The Return of the King
Making my debut off the bench in the opening match, setting the records for Arsenal's youngest debutant and the Premier League's youngest goalscorer, starting in the UEFA Super Cup to score the opening goal and win Man of the Match, and even my first interview.
In just a single week, my life had dramatically changed... or not.
My name popped up on the internet a few times, and some Arsenal legends I didn't even know, along with TV pundits, mentioned my name or my performance once or twice. That was about it.
"Oh! Luka! Are you Luka?"
Still, at least now there were a few people who recognized me when I walked down the street.
"Yes, that's right."
"I really enjoyed the match! I'll be rooting for you!"
"Thank you. Would you like an autograph...?"
"...I'll be rooting for you!"
Tsk. Failed to get an autograph this time, huh? The ratio of autographs was roughly seven to three. Of course, the three represented those who actually wanted one. And even then, most of them were middle-aged men with scruffy beards and thinning hair.
Even if Europe is known for respecting people's privacy, it wasn't this bad in my past life... What's going on? Aren't I pretty good-looking? I look way better than I did in my previous life. Is it different from a Western perspective? No, I'm definitely handsome... Ah, whatever. Who cares about girls anyway?
I was planning to focus entirely on football in this life, so I didn't have much interest in girls. Still, I needed to surpass the peak of my past life so I wouldn't feel embarrassed before the connections I left behind.
For the record, my peak in my past life was finishing second in the Ballon d'Or during the 29-30 season, where I scored 52 league goals to win the title, reached the Champions League semifinals, and netted 71 goals overall. If it hadn't been a World Cup year, the Ballon d'Or would have been mine. But Yamal, the superstar who led Spain to victory in the 2030 World Cup, snatched it away, which caused quite a controversy.
Some even brought up racism because of it. Back then, even by my own standards, I was a highly successful footballer.
And even though this world was filled with legendary players, I was confident I could reach that level within two or three years.
Girls? I could meet girls then. No, until I surpassed my prime and overtook him, I didn't need women.
The most important thing to me was football.
But even so, I never imagined the gender ratio of my fans would be this skewed.
Is this the power of self-promotion?
In my past life, I used to flaunt my star power on social media. Now, although I had accounts, I was banned from posting stories or even liking posts after that incident. It was a shame I couldn't promote myself.
But since I was the one who messed up, I couldn't complain.
My father said he would lift the ban once I became an adult, so I just had to wait until then.
Honestly, this was bad even for a footballer's career. No matter how important skill was, the journalists voting for the Ballon d'Or were only human. Even in the Ballon d'Or, which was supposed to be the most objective award in football, popularity contests happened all the time.
You think not? If that weren't the case, it wouldn't make sense for Ronaldo to steal the Ballon d'Or from him...
Well, thinking about it, prime Ronaldo did deserve a few, didn't he?
...was what I used to think. But now, having witnessed prime Ronaldo's performance firsthand in a friendly, it didn't seem so strange for him to win a few depending on his team's trophies.
But the point wasn't Ronaldo's skill. The point was that popularity did influence the Ballon d'Or to some extent. And star quality was a crucial factor in popularity contests.
In my era, there wasn't a single player among my peers or juniors who didn't promote themselves on social media.
Well, nothing I can do about it. The situation is what it is.
Self-promotion was that important, but since things had turned out this way, I had to change my approach.
Unlike my old body, which couldn't handle my speed and technique, my current body was in peak condition. I was confident I could make a name for myself globally even without self-promotion.
He didn't become the greatest player in history just because of his star power—though I hated to admit it, even I had to acknowledge that Ronaldo's star power was among the highest in history. Since he succeeded through sheer ability, I would quietly follow in his footsteps.
Girls? Popularity? I don't need any of it. My path is football and football alone!
"Oh! Luka! It's Luka! Luka, can I get an autograph, please?"
"Oh! You know me?"
"Of course! I'm an Arsenal fan. I even bought your shirt this time!"
"Haha, wow. Ah, would you like to take a photo together too?"
"Really? I'd love that!"
I quickly pulled out a marker and signed my name with utmost sincerity for my very first female fan who had bought my shirt. I even took a photo with her as she beamed with joy.
"I'll be rooting for you!"
"Yes! Please look forward to it!"
As I got closer to the training ground, I could definitely spot people holding my shirt.
Leaving my young fan behind, I headed into the training ground.
It took about an hour to walk from my house to the training ground, but since I was juggling the ball the whole way, it took a bit longer. Still, since it was summer break and I had plenty of free time, I was glad I could squeeze in this extra training.
Ah... I don't want to go to school. Tsk, but since it's a rule, I have no choice.
The thought of school starting in about two weeks gave me a headache, but at least I could skip school when we went on away trips like today.
"Luka, you're here?"
As I entered the training ground, Saka greeted me with a bright face. It made sense, as his start in the next match was practically guaranteed.
There were only two days of rest between the UEFA Super Cup and our second Premier League match. Having played the Super Cup on the 14th and with the next match scheduled for the 17th, Manager Wenger announced as soon as we returned to England that he would rest the starters.
It was a bold move made possible only because our opponent was Huddersfield, a relatively weak team.
And Saka was a versatile talent who could play both left-back and left winger.
"Congratulations. I'm happy for you."
"Hehe, watch your back. I'm catching up to you soon."
"..."
Ignoring Saka's nonsense, I headed toward where the players were gathering.
"Luka! Luka! Hey! Are you seriously ignoring me over a joke?! Hey! Hey!"
"Keep it down, kids. The boss is coming soon."
Saka finally shut his mouth after getting scolded by Vieira.
"Luka, why are you so late?"
Ugh, because of Saka.
Because Saka had drawn unnecessary attention, Vieira's eyes locked onto me.
Of course, I had arrived ten minutes before the scheduled time, but Vieira was the ultimate traditionalist. Even though he was nice to me, he was a strict veteran who expected everyone to arrive at least thirty minutes early. I resented Saka for making a scene and drawing Vieira's attention.
"Uh, I was juggling the ball on my way from home."
I hadn't actually arrived late, so I had no reason to shrink back. I told him the truth.
"From home to here? On foot?"
"Yes."
"Where did you say you lived again?"
"Near Napsbury."
"Oh, that must take almost an hour. Have you been coming like that every day?"
"Pretty much, unless something comes up."
"Good lad. The other rookies could learn a thing or two from you."
Vieira patted my head. Fortunately, it was before training, so he didn't smell of sweat yet. I flashed a victorious smile at Saka, who was looking at me with an indignant expression.
As I teased Saka, the rest of the squad gathered, and Wenger arrived.
"Alright, we will do a light set-piece drill before traveling to Huddersfield. Those who played against Munich, take extra care not to get injured. If you feel any discomfort, report it to the coaches or trainers immediately."
Just as Wenger said, today's session was very light. After a quick one-to-two-hour tactical run-through, we boarded the bus to Huddersfield, the home of Huddersfield Town AFC.
"Here is the starting lineup for tomorrow's match. Leno in goal. Chambers at right-back, Campbell and Mustafi at center-back, Kolašinac at left-back. Guendouzi as the defensive midfielder, Xhaka and Torreira in central midfield. Wilshere on the right wing, Saka on the left wing, and Van Persie as the center forward."
The only players remaining from the Munich starting lineup were Leno in goal and Campbell to anchor the defense. It was a lineup designed to give the key starters a complete rest.
Even Wenger, who was notorious for avoiding squad rotation, seemed to judge that the starters hadn't fully recovered after running themselves into the ground against Munich. It felt like they had expended two or three matches' worth of stamina in that single game.
Although I was eager to start, I had no complaints since I didn't want to overwork my young body by playing two matches a week. The bench was filled with the starting defenders along with established key players like Ljungberg, Bergkamp, Walcott, and Theodore Henry, which meant I was left out of the squad entirely.
Tsk, it's a shame I can't even sit on the bench. When did they increase the size of the substitutes' bench again? But wait, if I'm not even in the squad, why did they bring me along? I'd rather be resting at home... Well, I suppose we have a light training session tomorrow anyway.
While it was disappointing to miss out on the bench, it wasn't all bad since it showed me who Wenger considered his absolute starters. Still, it rankled a bit that I couldn't even displace Walcott on the bench. After Walcott went completely invisible against Munich, I had high hopes, but it seemed he was still ahead of me.
And then came the match against Huddersfield.
With almost the entire lineup made up of reserves and playing away at Huddersfield, the match dragged on, dull and uninspiring.
But the atmosphere shifted around the 50th minute.
Frustrated by the sluggish performance, Wenger made a bold move just seven minutes into the second half by subbing on Henry.
—Waaaaaaaah!
—*King Henry! King Henry! King Henry!*
Even though it was an away match, the traveling Arsenal fans chanted Henry's name as if they were playing at home.
It was as if his mere presence on the pitch guaranteed a victory.
And Henry immediately showed exactly why he was called the King of Arsenal.
Not only did he score the opening goal within three minutes of coming on, but he also drifted to the right, dribbling past defenders to win a foul just outside the right side of the penalty box.
That free kick led to the second goal, practically sealing our victory. Even after that, Henry continued to lead Arsenal's attack, helping Wilshere with the playmaking duties in place of the resting Bergkamp.
With a two-goal cushion, rather than forcing his way to score another, he played unselfishly, feeding the ball to Saka and Van Persie. And his playmaking ability was so exceptional it rivaled that of any top-class midfielder.
So this is why they call him King Henry. Okay, I admit it.
His pressing ability as a forward, his shooting, dribbling, speed, and passing...
Honestly, I had felt this since pre-season, but displacing Henry from the center-forward position—which wasn't even my main position—wouldn't be easy for the next few years. Skill aside, there was no reason for the manager to bench a massive name like Henry in favor of me.
In fact, though I hated to admit it, Henry was indeed better than me in certain aspects. Especially when it came to passing.
In that case, I had to target the winger position.
Is the next match a home game against Manchester United?
Our next match was a home game against Manchester United.
Although the fixture between Arsenal and Manchester United didn't have a specific derby name, it was widely considered one of the fiercest rivalries in the Premier League. If I performed well in this match, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I could instantly put myself in the running for the Premier League Young Player of the Year. Naturally, I desperately wanted to play.
With Henry showing peak form upon his return from injury, I would have to work incredibly hard over the next week to catch Wenger's eye and displace the likes of Ljungberg or Walcott.