God Of football - Chapter 391

Chapter 391: Something Special
Izan’s sheer pace ripped through Liverpool’s defensive shape like a blade.

Robertson and Konaté backpedaled furiously, but Izan was already past the midfield line, Havertz breaking forward alongside him, Martinelli flying up the left.

A glance up. Izan saw the whole pitch like a grand puzzle unfolding.

Options everywhere.

The easy choice would have been to slide it left, where Martinelli had acres of space. But that wasn’t Izan’s style. He wanted to cut deeper.

He pushed the ball forward, Konaté stepping out to engage, but the Frenchman mistimed it.

A lightning-fast feint—right, then left—sent the defender stumbling, his balance thrown off.

“He’s left Konaté eating grass! He’s going straight at Van Dijk!”

And suddenly, it was Izan against Liverpool’s captain, one-on-one.

Van Dijk held his ground, his massive frame an imposing wall. But Izan wasn’t afraid. If anything, he was excited.

How would it feel to come against the best Defender in the premier league?

He dropped his shoulder, shifting the ball slightly outside, forcing Van Dijk to react—then, just as quickly, he cut back inside.

The Dutchman reached out a foot, trying to poke it away—too late.

Izan was past him, inside the box, the goal looming ahead.

“He’s through—he’s still going!” Dixon practically shouted, his excitement spilling over.

Alisson, already wary, rushed out, arms wide, trying to make himself as big as possible.

Izan saw him coming and slowed down just enough—not too much, just enough to keep the control—and with an almost cruel composure, he clipped the ball sideways, straight into Havertz’s path.

“What a ball!”

Havertz, all alone, didn’t hesitate. One touch, then a low, clinical finish past the scrambling Alisson.

Before the ball could hit the back of the net, Havertz was already running towards Izan.

GOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL

“Arsenal have struck again!” Drury’s voice soared over the chaos. “And it’s Izan—again! It started with him, it ended with him, and Kai Havertz makes no mistake!”

The cameras cut to Van Dijk, standing there, hands on hips, eyes narrowed in frustration. Konaté, Mac Allister, Endo—all of them knew.

They had done everything right. And still, it hadn’t been enough.

“He just slices through them, doesn’t he?” Dixon said, almost in awe. “The confidence, the control—Liverpool had their whole midfield on him, and he still breaks away like that.”

In the stands, Arsenal fans were losing their minds, bouncing in celebration, waving their scarves.

On the Liverpool side, frustration grew, some shaking their heads while others slumped into their seats.

Three-One.

Liverpool were back under more pressure.

….

“Well, if this was just a preseason game, someone forgot to tell the players,” Peter Drury declared, his voice laced with excitement.

“Because neither of these teams are holding back now! They are going cut for cut, shot for shot, and save for save here in Los Angeles.”

With Arsenal taking the 3-1 lead, Liverpool had no choice but to respond, and they did so with pure, relentless aggression.

Allison, visibly frustrated, urged his teammates forward as soon as play restarted.

Szoboszlai and Jones pushed high up, while Trent Alexander-Arnold—now fully unleashed—drifted into midfield to dictate play.

Izan, still sharp despite the brutal fouls earlier, adjusted his stance, knowing Liverpool would come at them with everything.

“It’s a chess match now,” Lee Dixon noted. “Liverpool throwing numbers forward, but that means Arsenal can hit them in transition. It’s all about who blinks first.”

The match soon heated and it was all about making it count. Should Liverpool score, they keep the dream of at least drawing alive but should they fail, Arsenal get the edge in their next match when the premier league starts.

In the 75th minute, Trent sent a sweeping diagonal ball over the top, curling beautifully into the right-hand channel.

Salah, already anticipating it, ghosted behind Zinchenko who was looking lifeless, took it down with a soft touch, and drove inside the box.

“Salah is through! This is danger for Arsenal!”

Gabriel rushed to cover, but the Egyptian chopped inside on his left foot so fast that the Brazilian lost his balance, nearly tumbling to the ground.

“Oh, he’s sent Gabriel to the shops!” Lee Dixon gasped.

Salah curled a shot toward the far post, but Raya was at full stretch, diving and parrying it away with his fingertips.

The ball spilled loose. It was anyone’s.

Before Arsenal could react, Luis Díaz pounced on the rebound, smashing a half-volley that seemed destined for the top corner—

Until Ben White threw himself in the way.

“Blocked by White! My word, what a defensive stand from Arsenal!” Drury roared.

White, still on the ground, clenched his fists in victory as the ball ricocheted out for a corner.

Liverpool fans groaned, heads in hands.

“That was the equalizer, Lee. That had to be the equalizer.”

“But Arsenal are putting bodies on the line! Look at that commitment!”

Trent quickly stepping up, whipped a ball curling away from goal. Virgil Van Dijk towering over everyone met the ball but it was cleared away before it even got near Raya.

Arsenal, on the other hand, weren’t just surviving—they were striking back.

Straight from the clearance, Izan controlled the ball under pressure, flicked it past Endo, and surged into Liverpool’s half.

The attack was reminiscent of the one which had just resulted in Liverpool conceding.

Havertz and Martinelli raced ahead, but Izan chose another path—a killer ball slicing through Liverpool’s high line, perfectly weighted for Bukayo Saka.

“Saka’s on the run! Arsenal have numbers!”

The Arsenal winger broke into the box, one-on-one with Alisson. The Brazilian rushed out, making himself big—

And Saka tried to dink it over him but Alisson got a touch!

The ball popped up, spinning toward goal—before Robertson sprinted in and hacked it clear off the line.

“End-to-end stuff! This game is chaos!” Drury emphasized as Trent got to the loose ball.

The Liverpool fans exhaled in relief, while the Arsenal faithful held their heads in their hands.

Both teams pushed harder, abandoning all caution. It was now all or nothing for a supposed preseason game.

Liverpool’s midfielders, even defenders, flooded forward. Arsenal, refusing to sit back, countered at every opportunity.

In the 83rd minute, Szoboszlai smashed a 25-yard rocket, but Raya palmed it over the bar sending the pre-emptive celebration quiet.

Seconds later, Izan slipped past Endo and unleashed a curling shot, only for Alisson to deny him.

“The goalkeepers are working overtime here!” Dixon said.

Every clearance, every interception, every tackle felt like the last stand of a battle.

The fans in SoFi were on their feet, screaming at every chance. The tension was suffocating.

Then, 87th minute.

Izan, once again as cunning as ever, got the ball near the center circle, eyes scanning the pitch.

Liverpool, pushing high, left gaps in their defense.

He saw it.

[Incisive Pass Trait activated ]

With one breathtaking pass, he threaded a ball between the lines, bypassing four Liverpool players to find Martinelli in full sprint.

“Uhh! That pass! That’s disgusting!” Dixon yelled.

Martinelli stormed into the box with only Van Dijk left to beat.

The Dutchman stood his ground forcing Martinelli to commit. The Brazilian forced the ball forward and got a shot off but-

Post.

The ball crashed off the upright and spun back into play.

“Oh, my word! It’s inches from being game over!” Drury shouted.

Martinelli gripped his head in frustration before throwing a thumbs-up at Izan.

Arsenal were so close to putting Liverpool away yet the match already seemed done.

With stoppage time looming, Liverpool had one final push.

Harvey Elliot, on for Szobozlai, together with Endo worked the ball out wide to Robertson, who curled a wicked cross into the box.

Recent entry, Jota rose highest, beating Gabriel in the air but his header smashed against the crossbar.

“Unbelievable!”

The ball bounced down, dangerously close to crossing the line.

Bodies flew in. Raya lunged, clawing it away before Diaz could tap it in.

The Arsenal players scrambled to clear.

Liverpool appealed for a goal—VAR check but the referee wasn’t convinced. Further more he hadn’t felt his watch vibrate.

No goal.

The Arsenal fans exploded into cheers.

“Arsenal survive by the skin of their teeth!” Drury gasped.

The final seconds ticked away—Liverpool pushing, Arsenal still resisting.

A last-ditch cross. Cleared by White.

A second attempt. Headed away by Rice.

“Liverpool throwing everything forward—”

WHISTLE.

“And that’s it!”

The game was over.

Arsenal had held on, winning 3-1 in a preseason classic.

Players collapsed onto the pitch, some from exhaustion, others from sheer disappointment.

Izan, wiping sweat off his forehead, exchanged a look with Trent, who just exhaled and shook his head, as if to say, What the hell are we supposed to do with you?

Liverpool’s players walked off frustrated, knowing they had chances to equalize.

Arsenal’s players walked off victorious, knowing they had survived a war.

The Arsenal fans in SoFi Stadium stood and applauded, knowing they had just witnessed something special.

“A match that had everything,” Drury summed up. “Goals, drama, fouls, and above all—a reminder that even in preseason, football at this level is played with everything on the line.”

Final Score: Arsenal 3-1 Liverpool.

And the biggest talking point?

“Izan Hernandez,” Dixon said. “Just how do you stop him?”

A/n: First of the day. Have fun reading and this will be the last one or two chapter(s) for the volume. I’ll start another volume with Izan in the Prem.

Have fun and keep reading. Also keep spamming the Golden ticket and I’m sorry in advance for any late updates.

I’m writing my end of Sem exams so excuse me for any late chapters. Anyways Bye.