Chapter 485: Chapter 128: A Magnificent Goal! The Tireless Ma’el! There’s a Ghost on the Left Wing! Over the Mountains!

"Alright, alright...!" The assistant coaches of both teams were long accustomed to the two’s bickering and hurriedly stepped in to separate them.

The commotion on-site grew louder, with not just Arsenal fans but Manchester United fans as well; both sides were attempting to create chaos to affect the other team.

"The confrontation between Rooney and Szczeny, the argument between Wenger and Ferguson, these are all snapshots of the current scene on the pitch!"

In the broadcast room, Zhan Jun observed the chaotic situation and shared his thoughts, "The Manchester United players are becoming increasingly anxious. Their offensive firepower in the league is second only to Arsenal, and they’ve been controlling the ball throughout today."

"And yet, not a single goal has been scored, and they’re trailing by zero to one. If this score ends as it is, Arsenal will widen their gap with them!"

"Ma’el’s goal is still increasing in value! This can’t be done without his own effort!"

"As for Wenger and Ferguson, both of them must be feeling extremely tense right now, hoping for anything favorable for their respective teams to happen, as it would mean a greater chance of victory!"

...

"One to zero... One to zero...! We will continue to remain unbeaten, Manchester United can only watch our shadow getting further away...!"

As the game surpassed 75 minutes, the home fans of Arsenal cheered louder, with many fans even wrapping their arms around each other and jumping up and down, "Where’s Rooney? Where’s Valencia? Where’s Evra...?!"

Listening to the mocking chants, the Manchester United fans were both angry and anxious, their faces pale as they gritted their teeth at the field but were helpless.

If they lose this match, the team would be 4 points behind Arsenal and tied with Manchester City.

More critically, if Arsenal clear them on the path to the championship and remain unbeaten... you can imagine how much confidence and fighting spirit this team will have to restore their early season form.

"What’s the count now?"

Ferguson’s face grew redder as he walked toward the data analyst. After asking once and seeing no reaction, he could only shout, "What’s the count now?!"

"Huh?" The data analyst was startled, quickly asking, "What count?"

"Ma’el’s running stats!"

"Oh oh... let me see." The data analyst pulled the data from the software, and after a glance, his eyes widened in shock, "14042 meters, high-intensity running 1738 meters, both numbers top the Premier League this season."

Ferguson vigorously chewed the gum in his mouth, as if channeling all his unwillingness and anger into his teeth, venting his stress through the intense chewing.

"Thud!"

He turned around and saw Ma’el swiftly advancing in an attack, receiving a direct pass from Gibbs.

Manchester United’s defense line instantly grew tense, everyone lowered their heads to chase back, but including Giggs and Valencia, their legs evidently had little strength left.

Fortunately, Phil Jones was sealing the inside line quite well, forcing Ma’el to carry the ball towards the baseline, finally delivering a crossing ball.

"Bang!!"

In the middle, Van Persie dove for a header, smashing the ball towards the net.

"Clap!" But De Gea reacted swiftly, pushing out his hand at close range to block the ball, then followed up with a second reaction to cradle it.

"Ah...!" The sighs of regret arose in the Arsenal fan area, Van Persie looked incredulously, kneeling on the spot and rubbing his face.

"Bang!"

De Gea then launched a quick hand-throw counterattack, tossing the ball to Valencia who had just chased back past half-field.

As the ball flew towards Valencia, Ma’el also sprinted towards him, and by the time Valencia got the ball, he could already hear Ma’el’s footsteps thudding behind him like hell’s bells.

"Thud thud..."

He touched the ball weakly twice, feeling his legs somewhat unable to muster strength.

This wasn’t a sign of lacking physical ability; as an offensive wing-back, Valencia’s capability to sprint up and down was commendable; otherwise, he wouldn’t be a world-class player in this position.

He didn’t defend much this match, focusing mostly on attack, with a total running roughly around 11,000 meters, which he could endure.

The key reason was a sense of despair, knowing even with a faster sprint, the devil behind him would still catch up.

Even if he advanced to the frontfield, Ma’el would follow through, completing the defense alongside Gibbs and Arteta.

"Slap!"

Ma’el soon approached from the back side, slipping the ball away from under his feet.

He walked numbly toward the sideline, taking the ball from a ball boy to prepare for a throw-in.

"Ma’el! Ma’el!"

On the side of the pitch, Wenger stood with Henry, waving and shouting at Ma’el, "Do you need a substitution?!"

Ma’el felt the acid keep secreting in his mouth, his throat seemed unable to produce sound, gritting his teeth to adjust his breathing while gesturing to the sideline that he didn’t need it, and along the way, he completed a defensive positioning, arriving in front of Gibbs.

Looking at Ma’el’s gestures, Valencia with a soccer ball in hand stood at the sideline feeling a sense of helplessness.

If he could, he’d throw the ball to the opposite sideline and start the attack from the left flank.

He finally tossed the ball to Nani, only for Gibbs to intercept with a front tackle.

"Boom!"

Gibbs held the ball decisively, directly pushing it to the space in front of Ma’el.

"Thud thud thud!"

Ma’el turned and accelerated again, while Valencia rolled his eyes but stepped forward with grit, glancing at Sir Ferguson as he passed.