God Of football - Chapter 389

Chapter 389: Troll
“And here we go again! Arsenal and Liverpool return for the second half under the floodlights of SoFi Stadium, and if the first 45 minutes were anything to go by, we are in for a thrilling conclusion.

Arsenal lead 2-1, but Liverpool are far from beaten. You can feel the tension in the air, the anticipation in the stands—this is preseason, but it does not feel like it!”

Lee Dixon chimed in. “No, it doesn’t, Peter. There’s a real edge to this game. Arsenal, with Izan at the heart of it, have been the sharper side, but Liverpool have that never-say-die mentality.

You know they won’t roll over. And you never know what will happen until the final whistle sounds.”

The players walked to their positions under the gazes of the fans who had enjoyed every bit of the first 45 and were waiting for the second.

After making sure everything was set, the referee blew his whistle, and the ball was rolling again.

Liverpool came out with fire. Their press was more aggressive, their tackles sharper.

Mac Allister and Gravenberch pushed higher up, suffocating the midfield.

Arsenal struggling to keep their rhythm early on were forced into hurried clearances as Liverpool pushed them deeper.

Then, in the 49th minute, Arsenal broke free.

Izan, as if untouched by Liverpool’s pressure, received the ball under tight marking.

With a body feint, he left Mac Allister reaching at air before flicking a pass out to Martinelli, who immediately burst down the left.

The Brazilian met Arnold who tries stalling for help but the former turned away and whipped in a teasing cross to which Havertz met it with his head!

“OH, BIG SAVE BY ALISSON!”

The Liverpool goalkeeper reacted instantly, stretching out a strong hand to push it away.

Arsenal had come close, but Liverpool remained alive. The resulting corner amounted to nothing after Allison caught the ball mid-air.

After this, it was all safe and secure passes being threaded around. That was until Liverpool responded in the 56th minute.

A quick interchange between Szoboszlai and Salah opened a path through the right.

Zinchenko hesitated, and Salah took full advantage, cutting inside before whipping a dangerous low cross into the six-yard box.

Darwin Núñez who had replaced Gakpo after the halftime break slid in clipping the ball with his outer foot!

“NUÑEZ! JUST WIDE!”

The Uruguayan came inches away from leveling the game, but his touch sent the ball past the post.

“Liverpool knocking on the door now!” Dixon exclaimed. “Arsenal need to weather this storm.”

…….

It was now the 65th minute and by now, it was clear to everyone in the stadium that Izan was the difference.

No matter how tightly Liverpool marked him, he continued to glide through their midfield, always available, always a step ahead.

Frustration began to creep in and then came the first rough challenge.

Izan received the ball near the center circle, shielding it as Mac Allister lunged in from behind.

He took the contact but kept his balance, only for Gravenberch to step across him, dragging him down with an outstretched leg.

The whistle shrieked.

“And that’s a clear foul! Arsenal get the free kick, but Liverpool’s midfielders are walking a fine line now!” Drury remarked.

The referee, however, kept his cards in his pocket.

Izan dusted himself off, barely sparing a glance at the two midfielders. But the tackles didn’t stop.

Three minutes later, another hit.

This time, Izan weaved through the press, shaking off Gravenberch before Mac Allister clattered into him, leading with his knee.

“And now the referee HAS to take action!” Dixon barked.

The Arsenal bench erupted. Arteta stormed towards the fourth official, yelling, while the Arsenal fans inside SoFi Stadium voiced their anger.

“Hey! That’s the third time!” a man in an Arsenal jersey shouted.

In the Liverpool sections, the mood was different.

“He’s too good, man. What else can they do?”

Finally, the referee pulled out a yellow card for Mac Allister. But the damage was done.

The match was losing its structure. Fouls were piling up and tempers were flaring.

.

Izan stood up, brushing himself off, and as the referee’s whistle echoed around the stadium, he smirked slightly.

Mac Allister’s yellow card was a small victory, but Izan wasn’t done yet.

He had seen enough to know that Liverpool’s aggression was their undoing.

“Strength in numbers, huh?” he thought. If they wanted to crowd him out, he would drag them into deeper waters.

If they wanted to press, he would force them into fouls. They were walking a fine line, and Izan was about to push them over it.

Arsenal restarted play, working the ball to the left where Zinchenko and Martinelli combined before rolling it inside to Izan.

Luiz Diaz was pressing from the wing, closing in, but Izan was already a step ahead.

He dipped his shoulder and cut inside, shifting the ball past Díaz with a sharp turn.

Díaz frozen in place, forced himself to lunge in, mistiming his challenge completely.

His boot clattered against Izan’s shin, sending him stumbling to the ground.

“AND THAT’S ANOTHER ONE!” Peter Drury’s voice soared over the noise as the referee’s whistle shrieked.

“Luis Díaz cleans out Izan, and the referee goes straight to his pocket!”

The Arsenal fans inside SoFi Stadium exploded in jeers, their voices bouncing off the towering walls of the arena.

“Oh, c’mon, man! That’s dirty!”

“They can’t stop him, so they’re just hacking him down!”

Díaz threw his hands up, arguing that he got the ball, but the referee wasn’t interested. Out came the yellow.

On the touchline, Arne Slot’s expression twisted in frustration. This was getting out of hand. Two of his players were booked, and Arsenal still had full control.

Liverpool needed to regroup, but Izan wasn’t giving them time.

Only three minutes later, he found space again, dropping deep to pick up the ball from Declan Rice.

Mac Allister and Gravenberch immediately rushed him, trying to force him backward.

But Izan wasn’t backing down.

He let Mac Allister come close before flicking the ball between his legs and darting forward.

The crowd roared as he broke free, but before he could surge into space—

WHACK.

Gravenberch, in sheer desperation, dragged him down with both hands. A cynical foul.

The referee didn’t hesitate. Another yellow card flashed in the air.

“Liverpool are falling into the trap! They just can’t deal with him!” Lee Dixon said. “That’s three of their players booked now!”

The Arsenal players weren’t hiding their amusement. Even Havertz, usually calm, grinned at Izan as they jogged back into position.

On the sidelines, Arne Slot sighed. He had seen enough.

He turned to his coaching staff, gesturing furiously. He wanted to win this game—badly—but not at the cost of a red card.

“Ryan and Alexis are coming off.” He pointed to the substitutes’ bench, calling on Wataru Endo and Curtis Jones.

As the board went up, Gravenberch and Mac Allister exchanged frustrated looks. They knew what this meant—they had lost their battles against Izan.

The Arsenal fans mocked them as they left the pitch.

“Subbed off? Already?”

“Izan cooked them, man.”

Meanwhile, on the field, Izan stood with his hands on his hips, watching them go.

Two of his markers—gone.

As Gravenberch and Mac Allister trudged off the field, Endo and Curtis Jones quickly entered the fray. Arne Slot’s tactical shift was clear: fresh legs to deal with Izan.

But the new arrivals had to be more disciplined than their predecessors if they were to stop the Arsenal star without resorting to fouling.

The play resumed, and Izan immediately became the focal point again.

Declan Rice dropped a pass to him in the middle of the park, just outside the center circle.

Endo was immediately in his face, charging forward with an intensity that had been lacking from the earlier midfielders.

Izan quickly adjusted his body, evading the initial press from the Japanese midfielder with a deft spin to the side, but Endo wasn’t done.

He shadowed Izan’s every move, watching him closely, waiting for a misstep. And when Izan tried to push the ball a little too far ahead—Endo pounced.

The midfielder slid in, his foot clipping the ball perfectly, dispossessing Izan in a well-timed challenge.

The crowd inside SoFi Arena collectively gasped at the moment of brilliance from the substitute but Endo wasn’t finished.

He drove the ball forward, making a sprinting run through the heart of the midfield.

He looked up and saw Curtis Jones open on the left.

With a sharp pass, Endo fed Jones into space just outside the box. The Liverpool fans around the stadium held their breath as Jones controlled the ball.

He cut inside with pace, looking to get a shot off, but William Saliba was quick to close him down, forcing Jones to take a shot from a tight angle.

But the ball ricocheted off Saliba’s boot and found its way to Mohamed Salah near the edge of the 18-yard box.

Salah, ever clinical in these situations, seized the moment.