God Of football

The session carried on with growing intensity as the team settled into the more tactical part of their final preparations for the match.

Arteta moved from station to station, offering instructions and watching closely, his eyes flicking between his players and the watchful eyes of the media.

Izan had been working diligently on his set-piece drills, placing the ball just outside the penalty box and striking with precision, aiming to perfect the delivery that had been lacking in some of their recent training sessions.

His focus was unwavering, the only sounds being the sharp crack of his boot against the ball and the occasional shout from one of the coaches.

It wasn't long before Arteta, still overseeing the broader training, received a tap on the shoulder from the media liaison.

"Gaffer, we've had some pushback. The media wants their time with Izan. I know it's not ideal, but… well, it's a marketing necessity."

Arteta exhaled sharply.

"Alright," Arteta said, rubbing his temples.

"But let's make it brief. We don't need a circus. Just get him to the press area after we wrap up."

Carlos Cuesta, who had been moving among the players, overheard and nodded.

"Understood, coach."

As the drills wrapped up, Arteta called the team into a final huddle.

He spoke quickly and with purpose, urging the players to focus, reminding them of the task ahead.

They weren't just representing Arsenal; they were representing themselves in Europe.

Their first game of the new Champions League format was fast approaching.

"I know the excitement is building," Arteta said.

"But remember: we take it one step at a time. No distractions, just focus. We'll do this together."

The players nodded, heading off to the locker room as Arteta stayed behind for a moment with Cuesta.

"Tell the recovery team to pay extra attention to the guys who took knocks during the session. I don't want anyone going into the match carrying anything. Especially not with this being such an important game."

Cuesta nodded. "Will do. They'll be in good hands."

Just as the players began trickling into the locker room, the media liaison approached Izan.

"They're ready for you. It'll just be a quick one."

Izan nodded and jogged over, wiping his face with a towel.

As he made his way toward the press area, a young Italian reporter caught his attention.

She was tall, with dark hair and an easy smile, her microphone tucked neatly in her hand.

Her Italian accent slipped through her English as she greeted him.

"Ciao, Izan. Grazie for giving us a moment."

Izan gave her a polite but genuine smile.

He'd grown used to these moments, the brief flashes of attention that came with being one of the most talked-about young players in Europe.

"No problem," he replied, hands on his hips as he stood casually.

"I know it's part of the deal."

The reporter's smile widened.

"Of course. We all know you've been making waves, especially with the hype around your debut in the UCL. But we're all curious—how are you feeling about it? It's a big moment, after all."

Izan's expression softened, not quite a smile, but one from all those expectations he had been managing.

"Yeah, it's a big game. But for me, it's just like any other match. You focus, you prepare, and you go out there to give your best. That's all I can do."

The reporter nodded, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"A very mature answer, Izan. You've always been one to keep your head down, no matter the spotlight. Do you ever feel the pressure of it all, though?"

Izan hesitated, thinking.

"Pressure's a part of the game. I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle it. But when you love what you do, the pressure becomes a bit easier to deal with. It's just another part of the journey."

She smiled, clearly impressed by his composure.

"Well said. Last one, then—if you could face any player in the UCL this season, who would it be?"

Izan's eyes sparkled for a moment as he answered without hesitation.

"There's always the big names. But for me, it's not about individuals. It's about the team, the whole competition. I'm excited to face the best and see where we stand as a team."

The reporter nodded, pleased with the response.

"Thank you, Izan. You've given us plenty to look forward to. Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks," Izan replied with a smile before running towards his teammates.

...........

[Hotel]

Izan dropped his bag onto the bed, kicking off his boots as he stretched and looked out the window.

The evening sky had darkened, and the city lights below twinkled, a distant reminder of the busy world outside.

The hotel was quiet now, with only the soft murmur of voices from the corridors as players and staff settled into their rooms.

Izan's phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he reached for it, seeing Olivia's name flash across the screen.

He picked up the call, his voice already relaxed, "Hey."

"Hey," Olivia greeted him, her voice light and easy. "How'd the training go today?"

"Good. It was mostly tactical work. Some set pieces, getting everything sharp for tomorrow," Izan replied as he stretched out on the bed, making himself comfortable.

"Nothing too crazy, but you know how it is. Lots of focus."

"Sounds like a good session. You ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. Been looking forward to it, to be honest," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"We've all been pushing hard, and Arteta's making sure we're all dialed in."

"Good, that's what I want to hear," Olivia said. "You'll do great, Izan. I know you will."

"I'm not too worried about it," Izan responded with a casual shrug.

"But it'll be nice to get out there and finally get into the thick of it. "

Olivia's voice softened, but there was still a bit of that playful energy that made their conversations feel light.

"I'm sure you'll make an impact. Just remember to enjoy it too, alright?"

"Of course," Izan chuckled. "It's easy to get caught up in the pressure, but I'll keep that in mind."

There was a pause before Olivia spoke again, and Izan could hear the faint sound of her moving around in the background.

"Are you packed?" she asked, a practical question that came with her usual concern.

"Yeah, all set. Just need to grab my stuff for tomorrow morning," Izan replied.

"It's gonna be an early start."

"Then I won't keep you. I know you need to rest," Olivia said, her tone shifting to something more easygoing, though it still held a quiet affection.

"But hey, just… do your best out there, alright? I'll be cheering for you."

"I know you will. Thanks, Olivia," Izan said, feeling a sense of calm settle in as their conversation wrapped up.

"I'll talk to you soon," she said before the line went quiet.

................

[Thursday]

The sun had barely risen over the mountains surrounding Bergamo when the Arsenal squad slowly began to stir.

The city, still sleepy and shrouded in a gentle mist, would soon come to life as the Gunners readied themselves for their long-awaited first fixture of the Champions League group stage against Atalanta.

Izan awoke early, his alarm cutting through the silence of the hotel room.

Today was about focusing on the game, the first real taste of Champions League football for both him and his teammates.

The Arsenal players slowly gathered in the dining room, greeted by the hum of breakfast chatter.

The usual banter was softer today, everyone mindful of what lay ahead.

Izan sat with Ødegaard, Martinelli, and Saka, their heads, still foggy from sleep but their eyes alert.

"I'm still not used to this," Martinelli said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Odegaard, ever the calm presence, nodded.

"Feels different, doesn't it? This is what we've been working for."

After breakfast, the team boarded the bus for their final tactical session before the game.

On the training pitch, the atmosphere was anything but unserious.

The players moved through drills designed to tighten their tactical awareness and sharpen their game sense.

Izan took his place alongside the rest of the attacking players, with Saka on his right and Martinelli to his left.

They practiced quick passes, seamless runs, and positioning in tight spaces.

Arteta barked instructions from the sidelines, pushing them to maintain intensity.

The drills flowed seamlessly, and each pass, each touch, felt like a rehearsal for the real thing.

Arteta spent a lot of time on set pieces—free kicks and corners, making sure that everyone knew their roles since set pieces added another dynamism to their game.

After about an hour of drills, Arteta gathered the squad for a brief huddle. His voice, while calm, held a certain firmness.

"Alright, listen up," Arteta began, his eyes scanning the group.

"We've done everything we can in training. The hard work is behind us.

Today is about staying sharp, staying focused, and executing when it counts."

"The match will be at 6 PM, local time, which means we've got a lot of time to rest and recover. So no distractions. Keep your heads in the game, and let's give it everything tonight. This is our chance to show what we can do."

"Now, go and rest. Get your recovery in. Stay loose, stay ready."

The players nodded before heading towards the bus that would take them to the hotel.

A/n: First of the day and of the new month. As usual, help me with your GTs and powerstones and leave a review if you like the book.