When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 152 Two-nil down for the Arsenal!

On April 20, 2004, the Stade Louis II was brightly lit.

With an hour to go before the Champions League semi-final kickoff, fans from both sides have already begun to vie for attention in the stands.

Arsenal fans chanted "One-Nil to the Arsenal," while Monaco fans responded with a resounding "Allez Monaco."

This is one of Arsenal fans' most famous cheers, which literally translates to "Arsenal 1-0". If Arsenal scores a second goal, the fans will spontaneously change it to "Two-nil to the Arsenal".

This is related to the tactical style developed by Arsenal's legendary manager Herbert Chapman in the 1920s and 30s.

At that time, Arsenal often won with a solid defense and efficient counter-attacks, and 1-0 became a landmark score.

Opposing fans sometimes taunt, "Boring, boring Arsenal!"
Inside the VIP box, Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich kept tapping his fingers on the armrest of his seat.

He was seated next to CEO Kenyon and prominent Israeli agent Zahavi.

All three men kept their eyes fixed on Monaco striker Roy, who was warming up on the sidelines.

“Things have changed,” Zahavi said, frowning. “Migliaccio has been suddenly fired. Roy’s agency is now entirely in the hands of Mendes.”

Abramovich immediately sat up straight: "Mendes? That Portuguese guy? Isn't he very close to Real Madrid?"

Abu's face turned very ugly.

He took out his phone and quickly scrolled through his contact list.

“Real Madrid has already made a move,” he said in a low voice. “Roy is their youth product, which is troublesome.”

On the sidelines, Roy was chatting and laughing with his teammate Giuly.

The Monaco attacking linchpin seemed to be in a good mood, completely oblivious to the intense gazes directed at him from the VIP box.

Zahavi leaned close to Abramovich's ear: "Our original negotiation plan has been disrupted. Mendes is a difficult opponent, and..."

His words were interrupted by a sudden burst of cheers from the fans.

Abramovich waved his hand impatiently: "Keep watching. No matter how much it costs, we have to get ahead of Real Madrid."

Arsenal players began to enter the field to warm up, with Henry leading the way.

Bergkamp patted him on the shoulder from behind and pointed in the direction of the Monaco goal; the two exchanged a brief glance.

Lehmann walked straight to the goal area and began to vigorously pound the goalposts to test his touch.

Each strike produced a dull "thump, thump" sound.

The four defenders spread out near the sideline.

Ashley Cole and Toure are practicing short passing combinations, while Campbell and Lauren are stretching their leg muscles.

Cole would occasionally glance up at the opposite half of the field, where Monaco's Giuly was practicing his sprints.

Henry and Bergkamp eventually arrived near the center circle.

Henry began practicing his signature quick change of direction, while Bergkamp quietly juggled the ball, occasionally unleashing a delicate chip shot.

Wenger stood on the sidelines with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning back and forth among the players.

Arsenal's Congolese striker Nonda is practicing short passing combinations with Parlour and Pires, with the ball being passed quickly between their feet.

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of several familiar figures approaching out of the corner of his eye—it was Roy, Giuly, and Pulso from Monaco.

Nonda paused noticeably; the ball rolled to his feet but he didn't pass it immediately.

Parlor glanced at him in confusion, then followed his gaze and immediately understood what he meant, gently patting him on the back.

Roy stepped forward with a gentle smile: "Welcome home, Nonda."

Nonda was silent for a few seconds, his lips twitching slightly before he finally gave a friendly smile: "Thank you. But I won't hold back."

Roy raised an eyebrow, his smile deepening: "You don't actually think I'd go easy on you, do you?"

The two looked at each other for a moment, then Nonda looked away and lowered his head to rub the grass with the tip of his shoe.

Pulso stepped forward, smiling as he patted Nonda on the shoulder: "Long time no see, brother. How's it going in London?"

Nonda's expression relaxed slightly: "It's not bad, it's just that the weather is much worse than in Monaco."

The three of them laughed briefly, as if they had returned to the days when they fought side by side.

But soon, Giuly's smile faded, and he gestured towards the sidelines with his chin: "The coach is glaring at us."

"Alright, that's enough catching up. Let's see who comes out on the field later."

Roy nodded to Nonda one last time, then turned and walked with his teammates to the other half of the field.

Nonda took a deep breath and passed the ball back to Parlour, this time with noticeably more force.

Wenger, watching from the sidelines, witnessed everything.

He knew that such reunions were often the most likely to ignite the players' fighting spirit.

The camera pans across the media area of ​​the Stade Louis II, where journalists from various countries are giving pre-match reports in front of their cameras.

BBC Sport reporter: "This is BBC Sport. Wenger is constantly adjusting tactics on the sidelines, and the Arsenal players are extremely focused during warm-up. Look, Henry and Bergkamp are practicing short passing combinations; their understanding is amazing."

Sky Sports reporter pointed onto the field: "This is Tom from Sky Sports. Deschamps looks very serious on Monaco's side. From what we understand, he emphasized the counter-attacking tactic before the match. Roy and Giuly are making frequent runs down the flanks, and they will definitely try to find a breakthrough point on the wings in the upcoming match."

An ESPN reporter approached the camera: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Kate from ESPN. Arsenal goalkeeper Lehmann is practicing his saves in front of the goal, and defensive stalwarts Campbell and Toure have made almost no mistakes during warm-up and look to be in excellent form."

"Today they're facing Monaco's attacking linchpin, Roy. From what we understand..."

“Oh, that’s an interesting side story. NBA star LeBron James and Roy are close friends, and he sent a congratulatory video before the game. In the video, LeBron said—” Kate cleared her throat, mimicking the basketball star’s tone, “bro, I believe you can lead Monaco to their first championship.”

She paused abruptly, glanced down at the cue card in her hand, and gave a slightly embarrassed smile:

"Sorry, it's the EuroLeague champions! It seems LeBron's basketball terminology is deeply ingrained."

A reporter from the French newspaper L'Équipe: "Monaco midfielder Pedretti has performed excellently in training, and his interception ability could be key to limiting Arsenal's attack."

A Marca reporter said: "We noticed that Roy attempted several long-range shots during warm-up, and more notably, Real Madrid's sporting director was sitting in the stands closely watching his performance."

He lowered his voice and gave a meaningful look:

"As far as we know, Roy made an interesting choice regarding his agent. When Zahavi offered Chelsea a lucrative deal, he suddenly fired his current agent and chose Mendes, the Portuguese agent who had recently been closely linked with Real Madrid."

"This decision is intriguing. Roy is a product of Real Madrid's youth academy, and now he's chosen Real Madrid's 'official' agent. According to sources, Mendes was originally tasked with mediating this transfer. Perhaps... this time next year, we'll see him warming up in a pure white jersey at the Bernabéu."

Finally, he added:
"Of course, it all depends on tonight's performance. If Roy can lead Monaco to eliminate Arsenal, his value will increase by at least 1000 million euros. President Florentino is probably watching this game closely in his office."

A Times reporter said: "Vieira showed great control during the halftime warm-up, and his ability to compete will be key to Arsenal's ability to control the game."

A reporter from Gazzetta dello Sport wrote: "Bergkamp has repeatedly attempted exquisite lob passes in training; Monaco center-back Squillaci needs to be especially wary of his creativity."

A reporter from Bild said: "Lehmann performed excellently in save training, especially in handling low balls. Monaco striker Morientes' positioning will test his reaction speed."

A reporter from Mundo Deportivo wrote: "Arsenal full-back Ashley Cole frequently made forward runs during warm-up, putting Monaco's right-back Maicon under immense defensive pressure."

Daily Mail reporter: "Wenger said before the match that this game was crucial to Arsenal's Champions League dreams and that the players must remain 100% focused."

A reporter from Le Parisien wrote: "The atmosphere was electric! Monaco fans were singing their support songs, and this home-field advantage could put psychological pressure on the Arsenal players."

Kicker reporter Holger, observing the warm-up from the sidelines, said to the camera:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we see Arsenal midfielder Parlour practicing his crosses repeatedly, and his accuracy with the curve is quite good. Monaco's wing defense needs to pay special attention to this."

"It's worth noting that Ljungberg is not in Arsenal's starting lineup today. The Swedish midfielder usually provides the team with faster breakthroughs on the wings and a stronger attacking threat. In contrast, Parlour's technical characteristics are more inclined towards playmaking and accurate passing."

"This adjustment means Arsenal may reduce individual breakthroughs on the wings and instead rely on a more solid crossing tactic. Monaco manager Deschamps must weigh whether to adjust the defensive strategy."

"Judging from the warm-up, Parlour is in good form, but his speed is indeed not as good as Ljungberg's. This may give Monaco's full-backs more opportunities to push forward and assist."

A reporter from La Repubblica wrote: "Deschamps emphasized before the match that Monaco must take advantage of their home ground to try and take the lead in the first leg."

The Daily Telegraph reporter: "Henry made several quick changes of direction during warm-up, and Monaco's left-back Evra will face a tough test."

A Guardian commentator summarized: "This match is not only a tactical contest, but also a battle of wits between two renowned French managers, Wenger and Deschamps. Who will gain the upper hand? Let's wait and see!"

Inside the VIP box, Nike executive Mark loosened his tie and turned to Mendes, saying, "Jorge, when you strongly invited me to watch the Champions League match live last time, were you already in contact with Roy then?"

Mendes picked up his glass, took a sip, paused for a few seconds, and then said, "To be honest, I really wanted to sign him in the past. But this time he contacted me first."

His gaze fell on Roy, who was warming up on the sidelines.

Mark raised an eyebrow: "That's something new, that Roy would come knocking on your door."

"I didn't expect it to be like this."

Mendes shook his head slightly.

For Mendes, Roy was far more than just an ordinary customer.

The Portuguese agent knew that even without taking a commission from Roy's transfer, the French star's value was still immeasurable.

Mendes stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the VIP box, his gaze following the familiar figure on the field.

Every touch of the ball and every breakthrough by Roy adds luster to his agency.

In Mendes' vision for the future of business, Roy is like a flag.

A living advertisement showcasing the professionalism and strength of Mendes' team to the entire French football world.

The French market has always been an area that Mendes has wanted to cultivate.

With local stars like Roy serving as role models, hesitant young talents will be more easily attracted.

Mendes could even foresee how many French players would come knocking on his door when Roy performed well for the national team.

What's even better is that this time Roy took the initiative to extend the olive branch.

Mendes had already instructed his team to package this as "a top star's endorsement of professional service."

Such stories are far more convincing than monetary transactions.

In media reports, this will be a perfect example of professionalism, trust, and quality.

Watching Roy's effortless performance on the field, Mendes took a small sip of red wine.

He knew that some values ​​could not be measured by commission figures alone.

Roy's success will be his most powerful stepping stone to opening up the French market.

And all this has just begun.

Mark twirled his wine glass and lowered his voice, saying, "Speaking of sponsorship contracts, we are reassessing Ronaldo's renewal terms. Considering his market performance, Nike is prepared to raise its offer."

Mendes nodded calmly.

"However, regarding Roy's next destination, the headquarters would prefer to see him go to Manchester United. Of course, Juventus is also a good option."

He paused for a moment, then said, "It's best not to go to Real Madrid."

Mendes raised an eyebrow: "Oh?"

Mark gave a businesslike smile: "You know, Umbro and Chelsea's contracts aren't expensive. If all else fails, Stamford Bridge is an acceptable option."

He added meaningfully, "After all, the Nike logo on the blue jersey would be a good advertising spot."

A cheer erupted from the sidelines as Roy completed a beautiful shot.

Mendes looked at the figure and said, "Every player has their own career plan. However, I will take your advice to heart."

Mark leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice even further: "Jorge, let's be frank. Real Madrid can only offer a transfer fee, but if you can get Roy to a Nike-sponsored team..."

"In the future, the sponsorship deals your players can get with Nike will be very attractive. That's what long-term business is all about, don't you think?"

Mendes' eyes flickered slightly; he had realized the commercial nature of modern football earlier than most. Mark's words reminded him of the overwhelming Nike advertisements in the NBA—it wasn't just about sponsorship fees, but a complete commercial ecosystem.

His thoughts had already drifted away.

If Roy, Ronaldo, and other star players were all under Nike's umbrella, it would create a perfect business loop. Imagine: summer commercials could feature all his players together; veterans could mentor newcomers during ad shoots; and even interactive marketing campaigns between players could be planned during the European Championship. The exposure generated by this bundled effect is ten times stronger than that of individual efforts.

Mendes remembers clearly that Beckham's commercial value more than tripled when he transferred to Real Madrid last year.

But at that time, the agent was only focused on the transfer fee and missed out on a bigger piece of the pie.

Now it's different. He wants to build the players into a "brand matrix" so that everyone's popularity can amplify each other's.

Mendes' business blueprint slowly unfolded in his mind, but Roy's vision was clearly more advanced.

This French genius has long seen through the essence of modern football—players are not only athletes, but also walking commercial IPs.

While other players were still haggling over personal sponsorship deals, Roy was already conceiving a much grander plan.

He proactively contacted Mendes because he was interested in the agent's vast network of star players.

In Roy's vision, a "superstar league" could be created in the future: sharing commercial resources, attracting fans to each other, and having collective bargaining power.

This is far more powerful than going it alone.

Mendes suddenly realized that Roy might have chosen him because he had access to top stars like Cristiano Ronaldo and Deco.

This young man doesn't want a simple transfer service; he wants a platform that can exponentially increase his commercial value.

Flashbulbs went off all around the court, and Roy flashed his signature smile in front of the cameras.

Mendes understands that in this new media era, players who know how to manage their personal brand are destined to go further.

Roy is clearly at the forefront of this transformation.

"Come on you Arsenal, yeah you are the Hot Stuff,"

(Come on, Arsenal! You're one of the favorites to win the title.)
“Keep telling us we are boring - we will just keep on scoring now!”

(They keep telling us, we're all tired of hearing it: "We need to start scoring goals now!")
In the away stands of the Stade Louis II, the chants of Arsenal's traveling fans pierced the Monaco night sky.

Chants of "One-Nil to the Arsenal" rose and fell, and the red and white scarves stood out brightly under the lights.

Meanwhile, the Gunners pub in north London was packed with fans wearing Arsenal jerseys.

Every table in front of the television was piled high with beer, and the air was filled with the aroma of fish and chips.

Suddenly, the bar door was flung open, and a panting middle-aged man rushed in—it was Old John, a regular customer and the taxi driver who always wore a vintage Arsenal jersey.

"What the hell!"

Old John wiped his sweat and cursed, "That bastard boss in Fulham insisted on assigning me work during the game!"

His walkie-talkie was still crackling, and the car dealership owner's voice came through intermittently: "John Charing Cross. There's a customer."

Old John simply turned off the intercom and plopped down in his usual spot at the bar.

"How is it?" he asked the bartender, Mike, eagerly.

"It's only been seven minutes since the start," Mike handed him a beer he had prepared beforehand, "and they haven't scored yet, but these Monaco guys are tougher than I expected."

"That Roy already got Gilberto a yellow card, and he was forced to foul him a second time just seven minutes later. Wenger made a mistake not signing him last summer. Now I just hope that the Russian guy from Chelsea doesn't get his hands on him, and preferably doesn't go to Manchester United. If you ask me, he should go to Real Madrid, then we won't see each other for years."

Just then, a sudden gasp erupted in the bar.

On the television screen, Pires made a beautiful feint on the left wing, getting past the defender and accurately delivering the ball to Henry's feet.

All the fans stood up unconsciously, their beer glasses hovering in mid-air.

The camera gave Henry a close-up, as he calmly observed the goalkeeper's position.

"Go, Thierry!"

Old John clenched his fists, not caring that beer foam had splashed onto his retro jersey.

The fans in the entire bar held their breath, as if their collective will could travel through the television signal and help Henry, far away in Monaco, complete that shot.

The moment Henry received the ball, Monaco's defense tightened immediately.

Evra quickly closed in to block him, but Henry accelerated past him.

Squillaci fought and retreated, maintaining a safe distance throughout, while left center-back Abidal moved to that side to cover.

Monaco's midfield frantically chased back.

Bernardi made a diagonal run from the side, and Pedretti was desperately trying to get back on defense.

Rothen even dropped back from the attacking midfield position all the way to the edge of the penalty area.

Arsenal's attacking players quickly spread out.

Bergkamp moved to the right side of the penalty area, drawing Abidal's attention.

Pires continued to push forward down the left flank, forcing Maicon to avoid cutting inside.

Vieira quietly pushed up to the edge of the penalty area, ready to receive a pass back at any time.

Henry suddenly slowed down during his high-speed run, and with a gentle flick of his right foot, he shook off Bernardi's diving tackle.

Just as Squillaci pressed forward, he flicked the ball with his left foot, creating space before immediately curling a shot into the far corner.

Roma made a diving save, tipping the ball over the crossbar with one hand.

Inside Monaco's penalty area, Abidal and Squillaci both breathed a sigh of relief, while Pedretti, who had chased back into the box, touched his nose.

Arsenal fans in the stands collectively sighed in despair, then applauded the attack.

"The ball is saved by Roma! Arsenal have a corner kick opportunity!"

British commentator Martin Taylor's voice carried a clear sense of regret: "What a brilliant attack, just a hair's breadth away!"

In the corner area, Pires quickly positioned the ball to prepare for the penalty kick.

Inside the penalty area, players from both sides fiercely battled for position.

Campbell and Toure, the two central defenders, pushed forward, while Monaco players marked them closely.

The corner kick was taken, and Morientes headed it out of the penalty area from the back post.

At the point of impact, Pedretti got to control the ball first.

He tried to turn by stepping on the ball, but Gilberto blocked his position with his body. Already carrying a yellow card, the Brazilian midfielder dared not make any big moves.

Vieira seized the opportunity and charged forward, knocking Pedretti down with a reasonable physical challenge, while simultaneously poking the ball to Bergkamp on the perimeter.

The "Ice Prince" has shown his magic.

Facing Abidal's sliding tackle, he deftly flicked the ball up, sending it over the French defender.

Bergkamp surged into the penalty area and, before the ball even hit the ground, unleashed a powerful volley!
In a flash, Maicon burst out from the side, blocking the shot with his body.

After the ball bounced, Squillaci made a desperate header clearance.

Giuly won the second ball on the perimeter, and he skillfully chipped the ball and turned, but was tightly marked by Ashley Cole, who was always there to keep up with him.

Just before being pushed down, the French winger managed to pass the ball across to Roy, who was making a run into the box.

Monaco's chance to fight back has arrived!

"A beautiful defensive transition!"

The commentator exclaimed, "Now it's Monaco's turn to attack!"

The moment Roy received the ball, Wenger on the sidelines waved his hand and shouted: "Get back! Everyone back!"

Arsenal players quickly retreated.

Vieira made a rapid recovery run from midfield, while Gilberto blocked the space in the flanks.

Lauren kept a close eye on the advancing Evra, while Campbell and Toure tacitly tightened their defensive line.

Monaco's counter-attacks unfolded like a tidal wave. Roy passed the ball to Rothen, who then laid it off to Morientes.

The Spanish striker backheeled the ball to Pedroti, who played a first-time through ball to Giuly who was making an overlapping run.

The French winger made a cutback pass after reaching the byline, and the ball returned to Roy's feet after five passes.

Roy suddenly started moving at the edge of the penalty area.

He used his right foot to dribble past Vieira who was lunging for the ball, and then used his left foot to evade Gilberto.

Just as Campbell stepped forward to block, Roy suddenly accelerated with a burst of speed, and in the instant before losing his balance, he slid in and shot!

"oh--!"

French commentator Thierry Rolland's voice suddenly rose, "Roy's shot! Lehmann fumbled it! There's still a chance—no! Campbell! What a crucial defensive play!"

The ball slipped from Lehmann's fingertips and rolled in front of the goal line.

Giuly had already rushed into the penalty area, but Campbell firmly blocked his position with his shoulder and cleared the ball with a long kick, ending the dangerous situation.

"This is the most exciting attacking match in this season's Champions League!"

Roland exclaimed excitedly, "Look at the quality of these two teams' attacks! The invincible against the invincible! Arsenal is clearly stronger than Bayern Munich and Real Madrid, whom Monaco eliminated earlier. Wenger and Deschamps, Henry and Roy, Vieira and Giuly... My God, the field is almost entirely filled with French elements! This is practically a unique French national derby!"

On the sidelines, Wenger stood with his hands in his trench coat pockets, leaning slightly forward, his eyes fixed on the situation on the field.

He would occasionally shout out short instructions: "Vieira, push forward!" "Lauren, watch your back!"

His eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a tactician.

A few meters away, Deschamps was clapping his hands vigorously, his voice hoarse as he directed, "Roy, get back on defense!" "Pedretti, protect the defensive line!"

His suit jacket was open, his tie was loosened, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

On the Monaco bench, the gray-haired assistant coach Jean Petit looked at Wenger across from him with a wry smile on his lips.

He recalled the young coach he worked with in Monaco ten years ago, who always stayed up late studying videos.

“That troublesome Alsena,” Petit muttered softly, shaking his head.

In the stands, Monaco fans chanted: "Arsène, we are proud of you, but not today!"

The red and white scarf danced like waves.

Then they sang, "Arsenal, come back next year!"

The song carried a hint of jest, yet also conveyed a deep respect for the former coach who had made a name for himself.

Wenger seemed to hear the familiar singing voice; his lips twitched slightly, but he quickly regained his focused expression.

His gaze never left the young figure on the field wearing Monaco's red and white jersey.

Roy, the talent he had to give up last summer, once again outpaced Lauren with his speed, and this time his cross almost resulted in an own goal by Toure.

Wenger subconsciously touched the notebook in the inside pocket of his suit.

It was filled with names like Roy, followed by numbers he couldn't afford.

The lights of the Stade Louis II shone in his eyes, reflecting a fleeting sense of helplessness.

Monaco patiently passed the ball around in their own half, and Bernardi passed it to Evra on the wing.

The French left-back looked up and made a lobbed pass to Roy, who had dropped back to receive the pass.

With his back to Lauren's defense, Roy deftly hooked his right foot and turned around.

Just as Lauren shifted his weight, he suddenly used his left foot to gently push the ball across to the onrushing Pedretti, the whole movement flowing smoothly.

Two minutes later, Roy received the ball again on the left flank.

Facing Vieira's pressure, he feigned cutting inside, but suddenly used his right foot to step over the ball in a fake move, and then used the outside of his left foot to pass the ball to Evra who was overlapping on the wing.

A chorus of exclamations erupted from the stands.

The most exciting moment came a few minutes later.

Roy received the ball near the sideline with his back to goal, seemingly about to pass it to Evra behind him, but at the moment of contact, he gently flicked the ball with his heel, completing a brilliant "no-look pass".

The ball found Rothen making a precise run forward, and Monaco's attack suddenly became much clearer.

French commentator Roland adjusted his headphones, his voice filled with amazement: "The amazing Roy! Although he doesn't hold the ball for long periods like a traditional playmaker, look at how he dominates the game—"

In the shot, Roy receives the ball on the wing once again.

Instead of holding onto the ball, he immediately tapped it to Rothen in the middle with the inside of his foot, while he himself quickly made a diagonal run into the penalty area.

Rothen understood immediately and sent a through pass, which found Roy's running path perfectly.

"Perfect off-the-ball movement!"

Blanc exclaimed in admiration, "Roy's static ball control may not be his strongest point, but his positional awareness and timing of runs are simply innate talents. Look at this combination; he only had the ball for two seconds, yet he completely tore apart Arsenal's defense!"

Wenger unconsciously took a step forward from the sidelines.

He could see it clearly: Roy was like a never-ending gear, perfectly linking Monaco's attacking play through precise passing and tireless running.

After each pass, he always manages to appear in the most threatening position.

Rothen's through ball pierced the defense like a scalpel, and Roy started his run in an instant.

Just as he was about to touch the ball, Arsenal's defensive system reacted immediately:

Campbell quickly moved laterally to block the shooting angle, while Gilberto dropped back to protect the edge of the penalty area.

But Roy's running route was extremely tricky.

He first feigned an inside cut to lure Toure off balance, then suddenly changed direction and moved to the outside.

Toure hurriedly turned around to chase after him, but it was too late.

"Roy! That was a brilliant breakthrough!"

The French commentator's voice suddenly rose.

Roy flicked the ball three times with his right foot, his rhythm varying from fast to slow, leaving Toure completely bewildered about when to break through.

Just as Toure hesitated, Roy suddenly accelerated with a burst of speed!
Touré was forced to reach out and pull Roy down, bringing him down just two meters from the penalty area line.

The referee blew his whistle, and Monaco were awarded a free kick in an excellent position.

The roar at the Stade Louis II instantly intensified, and red and white flags waved wildly in the stands.

On the sidelines, Wenger looked grim.

He clearly remembered that not long ago, Roy had scored a free kick from a similar position against the Netherlands.

Arsenal's defensive wall is currently being arranged in a tense manner.

Lehmann slapped his gloves hard, directing Arsenal's wall of players.

Campbell, Vieira, Toure, and Henry lined up in a row, firmly blocking the near post.

Gilberto was tasked with marking Morientes, while Lauren kept a close eye on Squillaci.

Parlour stood at the edge of the penalty area, ready to intercept a second ball at any moment.

On Monaco's side, Roy stood seemingly casually by the ball, but was actually using his peripheral vision to observe the gaps in the wall of players.

Rothen positioned himself three steps to the left of the starting line.

His left-footed curling shots are also extremely threatening.

Inside the penalty area, Morientes suddenly retreated two steps, then turned and surged forward, attempting to shake off Gilberto's marking. Squillaci, meanwhile, quietly circled around to the far end of the wall, preparing to contest for the far post.

The most dangerous one is Evra.

The left-back did not enter the penalty area, but instead lurked at 25 yards.

Once the ball is cleared, his long-range shot could pose a dangerous threat at any time.

"Watch out for the back post! Keep an eye on number 18 (Morientes)!"

Lehmann's shouts were barely audible in the bustling stadium.

The cheers of the Monaco fans grew louder and louder, and everyone held their breath, waiting for the free kick that could change the score.

Roy stood about seven steps behind the ball, hands on his hips, taking a deep breath.

Look at this young man.

Blanco's voice suddenly softened, as if whispering in a church. "He just stood there, 19 years old, yet with the composure of a 30-year-old veteran. The noise of the stadium seemed irrelevant to him, only his eyes—sharp as a drawn sword, fixed on the upper right corner of the goal."

The night breeze ruffled his short black hair, and the stadium spotlights cast a resolute shadow on his sharply defined profile.

He slowly stepped back to prepare for his run-up, his slender figure appearing exceptionally upright in the red and white jersey.

"His composure at this crucial moment that could decide the outcome of the game was chilling. While the Arsenal players were pacing anxiously behind the wall, this young man was as relaxed as if he were practicing in his own backyard."

"Could this free kick be the first bullet to sink Arsenal's warship? Look at his run-up—so elegant, yet so deadly." Lehmann nervously adjusted his gloves; he knew this night might be etched into Champions League history.

Lyman slapped his gloves hard, shifting left and right behind the human wall, constantly adjusting his position.

His eyes were fixed on Roy's supporting foot, trying to predict the direction of the shot.

Sweat slid down his temples, glistening under the spotlight.

Campbell tensed all his muscles, protected his vitals with his hands, and slightly bent his knees within the human wall.

His eyes were fierce, as if he wanted to glare the ball back.

Vieira, standing beside him, kept turning his head to check his teammates' positions, shouting defensive instructions, but his voice was drowned out by the cheers of the fans.

Toure nervously bit his lower lip, shifting his feet uneasily within the human wall.

He secretly glanced at Wenger on the sidelines.

The professor stood in the technical area with his arms crossed, his eyes behind his glasses unblinking.

Wenger's right hand was fiddling with the buttons on his suit jacket, a small gesture he made when nervous.

The fourth official on the sidelines had to remind Wenger to retreat to the coaching area.

The cheers of the Monaco fans grew louder and louder, while everyone on the Arsenal bench stood up, their fingers gripping the back of their seats.

Roy began his running start.

First came three light, quick steps, followed by two large, powerful strides.

His movements were fluid and graceful, and the muscle lines of his right leg were faintly visible under his basketball shorts as he swung.

The moment he touched the ball, Roy's run-up suddenly stopped, just as the Arsenal wall leaped up.

His body was almost at a 45-degree angle to the ground, his left foot firmly planted on the grass, and his right instep precisely struck the lower part of the ball.

The ball sped off along the grass, whistling past Campbell and Vieira as they leaped into the air.

Lehmann's view was completely blocked by the wall of players, and by the time he saw the ball coming, it was already half a beat too late.

The ball struck the inside of the far post with a loud clang.

Just as Lehmann was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the ball bounced up strangely and deflected into the net at the angle between the crossbar and the post.

The entire Stade Louis II erupted in chaos.

The red and white scarves in the stands billowed like waves, while the substitutes on the sidelines jumped up and waved their arms wildly.

Countless French families watching the match erupted in cheers in front of their televisions.

"Unbelievable! Look at this goal! Roy outmaneuvered Arsenal's entire defense in the most cunning way. The moment the wall jumped, he deliberately slowed his run-up, and his low shot went right past Campbell and Vieira. Lehmann's view was completely blocked, and by the time he saw the ball, it was too late. To make matters worse, the ball hit the post and then bizarrely deflected into the net. This kind of luck is simply beyond words."

"The unbeaten team in the Premier League this season is now facing a tough test at the Stade Louis II. To be honest, this goal exposed the weaknesses in our set-piece defense - the timing of the wall's jump and the goalkeeper's positioning are questionable."

"There were still 10 minutes left in the first half, but Monaco's morale was already fully up, and the atmosphere at their home stadium was simply suffocating."

Wenger gently rubbed the corners of his reddened eyes with his fingertips, a subtle gesture that betrayed his inner turmoil.

Lyman slowly got up from the grass and brushed the grass clippings off his gloves.

He stared at the ball still rolling in the goal, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The goalkeeper is most helpless against this kind of deflection.

Roy suddenly leaped up from his teammates, his black hair flying in the spotlight.

He clenched his fist against the night sky, his young face glowing with excitement.

The Monaco fans in the stands chanted "Démon Roi!" in unison, and the advertising boards seemed to tremble.

Henry walked over to Vieira, and the two exchanged a wry smile.

Vieira spat angrily and said to Henry in a low voice, "If this kid beats us to get into the final, plus his performance in eliminating Real Madrid before..."

He didn't finish speaking, but both of them understood what he meant.

Henry squinted at Roy's celebration, his memory flashing back to the training camp before the Confederations Cup last summer.

Just because of Wiltord, this kid dared to talk back to these veterans to their faces.

"You'd better keep Wiltord under your wing forever."

The provocation in that tone still makes Henry clench his fists when he thinks about it.

If he wins the Champions League now
"The European Championship is just around the corner," Vieira said through gritted teeth. "If we let him enter the national team with the glory of winning the Champions League..."

The two exchanged a look.

If even Zidane can't control this momentum, who in the locker room will be able to keep this young up at bay?
The French journalists in the press box on the sidelines were already excitedly whispering among themselves.

It's clear to everyone that if Roy maintains this form, he will become a national idol at the European Championship.

By then, the power structure in the national team's locker room will likely undergo a complete transformation.

Arsenal launched a counterattack immediately after conceding the goal.

Henry kicked off from the center circle and immediately passed the ball back to Vieira, who then launched a long pass to Parlour on the right wing.

Monaco's right-back Maicon retreated while fighting, eventually clearing the ball out of bounds near the byline.

Arsenal's throw-in tactics are quite straightforward.

Lauren threw the ball powerfully into the penalty area, Campbell leaped high, and headed the ball to Bergkamp.

The Dutchman gracefully controlled the ball and turned, but his shot was blocked by Bernardi's diving save.

The ball bounced to the outside, and Gilberto followed up with a long-range shot, which grazed the crossbar and went out of bounds.

Monaco goalkeeper Roma deliberately delayed kickoff, drawing protests from Arsenal players.

When he finally launched a long ball, Morientes outjumped Toure in the attacking third and headed it across, allowing Roy to quickly break through and create a one-on-one opportunity!

Lehmann made a decisive move, diving to block Roy's shot from the edge of the penalty area, deflecting it out of bounds.

The pace of the game is getting faster and faster.

In the 42nd minute, Pires broke through on the left wing, cut inside, and played a one-two with Henry before breaking into the penalty area.

Just as he was about to kick the ball, Abidal made a precise sliding tackle to clear it.

Monaco immediately launched a quick counter-attack, with Rothen dribbling through the middle and passing the ball to Giuly on the right wing just outside the penalty area.

Giuly unleashed a powerful shot from a tight angle, but Lehmann made another brilliant save, tipping the ball over the crossbar with one hand.

In those ten minutes, the two sides traded blows back and forth, with the offense and defense switching so fast it was breathtaking.

The roar of the Stade Louis II rose and fell with every attack, and everyone could feel it.

The next goal could very well decide the course of the game.

Rothen took the corner kick, and Morientes leaped up in the crowd, delivering a powerful header that flew straight into the bottom right corner of the goal.

Lehmann dived to the side and blocked the ball with one hand, the ball bouncing strangely towards the edge of the six-yard box.

Parlor hurriedly tried to help, but ended up kicking the ball.

Pedretti cleverly stretched out his foot to block the ball, which slammed heavily into Campbell's chest.

The England center-back instinctively put his hands behind his back, but the ball bounced back to the right side of the penalty area.

Kuri arrived like a ghost, and with his body almost out of balance, he executed a bicycle kick!

The ball burst through the crowd and darted into the net.

Lehmann remained in his save position, only able to watch the ball go into the net.

"2-0!"

The French commentator almost cracked his voice, "Monaco scores again! This goal was full of drama—Campbell dared not touch the ball with his hands, but Giuly finished it off in the most gorgeous way!"

Ferguson sprang up from the living room sofa, nearly dropping the whiskey glass in his hand.

"Good job!"

He roared at the television, not caring that wine had splashed onto his bathrobe, "That's it, let those Londoners tuck their tails between their legs and go back to England!"

He paced back and forth on the Persian carpet, his Scottish accent growing heavier: "Damn board, still dragging their feet on the transfer budget! Look at this kid's performance!"

He pointed at Roy on the screen, who was celebrating with Giuly, spitting as he spoke, "If Manchester United fans could see a genius like this making Arsenal and Liverpool run around like crazy every year, the roof of Old Trafford would be lifted off by cheers!"

He tilted his head back and gulped down a large mouthful of whiskey, then, as if intoxicated, pointed at the grim-faced Wenger on TV and winked, "Arsène. Manchester United are out this year, so you can forget about winning."

Inside the VIP box, Abramovich slammed his fist on the bulletproof glass, making the champagne glasses clink.

"See that? Besides Roy, I want that short Frenchman too!"

The Russian tycoon pointed at Giuly celebrating on the field and shouted, "They are a match made in heaven!"

Agent Zahavi frowned and pulled out his notebook: "Roman, calm down. We already have Duff, and we've already booked Robben for the summer. Add Glenkjaer and Joe Cole to that."

"I don't care about that!"

Abramovich rudely interrupted him, "Look at their teamwork! Can Duff and Robben produce this kind of chemistry?"

His gaze was fixed on the Monaco wingers on the field, as if he were staring at two diamonds waiting to be cut.

Zahavi sighed helplessly, looking at the densely packed names on the list.

This summer, the locker room at Stamford Bridge is likely to witness another fierce battle.

"Two-nil down for the Arsenal!"

British commentator Martin Tyler's voice was full of bitterness: "This is probably the most embarrassing half for Wenger's team this season. Look at Monaco's two goals - a cunning free kick and a bicycle kick in the chaos, which made the unbeaten Premier League team dizzy."

The scoreboard at the Stade Louis II coldly displayed 0-2, and the Arsenal players, heads down, walked toward the dressing room, looking particularly forlorn amidst the Monaco fans' jubilation. Vieira kept complaining to the referee, while Henry pulled up his jersey to wipe his sweat. It was probably the only thing he could hide tonight, after all, their proud defense had been completely torn apart by the 'youngsters' and the 'little guys'.

"The second 45 minutes will either be Arsenal's greatest comeback of the season, or it could be the end of their Champions League campaign. What Wenger needs to do now is to get his players to forget that damn unbeaten record and fight like true challengers."

"Wenger now faces a tough decision," commentator Taylor's voice grew heavy. "Look at the table, Arsenal's lead in the Premier League is far from secure. Chelsea and Manchester United are neck and neck, and next round they face their North London rivals, Tottenham. If the scoreline continues to widen tonight..."

He paused, as if reluctant to finish: "We all know Arsenal's tendency to falter in the final stages of the last few seasons. If they return to London with a 0-3 or worse score, Wenger will likely rotate his squad in the second leg at Highbury – after all, the chances of a Champions League comeback are slim, while the league title is the real prize."

The camera pans across the Arsenal bench, where Gaspart and Nonda are warming up.

“But that means giving up the honor of reaching the Champions League semi-finals,” Taylor sighed. “For a team that has been undefeated all season, that’s a really bitter choice.”

(End of this chapter)