T/N:No chapters on Monday.
. . .
"Hey! Gentlemen! Let's take a break!"
Father Roy stepped forward, calling a halt to the game. The old men glanced up, their eyes scanning past Father Roy and Martin Hughes before landing squarely on Le Kai.
"Oh~~~!!!"
One of them shouted, voice cracking with excitement. "Let me see! Is it really Kai?!"
"God! It's really Kai!"
"Hey! Our captain!"
"Are we not playing anymore?"
"Playing what?!"
Le Kai found himself surrounded by hands and patting shoulders, arms, and thighs. The old men's energy was unrestrained, their voices running together.
"So strong!"
"Even bigger than on TV!"
"That's how he knocked Lamela over!"
"Hahaha! That was brilliant!"
Le Kai stood awkwardly, unsure how to respond. He glanced at Martin Hughes, who smiled and clapped his hands. "Gentlemen, I know you're excited, but I don't think you want to keep Kai standing here all day, do you?"
"That's right! Let's sit! We have things to chat about!"
"I have so much to say, mate!"
Le Kai was practically swept along as they moved to a patch of grass in the corner. Six old men settled around him, introducing themselves: Old Jack, Max, Robinson, Locke, Bob, and Karl.
"The club holds events like this every year. Fabregas and Van Persie have been here before, but they don't hold a candle to you!"
"Hey! Bob, you said the same about them before," Karl teased, old face flushed. "How was I supposed to know they'd betray us? If I had known, I would've challenged them to a one-on-one."
"And end up in the hospital to scam them for fines?"
Hahaha!
The group erupted into laughter. Le Kai watched, smiling at their camaraderie.
Someone nudged him with an elbow. He turned to see Old Jack grinning. "I've watched your games—you're incredible. Reminds me of Graham."
A murmur of disapproval rose immediately.
"That's a traitor!"
"You can't mention him!"
Old Jack shrugged. "Even though he coached Tottenham, we can't deny his achievements. In the '80s and '90s, he made Arsenal dominant."
"And he helped us win our only European Cup, The Cup Winners' Cup!"
"But he joined Tottenham—that's the worst betrayal!" Bob barked. "Mate, we're Arsenal fans. You cannot defend a traitor!"
Old Jack pouted and fell silent. The mood grew slightly tense.
Le Kai grinned to ease it. "Which match left the deepest impression on you?"
"The 1950-51 season, we…"
"The 1964-65 season…"
Voices overlapped, memories flowing rapidly.
Bob finally shouted over everyone. "Of course, it's the Double of 1970-71! Premier League and FA Cup in the same season!"
Eyes lit up, laughter spreading.
"That's right! Most exciting moment ever!"
"I forgot about that match!"
"Hahaha! And winning at White Hart Lane, the look on those Tottenham Hotspur Fans' faces—priceless!"
Old Jack added weakly, "Graham was in that winning squad too…"
"Shut up, Karl!"
"For f**k sake!"
"You always ruin the moment!"
"Tottenham spy!"
Laughter and scolding filled the air, and Le Kai shook his head, amused.
Karl leaned closer.
"Arsenal is a club with tradition. Sometimes we're mocked, sometimes we frustrate ourselves, but no one can deny our will to win. From the '70s onward, Arsenal became a Premier League mainstay. Wenger helped us become a giant. Many question us, but we are a giant club."
He paused, smiling bitterly. "I want to tell you, though, despite our domestic strength, Europe has been cruel. Without the Champions League, you're never fully a giant. Repeated failures wore us down. We hoped for someone to lead us to that trophy, but over time, hope faded."
Le Kai noticed the subtle gloom settling over their faces.
Old Jack's shoulders slumped even more. "We don't even know if we'll live to see Arsenal lift the Champions League trophy."
Karl lowered his head, voice quiet. "That's the dream we hold onto."
Robinson added, "We came so close once, but we couldn't take it. Even now, I still have nightmares. That red card… it cost us the Champions League."
Le Kai stayed silent.
Arsenal fans crave that trophy more than anything. Every fan wants their team to taste Champions League glory. But for Arsenal, the opportunity slipped away once, and the regret still lingers. The title of 'pseudo-giant club' still stings. Repeated failures and the club's decline have made hope feel distant.
Then Karl looked at Le Kai, a sudden smile lighting his face. "Do you know why you're so popular?"
Le Kai blinked. "Because I'm the captain?"
Karl shook his head.
Le Kai rubbed his chin, grinning shamelessly. "Because I'm handsome?"
Karl froze for a second, then laughed, and the others joined in.
"You're young, but not handsome!" Karl teased.
Le Kai rolled his eyes.
"Then why?" he asked, frowning.
Karl leaned forward. "Because of change."
"Change?"
"Yes," Karl nodded. "Your arrival has transformed Arsenal. Compared to the team before, you've brought a complete shift in how this club feels."
Le Kai frowned. "But we still play possession-based football."
Karl winked. "The old Arsenal didn't play defensive counter-attacking football."
Old Jack muttered, "Graham…"
"Shut up the f**k up!"
Karl laughed. "This change is uncontrollable, but the current Arsenal needs it. We've tried many approaches over the years, and most failed. We need a kind of change that even we can't fully predict—and that our opponents can't control."
"And you brought that. Even if sometimes… we play very, very stupidly!" Karl grinned. "No offense, but sometimes you guys run around like headless chickens."
Le Kai remained silent, blinking.
Karl laughed again. "But it's in that chaos that we find opportunities to score, rare and precious ones. The opponents don't know what we'll do, and sometimes neither do we—but goals appear!"
He waved his hands as his voice grew more excited. "It breaks all patterns, all rules! Suddenly, out of nowhere, a chance! That unpredictability—that's what excites us!"
Karl's eyes sparkled, drawing everyone in. "What if… what if it happens this season? What if—this is the year?"
"That's the Champions League!"
"That's the trophy we've dreamed of!"
"That's a moment to witness history!"
Karl stood up and, with cloudy eyes gleaming, raised his arms wide as he imagined the red-and-white sea of fans, flags flying high.
"Champions League! Champions League! The Arsenal! The Arsenal!"
"So beautiful~," He whispered.
. . .
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