The ball's in!
One to one!
Ma'el's shot tied the score for the Arsenal U17 team, bringing both sides back to an even starting line.
"Yeah...!!"
"Oh ho! What a shot, who is that kid?"
"Well done!"
The Arsenal fans on the sidelines immediately erupted in cheers, with many standing up to applaud, celebrating Ma'el's goal.
Even as spectators, they could clearly feel the thrill of the powerful shot tearing through the net.
In their hearts, this team was not only a club team but also their team, and these young players were their future as well.
Some even shouted out encouragement for Ma'el, hoping to see him in the first team someday.
On the coach's bench, Hans quickly stood up and applauded, with a joyful expression, staring fixedly at Ma'el's back.
He wasn't sure if he was more joyous about the team equalizing or about Ma'el's recent crazy improvement.
"A very good long shot."
A somewhat unexpected voice came from behind him, it was Wenger, speaking proactively, "This must stem from his recent long shot practice, right?"
"I think so, Mr. Wenger."
Hans's expression showed some surprise, as he didn't know Wenger was also paying attention to Ma'el. "I've often reminded him to focus on his body and not overtrain, but I still couldn't stop him."
"He seems to have some obsession, unwilling to give up until he reaches his goal, perhaps related to his family environment."
Wenger nodded instinctively, saying, "If possible, let him..."
Sensing that this might be inappropriate, he immediately corrected himself, "Never mind, you are the head coach of the U17, I shouldn't say this."
Hans didn't respond, but he already understood.
To be honest, after this goal, his view was almost identical to Mr. Wenger's.
Near Liverpool's penalty area, Arsenal players lit up when they saw the ball hit the net, exclaiming as they rushed towards Ma'el.
"Beautiful!!"
"I knew it was going in!"
"One to one is much easier to play."
Most of them were already impressed by Ma'el's improved strength, except for Ian and other stubborn ones who still stayed in defense, neither coming over nor speaking.
After scoring, Ma'el laughed out loud, feeling a flame of excitement igniting in his heart, a surge of power driving him to run towards the corner flag to celebrate.
He didn't know whether he learned this from watching stars on TV or if it was an instinct when excited.
In any case, the feeling of scoring was very nice!
"Even though technically it's not my assist."
Captain Gilbert was the first to reach his side, lifting him high, "But the corner kick was assisted by me, so I feel somewhat involved."
"There'll be more."
Ma'el smiled confidently, feeling that this match wouldn't end just like this.
...…
After a short celebration, the match returned to normal.
As the match passed the thirty-minute mark, with both sides gradually adapting to each other's rhythm, the balance on the field slowly tilted towards Liverpool.
After all, they were using their full main squad, whereas Arsenal only had four main players.
At the beginning, everyone might have played cautiously and according to plan, but once they let go, some gaps gradually appeared.
"Boom!!"
"Whoosh!!"
The gap began to manifest on the field, with Liverpool launching continuous threatening attacks, creating a tense atmosphere in front of Arsenal's goal, with soccer balls frequently flying in at high speed.
In the forty-fourth minute of the match, Liverpool's second goal arrived.
"Boom!"
They executed a wave of attacking climax in the front field, first completing a header shot from a low cross, and after the ball was saved by Arsenal's goalkeeper Hopkins, Liverpool's No. 9 quickly followed up with another shot.
"Thud!" This shot was unlucky, hitting the post and bouncing back into the penalty area.
Fortunately, another Liverpool midfielder followed up, using a solid instep shot to finish it off.
Two to one!
Liverpool's players joyfully rushed to the sideline again, the goal scorer surreptitiously glancing towards Wenger, hoping to catch his attention.
But Wenger had no time to pay attention to them, instead frowning at the team's defensive line in the backfield, his eyes filled with disappointment.
Conceding two second balls consecutively in their own penalty area was a rather fatal mistake.
"Get back on defense! We're short on numbers!"
On the field, Ian spread his hands, with an expression of frustration, "We've been pressing for a while, and still no one comes back."
"Including the goalkeeper, there are eight people near the penalty area, not too few."
Captain Gilbert glared at him, already having some dislike for this person, yelling every time they conceded, clearly trying to sabotage something.
"If we were at full strength, this goal wouldn't have been conceded."
Ian was relentless, flaunting superiority, especially when he saw some trial players lowering their heads in self-blame, exacerbating his behavior: "I really don't know how some people play, how they got to wear the Arsenal jersey?"
This time, not only Gilbert and Ma'el but others also felt aversion towards him.
Even Wenger on the sideline turned to look at Hans, "This person..."
"I'll handle him after the game."
Hans secretly gritted his teeth, almost wishing to condemn Ian to hell.
And what Arsenal was suffering at the moment was far from over. After a fifteen-minute halftime break, the second half started again.
Liverpool continued their fierce attack, with their offensive players seemingly having gauged Arsenal's weaknesses, pressing forward in an attempt to keep the battle for ball possession entirely in Arsenal's half.
"Boom!!"
In the fifty-first minute, Liverpool's No. 6 captain midfielder delivered a sudden long shot as a counterattack.
Ian rushed forward to slide tackle and block, only to be unlucky—it's like bad luck on top of bad luck, the ball deflected off the outside of his calf, catching goalkeeper Hopkins off guard.
Another one went in!
Three to one!
"Ah...!" Ian was almost about to break down, standing up, head down, and hands on hips.
He temporarily put Ma'el and others out of his mind, focusing on his future. Based on today's performance, it's unlikely Wenger would value him.
He felt regretful, wishing he had been more focused on his game from the very start.
"Get the ball over here, there's still time, but don't waste it all in regret."
A voice urged from the front field, it was Ma'el's voice, who seemed far from giving up.
Goalkeeper Hopkins picked up the ball, kicked it to Ma'el, and gave him a thumbs up.
"Damn it."
Ian felt downcast, deeply jealous that Ma'el scored—if he could have performed brilliantly, no matter how many goals the team conceded, it wouldn't have mattered to him.
"Beep!"
Shortly after, the match restarted, with Arsenal's fighting spirit clearly subdued, only a few still maintaining a battle-ready look in their eyes.
They didn't hold the ball possession for long after the restart, as it was quickly snatched by Liverpool players, continuing their siege.
It felt like being caught in a vicious cycle, with Arsenal players unable to find any breakthrough, appearing somewhat powerless.
Until the sixty-seventh minute, when team captain Gilbert, after receiving a back pass from Ma'el, began his performance.
"Thump thump thump..."
He dribbled the ball directly towards Liverpool's defense line, using the outside of his right foot for high-frequency touches, constantly shifting his center of gravity and making deceptive moves.
One push, one pull, another pull, pushing the ball forward!
Suddenly, he broke through from Liverpool's triple defense, charging into their penalty area.
"Boom!"
The final push shot was like the perfect finishing move of a gorgeous waltz, elegant and smooth.
Two to three!
There's still a chance!
Captain Gilbert displayed with one brilliant moment why he was Arsenal's captain and why he needed to anchor the central axis today.