God Of football

Chapter 406: New Dog In The Yard

A gasp rose from the crowd as Izan surged forward, running 10 yards in two touches.

He didnʼt try anything fancy—not here. The vision clicked in immediately.

To his right, he spotted the blur of Saka making a perfectly timed dart between Aït-Nouri and Kilman.

Izan snapped a low pass into space for him.

Guy Mowbrayʼs voice sharpened. ”And Arsenal are in again! Izan—winning it, feeding it, and now Sakaʼs flying down the right!”

The Emirates had barely sat back down. Now they were back on their feet again.

Saka took the ball in stride, controlled but quick, his boots whispering across the grass as he carved through the flank.

Ødegaard sprinted into the box. Havertz peeled left. Even Calafiori was making up ground behind.

Saka reached the edge of the final third and slowed just a fraction, glancing up.

”Here we go again…” Mowbray breathed.

The whole stadium felt it.

Saka had the ball.

And someone was about to get it.

The Englishman took a deep breath and then made his move, shaping his body like he might cut back or shoot—but instead, he slipped the ball low and fast across the face of the goal.

It was the perfect delivery. Teasing. Wicked. The kind that begged for the final touch.

Havertz was the first to dive in at the near post. His boot slid just under the ball by inches.

Next came Martinelli, arriving like a bullet from the left. He stretched, studs scraping the turf—but the ball skipped by him too, untouched.

Ødegaard arrived last, slowing his run just slightly, trying to read the path. He stepped and lunged but he also missed it by a hairʼs width.

Gasps rippled through the Emirates.

”Oh, itʼs gone past everyone! How has no one touched that?” Mowbrayʼs voice mirrored the disbelief.

The ball was still alive, barely rolling, losing speed, dragging itself toward the far post—too slow to carry itself into the net, too fast for anyone else to react.

For a moment, it seemed it would go down as a missed chance.

But then—sliding into the frame like a figure written into the moment—Izan came crashing in from deep.

No one had seen him at first.

Not the Wolves defense. Not the crowd.

But now—here he was. Shirt flapping, studs carving lines through the grass, eyes fixed solely on the ball.

He extended his leg at the last possible moment, just enough to prod it toward goal.

The ball bobbled, rolled then nestled into the inner side netting sending the Emirates Crowd roaring.

”HEʼS DONE IT AGAIN!” Mowbray roared. ”IZAN WITH THE SLIDE—AND ITʼS THREE-NIL ARSENAL!”

The sound swelled to deafening levels as the Emirates exploded.

Fans on their feet, arms in the air, mouths open in stunned joy.

”Just when it looked like the moment had passed, itʼs the sixteen-year-old—again—arriving like a flash of lightning to turn it in! What a run. What awareness. What desire!”

Mikel Arteta spun from the touchline, fists clenched, letting out a yell toward his bench.

”Yes! Thatʼs it!” he shouted, hugging Carlos Cuesta. His expression was pure adrenaline.

On the Wolves bench, Gary OʼNeil could only lower his head into his palm, exhaling. ”Unbelievable,” he muttered.

Back on the pitch, Izan rose from his slide with a cheeky smile, grass stains down one leg, arms stretched wide toward the North Bank as his teammates rushed to meet him.

Martinelli reached him first, jumping onto his back. Then Ødegaard, Havertz, Saka.

They were laughing, yelling, pointing to the crowd and then to Izan.

Another moment. Another roar.

....

As Izan jogged back toward the halfway line, grinning as he exchanged a few words with Ødegaard and tapped fists with Saka, the Emirates crowd was still on its feet, chanting his name.

Guy Mowbrayʼs voice carried through the wave of noise, laced with admiration and just a hint of wonder.

”Well, if there was any doubt about how this young man would take to Premier League football… I think we have our answer now.”

Izan gave a little wave to the stands as he crossed the halfway line, his face flushed but composed—eyes scanning the field, already resetting.

”A brace. On your debut. At the Emirates,” Mowbray continued, letting the significance of it settle.

”You donʼt write scripts like this unless the player is special. And Izan—well, heʼs just made his mark in the boldest, most brilliant fashion.”

The camera cut to a shot of Arteta on the sideline, nodding quietly, arms folded across his chest—clearly pleased.

Mowbray carried on, tone softening slightly with reflection,

”Two very different goals, but both telling. The ice in his veins from the spot… and now this—pure instinct, timing, hunger. What a way to introduce yourself.”

As the referee signaled for Wolves to restart, the camera lingered one more moment on Izan.

”Welcome to the Premier League, Izan. Youʼve arrived, and youʼve arrived in style.”

As play resumed following Arsenalʼs third goal, the tempo noticeably slowed.

Wolves, bruised and breathless, tried to retain shape and composure, but their sting had dulled.

Arsenal, on the other hand, seemed content to manage the game—controlling possession, shifting the ball patiently, and probing without urgency.

Izan, now a clear standout, didnʼt try to force anything.

He kept the ball moving, playing neat one-twos and keeping the tempo ticking as the minutes passed.

The Emirates crowd, still buzzing from his brace, gave a little cheer every time he touched the ball.

By the 73rd minute, Mikel Arteta turned to his bench.

The job, for now, was done. He gestured toward Jorginho and gave a nod toward Izan.

The fourth official raised his board on the sideline—”10 OFF, 20 ON.”

Izan saw the board and turned towards the touchline.

As he jogged toward the touchline, the Emirates crowd responded with immediate appreciation.

A rolling wave of applause spread through the stadium, growing louder with every step he took toward the bench.

Some fans even stood up, scarves raised in salute.

”Coming off now is the young man whoʼs absolutely stolen the show today,” said Guy Mowbray, his tone carrying both warmth and confidence.

”Two goals on his debut, a penalty that had jaws dropping, and now a deserved rest. What a performance.”

Izan gave a thumbs-up to the supporters as he stepped off, bumping fists with Arteta, who leaned in to say a ”well done.”

Jorginho jogged onto the pitch, immediately sliding into that deeper role to allow Ødegaard more freedom to push forward.

”And now the reins pass to the experienced head of Jorginho,” Mowbray added.

”But make no mistake—the name on everyoneʼs lips at full-time will be Izanʼs.”

As the game resumed, the Arsenal fans kept clapping just a little longer, letting the 16-year-old know that theyʼd remember this debut for a long, long time.

.....

As Izan made his way off the pitch in the 73rd minute, his performance was already turning heads across the Premier League.

His debut had been a statement—one that left a lasting impression on both fans and players alike.

At Manchester City, Jack Grealish exchanged a glance with his teammates as they watched the young Arsenal midfielder.

”That kidʼs got something,” Grealish said. ”Composure like that? Heʼs definitely one to watch.”

Phil Foden nodded, clearly impressed. ”You can see the confidence in his play. Heʼs not fazed by the big stage. Exceptional from a new kid on the block ”

Meanwhile, at Old Trafford, Bruno Fernandes watched the match, his thoughts clear.

”That was cheeky, that penalty. Heʼs got confidence—something you canʼt fake.”

Lisandro Martínez, sitting next to him, agreed. ”Weʼll see how he handles the pressure, but today, he looked like he belonged.”

Down in London, Chelseaʼs new Coach, Enzo Maresca, watching from Chelseaʼs Cobham training ground, had his staff taking notes.

”Heʼs got potential,” he said. ”Itʼs just one match, but his intelligence, the way he reads the game, that could be a problem for us later.”

His assistant added, ”Itʼs the little things—he anticipates the game well. He could become a key player.”

Liverpoolʼs Arne Slot, watching from Melwood, was equally impressed.

”Heʼs something special,” he said, his voice laced with admiration.

”Itʼs only the first match, but you can see heʼs not intimidated by the Premier League.

His control, his presence—theyʼre rare. We should have really put in the effort to sign him.”

Even Ange Postecoglou at Tottenhamʼs Hotspur Way couldnʼt help but notice Izanʼs impact.

”I donʼt like admitting it, but that kidʼs got something,” he said, his voice thoughtful. ”One to watch for sure. If he keeps playing like this, heʼll be a major threat.”

Across the league, rivals were making mental notes.

It was too early to say whether Izanʼs move had truly worked out, but the match against Wolves had shown that there was a new player on the scene.

The young midfielder had made his mark, and whether or not his success was just beginning, the Premier League had a new big dog in the yard.

A/n: Okay. First of the day. I have Calculus today so might not hear from me again but donʼt worry, I never fail to keep up with the updates. Anyways Have fun reading and I might see you when iʼm still okay after the test.