The All-Around Center Forward

The next day, around 4 PM, both teams arrived at Emirates Stadium.

This was Arsenal's new home, after moving out of the legendary Highbury Stadium.

The construction of this new stadium had placed even greater financial pressure on an already cash-strapped Arsenal.

However, as a club that owned its own stadium and operated with independent revenue, this move was undoubtedly a strategic investment for the future—painful now, but beneficial long-term.

That said, it also took a heavy toll on Arsène Wenger.

Compared to a few years ago, Wenger looked noticeably thinner, and there was a trace of weariness in his eyes. 

The year Arsenal came closest to winning the Champions League but failed to do so remained the biggest blow to both the manager and the club.

Since then, in order to promote Fabregas, Wenger let Vieira go.

Henry left for La Liga in pursuit of Champions League glory.

And with players like Pires, Lehmann, and others either leaving or fading into the background, Arsenal had entered a new era.

Wenger, however, didn't yet realize—this "new era" would break his heart.

"Long time no see!"

After greeting Pellegrini, Wenger walked straight over to Suker.

Seeing Wenger approach, Suker immediately stood up and extended his hand.

"Hello, Professor. Long time no see."

There was a complex look in Wenger's eyes as he gazed at Suker.

It was hard to hide.

Even now, whenever he thought about giving up on Suker to build the new stadium, he felt a pang of regret.

But it had been inevitable—the stadium was a higher priority.

Still, if the club had just provided him with a bit more financial support... Could he have had the best of both worlds?

Wenger sighed to himself.

"Good luck."

He offered Suker a small word of encouragement, then turned and walked away.

Suker returned to the Real Madrid dressing room.

"Suker, I'll let you play," said Pellegrini,"but I want to stabilize the game first, so I'll start with our usual lineup."

Pellegrini made a point to explain himself.

With other players, he wouldn't have bothered, but Suker was too important. He had to consider his feelings.

"No problem," Suker shrugged."I'm still building chemistry with the team. Once you've stabilized, I'll come on."

Pellegrini smiled, clearly relieved by Suker's understanding.

Starting Lineups:

Arsenal (4-4-2):

GK: Vito Mannone

DF: Clichy, Vermaelen, Gallas, Sagna

MF: Diaby, Fabregas, Alex Song, Eboué

FW: Van Persie, Arshavin

Real Madrid (4-3-3):

GK: Casillas

DF: Marcelo, Arbeloa, Ramos, Albiol

MF: Diarra, Alonso, Guti

FW: Higuaín, Raúl, Benzema

Suker sat on the bench, observing Madrid's lineup.

The forward line looked unbalanced—either too old or too inexperienced. It lacked punch.

The midfield had decent names but lacked diversity in function.

There was no true defensive midfielder, and the back line wasn't any more solid.

Just by looking at the lineup, Suker felt uneasy.

And sure enough, his instincts were spot on.

Real Madrid's lineup felt rigid.

Though Alonso worked hard to find passing lanes up front, Raúl alone couldn't pose a threat.

Higuaín was a ball hog, and Benzema, though cooperative, just couldn't get in sync with the others.

As the forward line grew more chaotic, the midfield lost shape, and eventually, the defense became overwhelmed.

Arsenal, with their tactical focus on pass-and-move, exploited the weaknesses quickly.

Within 7 minutes, Real Madrid conceded.

It was classic Arsenal: a sharp, progressive passing sequence that cut through the defense, eventually "passing" the ball into the net.

"Too rigid," Gago muttered.

Suker glanced over—Gago was Real Madrid's only viable defensive midfielder, and he had some decent passing skills.

Suker felt Pellegrini should've been more decisive.

He should have benched Guti and built a defensive midfield duo of Alonso and Gago to shield the back four.

But Pellegrini was being too indecisive.

"Don't panic! Stay composed! Just like training!" Pellegrini shouted, trying to keep the team steady.

To Suker, it was pointless yelling.

Wenger, on the other hand, watched calmly.When Arsenal's tactics started clicking, their confidence grew and they played even better.

And sure enough, in the 28th minute:

Arsenal began a passing move from their own half.12 consecutive passes, ending with Fabregas crossing from the right and Van Persie volleying it into the net.

In just 28 minutes, Real Madrid were down 2–0.

Only then did Pellegrini wake up.

"Sub! Sub!" he shouted.

No full rotation—just one change:

Higuaín off, Suker on.

"Why me?!" Higuaín fumed.

He was furious—he felt he'd been the best-performing forward up to that point.

He could dribble, shoot, and had threatened Arsenal more than Raúl or Benzema.

Yet he was the one subbed off.

He stormed off, refusing to high-five Suker.

Suker didn't mind.

Pellegrini sighed and told Suker:

"Just like in training—use your passing to open up attacking lanes. I won't limit your movement up front. Just get our attack flowing again."

Suker nodded, rolled his shoulders, and charged onto the field.

Now, all eyes were on him.

Even Arsenal's players were visibly tense.

Especially Vermaelen, who had just joined Arsenal this summer—and now, in a friendly, he was facing this monster.

"Stay sharp! Don't let Suker break free!"

Suker glanced at Vermaelen and smiled.

Vermaelen's face immediately darkened.

"Hey! Alonso!" Suker called out.

Alonso looked over.

Suker pointed behind the defenders.

No need for words—top players understand each other through gestures.

Alonso nodded, feeling a rush of excitement.

As a midfielder with sublime long-pass ability, he had always dreamed of linking up with a striker like this.

At Liverpool, he had synced with Torres.

Now, at Madrid, he had someone even more lethal.

As soon as Suker came on, he felt someone sticking close—Alex Song had practically abandoned his role as destroyer to man-mark him.

But Suker wasn't in a hurry. He hovered 2–3 meters in front of Arsenal's backline, drifting side to side.

Even without touching the ball, Raúl and Benzema could feel the difference—Arsenal's defense started contracting inward, giving them more space on the wings.

That's the threat of a top-tier player.

They don't even need to touch the ball to change the flow of the game.

Still, Arsenal's defense held firm, continuously pressing Real Madrid and pushing their lines up to prevent danger.

But with this high line, they left space in behind.

Suker immediately moved into position near the backline, waiting.

41st minute.

Alonso and Guti double-teamed Arshavin and won the ball.

Alonso immediately turned and launched a long pass behind the defenders.

"SUKER!!—" he yelled.

But Suker had already started his run.

Song trailed him closely.

Suker raised an arm to keep Song at bay.

Song didn't dare rush in recklessly—he waited until Suker received the ball to apply pressure.

Seeing Suker reach out with his foot, Song's eyes lit up:

"Now!"

He stepped forward, ready to pounce.

But Suker's instep turned slightly inward, cushioning the ball and nutmegging Song.

First direction change—complete.

Song twisted and lunged again.

Suker now used the outside of his foot, slipping past him a second time.

"Whoa!!—" Benzema gasped.

Even Raúl was stunned.

That trap… that footwork…What defender could handle this?!

After shaking off Song, Suker accelerated toward the right post.

Vermaelen rushed in to block him—

But when he got close, he realized—

The ball was gone!

Where is it?!

Vermaelen spun around—just in time to see Raúl at the penalty spot, winding up with his left foot…

A curling shot…

Straight into the net.