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Chapter 69: North London Derby End
🕑 Added 2025-06-13 14:31:34 +0000 UTC"Bale has the ball again, looking to take on the flank—but Kai steps up and shuts it down decisively."
Ian Darke's voice ignited the stadium, the crowd rising with excitement.
Just when it looked like Bale was about to break loose, Kai timed his challenge perfectly, halting him in his tracks.
"That’s the third time, isn’t it?" Ian Darke shook his head. "Why do you think he keeps trying that, Steve?"
" Don't know Ian"
On the pitch, Kai glanced over at Bale, who hadn’t quite evolved into the full-fledged Madrid self yet.
He didn’t get it.
Bell was supposed to be one of the few players who posed a real threat to him, especially with that blistering speed, which was Kai’s biggest weakness. As long as Bell opened up and sprinted, Kai wouldn’t be able to do much.
But for some reason, Bell kept trying to outsmart him in tight spaces.
Seriously, even if it were Modrić trying it, Kai would still back himself to win the ball.
Not that he minded—Bale's previous challenges earlier had felt pretty satisfying to intercept.
With Bale locked out behind him, Kai calmly passed the ball back to Sagna and turned his gaze upfield.
Cazorla had already pulled into space, Arteta was ready for the next pass, and both Podolski and Walcott were starting their runs. Without hesitation, Kai stepped on the gas and surged forward.
Arteta fed the ball to Cazorla, who quickly returned it. With that, Kai and Arteta took off like twin arrows, charging at the Spurs defense from both sides.
Both men ran off the ball, overtaking Cazorla and drawing defenders with them.
Cazorla slipped it back to Arteta, who swung it wide to Walcott.
As Walcott received it, he cut inside sharply, using his explosive pace to dart toward the edge of the box.
Spurs’ full-back Kyle Naughton flinched—Suárez was making a run in front of him, and Arsenal’s No. 4, Kai, was thundering down the flank.
He hesitated, then made his choice—he let Suárez go and went to cover Kai.
Kai couldn’t help but smile mid-run. Someone was defending him?
Because deep down, he knew he was mostly there for show at this stage of the attack.
Kai rarely featured in the finishing moments of a goal.
But he always made those wide runs.
Even if he didn’t get the final touch, he opened up space—and this time, it paid off again.
Kai and Arteta had just pulled three Spurs defenders out of position.
That left Arsenal with a numerical advantage in the box:
Arsenal: Suárez, Walcott, Podolski.
Tottenham: Vertonghen, Gallas.
Kai drew Naughton.
Arteta dragged both Lennon and Kyle Walker.
Arsenal’s offensive setup was now humming.
And the players delivered.
After three swift, tight passes in the box, Suárez calmly slotted the ball home.
"Gooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaal!"
"Luis Suárez scores his seventh of the season—he’s now level with Van Persie at the top of the scoring chart!"
"The Gunners strike again with a textbook counterattack!"
The Emirates exploded. Arsenal fans were in full voice, roaring their approval.
On the pitch, Suárez and the rest celebrated wildly.
But Kai didn’t join them.
He just turned and jogged back toward midfield.
No one noticed—except Arsène Wenger, standing quietly by the touchline, pen in hand, eyes sharp.
Another interception leading to a counterattack...
Wenger’s lips pressed into a thin line as he scribbled into his notebook.
Maybe it was time to explore a new tactical setup—with Kai at the heart of it.
Meanwhile, the Spurs players were rattled.
Especially Bale. He shook his arms in frustration, eyes flashing with frustration.
Last week against Manchester City, Yaya Touré and Zabaleta had bullied him out of the game. He’d hit the post four times and failed to find the net.
It had lit a fire in him.
Now, here he was again—shut down three times by a young Arsenal midfielder.
He hadn’t even gotten past him once.
People always said, "Look at that speed! He’s like wind in boots!"
Wind, my ass.
Bale hated that kind of backhanded compliment. Like he was nothing but pace.
He’d been working hard to improve his footwork, his ball control, but nobody seemed to notice.
Bell looked across at Kai, his expression darkening. He was going to break through in this match.
And he was going to start by going right through Arsenal’s No. 4.
Kai, of course, had no idea he’d just been marked for revenge.
After the goal, he had already dropped deep again, waving at his teammates to get back in shape and not let their guard down.
Some fans chuckled at his seriousness.
"Come on, Kai, live a little! Time to celebrate!" they’d joke.
But Kai wasn’t about to change.
Call it stubborn. Call it boring.
He just hated losing.
The match wasn’t over yet, and unless Arsenal were leading by eight or ten goals, Kai could never fully relax. He always had that lingering feeling that the opponent was going to claw their way back.
So in his mind, defense came first—always.
The rest of the team agreed, even if they occasionally teased him for it. They didn’t mind Kai’s constant reminders. After all, everyone was here for one thing: to win.
As the game resumed, Spurs began throwing everything forward in a desperate attempt to equalize.
And Bale kept trying to force a breakthrough down the wing.
But every time, he ran headfirst into the same brick wall—Kai.
For Bale, the frustration was mounting. It felt like there was a wall of reinforced concrete in front of him. No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t break through.
He received the ball, turned instinctively—and as expected, Arsenal’s No. 4 was already in his face.
Bell tried to get tricky with some footwork, but it was clear the moves were unpolished. His steps lacked precision and deception.
Watching him, Kai couldn’t help but be reminded of himself a year ago.
Back then, Pat had scolded him endlessly during pole-dodging drills.
He remembered it well—shoulders uneven, weight shifting too obviously to one side. Even without relying on anticipation, Kai knew he could easily win the ball.
Bell’s left shoulder dipped. He tried to pull the ball forward and break past.
But the very next second, a boot cut across and knocked the ball clean away.
Bump!
Bell hit the turf hard and threw his hand in the air, calling for a foul.
But the referee didn’t even glance at him.
Frustrated, Bale slammed the ground with his fist, then looked up—only to meet Kai’s gaze.
Kai was staring down at him with an expression that was like “Are you serious?”
For a long moment, they locked eyes.
Kai broke the silence. “What are you looking at? Never seen an Asian?”
Bell blinked, baffled. “???”
In the commentary booth, Ian Darke couldn’t help but chuckle.
In the commentary booth, Ian Darke chuckled. “Tottenham just can’t seem to make anything happen here tonight.”
Steve McManaman chimed in, “It’s been tough for Bale. Every time he turns, Kai’s right there like a shadow. Spurs are looking a bit lost without a Plan B.”
Ian added, “Since Modrić’s departure, they’ve struggled to diversify their play. It’s been painfully predictable.”
And it was true.
At this stage, Tottenham’s entire offense seemed to hinge on one man—Bale.
If he was neutralized, Spurs had no rhythm, no bite, no backup plan.
In theory, that made Spurs easy to defend—just stop Bale.
But in practice? That was the hard part. Containing Bale was no simple task.
If you couldn’t match him stride-for-stride or take him in a one-on-one, Spurs could tear you apart with an attack that flowed from the left and bloomed all across the pitch.
But Arsenal had Kai.
And Kai locked Bell down completely.
With Bale silenced, Arsenal’s attack began to thrive.
Before the first half ended, Cazorla found the net again.
He was on fire.
One goal, one assist—he’d been involved in everything.
After a standout stint in La Liga with Málaga, he had somehow taken things up another notch at Arsenal.
By the time the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read 4–0.
Bale stood in the middle of the pitch, eyes fixed on the big screen. The scoreline made his stomach sink.
Around him, the roar of Arsenal fans filled the Emirates.
It was a total collapse for Tottenham in this North London Derby.
And for him, it was a nightmare.
He’d taken just two shots all game—neither even on target.
He hadn’t completed a single successful dribble.
Every attempt had been shut down by Arsenal’s No. 4.
Arsenal players were already celebrating.
They didn’t need to wait for the final whistle. They had this game in the bag.
And Spurs knew it too.
They had lost—and in the worst way possible.
Tottenham’s players could already imagine the backlash from their fans.
It had been an ugly performance.
Their attacks were smothered at the source.
With Bale totally out of sync, Spurs had no real threat.
Coach André Villas-Boas had tried to reason with Bale during the match, urging him to avoid going head-to-head with Kai. It was obvious to everyone—Bale was being marked out of the game.
But he didn’t listen.
He spent the entire game obsessed with beating Kai, almost like he was trying to exorcise some inner frustration by charging straight at him over and over again.
Kai could only shake his head.
He had never seen someone so stubborn.
Why keep testing your weakness against someone else’s strength?
What kind of logic was that?
Still, thanks to Bale’s hard-headedness, Arsenal cruised to an easy win.
They’d now secured their third straight league victory.
With this result, Arsenal climbed to 23 points, and their momentum showed no signs of slowing down.
