball.
Instead of clearing it, he played into Kanté.
Arsenal kept possession.
The crowd applauded again.
Wenger watched with his arms folded.
There was satisfaction in his expression, but not complacency.
He knew what the next phase required.
And gradually, Arsenal began to turn the screw.
The tempo increased almost imperceptibly.
First, Xhaka began playing his passes a little earlier.
Then Özil started receiving on the half-turn.
Robertson pushed higher.
Walker followed.
Gnabry moved inside.
Alexis came closer to Francesco.
Suddenly the passing became sharper.
One touch.
Two touches.
Move.
Pass.
Move again.
Lyon were still trying to press, but now they were being asked to react to Arsenal rather than dictate where the ball went.
In the sixty-third minute, Özil received from Xhaka and immediately released Robertson down the left.
The full-back surged forward.
Alexis had already moved inside.
Robertson played into him.
Alexis touched it around the corner.
Francesco was there.
A flick.
Özil continued his run.
The German returned the ball with a first-time pass into the space behind the Lyon midfield.
Özil had barely finished moving before Robertson was already overlapping again.
The attack eventually broke down when Denayer intercepted the final cross, but the Emirates responded with a roar.
That was Arsenal.
They could slow a game down until the opposition became impatient.
Then, without warning, they could make the ball move faster than anyone could react.
Lyon survived the warning.
They did not survive the next one.
Sixty-nine minutes.
Kanté won the ball just inside Arsenal's half after Aouar tried to force a pass through the middle.
He immediately found Xhaka.
Xhaka turned.
Özil dropped toward him.
The German received and, with one touch, moved the ball into the right channel for Walker.
Walker was already running.
Gnabry was wider.
The German winger took the pass and accelerated.
Rafael moved toward him.
Gnabry slowed.
For a split second, it looked as though he might cut inside.
Instead, he pushed the ball beyond Rafael and continued toward the byline.
Walker overlapped on the outside.
Francesco drove toward the near post.
Alexis drifted behind him.
Marcelo had to make a decision.
He followed Francesco.
That left Alexis free.
Gnabry saw it.
His cross was not high.
It was pulled sharply across the six-yard area.
Alexis arrived at exactly the right moment.
One touch.
Right foot.
Into the roof of the net.
4–0.
The Emirates exploded.
Alexis wheeled away toward the corner, arms spread wide.
Gnabry was already chasing him.
"That was you!" Alexis shouted.
Gnabry laughed.
"Finally!"
Francesco reached them and grabbed Gnabry around the shoulders.
"Perfect ball."
Gnabry shook his head.
"You made the run."
"And you found him," Francesco replied.
Alexis pointed toward Gnabry.
"Exactly."
More teammates arrived.
Kanté.
Xhaka.
Özil.
Walker.
For several seconds, they were simply a group of players enjoying another beautifully constructed Arsenal goal.
Then Francesco looked toward the halfway line.
"Come on."
They broke away from the celebration.
Four goals.
Twenty minutes remaining.
There was still work to do.
Wenger was already making his next decision.
At the seventy-second minute, the fourth official raised the substitution board.
Three numbers appeared.
Francesco.
Özil.
Alexis.
The Emirates gave all three a warm reception.
Francesco slowed as he approached the touchline.
Wenger stood waiting.
The manager offered his hand.
"Well done."
"Thank you."
"You've done your part."
Francesco smiled.
"So have they."
Wenger gave him a brief nod.
"Exactly."
Francesco stepped off.
The supporters applauded loudly as he walked toward the bench, and he turned toward the stands, raising one hand in acknowledgement.
Alexis came off beside him, clapping toward the crowd.
Özil followed.
Their replacements were ready.
Olivier Giroud came on for Francesco.
Emile Smith Rowe replaced Özil.
Bukayo Saka replaced Alexis.
Wenger spoke briefly to each of them as they crossed the line.
"Stay intelligent. Keep the ball moving."
At almost the same moment, Lyon made their own changes.
Rafael was withdrawn for Léo Dubois.
Fekir made way for Lucas Tousart.
Cornet was replaced by Bertrand Traoré.
Génésio was clearly searching for a way to change the rhythm.
But Arsenal had already taken most of the oxygen out of the game.
From the bench, Francesco pulled a jacket over his shoulders and sat beside the substitutes.
Giroud immediately settled into the centre-forward position.
Saka took up the left side.
Smith Rowe found space behind him.
The structure remained intact.
Kanté continued screening the defence.
Xhaka controlled the deeper passing.
Robertson and Walker adjusted their positioning depending on the situation.
Van Dijk and Koscielny remained composed at the back.
Čech continued organizing everything from behind them.
Lyon tried to raise the tempo.
Traoré carried the ball forward and attempted to isolate Robertson.
The full-back stayed patient and forced him toward the outside.
Cross.
Van Dijk headed clear.
Tousart collected the second ball and tried to recycle it.
Xhaka stepped forward.
Arsenal regained possession.
Rather than launch another attack, Xhaka played back to Van Dijk.
The Emirates responded with another appreciative murmur.
From the bench, Francesco watched the sequence with a small smile.
That was what Wenger had wanted.
Not just winning.
Understanding when to attack and when not to.
Smith Rowe soon found himself involved.
The young midfielder received from Saka, turned away from pressure and found Giroud.
Giroud held the ball up, waited for support and returned it.
Saka accelerated into the space.
His cross was blocked.
Corner.
Arsenal took it short.
Another minute disappeared.
Lyon continued looking for something.
A goal.
A chance.
Anything that might give them momentum.
But Arsenal's defensive structure refused to break.
Čech saved comfortably from a long-range effort.
Robertson cleared another dangerous ball.
Koscielny won a header.
Van Dijk stepped in front of Traoré.
Kanté intercepted yet another pass through the centre.
The minutes passed.
Seventy-eight.
Eighty-one.
Eighty-four.
The match had become a contest of patience rather than desperation.
The Emirates remained loud, but the noise had changed. Supporters were no longer demanding another goal.
They were enjoying the control.
The football.
The feeling of watching their team manage a European night with authority.
Wenger stood near the touchline, occasionally giving instructions.
"Keep the shape."
"Don't rush."
"Good, Granit."
Francesco watched his teammates continue doing exactly that.
At one point, Saka received the ball near the left corner and held it under pressure from Dubois.
Rather than attempting something spectacular, he passed back to Robertson.
Robertson found Xhaka.
Xhaka found Kanté.
Kanté switched to Walker.
The ball travelled across the pitch again.
Lyon followed.
Then Giroud dropped into midfield, received a pass and brought Saka into play.
The youngster returned it.
Arsenal moved forward.
The attack ended with a blocked shot, but the important thing was that the team had maintained its structure throughout.
Five minutes remained.
Lyon's players were beginning to accept the reality of the scoreboard.
Their attacks became less frequent.
Arsenal's became more selective.
When the referee finally checked his watch in the final minute, the Emirates rose to its feet.
The supporters began singing.
Čech held the ball after a harmless cross.
He waited a moment.
Then rolled it out to Van Dijk.
The centre-back passed to Koscielny.
Koscielny found Robertson.
Another sequence.
Another few seconds.
The referee finally brought the whistle to his lips.
One final blast.
The match was over.
Arsenal 4.
Lyon 0.
For a moment, the players simply stood where they were.
Then the applause began.
Francesco rose from the bench and joined the others near the edge of the pitch.
Giroud walked over first.
"Good night for you."
Francesco smiled.
"Good night for everyone."
Gnabry came over next.
"You saw the fourth?"
"I did."
"Beautiful."
"It was."
Alexis laughed from nearby.
"Obviously."
Francesco shook his head.
"You're impossible."
The players gathered to acknowledge the supporters.
They applauded each stand in turn, with Saka and Smith Rowe receiving especially warm cheers as the Emirates celebrated another convincing European performance.
Wenger remained near the technical area for a moment, speaking with members of his staff.
He looked satisfied.
Not ecstatic.
Satisfied.
The result had been exactly what he wanted.
A strong opening to the group stage.
Four goals.
A clean sheet.
Three points.
And, perhaps most importantly, ninety minutes in which Arsenal had shown they could control the rhythm of a match rather than simply dominate it through constant attacking.
Eventually Wenger walked toward the players.
"Good work."
Kanté nodded.
Xhaka smiled.
Koscielny was still joking about his first-half goal.
Wenger allowed himself a brief laugh.
Then he added, "But remember, this is one match."
The players listened.
"Three points," he continued. "Good. But there are five matches left."
Francesco looked around at his teammates.
The Emirates was still singing.
The Champions League campaign had begun exactly as Arsenal would have wanted.
They had not simply won.
They had managed the game.
They had slowed it when necessary, accelerated when the opportunity appeared, defended together, attacked together and trusted the structure Wenger had spent years building.
Francesco had contributed with the opening goal.
Özil had added another.
Koscielny had scored before halftime.
Alexis had finished the fourth.
But from the bench, Francesco understood that the most satisfying part of the night had been watching the entire team function as one.
He applauded the supporters once more.
Then he turned toward the tunnel with the others.
The first European night of the season was finished.
Arsenal had their first three points in Group F.
And as the players disappeared beneath the stands, the defending three-time consecutive champions had sent their first message of the new campaign without needing to shout it.
__________________________________________________
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: 7
Goal: 9
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