"The Gunners are defending with everything they've got—Newcastle can't even break into their half!"
Pitch side commentator Ian Darke looked slightly skeptical, glancing toward his broadcast partner.
"I've got to say, Steve," he muttered, "I'm not convinced Arsenal are built for counter-attacking football."
Steve McManaman chuckled. "Well, it's not exactly their thing. Possession, passing triangles, nice patterns—that's the Arsenal way. Sitting deep and springing forward? Bit of a gamble."
Ian nodded. "Unless they've been working on this behind closed doors, I just don't see it clicking."
But even as he said it, the picture on the pitch began to change. Arsenal's line surged forward, pressing high and hunting in packs.
"Whoa! Hold on—what's this?" Steve leaned in. "That's a high press from Arsenal!"
Just then, Marveaux launched a hopeful long ball toward Demba Ba.
"And Ba's in a great spot here—dangerous!" Ian warned, voice rising.
But before Demba Ba could reach it, a blur of red and white flew into the frame.
"Kai's there!" Steve shouted. "Oh, that's brilliant! Intercepts it mid-air!"
The number 4 hit the turf, rolled, and bounced straight up, already pushing forward.
"Look at that recovery—he's off like a shot," Ian added. "Calm under pressure, too."
Kai slid the ball ahead to Chamberlain, who exploded down the right flank.
Meanwhile, Suarez and Walcott were already cutting in behind the Newcastle backline.
"Suddenly it's six Arsenal shirts bombing forward!" Steve said in disbelief. "Walcott, Suarez, Chamberlain, Kai, Diaby, Ramsey—where did they all come from?!"
"Newcastle are rattled!" Ian observed. "They're backpedaling like mad!"
Coloccini yelled over the noise: "Drop! Drop back! Oh no—it's too late!"
Arsenal's players fanned out like a tactical wave. Kai dragged defenders wide alongside Suarez, creating space.
Near the touchline, Kai glanced up—Chamberlain delivered a clean pass to Suarez, who twisted, pulled the ball back, and set it up perfectly for Walcott.
The keeper was committed. Walcott? Calm as you like.
He tapped it into the open net.
For a heartbeat, the Emirates went silent.
Then it erupted.
Arsenal. On the counterattack. And it was textbook.
"GOAL! GOAL! GOAL!" Ian was shouting now, standing in the commentary booth.
"Walcott finishes it! And Arsenal have just scored off a blistering counterattack!"
Steve added, laughing, "Five passes from back to front—Ian, I think Wenger might be full of surprises after all."
Ian grinned. "And they did it their way—neat, composed, intelligent football. Even the counterattack looked like it came from the Emirates playbook!"
...
"Yes!!" Pat Rice jumped from his seat, rushing to hug Wenger.
"I told you he had it in him! That was a proper counter, but it was all Arsenal!"
"Five passes, full control, and then bang—they're in."
"You backed Kai, and he delivered. That interception—that read—that's raw talent!"
Wenger gave a modest smile. "Pat, calm down—"
"Calm down?!" Pat was nearly shaking with emotion.
But Wenger's face turned. He pointed slowly. "No goal. Offside."
Pat followed his gaze, his heart sinking. The linesman had the flag up.
Offside. Goal disallowed.
"Ah, come on!" Pat groaned. "That move was poetry!"
Still, his pulse was racing. Because that wasn't a fluke.
They'd done that in training. And now, they'd done it in a match.
And that changes everything.
Pat's eyes misted over.
It wasn't just him. The entire stadium sat stunned.
Arsenal. Defensive counterattack. Done right.
From groans about their defense to disbelief at their breakaway play—it all flipped in one electrifying sequence.
One fan could only gape and mutter:
"Did we just become... a counter-attacking team?"
"Arsenal's playing on the counter-attack—are you sure this isn't a prank?"
"Looks like it's happening. I can't believe it!"
Most Arsenal fans were skeptical, but a flicker of excitement started to build.
No one could say it with certainty, of course.
But what if?
What if Arsenal had switched to a defensive counter-attack?
And... what if they were good at it?
On the pitch, Kai was barking out instructions.
"Stay focused! Don't dwell on the miss—pull back! Reset the shape!"
Arsenal players dropped back in sync. There wasn't a single look of frustration—just grit and fire.
That last attack had sparked something.
They knew the counter was a viable weapon now.
"Did you see my pass? It was top class, right?"
Oxlade-Chamberlain jogged over to midfield, beaming.
Kai gave him a wide grin and clapped him hard on the back—
Smack!
"Top job!"
Oxlade-Chamberlain winced.
The first real counter had lifted spirits—and rattled Newcastle.
They weren't prepared for this version of Arsenal.
In the booth, Ian Darke's voice rang out: "That's a bit of history, folks. Have you ever seen Arsenal sit deep and then hit with pace like that?"
Steve McManaman added, "It's like they've got a new identity—and Newcastle are still trying to figure it out."
Back on the pitch, the Magpies tried again to slice through.
But Arsenal's defensive wall held.
They kept shape. Closed gaps. Denied space.
Newcastle pinned their hopes on Demba Ba.
He charged forward.
And once again, Kai was there.
For 20 minutes straight, Kai had dominated. Tackle after tackle, interception after interception.
He was a tireless machine.
Arsenal's entire defensive system revolved around his movement.
He controlled the midfield like a seasoned general.
"Marveaux's been marked out of existence," Ian remarked.
"Every time he turns, Kai's there. Like he's reading from a script," Steve said.
Malvo was rattled.
He'd tried 10 passes. Six had been picked off.
And always by the same guy.
Why always him?
Couldn't they spread the pain around?
The answer was no.
Kai's sole mission was to nullify Marveaux.
And it worked.
"Cut off the supply, and the whole thing collapses," Ian noted. "Textbook stuff."
Kai intercepted again, stepping in like he'd seen it coming seconds before it happened.
On the bench, Wenger turned to Pat.
"You teach him that?"
Pat shook his head. "Nope. But it's working, isn't it?"
Wenger nodded slowly. It was working.
And Kai wasn't just defending. His passes forward kept Newcastle on edge.
Their counters had real bite now.
"They can't hold this much longer," Steve said. "That pressure builds up—it's only a matter of time."
...
Beijing, China
In the Sina Sports broadcast booth, Zhan Jun leaned forward.
"Look at this kid," he said softly. "He's everywhere."
Kai didn't stay in one zone—he roamed, disrupted, and initiated.
On offense, the ball always seemed to end up with him.
He wasn't just part of the system.
He was the system.
"Core of defense and attack, at 18," Zhan Jun mused. "Has Arsenal ever had that before?"
Even the home fans were beginning to understand.
Arteta, Cazorla, Wilshere—they were all out injured.
No one expected the teenager to take over.
They'd looked to Suarez, Podolski, Walcott, Ramsey, and Diaby.
But Kai?
And yet—why not?
Who says a teenager can't be the core?
Especially when he's this good.