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Chapter 199: Champions League, First Leg 4
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 21:58:21 +0000 UTCSuarez’s goal put Arsenal ahead — an unexpected moment that sent a wave of disbelief and joy through the traveling fans.
Their expectations for this away match weren’t high. After all, Borussia Dortmund’s strength was well known. But here they were — one goal up against one of Europe’s fiercest sides.
It was a shock, but a delightful one that turned inti chants.
Caller: “Who’s gonna score?”
Crowd: “Suárez!”
Caller: “Who’s gonna roar?”
Crowd: “Suárez!”
Together:
“Dortmund’s red,
The goals in the net,
Luis Suárez — he ain’t done yet!”
.
“We will rise again! No... we’ll surpass everything we’ve ever been!”
Billy’s voice trembled with excitement. He could feel it — this Arsenal side might one day outshine every generation before them.
This wasn’t the Arsenal of old.
They were united.
They fought as one.
They didn’t back down, not even against the toughest of opponents.
Their strength wasn’t just in skill or tactics — it was in that unshakable belief that they could and would win.
In the past, Arsenal had often seemed lifeless — never quite brilliant, never truly poor, just... drifting.
But since the start of the 2012–13 season, something had changed..
Now, under their 20-year-old captain, Arsenal finally had both talent and leadership.
..
On the touchline, Wenger punched the air, his eyes alight.
It worked!
Before the match, he’d spotted Hummels’ habit of pressing too high and had built a tactical trap around it. The rest, however, was up to the players — how they’d execute, when they’d trigger it. It was theoretical, risky, and uncertain.
And yet, they’d pulled it off to perfection.
This goal gave Arsenal a cushion — a moment of calm in the storm. Now they could play with composure.
Across the pitch, Klopp frowned. He knew Hummels’ aggressive pressing could be double-edged, but he hadn’t thought Arsenal would turn it into a weapon against him.
Yes, that goal wasn’t luck — it was deliberate.
You could see it from Suarez’s first touch, his turn, his burst forward.
It was all to lure Hummels into stepping up on Cazorla, leaving a hole behind him. Arsenal had drawn him out and struck.
One perfect sequence — and a goal.
..
Cazorla laughed as he wrapped Suarez in a hug.
“Perfect setup, hermano,” he said.
Every part of it had clicked — the bait, the movement, the timing. If even one touch had been off, they’d never have scored.
It was the kind of play that showed how far Arsenal had come — disciplined, sharp, confident.
As they jogged back to their half, the Borussia Dortmund players’ faces were grim.
“We need to score,” Lewandowski muttered to Reus.
Reus gave a helpless smile. “Easier said than done. You can’t get past Kai in that zone.”
Lewandowski frowned. “Then what if we win the ball off Kai?”
Reus shook his head. “I’ve tried. He barely holds it. One touch, and it’s gone. And when he does keep it, his control’s not perfect, but his body... it’s like a wall. You need at least two men to get it off him.”
Lewandowski nodded slowly. “Then we go together. Press him hard. Maybe we’ll force a mistake.”
Reus hesitated, then sighed. “Alright. Let’s give it a try.”
At that point, Borussia Dortmund didn’t have many better options left.
To break through Arsenal’s defense, they had to either bypass Kai — or somehow steal the ball from him and launch a counterattack.
But after ten long minutes of patience, they realized something odd: Kai hadn’t even touched the ball for more than a second.
He was constantly moving — into position, passing it off, moving again, then passing once more.
For ten minutes straight, Reus and Lewandowski chased him around like shadows, panting by the end of it.
Only then did they truly understand how relentless Kai’s work rate was.
He was always running — sometimes sprinting, sometimes jogging — but never still.
Kai, of course, had noticed.
After all, even with poor eyesight, it was hard to miss two forwards tailing you for ten minutes straight.
He didn’t know exactly what they were up to, so he simply played even more cautiously.
High-tempo, one-touch football — the kind that made it impossible for them to do anything about it.
They couldn’t exactly tackle him without the ball, could they?
After that opening goal, Arsenal deliberately slowed the pace down.
Unlike the anxious Dortmund players, Arsenal began to play with clear intent and structure.
Now that they had the lead, they could dictate the rhythm. They used short passes to control space, frustrate Dortmund’s press, and quietly tick away the clock.
By the time the whistle blew for half-time, Dortmund had managed just one half-chance — nothing that troubled Szczęsny.
As they walked off, Reus glanced across at Kai with a frustrated frown.
How can someone play football with so little greed?
No flair moves, no attempts to dribble past anyone. Just... pass, move, pass again.
To Reus, it was baffling.
Even Cazorla, walking beside Kai, couldn’t help but ask with a grin, “Haven’t you ever thought about taking someone on? Just dribble past them once in a while?”
Kai shot him a look and replied dryly, “If my technique allowed, I’d be Sterling 2.0 by now, you believe that?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to dribble — it was that he couldn’t guarantee he’d keep the ball.
If he had Messi’s control, sure, he’d turn defenders inside out all day. But that wasn’t his game — and he knew it.
...
In the dressing room, Wenger was beaming.
He clapped his hands once, drawing the players’ attention.
“Gentlemen, that was an excellent first half,” he said, smiling. “A well-executed plan, and a goal that came exactly as we designed.”
He nodded toward Suarez. “Luis, superb finish — that was world-class.”
He didn’t mention Kai’s defensive work; by now, it was almost expected.
“Alright,” Wenger continued, tone sharpening slightly. “The second half won’t be easy. Klopp will push harder. He won’t let us hold this lead comfortably. Expect a heavier press and more bodies in midfield.”
He pointed to the tactics board. “They’ll overload the middle, so we must keep our shape. You don’t have to dominate possession — just keep them contained. Control the rhythm. That’s one of our strengths.”
The players nodded; they knew the drill.
Arsenal’s midfield chokehold had become something of an art form — the way they pressed in pairs, shifted laterally, and cut off passing lanes.
“Once we stabilize the middle,” Wenger said, turning to Walcott, “look for Theo often. He’ll be our outlet.”
A few chuckles rippled through the room.
Walcott hadn’t had much to do in the first half. With Arsenal’s structure so compact, he’d spent most of it waiting on the wings, occasionally tracking back.
Now, Wenger was calling on him to make it count.
Walcott grinned. “Don’t worry, Prof — I’ll run them ragged.”
He’d been in good form this season, and his connection with Kai had sharpened his timing and movement.
All he needed was the right ball.
...
In the Dortmund locker room, Klopp’s tone was more clipped.
“The problem’s in midfield,” he said firmly. “That’s why we conceded. Stop trying to dribble through Kai — it’s a waste of time.”
He jabbed a finger at the tactical board. “Your movement’s too rigid! Someone always needs to be available for a short pass — don’t isolate the ball carrier!”
Reus spoke up, half in frustration. “But Arsenal have more men in midfield than us.”
Klopp paused, then nodded. “Then we’ll match them. Second half, I want you, Lewandowski, dropping deeper, and both holding midfielders pushing up to help. We must regain control of the middle, or we’ll never equalize.”
He looked around the room, his voice rising.
“Look, winning at the Emirates won’t be easy — we all know that. So make the most of this! We’re at home. Take the initiative. Make them suffer here!”
