Chapter 104
Chapter 104
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: Must Grow (4)
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Emirates Stadium in the London Borough of Islington, with a capacity of around 60,000.
In the old days, the Gunners would have been chanting for victory even before kickoff.
But not anymore.
Repeated defeats had left sections of the stands completely empty.
"Forty-seven thousand."
Still, Mikel Arteta let out a short sigh of admiration as he stepped into the technical area.
They hadn't sold out recently.
Yet, with the FA Cup fourth round approaching, a decent crowd had turned up.
Instead of calling for victory, though, they vented their rage.
"Smash Bolton to pieces!"
"Mikaaaal! You know it too! Lose this one, and you're out!"
"You fucking bastard shit!"
Among the fans close to the fencing, some hurled abuse at him, others at Bolton.
But the vast majority spewed vitriol at Bolton's manager, Ma.
A quick glance.
Mikel Arteta turned his head.
Bolton's manager Ma had just shared a brief handshake before taking his place in the technical area.
Dressed in a suit, he plunked a folding chair right in the middle and sat down.
One ankle crossed over a knee, arms folded.
'Guess that's his doing.'
Just one mention had the Gunners this fired up.
"As cocky as they say."
Assistant coach Steve Round furrowed his brow slightly, voicing his displeasure.
But Mikel Arteta felt unease froMad Dogifferent angle.
'Starting Adebayor, of all things.'
It was completely unexpected.
The commentators, eyeing the players lined up in the center circle, read out the lineups.
[First, Arsenal's lineup!]
After much deliberation, Mikel Arteta had gone with a mix of starters and bench players.
[Arsenal in a 4-4-2! Up top, Eddie Nketiah and Folarin Balogun.
Midfield: Charlie Patino, Van Cortrell, Miguel Azis, Bukayo Saka!
Back four: Nuno Tavares, Rob Holding, Takehiro Tomiyasu, Ryan Alebiose.
Gloves on goal for Karl Hein!]
It was close to a 1.5 squad.
Eddie Nketiah, Nuno Tavares, Rob Holding, and Bukayo Saka were all key contributors.
Takehiro Tomiyasu had been a solid rotation player since his summer signing.
The rest saw occasional cup minutes, so the commentators added confidently.
[Arsenal's putting real weight behind this one!]
[Sure, Bolton's the underdog... but they're no pushovers in the FA Cup!]
Bolton's thrashing of Sunderland meant they weren't just any underdog in the FA Cup anymore.
The commentators then turned to Bolton's lineup.
[Against Arsenal, Bolton's in a 4-3-3!]
Up front, speedy prodigy Pax and Sensuous Ruff took the wing-forward spots.
In the middle, Emmanuel Adebayor.
Central midfield: Frank Gerrard, Owen Precise, David Dignity.
Back four: Morten Pedersen, Dominic Shield, Dennis Slip, Delicate.
[Gloves for Screech in goal!]
The surprise was, predictably, Emmanuel Adebayor starting center forward.
The FA Cup fourth round was even broadcast on Korean TV.
Korean fans watching via YouTube live streams couldn't hide their shock at Adebayor's inclusion.
And their hopes.
- <LifeIsAFootball> : Godbayor! Show us the reverse run!
<NoGirlfriend> : That reverse run is the celebration of the century that'll never be forgotten!
- <DetectiveKang> : Wait, is this real? Starting Adebayor against Arsenal? LOL
- <IAmGodbayor> : Gunners getting PTSD just from seeing his face LOL
- <LeftyNumb> : Second PTSD of the day!
Twelve years since that infamous reverse run revival.
Of course, some fans voiced concerns.
He'd scored twice in limited minutes against Sunderland, but the fans had seen it clearly.
Adebayor's work rate dropped noticeably minute by minute.
By the end of the second half, he'd just been loitering up front.
* * *
"Looks like it was foreshadowing."
Assistant coach Steve Round muttered briefly.
"He mentioned that year in his tweet, after all."
"Yeah."
Mikel Arteta nodded shortly.
Bolton's manager Ma had planned to start Adebayor from the beginning.
But Steve Round let out a short scoff.
"Can he even sustain a proper attacking process?"
Adebayor had turned 38 past January.
Even by age alone, his mobility had to be shot.
"He got two against Sunderland, but... that was basically team service."
Adebayor had barely played ten minutes, just hanging around the penalty area.
In other words, his stamina and work rate weren't up to snuff.
And Round was certain.
"If he puts in the same effort as against Sunderland... he won't get a single clear shooting chance."
No matter Arsenal's slump, objectively, they were at least twice as strong as Sunderland.
On top of that, Round's pride was bruised.
"To look down on Arsenal like this...!"
Arteta felt the same.
'Coach Hosap told me not to underestimate Bolton...'
But it looked like Bolton was underestimating Arsenal.
* * *
Fifth minute of the first half.
"Ha, seriously."
Arsenal defender Rob Holding couldn't help but let out a baffled laugh.
"There's a Togolese restaurant a bit outside London Islington—still there?"
"How the hell would I know?"
"Figures. You're a moron."
"What'd you say?"
Holding scowled fiercely at his taunting opponent.
Emmanuel Adebayor.
The match had long since kicked off.
Even now, a tussle was underway on the left flank.
Thwack, thud-!
Thud!
[Oh! Arsenal right-back Ryan Alebiose relentlessly shoulder-charging prodigy Pax as he sprints forward...!]
Crash-!
[He finally shoves him out over the touchline!]
[Pax loses balance and goes down...!]
[The ref plays on!]
Thwang-!
[Alebiose's cross from the other side-!]
The ball struck Alebiose's instep and soared high across the pitch.
It dropped to Arsenal left-back Nuno Tavares, who controlled it cleanly.
All the while, Adebayor just spectated, facing away toward Arsenal's goal.
He even had the gall to ask back.
"What about Poppies Fish & Chips? Their seafood was killer. Been around since 1952, I think."
"The oldest pub in Covent Garden—still there?"
"Why not focus on the game?"
Fed up, Rob Holding nudged his shoulder and shifted left, growling.
"What? Too gassed to run properly? Wait, did you even run?"
Holding wasn't intimidated by the likes of Adebayor.
He'd faced plenty of stars since transferring to Arsenal from Bolton.
Adebayor, on the other hand...
'This guy's a striker?'
Just look at his waddling, half-hearted jogs.
'He's just here poaching goals!'
He rarely strayed from the penalty box.
As a defender, Holding wondered if he even needed to mark this guy.
It pissed him off, too.
"Planned to just clean up scraps, huh?"
The Sunderland game hadn't been much different.
Adebayor had jogged short distances near the box, and the ball had just landed at his feet or head.
But even Holding's jabs left Adebayor unfazed.
He furrowed his brow slightly and shot back.
"Moron. Get out more, have some fun. No life at all, tsk! You the shut-in otaku our boss was talking about or what?"
Fifteen minutes of the first half flew by.
Bolton and Arsenal's attacks mostly came down the flanks.
The commentators shouted.
[Nuno Tavares!]
Signed from Sporting Lisbon, Tavares was a left-back with exceptional forward thrust.
And top physicality to boot.
Thud-!
"Urk!"
Even as Sensuous Ruff dropped to the halfway line for a shoulder barge, he bounced off.
"You prick...!"
Of course, Sensuous Ruff accelerated again despite losing balance, trying to shut down Tavares' flank.
Just then, right-back Delicate joined the defensive effort, blocking Tavares head-on.
Thump, thwack-!
"Huh!"
Delicate's eyes flicked to the ground for a split second.
His planted feet faltered.
The instant he closed the gap, Tavares phantom-dribbled then nutmegged the ball right through his legs.
Swoosh-!
In less than 0.1 seconds, he brushed past Delicate's left shoulder.
[Ooooh! Nuno Tavares-!]
The commentators bellowed, veins bulging.
[No one on Bolton can match Tavares' individual skill!]
Tavares' kicking was elite, too.
And so,
Thwang-!
Blasting past both defenders, he underlapped in a flash, reached the penalty area's edge, and unleashed a curling right-footed shot.
Ting-!
[Aaah! Tavares' strike clips the far post and goes out just wide!]
Clap clap clap clap-!
No goal, but the Gunners applauded.
The commentators heaped praise.
[Tavares has to be Arsenal's standout signing from the last few years!]
They grew bolder as time passed.
Their flank attacks were landing well.
Tavares' overlaps pierced Bolton's right side eight times out of ten.
Conversely, the commentators showed disappointment toward one player.
[Ah, Emmanuel Adebayor...!]
[After fifteen first-half minutes, just one touch to show for it...!]
"A clear misjudgment."
Now a faint smile played on assistant coach Steve Round's lips.
Some press had warned Arsenal might struggle.
It stung Round, but he couldn't deny it outright.
Arsenal was in a deep, deep slump.
But against Bolton, they were playing like a proper EPL side.
[Nuno Tavares! Overlapping deep again~!]
Tap-!
[Oh! Drags back to evade Delicate's front tackle..!]
Thwang-!
[Sneaky cut-back cross!]
[Eddie Nketiah! Bursts between center-backs, stretches a foot...!]
Tap-!
[Aaah! But Bolton keeper Screech dives in first to claim it!]
[That was close!]
Crisp, flowing attacks like this.
And the Adebayor Steve Round saw was utterly useless.
"Never seen a deadwood like this deadwood."
Round clicked his tongue.
In his eyes, Adebayor had moved less than the goalkeeper in fifteen minutes.
Mikel Arteta's expression relaxed considerably.
Arsenal dominated possession, passes, shots—tempo across the board.
Bolton had mustered just one shot.
Prodigy Pax's run-and-gun, well wide of goal.
No real threats otherwise.
'Just score one.'
In this situation, one goal would crush Bolton completely. That certainty bloomed.
* * *
Splash-!
Right on cue, the net rippled at the twentieth first-half minute.
But Mikel Arteta couldn't celebrate.
His face twisted so hard it looked ready to crack.
[Goooaaaooooaaaooooaaaooal! Emmanuel Adebayooooor-!]
[Owen threads a forward pass, and he finishes first-time!]
[Into the far post corner—Karl Hein in goal could only watch!]
The problem came right after.
Arteta clenched his fists bone-white.
[Aaah! Adebayor scores and sticks out his tongue, suddenly sprinting! Oh, he's going the other way...!]
[More distance covered in this celebration than in twenty minutes of play—as he full-sprints toward the Gunners!]
[No way! No waaay-!]