Chapter 127: Premier League kicks off
As the new Premier League season loomed just around the corner, the media machine kicked into overdrive. Every sports show, tabloid column, and football podcast buzzed with predictions. Debates flared up about who would win the title, who would fall short, and who might surprise everyone. And this year, the conversation had taken a new shape.
The traditional "Big Four" had been unofficially upgraded to a "Big Five." And the reason? Leeds United.
Arthur's Leeds had broken into the elite, and their meteoric rise had shaken up the balance of power in English football. What was once a clear-cut quartet—Chelsea, Manchester United, Arsenal, and Liverpool—now had an unexpected but undeniable fifth member.
Still, despite Leeds' growth, most analysts didn't hesitate to name Chelsea as the strongest contender for the title. And it wasn't hard to see why. Back-to-back Premier League champions, led by the ever-calm José Mourinho, Chelsea had only grown stronger. This summer they added two massive names: Andriy Shevchenko and Michael Ballack. With an already loaded squad, the media expected Chelsea not just to dominate the league again, but finally push for that elusive Champions League trophy.
Second in the pecking order was Sir Alex Ferguson's Manchester United. Though they had sold Ruud van Nistelrooy, United weren't slowing down. Ferguson brought in Dimitar Berbatov—ironically from Leeds—and Michael Carrick from Spurs to bolster the midfield. Most pundits believed United had the quality and experience to challenge Chelsea all the way.
And then came the next tier—Liverpool, Arsenal, and Leeds United.
For these three, expectations were mixed. Many believed a top-four finish would be a fine achievement. But the scrutiny on Leeds was particularly intense. After all, Arthur had made some bold moves this summer—selling both Radamel Falcao and Berbatov raised eyebrows across the football world.
Sure, the opening match against Maccabi Haifa ended in a 4–0 win and featured promising debuts from Torres and Ibrahimovic. But as critics quickly pointed out, Haifa was hardly a top-tier club. "Let's see how they do against real Premier League opposition," was the general sentiment.
Liverpool, meanwhile, had also been busy in the transfer market. They brought in Dutch striker Dirk Kuyt from Feyenoord, and James Milner returned from Leeds. But they had also lost Morientes and Cissé, making their net progress questionable. The feeling among the experts was that Liverpool were treading water, not surging forward.
Then there was Arsenal. Arthur could vividly remember last month's ceremony—Arsène Wenger and his team saying goodbye to the iconic Highbury and moving into the shiny new Emirates Stadium. It was a historic moment, but the consequences were clear.
The move had come at a price. Literally.
With the club now saddled with debt from the stadium construction, Wenger's already-tight purse strings were pulled even tighter. Arsenal spent less than €15 million in the summer transfer window—practically nothing compared to their rivals. The result? A talented but thin squad and serious questions about whether they could stay in the race for the top four.
But while the rest of the football world argued, analyzed, and second-guessed, Arthur had his eyes on one thing only: the title.
He didn't care about what the media said. He didn't care about Chelsea's superstars or Arsenal's financial woes. His goal was simple and direct—win the Premier League.
And that focus only sharpened after what happened last week.
Just before the Maccabi Haifa game, Arthur received a notification from the system.
[New Task Unlocked!]
The system had issued him a season-long challenge, and the rewards were... eye-catching to say the least.
The entry-level reward? A Diamond Treasure Chest—but only if Leeds won the league title. And that was just the beginning. The system teased even higher-level rewards—Star, Glory, King, and the elusive Glory King chests. But those could only be earned by winning the Champions League.
Arthur stared at the glowing task panel with a half-smile. He hadn't even opened a diamond chest before. This was new territory. And for a manager who'd spent the last season carefully building his team, every bit of reward felt like it mattered.
He leaned back in his chair, his mind already calculating. He had depth. He had youth. He had experience. The core was in place, and now, with Ibrahimovic and Torres up front, the firepower had reached a new level. Cannavaro had shored up the defense. Modric and Alonso controlled the midfield. Ribery, Podolski, and De Bruyne gave him options in the final third. And most importantly, his system was working.
Yes, there were doubters. Yes, some fans still questioned his decisions. But Arthur had no intention of playing it safe. The league title was no longer just a dream—it was a minimum target. And the Champions League? He wasn't going to say it out loud just yet, but deep down, he had a feeling this could be the start of something even bigger.
With the Premier League days away, Arthur closed the system window, stood up, and looked out across the training ground. The players were finishing their drills under the late afternoon sun, full of energy and hunger.
The world could keep talking.
Leeds United was ready.
****
August 19, Saturday.
The 2006–07 Premier League season officially kicked off, and all eyes were on the first matches of the day. Leeds United, Liverpool, and Arsenal were among the early contenders stepping onto the pitch—three teams pegged by pundits as fighting to maintain fourth place, perhaps sneak into third if things broke their way.
Arthur's Leeds United were on the road, traveling north to face Newcastle United at St. James' Park. Newcastle, led by England's own Michael Owen, were hoping to launch a better campaign after years of underwhelming results. But fate had already dealt them a cruel blow. In June, during the World Cup group stage match against Sweden, Owen collapsed to the turf with no one around him—an all-too-familiar sight. The verdict was immediate and brutal: torn knee ligaments. His season was done before it even began.
In response, Newcastle splashed the cash. They brought in Obafemi Martins from Inter Milan and Damien Duff from Chelsea in hopes of salvaging their attacking firepower. It was an ambitious move, but Arthur remained unimpressed. From his perspective, Martins and Duff—whose combined price tag didn't even come close to what he'd paid for Fernando Torres—were hardly enough to threaten Leeds United.
But Arthur had his own plans for rotation. With a Champions League qualifier just days away in the Middle East, he opted to rest several regular starters and reshuffle his lineup strategically.
In goal, Arthur gave young Manuel Neuer the nod over Kasper Schmeichel. A transfer offer had been lodged for Schmeichel just last month, and Arthur wanted to accelerate Neuer's development by giving him meaningful minutes. If all went well, the German would soon claim the starting job outright, and Schmeichel could be moved on for a profit.
The defense also saw a few adjustments. Cannavaro and Sun Jihai, who had featured in the previous match, were rotated out. Instead, Arthur went with a back four of Maicon at right-back, Kompany and Thiago Silva as the centre-back pairing, and Lahm on the left. A solid mix of pace, strength, and tactical awareness.
Midfield was overhauled as well. Arthur opted for a double-pivot of Mascherano and Luis García as the defensive screen, a duo capable of both shielding the back line and launching quick transitions. On the flanks, he handed starts to Gareth Bale on the left and Franck Ribery on the right—two players itching for minutes and bursting with pace.
Up front, he deployed a powerful combination of Zlatan Ibrahimović and Lukas Podolski. Zlatan offered the height, skill, and hold-up play, while Podolski brought blistering pace and a cannon of a left foot. On paper, it was a mix of finesse and raw athleticism.
Meanwhile, on the Newcastle bench, head coach Glenn Roeder reviewed Leeds United's lineup with concern. The moment he saw Bale and Ribery starting on the wings, he immediately knew what Arthur was going for: a classic double-winger setup. In his pre-match briefing, Roeder urged his full-backs and midfielders to close down the flanks, prevent cut-ins, and double up when needed.
But football isn't played on paper.
From the opening whistle, it became clear that stopping Bale and Ribery was easier said than done. Both had evolved massively over the past season. Their acceleration, dribbling, and inside-cutting ability had reached terrifying levels. Earlier that month, Arthur had checked their updated ratings through his system: both now had a blistering 95 in speed.
With Ribery darting down the right and Bale surging up the left, Newcastle's full-backs were constantly dragged out of position. Maicon and Lahm were also overlapping aggressively, providing additional width and forcing Newcastle to defend deep.
Arthur watched from the technical area with calm assurance. His plan was working. Bale, constantly shifting inside onto his stronger left foot, was pulling defenders into the half-space and opening gaps. Ribery, on the other hand, hugged the touchline before bursting diagonally, playing quick one-twos with García and Podolski.
The real difference was in the variety of Leeds' attacks. When Newcastle adjusted to cut off the wings, Mascherano and García began recycling possession through the middle. Kompany and Silva stepped up into the midfield line to keep pressure high, effectively pinning Newcastle into their own half.
Every time Newcastle tried to hit Leeds on the break, Neuer's confident sweeping and ball distribution snuffed out the threat early. Despite his age, the German keeper was calm, commanding, and already showing signs of being a top-level shot-stopper.
By the end of the first half, Newcastle looked exhausted. The flanks had become highways for Ribery and Bale, while Zlatan's constant movement and Podolski's darting runs kept the centre-backs guessing.
Arthur didn't need to scream instructions. He barely moved from his seat, simply nodding in approval as wave after wave of attacks pushed Newcastle deeper and deeper.
And with Bale and Ribery clocking 95-speed on the wings, Arthur knew it was just a matter of time.
****
The moment the whistle blew at St. James' Park, it was clear Leeds United weren't there to wait and see. Arthur's team burst out of the gates like a pack of wolves, swarming Newcastle with sharp passing, relentless pressing, and frightening speed on the flanks. There was no feeling-out period. From the very first touch, it was all Leeds.
And it didn't take long to break through.
Just seven minutes in, Gareth Bale and Philipp Lahm put on a masterclass in wide play down the left flank. It started with a smooth one-two. Lahm darted inside with the ball, then slipped it down the line to Bale. The Welsh winger didn't waste a second. He galloped past the trailing defender, hugged the touchline all the way to the byline, then lifted his head.
The movement in the box had already begun. Ibrahimović, towering and lurking at the far post, made a subtle shift away from his marker. Bale spotted him and whipped in a pinpoint cross. The delivery was perfect—fast, curling, and with just enough dip.
Despite not being known for his heading, Zlatan rose between the defenders and powered a clean header across goal. The net rippled.
1–0 Leeds.
The away section erupted. The rest of the stadium went silent.
But Arthur wasn't interested in early celebrations. On the sideline, he urged his players forward, arms waving, voice rising over the noise. There would be no letting up. No sitting back. Newcastle looked rattled, and Arthur wanted to finish the job.
Just five minutes later, Leeds almost struck again.
Mascherano, patrolling midfield with calm aggression, intercepted a sloppy pass and immediately surged forward. It was classic Arthur-ball—transition in a flash. Mascherano bulldozed through the center circle, reached the edge of the box, glanced up—and noticed something strange: no one had come to pressure him.
So, he took the invitation.
He pulled back his leg and let fly with a thunderous long-range effort. The shot screamed toward the top of the net, but Newcastle keeper Shay Given was alert. He punched the ball away with both fists, but the ball only flew a few yards forward due to the sheer force of the strike.
And that's when it happened.
Zlatan Ibrahimović, already lurking just outside the six-yard box, tracked the rebound like a predator. The ball dropped perfectly—almost invitingly—into his path.
What followed next would be replayed on highlight reels for weeks.
Ibrahimović twisted mid-air, his body coiling like a spring. With his back to goal, he leapt up, extended one long leg, and executed a textbook bicycle kick.
Bang.
The ball rocketed into the top-right corner before Given could even react. The crowd froze. A few seconds passed in stunned silence as the brilliance of the goal sank in.
2–0.
Ibrahimović sprinted toward the sideline, arms wide, roaring with joy. Arthur, stunned for a moment himself, couldn't help but break into a broad grin. Zlatan ran straight to him, the two embracing as teammates swarmed them in celebration.
On the other side of the pitch, Newcastle's players stood frozen. Their manager, Glenn Roeder, stared blankly at the scoreboard, the weight of what was happening slowly pressing down on him. There was still plenty of time left—but the tone had been set.
Leeds controlled the rest of the match, dominating in every area. The midfield duo of Mascherano and García snapped into tackles and circulated possession smartly. Ribéry and Bale continued tormenting Newcastle's full-backs. Podolski buzzed around the final third, dragging defenders and creating chaos.
Newcastle did manage to pull one back late in the second half, but it was little more than a consolation. Leeds added two more of their own before full-time, showcasing their depth and attacking variety.
By the 80th minute, Glenn Roeder looked up at the screen and saw the dreaded numbers:
1 – 4.
The seats around him were beginning to empty. Fans filed out, heads down, disappointed and quiet. The mood at St. James' Park had turned from hopeful to hollow.
Arthur, meanwhile, was glowing. His first Premier League win of the season—and it was emphatic. After the final whistle, he gathered his squad and took them out to a nearby local restaurant for a modest celebration. Spirits were high, laughter was flowing, and the food never tasted better.
But there was no time to rest. Tomorrow, they'd be boarding a flight straight from Newcastle to the Middle East for the second leg of their Champions League qualifier. It was a tight schedule, but Arthur liked it that way. The momentum was real, and the squad was clicking.
Elsewhere in the league, though, things weren't quite so cheerful.
As Arthur and his team enjoyed dinner, results from the other matches started coming in. Liverpool, under Rafa Benítez, had drawn 1–1 away to newly promoted Sheffield United. A frustrating start against supposedly weaker opposition.
Arsenal, now settling into life at the Emirates Stadium, had also been held to a 1–1 draw—this time by Aston Villa, at home. It was not the kind of debut performance fans had hoped for in their gleaming new stadium.
And that wasn't even the worst of it.
On Sunday, the remaining matches were played. Chelsea, the reigning champions, and Manchester United, their fiercest rivals, both won convincingly at home. Their squads looked sharp, composed, and ruthless.
By the end of the weekend, the headlines were already writing themselves.
Criticism was brewing. And two seasoned managers—Benítez and Wenger—were left bracing themselves for the media storm that would arrive in the morning newspapers.
Arthur, on the other hand, had nothing but confidence.