Chapter 189: The Gunners: High Hopes, Low Performance

Chapter 189: The Gunners: High Hopes, Low Performance The second half kicked off, and Aldrich stood resolutely on the sidelines, still directing the game. Although they had a one-goal lead, this was often a precarious position.

On the South Stand, the fans were singing and dancing, the loyal supporters of the Lions had stopped fearing Arsenal altogether.

Indeed, Millwall was currently an unstoppable force. The team was packed with talent, each player a skilled star in their own right. In the eyes of the fans, every player on the field had ample reason to become a legend for the Lions, as long as they stayed in the club!

As for Teddy Sheringham, who had been fondly remembered a few years ago, many of the newer fans who had just begun to follow the Lions would often ask, "Who's that?"

They couldn't connect the former Tottenham striker with Millwall.

It seemed that even if Sheringham returned to Millwall, he would hardly fit into the starting lineup.

It was unclear what adjustments Wenger had made during halftime, but Arsenal increased their attacking presence down the center as the second half began. Vieira's position in the attack was a testament to this shift.

Aldrich watched from the sidelines, observing Vieira's commanding demeanor and precise passing. He couldn't help but admire the Frenchman, though he didn't feel any particular sense of regret in his heart. seaʀᴄh thё NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Vieira had potential and had displayed significant ability early on, but it would truly be a waste for him to stay at Millwall, as there was no place for him; he could only be a substitute.

Aldrich had contemplated this decision carefully. While Vieira had organizational skills, there was still a gap compared to Pirlo. Partnering him with Makelele would create a top-notch defense, but their creativity in attack would be lacking. Aldrich felt confident enough with Makelele's defensive prowess that he didn't see the need for additional security. If they were playing in an international tournament, a defensively oriented formation could work, much like the French national team a decade later; however, the creative spark had to come from Zidane.

Aldrich was pleased that Vieira had a platform to express himself at Arsenal, convinced that Wenger would make the most of his abilities.

As Arsenal ramped up their central attacks, Millwall settled down considerably. Their offensive pressure was less intense, but they significantly improved their control.

Their attacks began to tilt to the right. Pirlo frequently directed play towards the right flank, where Schneider, Shevchenko, and Nedved focused their efforts, putting Winterburn in a tough spot.

Shevchenko received the ball and assisted by passing to Nedved before turning to run toward the goal. Winterburn had to provide support, compressing the space in the box. Under pressure from Pratt's defense, Nedved calmly passed the ball back to the right flank. Shevchenko cut in to draw defensive attention, creating space immediately for Schneider, who surged up the side and delivered a high-quality cross.

Shevchenko didn't even jump at the near post—it was clear he couldn't reach it. Instead, he positioned himself to seize the opportunity for a second attack.

Trezeguet and Adams jumped in front of the goal, but both failed to make contact with the ball. As it fell towards the back post, Bould was marking Larsson. Both players started to run along the same line, but Larsson was too quick. By the time the ball descended, Larsson had already edged in front, leaping to meet the ball with a powerful header.

Seaman could only watch in despair as the ball rocketed into the net. He took a couple of steps back, helplessly placing his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

"Larsson scores again! A beautiful assist from Schneider, this marks Larsson's 22nd league goal of the season, leading the scoring charts ahead of Shearer by a good margin. It looks undeniable that this season's Premier League Golden Boot will be taken by someone from Millwall. Trezeguet and Shevchenko trail by six and seven goals respectively. Millwall's attacking trio has already netted 53 goals in the league, and with several rounds left, will Larsson challenge for the title of Europe's top scorer? This 25-year-old is carrying on from last season's great form, showing off his skills as a top striker under Hall. Whether with his head or feet, he finds the net with ease—truly a forward that every team dreams of having!"

Aldrich was enthusiastically clapping from the sidelines, and the other coaches were equally excited. Babou even ran over to Aldrich and shouted, "Give him more chances, let's break that scoring record in the Premier League!"

Aldrich didn't respond, but thought for a moment that the pressure of the league was lessened. It might be possible to let his players create more scoring opportunities for Larsson and tilt the tactics accordingly. However, he made no promises, keeping this thought to himself for now.

The top league scoring record was almost untouched, having stood for nearly seventy years. A bygone Everton player had once reached 60 league goals—a European record likely to remain forever.

As Arsenal fell two goals behind, Wenger began to shuffle his lineup, bringing on Pires and pulling off the veteran Bould, seeking a more balanced formation.

When Pires entered the field, a wave of boos echoed through the stadium, but that was the extent of it. Once he got on the ball, the fans barely bothered to boo him further.

He and Vieira had submitted written requests to transfer, an act of open defiance against the club that fans simply could not forgive. Yet now, the fans were more inclined to mock.

"You think our Lions are a small temple? Go on and hug your Arsenal! This season, we're going to take you down twice!"

With Pires on the pitch, Arsenal shifted to a 4-2-3-1 formation, attempting to create offensive pressure with their wingers and the half-striker Bergkamp. But they couldn't find the desired results.

Nedved pressured Vieira and Pratt while defending, pressing hard. He could pass but wasn't strong at evading defenders. The burden of linking the midfield fell on his shoulders. During a miscontrolled touch, he was intercepted from behind by Trezeguet, who quickly fed the ball to the nearest Nedved.

After receiving the ball, the Czech player made a return pass, sending the ball back to Pirlo.

After losing the ball, Vieira became a bit frazzled, rushing in to pressure Pirlo. When he finally spotted Pirlo in front of him, he felt a sinking feeling.

Behind him!

Realizing the issue too late, he saw Pirlo's pass zipping by just three meters away.

Nedved positioned himself to receive the ball, creating space as he did so. With a quick pivot, he faced Pratt, who was coming in for a tackle. Nedved ignited his speed, using his explosive power to leave Pratt behind as he advanced towards Arsenal's defense.

The entire back line braced itself, with Larsson cutting inside, Trezeguet at the forefront marked by Adams, while Shevchenko feigned a diagonal run but paused midway, fooling Keown.

In that instant, Nedved passed to Shevchenko and dashed forward himself. Shevchenko deftly nudged the ball into the box. Unmarked, Nedved, after a one-two combination, found himself one-on-one with the keeper and smashed the ball low into the near corner of the net.

"Goal number three! Vieira's mistake has handed Millwall a definitive victory. They executed a classic counter-attack goal, with a rapid exchange between Trezeguet, Nedved, Pirlo, and Shevchenko that was simply mesmerizing. Nedved's goal marks his 10th of the league, continuing the stellar show by Millwall's magical quartet. Just as Andy praised Pirlo, I believe it's only right to add Pirlo's name to that magical list. Despite merely four league assists this season, his influence is abundantly clear!"

With just over twenty minutes left in the game, Millwall led by three goals. Arsenal began to show signs of collapse. Wenger stood up with a serious demeanor; he couldn't allow his team, which had finally stabilized, to crumble completely or they would be in dire straits for the remaining fixtures.

He could only gesture to his players to stabilize their defense and play for counter-attacks, but what good was that when they were three goals down?

Pratt was injured in a tussle, and as the medical staff entered the field, Aldrich took the opportunity to call Pirlo over.

"How are you feeling?"

Pirlo looked bewildered and responded, "What do you mean?"

"Is the pressure in midfield too much?"

"Not really, no one's really targeting me."

With Nedved pressing down on Vieira and Pratt ahead, Pirlo found his position comparatively easy. Even against Mason, Pirlo could toy with him as long as he coordinated with Makelele; he was quite comfortable.

Aldrich advised him, "Expand your movement. After passing forward, push up."

There was no need for further explanation; Pirlo understood what to do. He had clearly become more astute in his play, knowing how to focus on his strengths. He wasn't great at dribbling past players but could effectively move the team forward with short passes. He wasn't adept in the box, so he practiced set pieces and long-range shots, both of which could pose a direct threat to the goal.

After receiving his orders, Pirlo returned to the field.

Pratt wasn't seriously hurt and adjusted before re-entering the match.

The dynamics for Arsenal had been in decline. They had begun the match matching Millwall, only to drop after Millwall's initial goal in the first half. It felt as if they had been blindsided by a heavy punch and had yet to recover.

Of course, this had to do with Keown's yellow card as well as the fatigue of players like Pratt and Mason.

Millwall players' excellent stamina always shone in the latter part of the match.

At this stage, Arsenal pulled everyone back to avoid a total rout, but Millwall seemed to be gaining momentum.

Three offensive players clustered in the penalty area, creating a congested environment. Capdevila came charging in from the side, sweeping the ball across the box. Although it looked like Nedved had it under pressure from Vieira, he astutely let the ball pass right through his feet.

Vieira stared in disbelief, turning around in shock, only to see a figure arriving right on cue, lifting his foot for a perfectly executed long-range shot.

The ball soared through the air without any spin, its trajectory oddly floating—not dramatically, but enough to be noticed.

Seaman, obstructed by the crowded scene, was caught off guard by the sudden strike. By the time he spotted the ball, it was already zipping past the inside of the right post and into the net.

"Pirlo scores! This is his first league goal of the season. The young lad deserves this and perhaps we've just been too long awaiting his arrival on the score sheet. Andy, what would you like to say to him?"

"This world-class strike is as unforgettable as his performances for Millwall. This goal is a reward for his hard work. I've always believed his role in the Millwall squad is as crucial as any of the players ahead of him. However, many experts disagree. I hope this young Italian can silence them. They clearly don't understand."

After scoring, Pirlo excitedly sprinted to the sidelines and yelled towards the stands.

He had truly waited far too long for this goal. No matter what, he'd finally got it, giving him the confidence to face future challenges.

His teammates rushed to congratulate him, and after settling a bit, Pirlo jogged over to the coaching staff and embraced Aldrich.

"Thank you, boss."

"A thank you for what? This is just the beginning! Listen, Andrea, this doesn't even count as an opening. If you're satisfied, then I've really misjudged you!"

A smile broke out on Pirlo's youthful face, and Aldrich playfully pushed him back onto the pitch, both of them sporting broad grins.