The final score was 3-0. A complete, dominant, and utterly deserved victory against one of the giants of English football. As the final whistle blew, the stadium was a cauldron of noise, the fans singing their hearts out, their faces filled with a mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated pride. Emma was ecstatic, hugging me tightly, her voice hoarse from shouting.
"Can you believe it, Danny? We thrashed them! We actually thrashed Arsenal!" I smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached my eyes.
"I can," I said, my voice quiet but firm. Because I could. I had seen it happen every day on the training pitch at Beckenham. I had seen the potential, the raw, untapped talent. I had seen what was possible when you had a clear, coherent tactical philosophy and a group of players willing to run through brick walls for you.
