On the BBC Premier League Channel Two broadcast, the camera cut to the commentary booth—where Mike John was joined by three familiar faces: Thierry Henry, Patrick Vieira, and Michael Ballack.
The moment Walcott's volley hit the net, Henry and Vieira leapt to their feet almost in unison.
"Wow!!!" Henry threw his hands up, leaning back with that classic grin, clearly enjoying every second of it.
Vieira's eyes widened. "That's brilliant football!"
Mike John chuckled as the replay rolled. "Beautifully worked goal! Arsenal at their very best—quick, fluid, intelligent movement."
Henry couldn't help himself. " Kai's pass there was genius. Everyone expected him to go for a long-range strike—he sold it perfectly, and then just scooped it through. He fooled everyone on that pitch! And Walcott read it instantly. That's the connection between them."
Vieira nodded firmly. "I have been saying this for the longest time. People sleep on Kai's technical ability.. Because he's often tackling and intercepting, they think he's just a destroyer. But look at that pass—subtle, perfectly weighted."
Mike John turned toward Ballack, who had been quiet, arms folded, and a hint of frustration on his face. "Michael, your thoughts?"
Ballack exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "Fine. It was a great goal—credit where it's due. But Matic lost his man. He should have tracked Kai's forward movement. Rosicky's off-ball run pulled him out of position, and that opened the channel. Once Kai stepped up unmarked, everything fell apart for Chelsea."
When Mike asked whose contribution was more important, the panel found rare agreement—it was Walcott's.
Henry explained, "Kai's pass made it possible, but Walcott's timing made it happen. He read the play perfectly, burst forward, and finished with composure. He made that run count."
Vieira chuckled. "Typical striker—always giving the credit to the one who scores."
Henry laughed. "Hey, no offense, Pat. Just calling it as I see it."
...
Down on the touchline, Wenger was already celebrating, fists pumping toward the crowd.
For a moment, it was like the clock had turned back ten years—the Professor's eyes gleamed again with that old passion, the fire of the Invincibles era.
Arsenal's early lead was exactly what they needed. Against Chelsea, conceding first or being stalled by their defensive wall could easily turn into a nightmare. Breaking through was crucial. And they had done it.
Across the pitch, Mourinho stood motionless, a deep frown cutting across his face.
His gaze burned into his players—especially the midfield.
Mistakes. Sloppy marking. Complacency.
In Mourinho's eyes, those errors were unforgivable.
"Kai rarely pushes forward," he muttered under his breath. "And still, nobody tracks him."
He suddenly barked from the touchline, "Wake up! Mark your men!"
The goal had rattled Chelsea.
For a few moments, their energy dipped—but under Terry's fierce shouting, they regrouped quickly. Chelsea weren't about to crumble that easily.
After the celebrations, both sides reset. Arsenal looked fired up; Chelsea, tight-lipped and focused.
The Blues kicked off, eager to respond.
But Arsenal pressed immediately, swarming high up the pitch.
Kai urged caution, waving his arms, but his teammates were full of adrenaline, closing down every blue shirt in sight.
It was brave—but risky.
Sure enough, Chelsea suddenly found a gap.
Oscar slipped past Cazorla and quickly threaded a pass to Hazard on the wing.
Hazard darted forward, hugging the touchline. As Kai approached to close him down, Hazard smartly released the ball early, not giving him the chance to engage.
Kai turned and sprinted back.
Up front, Samuel Eto'o—still dangerous even at 33—brought the pass down with his thigh, cushioning it effortlessly. Despite a heavier frame and fading pace, his explosiveness and instinct remained sharp.
He flicked the ball with his left foot, bursting past the slower Mertesacker.
Koscielny rushed across, but he was a fraction too late.
Eto'o had already wound up for the strike.
"Danger here!" Martin Taylor's voice rose sharply.
Eto'o unleashed a thunderous shot—
Bang! Bang!
Two quick impacts—and the ball flew out of bounds!
"Kai!!!" Alan Smith shouted in surprise.
Replays showed it—Kai had launched himself in a last-ditch slide, blocking the shot cleanly with his shin just as Eto'o pulled the trigger.
The Emirates exhaled collectively.
Goalkeeper Szczęsny walked up and patted Kai on the shoulder. "Brilliant block!"
Kai got up, dusted himself off, and immediately yelled toward his teammates, "Hey! Calm down and get back in shape! No more gaps—mark properly!"
Cazorla and the others immediately looked a bit embarrassed.
After the goal, they had indeed gotten a bit carried away — pushing too far forward in their excitement.
Kai's sharp shout brought everyone back to their senses.
As Chelsea lined up for a corner, the now-composed Arsenal side stayed calm and organized. Mertesacker rose highest and headed the ball clear, straight to Cazorla.
Cazorla didn't rush forward. Instead, he held it up, glanced around, and waited for Kai to move into position before laying the ball off to him.
With no one closing him down, Kai took a moment to assess the field. He lifted his head, spotted Flamini on the left, and played a controlled pass his way. Flamini quickly relayed it to Cazorla again.
After a failed attempt to beat his man, Cazorla passed it back, allowing Arsenal to reset.
They slipped back into rhythm, controlling possession and dictating tempo.
Seeing this, Martin Taylor commented, "The Gunners have steadied themselves. Arsenal's still a young team, and with youth often comes impatience. They get caught up in the moment — the tempo rises too quickly, and the aggression follows. That's when you need someone to say, 'enough.' Kai's exactly that kind of player."
Alan Smith nodded in agreement. "He just turned twenty, but look at the composure he brings. That calmness — it's the backbone of this Arsenal side."
As Martin and Alan praised Kai, the Arsenal fans in the stands were quietly thrilled.
For them, anyone who spoke well of Kai was instantly a friend.
They adored him — for his strength, his courage, his intelligence, his humility, his decisiveness.
To the fans, Kai seemed flawless despite his lack of speed and finesse dribbling.
When you love a player, you see every virtue in high definition — and every flaw fades from view.
That was exactly how Arsenal fans felt about him.
By the 40th minute, Chelsea were starting to show signs of frustration.
Trailing in the first half was far from ideal, and they were eager to pull one back before halftime.
But Arsenal were now dictating the game's rhythm through their midfield. Chelsea's defensive counter-attacking plan had lost its bite.
It was like a spring — the more you compress it, the stronger it rebounds. But when Arsenal refused to press, Chelsea couldn't find any tension to release.
Oscar and the others chased hard, trying to force an opening, but Arsenal's midfield trio — with Rosický and Walcott dropping deeper — had the numbers and control.
When in doubt, they recycled possession, switched play, and kept Chelsea chasing shadows.
For now, the Blues found themselves in an increasingly passive position.
...
Please do leave a review and powerstones, helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon for free and subscribing to advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a