Chapter 290: Chapter 91: The Fiery Derby! Super Backheel Nutmeg! Wenger’s Heart in Full Bloom! (Part 1)

"Beep!"

After the second half kicked off, the situation became increasingly tense as both teams engaged in a fierce tussle across all areas of the pitch.

Everyone knew this was a must-win match, carrying the expectations of so many!

Because of this, as the game progressed, everyone’s pressure grew, leading to frequent simple mistakes from both sides.

This intensified the tension; every basic mistake had the potential to create a fifty-fifty ball, and the intensity of their contest rose a notch.

"Kill him!"

"Be tougher!"

"Don’t let your mom know you’re a coward!"

"Haha!"

Coupled with the extreme fans on the sidelines constantly stirring up trouble, the players on the field reached a breaking point, and their actions became increasingly aggressive.

In the 52nd minute, Kyle Walker ran out to mark Arteta in the central area.

A bit overzealous, he pounced fiercely, allowing Arteta to dodge him and find a passing angle.

"Bang!"

Noticing the open space on the side, Ma’el had no choice but to take Arteta down with a foul to stop a threatening attack opportunity.

"Beep!" The referee blew the whistle, pulling out the first yellow card of the match.

"Are you playing soccer?!"

Arteta got up and approached Walker to argue, only to be pushed away by the latter.

Ma’el watched them with a complicated expression, only leaving when he saw they weren’t continuing their confrontation.

He knew that such fouls would become the main theme on the field from then on.

In the 60th minute, Sagna took down the Welsh sharpshooter Bell in a side defense, receiving a yellow card as well.

It wasn’t over yet; just 2 minutes later, Ramsey’s errant pass forced Arteta to make a tactical foul to stop Tottenham’s quick attack.

Brother Ta received another yellow card, dissatisfied, waving at Ramsey, essentially taking the yellow card meant for Ramsey.

"Sorry." Ramsey waved back anxiously, his emotions slightly off-kilter.

"Pull it together!"

Captain Van Persie clapped in encouragement, noticing the subtle changes among the team and feeling uneasy, "Focus on the goal, okay? Just one goal, and everything will be fine."

Ma’el agreed with him; both sides needed one goal to regain their rhythm—whoever scored first could stabilize their footing.

Of course, one goal might not be secure enough.

He hoped the team could strive for 5-8 threatening attack opportunities, convert them into 3 great scoring chances, and capitalize on 2 of them.

...

After entering the 65th minute, Tottenham manager Redknapp stood on the sideline, anxiously watching the field.

An experienced coach, he had been patient and calm, not bringing any unpleasantness from press conferences onto the field, calmly accepting both leads and being equalized.

But now it was different; the game was about to end, and the most crucial moment had arrived.

At this time, no one could remain calm..... Redknapp glanced at Wenger on the opposite side, finding him mirrored his expression.

These old rivals shared a tacit understanding; it was up to who would appear smiling at the post-match press conference.

"Bang."

In the 64th minute, Modric received a pass from Kyle Walker in the midfield, but his first touch was a mistake, popping the ball up.

However, his recovery was excellent, first flicking the ball over Arteta, then using a quick move to get past Alexander Song.

Agility had always been his trait; his explosiveness and body weren’t impressive, and without foot skills, he couldn’t have topped Tottenham’s history as a record transfer.

"Bang!"

The next moment, he delivered a highly penetrating pass, the ball reaching the right side wing position.

Right winger Defoe charged up, took a quick glance at Bell’s far-post position, and curved in a cross.

"Here’s a chance! Defoe’s cross is well-placed!

"Sagna couldn’t outmuscle Bell, and Bell is facing an open goal at the far post!

"Header!.... Oh no! Hit the post! What terrible luck!

"Bell, why not aim at the open goal earlier? Instead, you pursued angle, squandering a golden scoring chance! Damn, cough cough....!"

After his header, Bell stood dazed, looking lost, as if he forgot where he was.

Even as the ball fell back into the box, he didn’t compete, leaving Mertesacker to clear it out to the right sideline.

From the midfield line, Modric, seeing this, crouched holding his head, a wave of frustration overcoming him.

"Oh.....!" Redknapp looked shellshocked, feeling a strong urge to bench Bell—youth sometimes brings instability.

On the sideline, Hector threw a sideline ball, which was intercepted by the rushing-back Arsenal winger Walcott.

Having intercepted the ball, Walcott struggled to stop, chasing it all the way to his side’s baseline, where, as Hector came rushing, he twisted his body and delivered a long pass to the other end.

"Bang!"

To impart power, he propelled his body, extracting the last bit of force as his unstable balance erupted.

The ball soared high, with intense power, aiming towards Tottenham’s left flank, where Ma’el and Kyle Walker jostled for control of the ball.

"The ball soared high, its trajectory unpredictable..... it’s a tough ball to control, and the two might have to resolve it with a header duel!"