Chapter 502: Chapter 130: Endless Ammunition! The North London Derby Strikes Again! Easy Lead! A King Descends from the Sky!

But seeing Ma’el and Rosicky standing at the free-kick spot together, their worries were eased.

In the end, both sides paid for this conflict with two yellow cards, Ma’el and Arteta for Arsenal, and Scott Parker and Modric for Tottenham.

This decision left Ma’el very dissatisfied, but with the yellow card already raised, there was nothing he could do except complain.

...

"How do we play?"

Before the free-kick, Rosicky extended his right hand towards the center while asking for Ma’el’s opinion.

With Ramsey out, he’s the team’s first choice for penalty kicks.

However, Wenger specifically instructed before the game that Tottenham’s goalkeeper Friedel wasn’t very good at catching aerial balls. If they could play a curved ball close to the goalkeeper, they could exploit his mistakes.

And if they wanted to take an outside curve from the left side, they had to use their left foot to play the ball.

Among the starting midfielders and forwards who fit this condition, aside from Van Persie, whose preferred foot is his left, only Ma’el was left.

His left foot could deliver nearly as effective kicks as his dominant foot.

"I’ll do it."

Ma’el stood perpendicular to the football, looked at the situation inside the penalty area, and indicated with his running angle that he would use his left foot to take an outside curve shot.

Rosicky nodded, believing in Ma’el, "Once you start your run-up, I’ll start moving; they definitely won’t guess you’re using your left foot to kick, they’ll think you’re just the decoy."

Ma’el nodded, continually observing the penalty area, considering where to direct the ball.

"Beep beep!"

The referee’s whistle sounded again, seemingly because the pushing and pulling inside the penalty area was too intense, requiring him to step in with a warning.

Inside the penalty area, Van Persie spread his hands out helplessly, complaining to him, "Scott Parker keeps pulling my shirt and stepping on my toes.

"One more time and I’m going to fall to the ground, then the problem will be yours - will you give him a yellow card and award us a penalty?"

The referee sternly warned Scott Parker, who innocently waved his hand, but once the referee turned away, he pulled on Van Persie’s shirt again.

Van Persie spread his hands once more, but this time, he accidentally caught Ma’el’s eye.

Looking into Ma’el’s eyes, he seemed to know that Ma’el should be the one to take the free kick.

His expression changed, glancing at the opposing goalkeeper, he seemed to have some idea of his positioning.

"Beep!"

The referee blew his whistle, focusing on the penalty area while signaling towards the wing that the free kick could be taken.

"Mark him, mark him!"

"Watch Van Persie!"

"Someone cover the back post Mertesacker! Don’t let him get moving!"

Tottenham players shouted chaotically, their expressions very serious.

"Thunk thunk..."

From the wing, Ma’el started his run-up, rushing towards the football as if to use his left foot for the kick, while Rosicky quickly ran from another direction, pretending to use his right foot.

Tottenham players in the penalty area hesitated, noticing that Ma’el was running faster, seemingly reaching the ball first.

But who uses their non-dominant foot for a free kick... this kick must be just a fake run-up, Rosicky is the real kicker.

Seeing Arsenal players already rushing past their defensive line, they stood still, believing this was also a fake run to disperse their defensive line backwards.

The opponents’ jumping players must have another movement to turn back and start again, all just old free kick tactics.

"Boom!!"

Just then, the football suddenly spun fiercely, curving over from the wing, whistling towards the vicinity of the small penalty area, and then curving outward.

Most Tottenham players immediately froze near the penalty spot, their defensive line tight but motionless.

Only a few were responsive enough to anticipate Ma’el’s free kick, moving towards the Arsenal players.

But this small portion couldn’t defend effectively; at least three Arsenal players had open space around them!

Tottenham could only pin their hopes on goalkeeper Friedel, hoping he could come out and catch the ball.

"Mine!" Friedel shouted, leaping out to try to catch the ball on the bounce.

Almost immediately realizing he couldn’t reach the ball, he pulled back his hands, changed his tone and words, looking towards behind him, "Back post!!"

Back post Tottenham player: "..."

Should I shout mine again and apologize to everyone?

"Boom!!"

At the back post, General Van Persie stomped the ground and jumped, making a back-head maneuver, sending the whistling football into the net.

It’s in!

One to zero!

"Oh.....!!"

Van Persie landed and put his hands on his head, waving mockingly at Scott Parker and Modric.

Of course, he’s smart enough to keep waving as he rushed towards Ma’el at the wing, like a plane whirling away from danger.

"Ah...!"

Ma’el had been waiting for him; the two excitedly jumped up, bumping chests to celebrate mid-air.

They then hugged each other, intentionally acting cocky, arrogantly striding towards the Tottenham fan section.

"Haha.....!"

Other celebrating Arsenal players quickly erupted in laughter, not disturbing the duo but following behind them, clapping hands.

Looking at their backs, it truly seemed like ’we’re the best in the world’.

...

"Yeah...!"

In the box, David tightly hugged his friends, celebrating the same way they always did.

Chloe didn’t restrain herself in front of acquaintances, her face flushed and stammering in excitement.