God Of football

Chapter 997: Verdict?

The next morning, at UEFA headquarters in Nyon, officials briefed the press with the same tight expressions they had worn previously when they addressed the document that they had received.

”The investigations”, they said, were nearly complete.

Documentation had been reviewed.

Statements had been taken, and a verdict would be announced soon.

It was the kind of word that kept timelines vague and tensions high.

Across social media, supporters from half a dozen rival clubs found rare common ground.

Threads swelled with speculation while some fans went further, openly hoping for punishment severe enough to break Arsenal F.C. at their peak.

The tone was less about procedure and more about fatigue.

Arsenal, they argued, had become unbearable.

Too dominant, too loud and too certain of themselves.

Izan’s name appeared everywhere, clipped into edits, dissected frame by frame, praised and condemned in equal measure.

While the noise spiralled outward, inside London Colney it barely registered.

Because of the no-phone policy Arteta had implemented a while ago, the players were able to focus on their training without checking their phones or scrolling social media every 2 to 3 minutes.

And just a day later, it was time to show the results of the work they had been putting in since mid-week!

And the opponent in question was West Ham United!

By late afternoon, the streets around the Emirates Stadium were already buzzing with movement and pre-match charge!

Two clubs in London, set to go at it!

In the away end, a pocket of claret and blue gathered early, and the murmurs and conversations there circled back to the same point.

”They shouldn’t even be playing this,” one supporter muttered, watching stewards file past.

”If you’re under investigation, you sit out. That’s how it should work.”

Another shook his head.

”Only happens if the league backs it, and that’s not happening because we all know how the league is with Ceferin and his antics!”

”This whole thing’s coming from Madrid anyway. They don’t like losing control. That’s what going trophyless for the first time in 16 years does to a man!”

Eventually, their words thinned as movement stirred near the tunnel.

Because the players were now walking out.

The Emirates rose to its feet in sections, sound climbing in layers before settling into a single resounding chant.

It didn’t take too long for the announcer’s voice to bellow out of the speakers in the stadium, drawing out names, stretching syllables and feeding the anticipation.

”Good evening and welcome to North London,” said Steve Bower on the gantry as Saka met Jarrod Bowen and the match officials at the centre for the pre-game pleasantries.

”We are at the Emirates Stadium, a ground that has grown into a fortress in the football world over the past season, courtesy of some splendid and ruthless performances by Arteta’s side as well as some accolades that they have to their name now!”

The frame widened, catching the full bowl of the stadium, the banners rippling, the faces lifted toward the pitch.

”Even with all that talk hanging over their heads, it seems Arteta’s men are fully locked in to get the 3 points at home, and we are here with the broadcast for you live on Sky Sports!”

....

While all that was going on on the pitch, Calafiori stretched his arms wide on the Arsenal bench as Izan approached, presenting the empty seat beside him like it was a museum exhibit.

”This,” he said, drawing out the word with theatrical weight, ”is what they call the beeeench.”

A few of the lads snorted as Izan lowered himself into the seat without protest, adjusting his jacket like he had all the time in the world.

”I could get used to this,” he said, glancing at the pitch. ”Nice view. No running.”

Calafiori turned sharply toward the technical area.

”Gabi!” he called out to Gabriel Heinze.

”Tell the boss to get him on soon. If he gets too comfortable there, we’ll start dropping titles.”

Heinze looked over his shoulder, caught the tone immediately, and laughed before shaking his head.

On the pitch, the referee checked both linesmen, blew on the whistle, and the match began.

From the first exchange, the quality between the two sides was unmistakable.

Arsenal didn’t look like a side distracted by noise beyond the stadium walls.

The ball moved quickly, confidently, pulled from flank to flank with intent, while West Ham tried to settle into their shape, but they were already chasing shadows three minutes in.

”Even without Izan on the pitch,” Steve Bower observed from the gantry, voice measured but alert, ”Arsenal’s structure remains aggressive. The spacing is excellent. They’re forcing West Ham back.”

”We sometimes forget what a bunch of good players these lads are because of Izan!”

By the eleventh minute, the pressure had turned tangible and resulted in a corner for Arsenal.

Saka placed the ball carefully and sent it towards the near post!

It looked bland, but suddenly, Rice rose first, glancing the ball on rather than trying to force it goalward.

The flick redirected the flight just enough, and in the next moment, Timber attacked it.

He leapt, meeting the panels of the ball with his forehead and sending it thudding into the back of the net before West Ham’s goalkeeper could respond.

”One-nil,” Bower called, voice lifting over the swell of the Emirates from the gantry!

”Jurrien Timber with the breakthrough and all of a sudden Arsenal’s pressure has been rewarded.”

Even with the goal, Arsenal squeezed West Ham, relegating the Hammers to many spells of incessant defending!

West Ham, no doubt about it, found moments on the counter, but they were fleeting and without much ”umf”

And then just before the break, Saka received the ball near the corner of the box.

He slowed, inviting the defender closer, then shifted the ball onto his left before bursting quickly towards the byline!

Heads turned toward the six-yard area as Gyökeres adjusted his run instinctively, and in the next second, Saka cut it back low to match the run!

The pass split two defenders and arrived perfectly weighted, and from there, Gyökeres didn’t need power.

He sent a controlled finish from close range, side-footed beyond the keeper to put the Gunners two-nil up!

The Emirates exhaled in approval rather than surprise, while on the touchline, it was the same old story as the Spaniard didn’t really celebrate much!

He just clapped once before proceeding to lie upon his men on the pitch, some instructions as they jogged back to positions, and from there, Arsenal would see the remainder of the half until the match official’s whistle came.