Football: Arsenal - Chapter 12: The Match Is Over! We're Champions! (Patreon)

Nobody was thinking about how Juventus felt anymore.

And the Juventus players themselves seemed to have run out of feelings. To say they were devastated would scarcely begin to describe it.

With a four-goal advantage in their hands, who could ever have imagined a comeback?

Not when the match began. Not at halftime. And certainly not when only fifteen minutes of normal time remained.

Yet a teenage substitute had somehow done the unthinkable. It was so absurd that the Juventus players wondered whether they were dreaming.

To concede a last-minute winner after surrendering such a lead was a devastating blow. It had crushed their confidence and whatever fighting spirit they had left.

The only reason they were still on their feet instead of collapsing in misery was that the match had not quite ended.

The players had lost all hope. Their manager, Conte, had not.

He refused to accept that his team could be beaten this way!

“What are you doing out there?” he roared from the touchline. “Are you asleep? Wake up! There's still time! We've got stoppage time! Get out there and SCORE!”

Conte had no intention of becoming an anonymous figure in the story of Wenger and his young protégé.

If Arsenal could find a winner in the dying minutes, why couldn't Juventus? Nobody could declare a victor until the final whistle!

He marched over to the fourth official to complain.

Arsenal were celebrating far too long, he argued. Even Wenger had run out to join his players.

“Referee, what do they think they're doing? Do they believe they've already won? Isn't this time-wasting? It's unfair to Juventus!”

After that impassioned complaint, the fourth official could no longer stand watching the celebrations. He hurried over to the referee to pass on Conte's objections.

The referee, too, had to pull himself out of the excitement.

Having followed the action all over the pitch, he'd enjoyed the closest possible view of Kieran's five goals. Even he had been caught up in the exhilaration.

But his professional composure returned quickly. He blew his whistle, brought the players back under control, and sent Wenger to the Arsenal bench.

Peeep! Peeep!

There was still football to be played.

Normal time had already expired, with Arsenal's celebrations eating up a considerable stretch of it. The referee therefore allowed a little more stoppage time than usual.

Seven full minutes.

Seven minutes of added time was an unusually generous allowance for a Champions League match. Suddenly, the outcome seemed uncertain again.

For neutral viewers, that only made the spectacle better. Supporters with no stake in Arsenal or Juventus were enjoying every second.

Five goals had arrived in thirteen minutes. Who could say what might happen in seven more?

Would Juventus recover their pride and score? Or could Arsenal protect their narrow lead and secure passage to the next round?

Juventus restarted, and the tempo immediately rose.

With only a few minutes left, they could no longer sit deep or focus on defending. It was time to throw everything into attack!

During the stoppage, Conte had made two substitutions, using every remaining change. Two more attack-minded forwards came on, while two defensive players made way.

The duties of center-backs Chiellini and Bonucci changed as well. Rather than concentrate on defending, they began launching long balls straight into midfield and the forward line.

Pirlo, who had been drawn into defensive work during Arsenal's earlier goals, now assumed his customary role as Juventus's orchestrator.

He saw far more of the ball and began directing attack after attack. The pressure from Juventus rose sharply, with long passes flying across the pitch in every direction.

Most of that firepower accomplished little, however, and the forwards grew increasingly desperate.

Arsenal, meanwhile, were not about to surrender possession and retreat en masse. Wenger had never liked choosing that approach voluntarily.

Against any opposition, his philosophy was to pass the ball and play out of pressure. Only in exceptional circumstances, such as being a man down, would he reluctantly order his side to defend deep and park the bus for a while.

Nothing that had happened in this match convinced him that such a retreat was necessary.

He had his own philosophy and his own pride. He would rather lose while playing beautiful football than abandon those principles.

His instruction now was simple: press high, win the ball, and keep it.

The result was a thrilling contest. Arsenal descended on Juventus like tigers, chasing and pressing furiously in their half.

Juventus had sacrificed defensive strength to add attackers, and their offensive pressure became relentless. For moments at a time, it seemed as though the match were tilting entirely in their favor.

But their weakened defense and fragile confidence brought mistake after mistake. Arsenal's ferocious press was almost more than they could handle.

There was one thing Juventus still prioritized above all else: stopping Kieran.

After each center-back released the ball, whatever defensive attention he could spare was immediately devoted to marking the teenager who had already scored five times.

That only left their overstretched back line thinner still.

In the fourth minute of stoppage time, a long ball from deep in Juventus territory was intercepted by a header from the tireless Ramsey.

With Arsenal ahead, Juventus could scarcely afford to give them possession. Once the Gunners had the ball, they could keep it moving until the final whistle.

Ramsey remained unhurried despite the Juventus players bearing down on him. Before they could surround him, he released a first-time pass to Cazorla in the attacking midfield position.

Cazorla controlled the ball, dribbled past pressure, and played it to Arteta.

There was no defender close to Arteta, so he took his touch and waited. Only when the Juventus players swarmed toward him did he pass the ball to Koscielny.

Koscielny acted as the link, returning possession to Ramsey.

Again and again, Juventus players were dragged this way and that, helplessly chasing a ball they could never quite reach. Their bodies were exhausted, and their minds even more so.

By the end of it, the last scraps of their morale had disappeared.

Arsenal kept the ball moving until all seven minutes were gone.

Peeep! Peeep! Peeeeep!

Three sharp, decisive blasts of the whistle ended the match.

Juventus had failed to claw back a goal. Arsenal had completed their comeback from the brink!

With an enormous roar, Emirates Stadium became a surging ocean of red and white.

Everywhere, supporters leaped into the air. Some waved flags. Others pulled off red-and-white scarves and jackets and swung them wildly overhead.

Some were so overcome that they flung popcorn and crisps into the air, showering the people around them. Nobody who got covered in food seemed to mind in the slightest.

And countless more raised their fists and belted out the Arsenal song.

“Good old Arsenal, we're proud to say that name.”

“And while we sing this song, we'll win the game.”

They really had won!

An outcome that no one had dared imagine was now reality.

“Kieran! King! King! King!”

The supporters hadn't forgotten who to thank. Everyone knew who deserved the greatest credit for the victory.

Kieran had almost single-handedly led an Arsenal side short of attacking leaders to a remarkable triumph.

As Dan Roberts put it in an ecstatic voice, “Kieran made Juventus's star-studded back line look ordinary!”

Martin and Jamie, the two Sky Sports commentators, shouted together, “It's over! The match is over!”

Martin continued, “Arsenal have held on! Congratulations to the Gunners, who are through to the Champions League quarterfinals! Listen to those supporters. They're chanting Kieran's name and calling him their king.”

“One match has given Arsenal an answer to their attacking problems, and it has given the supporters a new king.”

Jamie added, “Ladies and gentlemen, we may be watching the birth of football's next great superstar! We're witnessing history!”

In the commentary booth Clive Tyldesley's voice trembled with emotion.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the match is over, but it will be a long time before the feelings it stirred in me settle down.”

“Over those final twenty minutes I've marveled at Kieran and praised him more times than I can count. Now that it's over, I simply want to thank him.”

“Thank him for giving us such an extraordinary contest. And thank him for showing, on the Champions League stage, that a young player can shine at the highest international level with the right training.”

“The road ahead is long, and it won't be easy. One extraordinary match is only the beginning. What matters now is the work he puts in, day after day, season after season.

“As we look forward to watching young Kieran develop, let's enjoy what he's given us tonight and see how far his talent and determination can take him.”