God Of football

Chapter 419: Post-Match[GT bonus - ]

The bus rolled up to the familiar entrance of the Colney Complex, the sound of the engine winding down as it came to a stop.

The evening air was crisp as Izan stepped off, stretching his legs after the long ride.

His mind was still spinning from the match, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but the thought of getting home soothed him.

As the other players made their way toward the locker room, he started to head in the same direction, but then he heard a voice behind him.

”You heading out this way?” It was Martin Ødegaard, the captain, glancing over at Izan.

”Yeah,” Izan replied, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. ”I was going to call a driver, but I donʼt want to disturb him—he might be asleep by now.”

Ødegaard smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. ”No problem. Iʼm heading that way too. Iʼll give you a ride.”

Izan raised an eyebrow, but the offer was too good to turn down. ”Thanks, mate. You sure?”

”Yeah, itʼs no trouble,” Ødegaard said, already moving toward his car.

Izan followed, nodding his appreciation as they walked through the lot to Ødegaardʼs sleek vehicle.

The two exchanged a few quiet words as the engine roared to life, the hum of the car filling the space between them.

The ride was quick, the city lights streaking by as they made their way out of the complex.

Izan leaned back in his seat, watching the familiar streets of North London pass by.

He hadnʼt been in the city for long, but it already felt like home, especially when he was heading back to his apartment.

As the car pulled up to his building, Izan thanked Ødegaard again before getting out.

”I appreciate it, really.”

”Anytime,” Ødegaard replied, giving him a nod before pulling away.

Izan stood for a moment, staring up at the building, thinking about when he could drive before he started walking.

His apartment was a little further from the complex than some of the others, but it had its own quiet charm.

He made his way inside, swiping his keycard to unlock the door.

The familiar click of the lock sounded, and he stepped into the dimly lit hallway of his apartment.

It was silent inside, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

Izan kicked off his shoes, slipping into the living room where he saw Olivia, frozen and curled up on the couch.

Her auburn hair fanned out around her, and she was fast asleep, a soft, peaceful expression on her face.

He couldnʼt help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

She had waited for him, again, no doubt hoping heʼd get in late.

He tiptoed closer, kneeling down beside her. The faint sound of her breathing filled the room, steady and soft.

Carefully, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She shifted in her sleep but didnʼt wake up.

Izan stood there for a moment, just watching her, feeling the weight of the day lift slightly.

He grabbed the blanket from the armchair and draped it over her gently, careful not to disturb her.

His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, brushing lightly against her skin.

He let out a quiet breath, standing up to get a better look at her. She was so peaceful, so at ease, and he couldnʼt help but feel a deep sense of gratitude that she was here with him.

After a few moments, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the counter, letting the quiet wash over him.

Thoughts of the match, of his red card, of the team—everything faded into the background.

He looked back over at her, his heart a little heavier than before.

There was a lot they hadnʼt talked about, things left unsaid between them.

But for now, seeing her like this, asleep and unbothered, was enough.

He returned to the couch and sat down, making sure to stay quiet as he sat beside her.

The sound of her breathing, the soft rustle of the blanket, filled the room, and Izan let himself relax, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

.....

The morning after Arsenalʼs 3-0 victory over Aston Villa, the sports channels were buzzing with commentary.

The pundits on a popular football show were deep into analysis, dissecting the match with energy that only a significant win could bring.

”Arsenalʼs dominant 3-0 win against Villa last night,” Darren Wells, the host, began, his voice carrying the weight of the result.

”A very solid performance from Mikel Artetaʼs side, but thereʼs one major talking point that still has the fans riled up—the second yellow for Izan Hernandez.”

The camera cut to a group of pundits at the table, all shaking their heads in disbelief as the replay of Izanʼs goal celebration flashed on the screen.

His dramatic fall to the ground after scoring the second goal, looking as though heʼd been tackled, followed by the second yellow that resulted in his red card, played in slow motion.

”Now, Iʼve got to say,” Michael Johnson, the former defender, began his tone firm. ”That second yellow for Izan Hernandez was just uncalled for and some what unnecessary.”

”Celebrations are part of the game—passion, you know?” Johnson continued.

”He wasnʼt hurting anyone. Yeah, it was dramatic, maybe a little unnecessary, but not a red card offense. The referee has to show a bit more understanding here.”

Carla Williams, the ex-midfielder, nodded in agreement.

”You canʼt just punish a young player for being excited about a goal, especially in a game where Arsenal were just a goal up at that point.

The whole thing could have been avoided if the referee had some common sense. The card is one thing, but sending him off? Thatʼs just taking it too far.”

The replay continued, showing Izan walking off the pitch, his face a mixture of confusion and frustration.

Darren chimed in, ”Look, I get that some players take celebrations too far, but this one wasnʼt over the top.

Weʼve seen much worse in the league. The bigger issue here is the inconsistency in officiating. Weʼve had incidents where players celebrate wildly and nothing happens. Itʼs baffling.”

”Right,” Johnson agreed. ”And we all know this is a young player learning his way in the league.

A decision like this could have a huge impact on his confidence, but letʼs not lose sight of the fact that Arsenal played brilliantly as a team last night.

It wasnʼt just about Izanʼs moment of brilliance, but the team as a whole.”

Darren nodded, ”And letʼs not forget—3-0. Arsenal were comfortable in this match, clinical in front of goal, and really, the scoreline tells you everything you need to know about their performance.

Saka was superb, and Jorginho looked like heʼd really found his stride in midfield.”

The conversation shifted to other aspects of the game, but Darrenʼs words still hung in the air.

”Yes, Arsenal were fantastic. But that moment with Izan Hernandez—thatʼs what everyoneʼs talking about today.”

⸻

Meanwhile, in Izanʼs apartment, he and Olivia sat on the couch, casually watching the pundits discuss the match while eating breakfast.

The quiet hum of the TV mixed with the crunch of cereal and the clink of Oliviaʼs toast dunked in orange juice.

Izan sat back with a bowl of cereal, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at Olivia, who was watching the screen intently but with a relaxed smile on her face.

”You know, I was expecting worse from them,” Izan said, his tone light but still carrying a hint of frustration. ”They really didnʼt go at me for the celebration.”

Olivia smirked, shaking her head.

”I was waiting for them to make it the entire focus of the show. But, I guess the 3-0 scoreline kind of helped overshadow the celebration drama.”

Izan nodded, feeling a slight sense of relief.

”Yeah, I mean, the win was important. But I still canʼt believe I got sent off for something so dumb.”

She chuckled softly, picking up her toast. ”Well, you did flop like youʼd been shot. Canʼt blame the ref for giving you a yellow.”

”Yeah, yeah,” Izan muttered with a grin. ”But come on. What was that first one for? It was nothing.”

Olivia took a bite of her toast, her eyes twinkling. ”Maybe itʼs a lesson—next time, just point to the sky like everyone else.”

Izan let out a soft laugh, leaning back on the couch. ”Iʼll make sure to keep it simple next time.”

The TV continued to play in the background as the pundits moved on to other topics, with Izan and Olivia seemingly content in the quiet space between them.

A/n: Okay. Here it is. The revered Golden Ticket chapter. Have fun reading and also keep spamming the Golden tickets so that I can keep feeding yʼall with plenty of bonus chapters. Anyway, Good dawn and have a nice read.