God Of football

Chapter 383 383: War In A Coliseum



[English Pundit Session]

Jon Champion:

"Good evening and welcome to Los Angeles, where Arsenal and Liverpool meet under the bright lights of SoFi Stadium in what is—officially—a pre-season fixture, but let's be honest, there's nothing 'friendly' about this one.

Two giants of English football, both eager to fine-tune their squads ahead of the new campaign, and plenty of intrigue surrounding new faces, returning stars, and tactical adjustments."

Gary Neville:

"Yeah, Jon, you say 'friendly,' but I've been on the pitch for these types of games before, and trust me, when the whistle blows, no one is thinking about easing up.

And with a player like Izan stepping into the Arsenal team, you just know Liverpool's defenders will want to leave a little reminder that the Premier League is a different beast."

Champion:

"And why wouldn't they? The Spanish wonderkid arrives with huge expectations, a massive transfer fee, and a spotlight following his every move.

But he's not the only story tonight—Liverpool are entering the post-Klopp era under Arne Slot, and we'll get our first real look at how his team is shaping up."

"Let's take a look at the teams, starting with Arsenal." Champion continued.

Arsenal XI:

David Raya (GK), Ben White, William Saliba, Gabriel Magalhães, Oleksandr Zinchenko, Declan Rice, Martin Ødegaard (C), Izan, Bukayo Saka, Gabriel Martinelli, Kai Havertz.

Neville

"That's a strong side. No real surprises—Arteta's keeping things familiar as they build chemistry.

The front three is exciting: Martinelli, Saka, and Havertz. The pace, the movement… if they click, they'll be a nightmare to defend against."

Champion:

"And a solid midfield behind them. Rice anchoring, Ødegaard pulling the strings, and Izan drifting into those advanced spaces but also not limited to combining with Martin or Rice. Now, let's look at Liverpool.".

Liverpool XI:

Alisson (GK), Trent Alexander-Arnold, Ibrahima Konaté, Virgil van Dijk (C), Andy Robertson, Alexis Mac Allister, Dominik Szoboszlai, Ryan Gravenberch, Mohamed Salah, Luis Díaz, Cody Gakpo.

Neville

"You look at that team and it still screams 'Liverpool,' doesn't it? The full-backs pushing forward, the intensity in midfield, and then that front three—Salah, Díaz, and Gakpo—it's dangerous.

The biggest question is how they'll look under Slot's approach. Will it be more controlled, or will they still have that chaotic energy Klopp's teams thrived on?"

"Well that's Neville's take on that and for those of you tuning in on this broadcast, you're in safe hands.

If you're… elsewhere, well, we do hope you're enjoying the tactical insight of 'wow, that was a great kick.'" Jon Champion said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I did catch a bit of their last match. Apparently, every pass over ten yards is now a 'laser-guided missile.'

Makes me wonder what they'd call an actual good pass." Neville indulged Champion.

"Probably something along the lines of 'that's a touchdown pass… in soccer terms.'" Jon Champion interrupted.

"Look Jon, credit to them, they're trying to grow the game, but sometimes… well, sometimes it's nice to just hear the game for what it is."

"And what it is tonight, is a proper battle between two English giants. What a match but our part is done. Handing over to Peter and Dixon now in Los Angeles" Jon Champion said after taking over from Neville.

...…..

Inside the tunnel, the air was thick with tension. It wasn't spoken, but it was felt—something beyond a preseason friendly, beyond just another match.

Arsenal and Liverpool weren't direct rivals, but here, in the heart of Los Angeles, with a packed SoFi Stadium roaring above, it might as well have been war.

Izan adjusted the sleeves of his jersey as he stood near the front of the line, just behind Martin Ødegaard.

Around him, his teammates were locked in, faces set, eyes focused ahead. Across from them, Liverpool's players stood in their own formation, a quiet storm brewing beneath their composed exteriors.

Van Dijk, towering like a sentinel, rolled his shoulders while Trent exchanged a glance with Szoboszlai who stood, cracking his neck.

Salah stood at the back, expression unreadable, but his stance was tense.

The tunnel lights flickered and soon, the official signaled.

Time.

The moment their boots hit the turf, the stadium erupted.

A deafening wave of sound crashed down, rolling over them in waves.

Arsenal's red flared from one side of the stands, banners waving high, chants bellowing out in thick London accents.

Liverpool's traveling faithful answered, their voices raw, scarves held aloft as they drowned out any illusion of this being a neutral venue.

The American fans, mixed between the two factions, added their wild energy, filming every second, waving shirts, screaming.

But the heart of it all was in the way they reacted to the players.

For Arsenal, they roared for Izan. The boy who had commanded Europe's attention.

The signing they had spent fortunes on, the one expected to tip the scales in their title charge.

Every step he took, every stretch, every slight movement—it sent ripples through their section, anticipation boiling over.

For Liverpool, he was the villain.

Boos followed his name on the screen, jeers raining down when he turned toward their section.

They weren't just here to support their own—they wanted him to fall.

Izan breathed it in. He welcomed it. He felt what they could. FEAR. FEAR that he might be the one to change the direction of things in this match.

Although they saw him as a child, he knew they were afraid considering what they knew he was capable of.

"Saka, mate, look at this place," Zinchenko muttered as they lined up.

Saka grinned. "Told you. This ain't preseason anymore."

As the players spread out for the final moments before kickoff, the cameras zoomed in, and the broadcast team took over.

Peter Drury: "And here we are, in the sun-drenched coliseum of Los Angeles, where an English spectacle takes center stage.

Arsenal and Liverpool—two titans of English football, separated by history but united in ambition—prepare to ignite the SoFi Stadium.

The crowd tells the story better than we ever could. Red against red, passion against pride.

And in the middle of it all… one of the most anticipated signings in recent years. The boy they call Izan."

Lee Dixon (Co-Commentator) "And look at how they're reacting to him. Arsenal fans treating him like the savior, and Liverpool fans treating him like the devil.

It's brilliant. He hasn't kicked a ball yet, and he's already rattled half the stadium.

Exactly what you'd expect from a player of his growing stature. And let's be honest, if you're an Arsenal supporter, this is the kind of atmosphere you'd love to see in a so-called preseason game.

It's no secret that Arsenal are banking on him. And tonight, under the lights of LA, the world watches."

Peter Drury: "Indeed. Meanwhile, our friends on the American broadcast might be giving you a more… measured breakdown of tactics and hydration levels, but over here, we like to feel the fire before it burns us."

Lee Dixon: "Which, funnily enough, might be what some of these players are planning to do to each other tonight..."

After all the pre-match rituals were done with, the referee took one last glance at his watch, then raised his arm,

Fweeeeeeeeeeee

And then—kick-off.

The ball was played back to Van Dijk, who immediately pinged it wide to Trent.

Arsenal's press snapped into action, Martinelli and Ødegaard closing space quickly.

Trent hesitated a second too long—Ødegaard's outstretched leg nearly clipped the ball.

The warning shot was sent.

Liverpool responded in kind. The ball was switched to Robertson, who immediately launched it forward toward Salah.

Zinchenko went shoulder to shoulder, winning the duel, but the intensity was clear.

This wasn't slow. This wasn't friendly. Salina who now had the ball, looked up and saw the Liverpool team coming at him like moths attracted to flames. Like Arrows sent at an enemy.

Izan saw this and shifted into gear before moving deep into space where the ball cycled toward him.

The first touch had to be sharp. He took a step, let it roll across his body, and in an instant, Mac Allister lunged in—hard.

Izan twisted, skipping past, but Mac Allister's momentum sent him stumbling.

The Liverpool fans cheered. The Arsenal fans roared for a foul but the ref waved play on.

Saka picked up the loose ball and carried it forward, but Izan didn't forget. As play shifted, he locked eyes with Mac Allister, who smirked.

Alright then.

Saka getting to the byline shifted his weight onto his right tricking Robertson who had caught up into thinking a cross was up but Saka cut back and slipped the ball to Izan who had gotten away from Mac Allister.

The Argentine bolted towards Izan like a moving horror but Izan nudged the ball between his legs, sending waves through the crowd who were there for every bit of his show-boating.

"Lovely turn by Izan and Oh, that nutmeg was horrendous" Peter called as Izan tried entering the penalty box but he was soon swarmed by Van Dijk and Gravenberch.

Looking at the two towering Giants, Izan moved unfazed, twisting left before sending it right, then sending it back left again causing a gap to open up between the two.

Izan glanced up.

Saw spaced.

He liked it.

So he moved but before he could go, Van Dijk subtly dragged him back causing him to fall thinking he had gotten away but the whistle blew sharply.

The Arsenal faithful were livid as they called out for a card punishment for Van Dijk but the Dutchman got away with a warning.

"Welcome to Premier League Pre-season 'Muchacho'" Andy Robertson said, laughing the last part out.

Izan on the ground smiled angelically before getting up. Robertson who glanced at him saw his smile and wondered why that was plastered on Izan's face.

He looked beside him and saw Van Dijk smiling wryly as the referee set up the wall.

Then it hit him, Arne Slots's words before the match ringing in his ear.

"Tackle him before he gets near our goal. Do the opposite of that and you've given Arsenal a penalty"

"Fuc-

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