From Arsenal to the Ball God-Chapter 49: I’m Backing You!

"Oh....!"

Not long after they sat down, a massive wave of cheering came from outside, causing the ground and walls to tremble slightly.

They were inside the stadium, right beneath the fan section, so it was perfectly normal to feel this.

Ma’el listened carefully and smiled, "It must be our goal, definitely."

Gilbert nodded in agreement; the away fans couldn’t possibly make such a sound.

"Yeah....!" Another similar resounding voice came about ten minutes later.

Clearly, it was the home fans cheering again.

They crushed Portsmouth and achieved a big win at home!

Ma’el’s expression changed several times before settling into a sigh, "Remember two months ago at home, we would tell if it was our team or the opponent scoring just by the size of the cheer."

"Yeah."

Gilbert was also filled with emotion, recalling, "Kevin was still around then, and neither of us could even make it to the roster. Who would’ve thought, now we’re experiencing all of this firsthand."

"Not just as bystanders." Ma’el spoke without hesitation, raising an eyebrow, "But as contributors."

Today, he scored 2 goals and Gilbert assisted 1. Together, they created 3 goals, owning all the goals before leaving the field.

Looking back, this would have seemed unbelievable.

No one expected the two of them to progress so quickly. Not even themselves.

"So, does that mean we’re sitting here, having achieved success and retired with fame?"

Gilbert laughed heartily, then gradually turned serious, taking a breath and sighing, "It’s just, we don’t know where we’ll stop, do we?"

He feared that everything in front of him was just a mirage, which perhaps one day would vanish without a trace.

Ma’el did not answer his question because he didn’t know where he would stop either.

Stop endlessly?

That seemed unlikely, but he wanted to reach further.

In this land where football reigns, he hoped to stand at the highest peak, experiencing the elation of seeing mountains lower beneath him, which is the highest pursuit for any player.

"We won... we’re number one...!"

Just then, a local celebratory song from England came drifting in, "Put on your shoes, wipe off the dirt... go home and cry...!"

The sound of cheerful footsteps approached as the Sheffield United players pushed open the door, returning to the locker room, raising their hands in celebration.

They didn’t give Ma’el and Gilbert, who were caught up in today’s storm, any chance to speak. They pulled both into their own self-made dance, treating them the same as everyone else.

Feeling sad, sighing, or comforting them?

There’s nothing more satisfying than celebrating; after winning a game, nothing else matters. Just enjoy!

Ma’el swung his shoulders, swayed his hips, and laughed as he joined the wave of celebration.

Only then did he immerse himself into the joyful atmosphere.

After this match, he now had a record of 4 goals and 4 assists, creating 8 goals since the start of the season!

Closing in on the 15 goals required for the next raise!

Such performance was bound to catch the attention of Professor Wenger soon. He was ready to take off from the springboard.

"Five to zero! Portsmouth is lost! A clean sheet victory!"

Team captain Robert raised his gloves high, acting as though seeking credit, "I blocked at least two great goal-scoring opportunities for them. When the schedule eases up, you must buy me a drink!"

Many responded positively, and even assistant coach Jorson pointed at him with a laugh, "If no one does, I will!"

Yet another cheer erupted until head coach Garrispeed opened the door and walked in, slightly quieting the voices.

Everyone turned to look at him, knowing he’d have something to say.

Garrispeed was straightforward, coming to Gilbert’s side, "From the team’s perspective, it was a stupid and reckless move, a breach of professional ethics.

"But personally, I back you. I think Ma’el would too."

Ma’el nodded as he watched, listening as he continued, "I will use all my connections to pressure The English FA for leniency, but you won’t escape discipline, understood?"

"Thank you, boss, I understand." Gilbert chuckled calmly, putting one hand on his forehead and flicking his eyebrow, indicating he was fine.

Garrispeed turned and surveyed the room, his serious expression suddenly turning into a smile, "Keep celebrating; you deserve it all. Ma’el, you come with me to the post-match press conference."

"Oh....!" Cheering resounded once more, as players sang the same song again, many closing their eyes, savoring every moment.

Ma’el followed Garrispeed, heading towards the post-match press conference room.

On the way, Garrispeed didn’t give any specific instructions, probably trusting him not to say anything inappropriate.

......

The bar street, Kedao’er Store.

The joy of the 5-0 thrilling victory spread here, with most fans red-faced from drinking, speaking loudly and carefree.

"Let me tell you, when I was 16, my talents were quite similar to Ma’el and Gilbert, I was in the Reading youth academy back then!"

"You can’t compare...."

On TV appeared the scene of the press conference, where Ma’el and Garrispeed sat in the main positions, surrounded by countless cameras.

"Congratulations, Ma’el, on being awarded the Man of the Match again. Here’s the commemorative trophy. Sorry to give it to you here since you had already returned to the locker room at that time." A staff member presented a small crystal cup.

In that moment, many fans raised their glasses towards Ma’el on the screen.

Clearly, they had already regarded Ma’el as one of their own, eager to celebrate with him.

"Transfermarkt reported yesterday that they would update player values on September 23. How much of an increase do you think your value will see?" A journalist stood up, posing the question.

While Ma’el was still pondering, the fans in the bar were already answering for him.

"5 million euros!"

"4 million!"

"No, 8 million euros!"

"Wrong! If a club offered 8 million euros for Ma’el now, do you think Arsenal would let him go?"

"Transfermarkt is authoritative, but the value given often doesn’t match a player’s real worth. I guess they’ll rate it around 5 million euros."

Their chatter made it hard for others even to hear Ma’el’s own answer, who only smiled as if making a joke.

Seated at the front, Kedao’er didn’t share his view with everyone; his mental estimation was around 6 to 7 million euros.

"....go home and cry...!" A well-organized chorus came from outside, loud and strong.

Kedao’er turned to see it was a group coming in from attending the match at the stadium, faces flushed, and many had hoarse throats.

Seeing a bar holding an event centered around Ma’el, many walked in, immediately asking about signed merchandise.

"Ma’el performed so well today; spending a hundred pounds on him, worth it!"

"I want one too, old man, quickly give me one."

"Me too!"

They shouted, creating another wave of tumult.

Kedao’er waved his hand with a wry smile, now facing the happy problem of demand, "No more left, each week’s limit is 25, you can come back later."

Many left disappointed, but quite a few stayed, filling the empty tables again.

Ma’el’s influence had flowed here, marking a very successful minor endorsement, proving he could win over the fans’ love.