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Alex looked up.

"You add support beams, Sir," Alex said. "Triangulation. It distributes the load."

"Correct," Professor Beam nodded. "Strength in numbers."

Mark sat next to Alex. He was wearing a hard hat and a tool belt. He was building a tower out of pencils.

"I AM BOB THE BUILDER!" Mark whispered loudly. "CAN WE FIX IT? YES WE CAN! I AM FIXING THE MIDFIELD!"

"Mark," Alex whispered. "You are just stacking pencils."

"It is a taphor!" Mark insisted. "This pencil is Rice. This pencil is Odegaard. And this broken pencil is because I am dangerous!"

The lecture ended.

Alex packed his bag.

Support beams. Triangulation.

He would need them tonight.

Manchester City. The Etihad Stadium. Champions League Quarter Final. Second Leg.

Pep Guardiola would be angry. He hated losing. Especially to his forr student, Steve.

Alex walked out to the car park.

Milo was waiting.

Milo was dressed as... a Demolition Expert.

He was wearing orange overalls, safety goggles, and holding a plunger connected to a box labeled TNT.

"BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE!" Milo scread. "ALEX! I AM THE EXPLOSIVES GUY! WE ARE GOING TO BLOW UP THE ETIHAD! (taphorically! Please do not arrest !). I AM SELLING EARPLUGS! FOR THE BANG!"

"Milo, is that a real plunger?" Alex asked.

"IT IS A TOILET PLUNGER!" Milo yelled. "BUT IT LOOKS SCARY!"

They drove to Manchester.

The mood on the bus was focused.

Steve stood at the front.

"City will co at us," Steve said. "They will press. They will suffocate. They want to break our structure."

He looked at the defense. Saliba. Gabriel. White.

"Be the bridge," Steve said. "Hold the tension. Do not snap."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. You are the keystone. Keep the arch standing."

"I will hold the weight," Alex said.

The Etihad Stadium.

It was raining. Manchester rain. Cold and miserable.

The City fans were loud. Blue Moon.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Kevin De Bruyne stood next to him. He looked like a man on a mission.

"You won the battle," De Bruyne said. "But not the war."

"War is ssy," Alex replied. "I prefer chess."

"Chess has casualties," De Bruyne said.

Haaland walked past. He growled at Mark.

"Little man," Haaland said. "Do not run under my feet today."

"I will run around your ears!" Mark chirped back. "I am a mosquito! Buzz buzz!"

The whistle blew.

The ga started.

It was an onslaught.

City attacked from the first second. Doku on the left. Foden on the right. Haaland in the middle.

Arsenal could not get out of their own half.

In the tenth minute, Rodri smashed a shot from distance.

Raya tipped it over the bar.

In the twentieth minute, Foden dribbled past Zinchenko. He crossed.

Haaland headed it.

It hit the post.

CLANG.

The ball bounced across the line. Saliba cleared it.

"Hold!" Alex shouted. "Triangulate!"

He tried to organize the midfield. But City were relentless.

Thirty fifth minute.

De Bruyne got the ball. He played a pass that cut the defense open.

Haaland ran onto it.

He didn’t miss this ti.

Goal.

One zero. Manchester City.

Aggregate score: 2-2.

The Etihad exploded.

"We are crumbling!" Rico yelled. "The bridge is falling down!"

Alex stood in the center circle.

He took a deep breath.

"Reinforce," Alex thought. "Add support."

Arsenal restarted.

Alex dropped deeper. He played almost as a third center back. He helped Saliba and Gabriel.

He blocked passing lanes. He intercepted balls.

He was the support beam.

Halfti. One zero.

Steve was sweating.

"We are lucky," Steve said. "They should be three up. We need to change sothing."

He looked at Mark.

"Speed. You are isolated. Stay high. Make them worry about the counter."

"I am a lonely island!" Mark said. "Send a boat!"

"I will send you the ball," Alex said.

Second half.

City continued to press. They wanted the second goal. They wanted to kill the ga.

Sixtieth minute.

Alex won the ball on the edge of his own box.

He looked up.

Mark was on the halfway line. He was surrounded by Walker and Dias.

Alex didn’t pass to Mark.

He passed to Rico.

Rico was in the middle.

Rico turned. He ran at Rodri.

Rico did a "Stepover". Rodri didn’t bite.

Rico did a "Double Stepover". Rodri still didn’t bite.

Rico did a "Triple Stepover and Spin".

Rodri got dizzy. He stumbled.

Rico was free.

He drove forward.

Now, Walker and Dias had to make a decision. Stay with Mark or close down Rico.

Walker stepped towards Rico.

That was the mistake.

Rico slipped the ball to Mark.

Mark was free.

He ran.

He was one on one with Ederson.

"JUSTICE!" Mark scread.

He shot.

Ederson saved it!

The ball bounced out.

Mark fell over. "NO! THE PIZZA WAS IN MY GRASP!"

Seventy fifth minute.

The ga was still 1-0. Heading for extra ti.

Alex was tired. He had run 11 kiloters.

He saw De Bruyne getting tired too. The Belgian maestro was slowing down.

"Now," Alex thought. "The tension is breaking."

Eighty second minute.

Arsenal won a corner.

Alex went to take it.

He looked at the box. The giants were there. Saliba. Gabriel. Gyokeres.

But he also saw sothing else.

He saw Ben White making a run to the near post.

Alex hit a flat, fast cross.

Ben White flicked it on with his head.

The ball flew across the goal mouth.

It went past Haaland. It went past Dias.

It fell to the back post.

Who was there?

Not a giant.

But the smallest man on the pitch.

Rico.

Rico jumped. He looked like a salmon.

He headed the ball.

Goal.

One one. (3-2 Aggregate).

The away end went ntal.

Rico ran to the corner. He did a Samba dance with the corner flag.

"I AM TALL!" Rico shouted. "I AM A GIANT!"

Alex ran over. "The near post flick! It worked!"

City were stunned. They needed two goals now.

They threw everything forward.

Ninety fourth minute.

Last chance for City.

Ederson ca up for a corner.

The ball ca in.

Raya caught it.

He looked up.

The City goal was empty.

Alex was on the edge of the box.

"RAYA! HERE!" Alex shouted.

Raya threw the ball to Alex.

Alex controlled it.

He was seventy yards from goal.

Walker was running back. But Walker was tired.

Alex didn’t run.

He looked at the empty net.

He calculated the parabola.

He hit the ball.

It flew through the air. A long, high arc.

The stadium went silent.

The ball bounced once. Ten yards out.

It bounced twice. Five yards out.

It rolled into the net.

GOAL.

Two one. (4-2 Aggregate).

Alex stood with his arms raised.

The Professor had solved the final equation.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal were in the Semi-Finals.

Alex fell to his knees.

De Bruyne walked past. He shook Alex’s hand.

"You held the bridge," De Bruyne said.

"Structure," Alex smiled.

Milo ran onto the pitch. He was wearing a hard hat and holding a blueprint.

"THE ARCHITECT!" Milo scread. "WE DESIGNED THE VICTORY! ALEX! THE LONG SHOT! I AM SELLING TELESCOPES! TO SEE THE GOAL FROM HERE! ONLY FIFTY POUNDS!"

"Milo, put the blueprint away," Alex laughed.

"IT IS THE MASTER PLAN!" Milo yelled.

They walked into the dressing room.

The team was singing.

Alex checked his phone.

A text from Maya.

"Structural analysis: Integrity maintained. You absorbed 70% possession pressure and utilized the counter-attack efficiency. Probability of long range goal: 1.2%. You are an outlier. Also, Professor Beam wants to know if you can calculate the load bearing capacity of the trophy cabinet."

Alex laughed.

He looked at Mark.

Mark was wearing his hard hat. He was eating a sandwich.

"Hey Professor," Mark said.

"Yeah?"

"I built a tower."

"You did?"

"Yes," Mark pointed to a stack of pizza boxes in the corner. "It is the Leaning Tower of Pizza."

"Don’t eat it all, Mark."

"I will try," Mark grinned. "But the structural integrity is failing. I must consu it to save it."

Alex leaned back.

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