Chapter 78: Eyes Up, Head Moving
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-The Guardian
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-The Sun
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-The Daily Star
The next morning, headlines swirled across the British Isles.
Even in victory, some media outlets mocked Wenger's decision to adopt a defensive counterattacking strategy.
This was the very style he had once publicly criticized.
Now that he was using it himself—despite its clear effectiveness—he couldn't escape being the butt of the joke.
The ridicule caught fire quickly, with pundits and columnists piling on.
But Arsenal didn't respond.
They let the football speak for itself.
After all, they had just beaten Newcastle United 2–0 at the Emirates in Round 20 of the Premier League.
Three more points.
Third place.
Premier League Table – Top 5 (After 20 Rounds):
Manchester United – 15W, 1D, 4L – 46 pts
Manchester City – 12W, 6D, 2L – 42 pts
Arsenal – 12W, 4D, 4L – 40 pts
Chelsea – 11W, 6D, 3L – 39 pts
Tottenham – 11W, 3D, 6L – 36 pts
Arsenal's spot in the top four was far from secure.
The league had officially entered the scrap-for-points phase. Every club, big or small, was shifting gears.
The two Manchester clubs maintained a noticeable lead, while the rest of the pack scrambled for position.
But Arsenal?
They were limping through this stage. Injuries had gutted the squad—especially in midfield—forcing Wenger to adopt a more pragmatic approach just to stay afloat.
If they wanted Champions League football next season, they had to make tough choices.
And that included deprioritizing the FA Cup… and possibly even the Champions League itself.
Under normal circumstances, Arsenal would never bow out of the FA Cup early. But this wasn't a normal year.
Wenger knew he couldn't throw a bunch of youth players into high-stakes knockout games and expect silverware.
Yes, Kai's form had been brilliant.
But even with all his promise, he was still raw in certain areas. His development was ongoing.
...
In Europe, things weren't any easier.
Arsenal had finished second in Group B.
Which meant the knockout stage wouldn't be kind.
Out of the eight group winners—PSG, Schalke 04, Málaga, Dortmund, Juventus, Bayern Munich, Barcelona, and Manchester United—Arsenal could only avoid Schalke and United due to group and country restrictions.
That left them with six brutal possibilities.
PSG were bolstered by serious investment and looked like a rising force.
Málaga were the dark horses, topping their group unbeaten, including a win over Milan.
Dortmund, under Klopp, were playing electrifying football, driven by a young, hungry core of Reus, Gotze, and Lewandowski.
Juventus had reclaimed domestic dominance and were now focused on conquering Europe.
Bayern Munich… well, Bayern were still Bayern—relentless and ruthless.
And Barcelona, even amid a slight dip in form, remained a terrifying proposition.
For Arsenal, there were only two opponents they truly wanted to avoid: Bayern and Barcelona.
The draw was held.
Silence followed.
Champions League Round of 16: Arsenal vs Bayern Munich.
Of course.
Five years with Bayern. Three years with Barcelona.
FCB was always haunting them.
The curse lives on.
Another year, another intergalactic battle.
...
The mood around the training ground shifted.
The squad tried to stay focused, but it was clear: drawing Bayern hit everyone hard.
Even if Wenger had privately accepted that the Champions League campaign might end here, he couldn't say it out loud. Arsenal still had to show up and play.
As Wenger observed training from the sideline, his eyes settled on one end of the pitch.
Pat Rice was working with Kai again.
"Ball in," Pat called.
He lobbed it toward Kai, who brought it down and shifted his weight forward.
"Head up before and after the touch!" Pat reminded him.
This was something Pat had noticed during the match—Kai's head movement. Or lack thereof.
Despite having an excellent field of vision, Kai rarely looked up. He didn't scan the pitch as much as he should.
It was a subtle flaw, but one that could limit him as he evolved into a midfield leader.
And Pat wasn't going to let it slide.
Wenger nodded to himself.
Kai had talent. Grit. Work ethic.
But the finer details still needed polish.
And yet—even with those flaws—this teenager had already carried the midfield through a crisis.
How far could he go once the rough edges were smoothed out?
Time would tell.
It was a bad habit Kai had picked up from his early years of playing—keeping his eyes down too much when receiving the ball. And now, under Pat's guidance, it was time to unlearn it.
"Head on a swivel, Kai! Look around!" Pat called out, tossing the ball his way.
Kai caught the ball, glancing left and right before trapping it, then immediately scanned the pitch again.
Pat nodded approvingly but didn't let up. "As a midfielder, you need to know where your teammates are, not guess. Anticipate their next move before the ball even touches your foot."
He tapped two fingers to his temple, then pointed to his eyes. "You've got vision—use it. Stop staring at the ball like it's going to run away. That habit has to go."
After the session, Kai gave a wry smile. Training with Pat had shifted gears.
In the past, Pat kept things general, focused on basic positioning, and match awareness. But now? He'd started drilling into the finer points. The smallest details. The habits that separate promising talents from true professionals.
And to be fair, Kai knew the criticism was valid.
He wasn't in the habit of constantly scanning before receiving the ball. It was a deep-rooted issue—years in the making—and breaking it down wasn't easy. Every touch now came with deliberate effort. He'd scan before the ball came, again after receiving it, watching his teammates' positioning and body language to better link up play.
It helped. But it was exhausting.
What's more, the added motion sometimes caused a slight hesitation in his touch—a small stutter when controlling the ball. And in the Premier League, even a split second could be fatal.
So, he had to make it smooth—flawless.
Kai was learning fast. And Pat? He was coaching like a man possessed.
At 64, the veteran assistant didn't look it. He was sharper than ever—up early every morning, first on the training ground, ball in hand, ready to push Kai to new limits.
Before, Pat had hoped Kai could be a Vieira.
Now?
Now he wanted him to surpass Vieira.
And it didn't feel like wishful thinking.
Kai had proven his talent time and time again this season.
From match-winning interceptions to that spellbinding arc pass in the Newcastle game, Pat knew Vieira never played a ball like that. Hell, no one in the league did. That wasn't training. That was vision. Talent.
Couple that with Kai's defensive bite and emerging sense of timing on the attack, and it was becoming clear: this wasn't just another promising midfielder.
This was something else.
So Pat wasn't wasting a second. If Kai had the roots of a great player, then Pat was going to pour in every ounce of water and light to help him grow.
In his mind, Kai wasn't some holding midfielder meant to clean up behind others.
No.
Kai was the centerpiece. A future all-around engine, controlling both ends of the pitch.
A hybrid of destruction and creation.
Yaya Touré in his prime? That was no longer out of reach.
Pat clenched his fist just thinking about it.
"Twenty more reps! Move side to side—keep scanning!" he shouted.
On the sidelines, Wenger watched the pair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Arsenal's goalkeeping coach Gerry Payton wandered over. He followed Wenger's gaze to the training drill and chuckled.
"Pat's looking lively these days," he said, folding his arms. "Been throwing himself into it."
Wenger nodded. "He's got a plan."
Gerry raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… it involves Kai?"
Wenger didn't answer—just smiled.
After a moment, he turned to Gerry and asked, "How's Szczesny doing?"
"Nearly there," Gerry replied. "He should be fit for next week's match, maybe sooner."
Wenger exhaled, visibly relieved.
No one truly understood the kind of pressure the squad's injuries had placed on him. Szczesny returning to fitness was at least one problem off his list. With a real keeper back in goal, the back line could stabilize.
"Make sure he drops the smoking," Wenger added with a frown. "He's a professional athlete. That stuff has no place here."
Gerry nodded. "I'll keep an eye on him. He knows you're not happy about it."
Wenger didn't say more.
There were many battles to fight. But for now, his eyes went back to the pitch—back to Kai and Pat.
If that partnership stayed on course, Arsenal might just have a generational player on their hands.