God Of football

Chapter 883: Is This Love?

The handlers, together with the players, had already lined up the dogs in a loose semi-circle.

A whistle hung from one of the handlers’ necks, and beside her, five players crouched in position like kids before a school race.

The first batch went off at the sharp tweet of the whistle and immediately, five dogs bolted down the grass, leaping over tiny hurdles, weaving between cones.

The crowd cheered when Saka’s golden retriever missed a turn, looped back, then finished the course anyway, tail wagging proudly.

The Arsenal players clapped and hollered, teasing each other like they were in training again.

Izan stood a few steps behind, his Samoyed sitting beside him with the kind of calm that felt deceptive, like it was acting for the lights.

Miko’s tongue lolled out, its white fur practically glowing under the morning sun.

Izan glanced down at it, tugged lightly on the leash, then back toward the handler waiting to signal the next round.

When the whistle blew again, he expected a slow start, something shy, something manageable.

Instead, Miko burst forward like a puff of lightning, dragging Izan’s arm with surprising strength.

The crowd gasped, then laughed as the dog cleared the hurdles one after another, its fur bouncing with each bound.

Izan could only stand there, the leash slipping through his fingers slightly as his eyes widened a bit.

By the time the Samoyed returned, it skidded to a stop right in front of him, panting, tail wagging like it knew it had done something brilliant.

The second dog, a sleek border collie led by Nwaneri, followed close behind.

Izan stared at Miko, a hint of disbelief flickering on his face before it softened into something almost warm.

He crouched slightly, hesitated, then patted the top of the dog’s head once.

”Good job,” he said quietly, like it was something new in his mouth.

Miko leaned into the touch, satisfied.

From the sideline, Arteta watched with his arms folded, smiling faintly as he caught the small shift in Izan’s posture.

”Why should one be afraid of a dog?” he muttered, shaking his head.

The rest of the afternoon rolled forward like a slow, sunny rhythm as the next arrangements came on.

The Training with Tails challenge turned the small pitch into a comedy show.

Players tried to dribble through cones while dogs chased after the ball like it was their personal mission.

In one instance, Saka’s retriever cut him off twice, earning a roar of laughter from everyone watching.

Nwaneri kept trying to outsmart his collie, only for it to predict every feint and push the ball away.

Cameras caught it all—each blooper, each burst of joy—ready for Arsenal’s socials to paint the day as what it was: lighthearted, human, a bit animalistic and fun.

Izan mostly stayed quiet, guiding Miko with gentle movements.

The Samoyed didn’t run wild like the others.

It trotted beside him, playful but strangely aware of his hesitations.

A few of the handlers exchanged smiles while somewhere behind the camera, a crew member whispered, ”That one’s going viral.”

Next came the Photo Adoption Booth, where the players took turns posing with the animals for the campaign photos, cats curled on laps, dogs perched beside them.

Saka got a puppy lick to the face mid-photo while Nwaneri tried to hold a squirming kitten, earning a hiss and laughter from everyone around.

When it was Izan’s turn, Miko sat perfectly still beside him, as if it knew this part was important.

The photographer grinned.

”Hold still, mate. Yeah, just like that. He loves you already.”

Izan looked sideways at the dog, then back at the lens, giving the faintest, genuine smile.

And then at the Purina Pledge Wall, players and fans wrote little notes about their pets, sticking colourful cards across a massive board.

”For Max, who never missed a matchday nap,” one read.

Another said, ”Because love has four paws.”

Izan hesitated at first, not really knowing what to write, but then picked up a marker.

His handwriting came out smaller than the rest: Still learning not to be scared of you.

He pinned it quietly near the corner, away from the brighter, louder ones.

When the handlers called for the Players & Paws Challenge, the mood lifted again.

A five-a-side charity match, with every player having their ”teammate” seated beside them.

Each goal meant a Purina donation, and by the third minute, the sideline was a chaos of cheers, barking, and friendly shouting.

Halfway through, Saka yelled across the pitch, laughing, ”I think mine’s cheering for the other team!” when his golden retriever sprinted over to Izan’s side, tail wagging as Miko joined in on the excitement.

Izan chuckled, shaking his head.

”You’re attracting fans now,” he said, rubbing Miko’s fur as both dogs wagged at each other.

For the first time, he didn’t pull his hand away too quickly.

By the end of the game, everyone looked like they’d been training again, sweaty, smiling, tired in the best way.

The air smelled faintly of grass and pet shampoo, as well as pet food, and the laughter that hadn’t stopped since morning.

When the time came for the closing moment, Arteta and Izan stepped forward together.

A large symbolic cheque stood between them, £250,000 to local shelters.

The Purina representatives applauded as the cameras flashed.

Arteta gave his small, steady speech, thanking everyone for their effort.

Then he passed the mic subtly toward Izan.

Izan cleared his throat once, eyes catching on Miko sitting just below the stage, fiddling with a small ball.

”Uh,” he started, ”this was... new for me.”

The crowd chuckled softly.

”But I get it now. They don’t ask for much, do they? Just for you to show up.”

A simple line, but it landed.

The applause came warm and genuine while Arteta gave his shoulder a light tap as the two of them lifted the cheque together for the cameras.

Behind them, Miko barked once and then howled, drawing a wave of howls from the other dogs as if they were trying to thank the humans there.

As the afternoon came, the event began winding down, the bright energy thinning.

Most of the players were already shaking hands with the Purina reps, some laughing as they wiped dog hair off their shirts.

The handlers were moving around, calling the dogs back to their kennels or vans, but one of them was clearly having trouble.

Miko wasn’t moving.

The Samoyed’s leash was stretched tight, its white paws planted firmly in the grass.

The handler tugged gently, calling its name, but the dog just whined and kept its eyes locked on Izan, who was standing a few meters away.

A few of the players noticed and began to laugh.

”Oi, I think he’s picked his new owner,” Rice said, grinning.

Saka leaned over, cupping his hands around his mouth.

”Izan, mate, looks like you might have to take him with you!”

The others burst out laughing, a few phones coming up to record the scene.

Izan turned slightly, the faintest of smiles breaking through his otherwise quiet expression.

He looked at Miko, who gave a small bark, tail swishing like it was sure it had made its case.

”Yeah, right,” Izan muttered.

He stood there a moment longer, watching as the handler tried once more to pull Miko along.

The dog dug in again, refusing, then suddenly barked twice in Izan’s direction before whining in that drawn-out, heartbreak kind of way that made a few of the players go ”aww” in unison.

The handler eventually scooped the Samoyed into her arms, murmuring something to calm it.

The furball kept twisting its head around, still trying to keep Izan in sight as it was carried toward the van.

Then the barking started again, fainter this time, echoing off the edge of the lot as Izan finally turned and walked to his car.

Inside the van, the energy dropped to a slow hum.

A few players were half-dozing against the windows, others scrolling through their phones, already finding clips of the event being posted online with captions like Arsenal’s new signing: Miko the Samoyed.

Saka sat near the back, still chuckling softly to himself.

”Man,” he said, nudging Nwaneri beside him, ”tell me that wasn’t the cutest thing ever. The way that dog looked at Izan, bro, it’s over. They’re bonded for life. You might have to go back for it.”

Nwaneri just laughed, shaking his head.

”He’s done for. He just got adopted by a dog.”

Even Izan cracked a small grin at that, though he didn’t say anything.

He just turned his gaze toward the window, watching the scenery slip by, green fading into grey buildings as the van almost lulled him into a light daze, but every now and then his mind flicked back to that white ball of fur and its stubborn stare.

By the time they pulled up at the hotel, most of the players were yawning, stretching with the adrenaline fully gone.

The lobby buzzed with soft chatter and the faint sound of an espresso machine.

Saka was still smiling when he turned to Izan.

”Yo, you sure you don’t wanna check on your dog before you sleep?”

Izan gave him a slow look, then shook his head.

”I’m gonna rest,” he said simply.

Saka snorted.

”Yeah, yeah, sure. Tell that to Miko when he shows up at your door.”

A few of the boys laughed again, their voices echoing faintly as Izan made his way toward the elevators, giving a small wave over his shoulder without looking back.

When the doors slid shut, the noise outside dimmed to silence.

He leaned against the elevator wall, eyes half-closed, the ghost of a tired smile still on his face.

For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that brief image of Miko’s bright eyes lingered in his mind, clearer than most things from the day.

And for the first time, the thought of seeing a dog didn’t feel all that bad.