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Chapter 101: Seven Years
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 11:12:19 +0000 UTCThe 35th round of the Premier League came to a close, and Arsenal had to settle for a draw with Manchester United at Old Trafford.
Both sides shook hands at the final whistle, sharing the spoils and taking a point apiece.
This result didn’t change the title picture much — Arsenal failed to cut the gap at the top.
United remain league leaders with 82 points.
Arsenal: 24 wins, 6 draws, 5 losses — 78 points.
Manchester City: 22 wins, 8 draws, 5 losses — 74 points.
With just three rounds left, United held a slender advantage, but nothing is wrapped up yet.
More worryingly for United, their late-season form has been patchy — a problem they’ll need to address fast.
The title race remains wide open.
The Daily Mail even ran a striking illustration of a Red Devil, and a cannon, symbolising the tense and unpredictable battle for the Premier League crown.
It’s anyone’s to win — and the next three matches for each contender will be decisive.
...
North London
Medical Room, Arsenal Training Centre
At the training ground infirmary, team doctor Gary stood alongside manager Arsène Wenger and assistant coach Pat Rice, all three poring over a medical report with grim expressions.
Gary let out a long sigh.
“He’s played almost every match this season, but he’s still just 19. His muscles are severely fatigued, and his ligaments are under enormous strain. There’s a real risk of a tear — maybe even a rupture.”
Then he turned to Pat.
“I told you before, stop pushing him to just bulk up. He needs more flexibility training. Right now, his muscle strength is overwhelming his ligaments — they can’t cope. That imbalance is asking for trouble.”
Pat scratched his head defensively.
“I did have him on flexibility drills…”
Gary shook his head.
“Not enough. There’s still too big a gap between his muscle work and his elasticity. It’s like trying to tow a trailer with nothing but rubber bands. Something’s going to snap sooner or later.”
Wenger stayed quiet, deep in thought.
He knew Arsenal had leaned heavily on Kai this season — maybe too heavily — and at times, he simply had no alternative.
Especially during the winter, when the midfield was decimated, Kai was his only option.
After a moment, Wenger finally asked.
“How long can he keep going?”
Gary shrugged.
“Hard to say. He might get through the next three games. But it’s just as likely he breaks down in the next one. No one can guarantee it either way.”
Wenger’s gaze met Pat’s, and both men looked troubled.
Wenger’s mind was split. On one hand, the title was within reach, and Kai was crucial to that. On the other hand, forcing him through risked a serious injury that could derail his career.
Pat bit his lip and spoke up.
“We should ask him what he wants to do.”
In truth, Pat knew he was being selfish — his hunger for the title overshadowed his concern for the lad. He was willing to take the gamble.
Wenger stayed quiet, then gave a short nod.
...
An hour later, Kai arrived at Wenger’s office after hearing the news. He already had an idea what was coming — and it left him uneasy.
Wenger explained,
“This is your call. We’ll respect your decision either way. If you need to rest, no problem. No one here wants to risk your future. But if you play on, you need to understand — you could get hurt.”
Kai looked down at his ankle, flexing it slightly. He could already feel the faint, sharp twinge in his ligaments.
Then he raised his eyes to Wenger.
“If I do get injured… will the club stand by me?”
Wenger blinked.
“What do you mean?”
Kai held his gaze steady.
“If I need surgery, and I can’t come straight back at full level… I need a promise. That I’ll still get playing time to find my rhythm again.”
Wenger’s face hardened slightly.
“You understand, you could seriously hurt yourself. This could even end your career.”
Kai broke into a wry smile.
“No athlete goes through a career without injury. If you’re too scared to chase the championship because you might get hurt… you’ve already lost.”
Wenger exhaled slowly and nodded, finally saying,
“Fine. I promise. If you’re injured and need time to recover your form, I’ll give you at least a full season to get back to your best.”
Kai’s smile widened faintly.
“That’s all I need to hear. So… I’m starting the next game?”
Wenger gave a slow, deliberate nod.
“Yes. And don’t forget — you know what’s next.”
Kai’s eyes lit up, heat rising in his chest.
The next match.
The FA Cup Final.
The closest Arsenal had been to a trophy in seven long years.
At Wembley, against a powerhouse Manchester City side.
...
As the final drew nearer, the atmosphere around North London grew more electric by the day.
Crowds of Arsenal fans streamed toward the old Highbury ground, even though the match itself would be at Wembley.
Dressed in their colours, it was less a march than a pilgrimage — a nod to the home they still held so dear, just a few streets from the Emirates.
Some even dropped to their knees, kissing the hallowed Highbury turf as though willing its spirit to carry Arsenal through to glory.
They were desperate for a trophy. Starved of silverware.
And now, they were closer than they had been in years.
...
On Sky Sports TV, Martin Taylor & Alan Smith were rounding up on a brief discussion about Arsenal's journey
🎙 Martin Taylor:
"What a story this is shaping up to be, Alan. Arsenal, with one of the youngest squads in the league, is still hanging on in the title race — and now with an FA Cup Final just days away."
🎙 Alan Smith:
"Yes, and they’ve done it the hard way, too. They’ve relied on this lad Kai so much — he’s been a revelation in midfield. But you do worry about the toll it’s taking on him. That’s a lot of responsibility for a 19-year-old’s shoulders."
🎙 Martin Taylor:
"That’s right. But he’s shown incredible character. If he can keep himself fit, he could be the difference-maker for Arsenal in both competitions."
🎙 Alan Smith:
"Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Wembley awaits. And you just know these Arsenal fans are dreaming of ending that long wait for a trophy."
🎙 Martin Taylor:
"And what a scene that would be!"
...
Seven years.
Arsenal had gone seven years without a title. Each season seemed to hurt more than the last.
Their performances faltered, their confidence wavered — and for fans, it was agony.
Every year, they’d start brightly, only for the campaign to unravel. To some, it looked like the glory days of the Gunners were over.
But was it?
Not if you asked their fans.
Arsenal supporters still believed. They’d stood at the top of the game before, and their hunger for silverware never faded. They would cling to every chance, chase every opportunity, never letting go.
In a modest London flat, Michelle sat on the couch in his Arsenal jersey, eyes fixed on the TV with quiet excitement.
Tonight’s programme was Night of Champions. Arsène Wenger was due to appear for a live interview.
From the hallway came a clatter of footsteps. A six-year-old boy wearing an oversized Manchester City No.10 shirt dashed back and forth across the living room, chanting: “The championship belongs to Manchester City!”
Michelle glared. “Kenny! You really want to support the nouveau riche?”
His son Kenny spun, face defiant. “We are the champions! Premier League champions!”
Michelle tried to bring him towards the light. “Arsenal has won championships too, you know! Why not join us?”
Kenny pouted and crossed his arms. “I’ve never seen Arsenal win anything. You and Arsenal are old news!”
That stung — but deep down, Michelle knew he wasn’t wrong.
Kenny was born in 2007, at the start of Arsenal’s long drought. His generation had never seen the Gunners lift a major trophy. To him, there was nothing to connect with.
Michelle himself was a lifelong Arsenal man, raised that way by his father. He’d hoped to pass on the tradition to his son, but watching Kenny parade around in sky blue, it was clear he’d failed.
With a sigh, Michelle sank back into the sofa and tried to ignore him. On the screen, the show’s host finally introduced Wenger.
The Arsenal manager appeared, sharp in his trademark black suit, though the years had left their mark. He looked older now, and Michelle couldn’t help thinking how quickly time passed.
On set, Wenger faced the cameras, his tone reflective.
“The match I regret most? The Champions League Final in 2006. We beat Real Madrid and Juventus without conceding a goal. But early in the final, we were down to ten men. That remains my biggest regret — not being able to deliver the Champions League for that generation. They deserved it. But we have to accept what happened.”
Michelle felt the bitterness return. He remembered the crushing despair of Lehmann’s red card in Paris.
Wenger continued.
“Since then, we’ve spent years searching. Searching for the right path back to the championship. And yes — we lost precious time. We made mistakes.”
“But thankfully… that’s over.”
Wenger exhaled, a faint smile crossing his face.
“We’re on the right track now. In the past, people said we were always missing something. Nobody could say what. But now… I’m convinced we’ve found it.”
His eyes glinted as he leaned into the camera.
“The key factor to winning.”
“So I invite all Arsenal fans to Wembley. Let’s put this seven-year wait behind us — and wear the crown that’s long overdue. Together.”
Michelle couldn’t help but smile, even as Kenny continued his chants in the background.
