From Arsenal to the Ball God

”Play well.”

Before they parted, Ma’el extended his right hand for a high-five and said expectantly, ”I’m waiting for your assist. Although the volley won’t work, I’ve got the ball stopping.”

”Okay!” Alexander Song winked at Ma’el and clenched his fist.

......

”Boom!”

In the 68th minute, center-back Vermaelen sent a long pass towards the left side, hitting the target with great precision.

Ma’el positioned himself back-to-back with Danny Simpson, tugging lightly at his jersey, not exerting force, just to feel the opponent’s movements and prevent an unexpected advance for a header clearance.

Danny Simpson awkwardly nudged back and forth, but every time he moved, Ma’el adjusted his body posture to keep him positioned behind him.

This was extremely uncomfortable.

His cheeks burned hotly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and deep helplessness.

”Pa.” The football landed precisely on Ma’el’s right instep, which he controlled steadily, seeking an opportunity to turn.

Danny Simpson sensed the intention and had to make a last-ditch effort, using all his strength to knee Ma’el in the thigh, hoping to block him.

He was extremely nervous, so when he saw Ma’el’s left shoulder drop, he quickly shifted all his force to the left, thinking Ma’el would carry the ball towards the left inside.

”Boom.” A light tapping sound, Ma’el nudged the ball with the outside of his right foot towards the right, slipping past near the touchline.

The pressure on Danny Simpson instantly vanished, but he didn’t react in time, his legs still straining forward... Once his grip was lost, he stumbled forward as if stepping into thin air.

This awkward figure made Ma’el, who usually played with simple and straightforward style, appear somewhat graceful.

”Clap clap clap...!” Applause and cheers erupted from the Arsenal fan section, as fans encouraged Ma’el for his impressive performance.

Ma’el charged towards the goal line with the ball, steadily approaching the danger zone of the penalty area, the next one to rush at him was Newcastle’s midfield player Barton.

Barton came over visibly upset, having already endured too much humiliation today, he couldn’t bear seeing an opponent player show off in his own half.

When Ma’el changed direction again towards the outside line, whether deliberately or instinctively, Barton forcefully stuck his foot between Ma’el and the ball.

Ma’el couldn’t stop in time, his legs collided with Barton’s, losing balance and tumbling to the side.

”Beep!”

The referee’s whistle rang, Barton immediately placed his hands beside his head, feigning innocence, as he turned and ran toward the penalty area, wanting to leave the scene early.

”Aye!”

Wenger on the sideline raised his right hand, face fuming, pressuring the referee.

In the Arsenal fan section, people began standing, mimicking the motion of pulling out a yellow card, knowing Barton already had one, and another would send him off.

”Twice already!”

The most agitated in the Arsenal lineup was right-winger Gervinho, he had several clashes with Barton and long wanted him off the field.

He quickly reached the referee’s side, complaining, ”After the yellow card, you’ve let him off twice already!”

The referee waved his hands around his body, signaling Arsenal players not to approach him, as he’d quickly run over knowing his judgment.

Under the tense gaze of tens of thousands of Newcastle United fans, he reached for the pocket on his left chest, pulled out a yellow card, and raised it high, ”Newcastle’s number 7 Barton, yellow card!”

Then, he lowered the yellow card, reached behind his back pocket, and pulled out a red card, ”Two yellows turn into a red, please leave the field immediately!”

Red card!

Newcastle will have one less player!

”Walt?!”

Barton quickly turned and realized he couldn’t escape this red card, he stormed towards the referee, creating a scene: ”Is this action even deserving of a yellow card? It wasn’t a scoring opportunity, just a regular foul!”

”Hiss hiss hiss...!”

The home fans at St James’ Park Stadium erupted again, seizing this new focal point, which might serve as their excuse for a loss.

”Arsenal bribed the referee!”

”This isn’t a fair match!”

”Both teams’ foul counts are similar, so why do we have 2 more yellow cards?”

”The English FA only favors big teams, and their referees do too!”

”Unacceptable!”

It was a logical progression... they spewed conspiracy theories using the yellow card incident, blaming everything, including the unfavorable score, on Arsenal’s advantage with the referee.

Wenger’s mouth twitched on the sideline, with a somewhat sarcastic smile, he chose not to argue with the fans, simply returning to the coaching seat after seeing the referee pull out the red card.

Having been in the Premier League for so many years, he had seen such situations often and knew there was no point in explaining.

But he would thoroughly abandon the thought of leaving the opponent any face and hoped his pupils would continue to score and utterly defeat them!

”Clap clap clap clap...!” On the pitch, Gervinho slapped his hands with exhilaration, as he stood beside the referee.

Seemingly encouraging the referee, actually mocking Barton at the side.

”Fack...!” Barton cursed angrily at him before leaving the field, wanting to charge forward, but his teammates pulled him away.

His words carried no real force, only bringing more fervent applause from Gervinho, whose hands pointed higher, with clearer intent.