Suker got up slowly, while Fabregas beside him looked like he was about to explode with rage.
He glared daggers at Suker, cursing at him with foul language.
"Watch your mouth, you bastard!"
Suker didn't understand Spanish, but the multilingual Gattuso did. He turned and roared at Fabregas.
Fabregas might have dared to shout at Suker, but when facing the fierce and intimidating Gattuso, he chickened out.
He turned and walked away.
Maldini moved toward the penalty spot, and the entire Milan team began to push forward.
Bang!Fabregas ramd into Suker, trying to steal the ball.
But Suker withstood the challenge and passed the ball away.
The Premier League style favors physical confrontation, and Fabregas's style reflects that.
But Suker had faced even rougher play in the Bosnian league, so he was already adapted to this intensity.
After making the pass, Suker looked up.
Arsenal's formation was tight and left no space for forward penetration.
Kaká passed back, and Milan started to control the tempo.
"After scoring the goal, Milan has shifted to a possession-based ga. But Arsenal isn't just sitting back—they're pressing aggressively up front."
A team that plays possession football will inevitably know how to press effectively too.
Henry, Pires, Ljungberg—everyone joined the press.
"Watch out!"
Seedorf shouted from the back.
Suker quickly adjusted and passed the ball away.
But just as he made the pass, Ljungberg still managed to bump him.
The pass went a bit off.
Shevchenko quickly tracked back to shield the ball.
But Gilberto Silva got there first.
"Pires!"
Gilberto shouted and passed the ball forward.
Pires received it with his back to goal, laid it off behind him, and then turned to sprint down the center.
At the sa ti, Fabregas flicked the ball forward into Henry's path.
"Henry! He's got the ball!"
The stadium comntator spoke with anticipation.
The Arsenal fans fell silent in a flash.
At this mont, Henry was their most dangerous player.
As long as the ball was at Henry's feet, they believed he could create a threat—or even a goal.
Henry sprinted down the flank.
Right beside him, Maldini stayed close.
To be honest, Henry was a little intimidated by Maldini.
But Maldini wasn't at his peak anymore. As great as he still was, age had undeniably slowed him down.
Henry didn't bother with any tricks.
He pushed the ball forward and tried to burst past down the line.
He wanted to shake off Maldini.
But in the next second, Maldini threw himself forward, his right foot reaching out just in ti to poke the ball out for a throw-in.
Huff! Huff! Huff!
Maldini was gasping for air.
It was just a brief mont of play, but he really couldn't keep up with Henry's explosive burst.
Had he not anticipated the move...
Had he been even a split second late...
He wouldn't have made it.
Maldini had to admit—his physical condition was rapidly declining.
On the other side, Henry was fired up.
"Keep attacking behind him!"
Henry was full of confidence.
From that last duel, he could feel Maldini's struggle.
Even the legendary Maldini was now weathered by ti.
And Henry, in his pri, believed he could beat Maldini completely.
"Seedorf!"
Suker approached Seedorf. "Drop back more to help the captain!"
Seedorf nodded gravely.
He too could tell Maldini was struggling against Henry.
If they lost the flank, Milan's defense would be in danger.
Suker also decided to help more on defense.
Whenever possible, he'd help take so pressure off Maldini.
Fabregas stood over a free kick on the left side.
He lofted the ball into the box, and Arsenal players scrambled to win the aerial duel.
Bang!Nesta leapt and headed the ball clear.
The ball landed at Pirlo's feet, who turned and passed to Kaká.
Kaká sprinted forward at full speed.
At the sa ti, Suker also turned and charged up the flank, flying past the halfway line and positioning himself near the full-back.
He looked up—no good passing lanes.
Kaká cut inside and suddenly fired a shot.
"Kaká shoots!"
It was a rocket, but hit straight at the keeper.
Lehmann bent slightly and caught it cleanly.
Suker imdiately turned and sprinted back.
"Back! Defense!"
Suker shouted loudly.
"The Milan players are defending actively, but Arsenal's attack is coming to life—they've begun to control the ball."
Arsenal players passed it around with increasing fluency.
Their smooth one-touch passing probed at Milan's defense.
Faced with this passing rhythm, Milan resorted to tactical fouls on top of their positional defending.
Suker grabbed Fabregas by the shirt and pulled down hard.
"Let go!"
Fabregas struggled angrily.
"Nope!"
Suker held on tightly, and since the ref hadn't said anything, he refused to let go.
Under pressure, Fabregas had to pass to Ljungberg.
Ljungberg slipped a pass forward, and Ashley Cole overlapped on the wing.
Approaching the goal line, Ashley Cole had Ljungberg behind him and Henry in front.
Everyone focused on Henry.
No one noticed Pires's run.
Ashley Cole feinted toward the line, baiting Cafu to stick out a leg—
Then suddenly toe-poked a pass backward at an angle.
The ball rolled toward Pires.
"Pires!!! Arsenal's chance!!"
Highbury erupted in noise.
Everyone was waiting for Pires to score.
Pires wound up and shot—but at that mont, a body ca flying in from the side.
Suker threw himself sideways, back first, to block the shot.
Bang!The ball slamd into Suk's back and bounced all the way toward Arsenal's half.
"Ohhh~~~SUKER! What a crucial block!"
Italian comntator Aldo Serena barely had ti to speak before he saw Shevchenko charging toward the loose ball.
"Milan counterattack!!!"
Shevchenko angled his run, tracking the ball's path.
He reached it, controlled it, and kept driving diagonally forward.
Campbell and Touré chased, trying to block off his shot.
But Shevchenko made a simple rhythm shift, pushed the ball between them...
And twisted his body to squeeze through.
"SHEVCHENKO!!! He's through!! This is it!!!"
With such a golden chance, Shevchenko let it fly.
His superb shooting was on full display.
The ball skimd the turf, flying toward the far corner.
Lehmann dived, fingertips grazing the ball...
But it wasn't enough. The ball hit the inside of the right post and bounced in.
37th minute: AC Milan scores again.
Milan leads Arsenal 2–0 at Highbury!
The stadium fell silent.
Arsenal fans looked stunned.
Two goals down?
They hadn't expected this.
But there it was, in bold numbers on the scoreboard.
No mistake.
Arsenal fans clutched their heads in disbelief.
Their expressions froze. Eyes turned vacant.
Two goals behind at halfti—this was a major problem.
On the sideline, Wenger frowned deeply.
Ancelotti had outmaneuvered him tactically.
He thought they might concede once, then recover.
He hadn't expected Milan to smash in another on the counterattack.
0–2 down.
Disastrous news.
"WAAAAHHHHHHH——!!"
Suker scread as he sprinted toward Shevchenko.
He leapt onto his captain's back.
"Captain! Captain! I freaking love you!!"
Suker cheered loudly.
Even he didn't expect that block to lead to an assist.
He just wanted to help with defense.
But it led to a goal.
Shevchenko was brilliant!
So damn brilliant!
In the away section, Milan fans exploded.
BOOM!!!!——
A small group of Milan supporters celebrated wildly at Highbury.
At that mont, their cheers filled the stadium.
Two goals up—a dream start to the ga, a dream first half.
Arsenal? So what?
Wenger? Who cares?
They were Milan.
The unstoppable Milan.
Milan fans were boiling over with emotion.
Their faces flushed with excitent.
Arms raised, shouting at the top of their lungs.
At Highbury, they roared like conquerors.
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