"in this only one city l love,Back in 1889!!"
This was a rather somber team anthem, rare among British teams, yet it contained their deep love for the team.
"Beep! Beep——!" As the referee blew a short and a long whistle, signaling halftime.
Their singing did not stop, even drowning out the noise and boos from the Cardiff City home fans.
The fan atmosphere of Sheffield United was definitely stronger than most EFL Championship teams.
They hadn't been able to show it in the previous two games, mainly because the team as a whole was too depressed, leaving them unable to see any hope.
But they finally saw it this first half! In the away team's locker room, the Sheffield United players returned to hydrate and rest, waiting for Kevin's next arrangements.
Since they wanted to play well, unity was essential, and many decided to temporarily put aside their personal grievances with Kevin and focus on playing this game well first.
"Good job."
"Well done, lad, I knew you could do it from training."
Maël sat in his seat, and people passing by kept congratulating him, to which he replied with a smile each time.
A wave of fatigue rose in his heart. The intensity of the EFL Championship was still quite daunting, often requiring players to make anaerobic runs and fight with all their might.
His body was not yet fully developed, and forty-five minutes of this was indeed a bit much for him to handle.
But it was okay, he would grit his teeth and persevere, and he should be able to last 65 minutes without any problems.
Kevin quickly walked in from the door, didn't exchange any words with the players, and went straight to the tactics board. "Before the end of the first half, Maël and Ward created considerable threats with their crosses into the penalty area.
"The opponent's overall weakness in aerial defense is obvious, so in the second half, we need to be more decisive and cross the ball more frequently.
"The midfielders, if they have the opportunity, must not hesitate to enter the penalty area to fight for a header and increase the number of attackers."
He moved a few tactical pieces on the board, and instructed others: "The team analyst said before the game that the opponent tends to commit too many troops during counter-attacks, leading to the backfield..."
Having reached the professional level, the players all had basic tactical literacy.
What professional coaches needed to tell their players were mostly the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents in this round, the methods to target them, as well as advance precautions for some risks, set-piece attack and defense routines, and variations.
They also had an important task, which was to manage the team's locker room well.
Judging from Kevin's negative example, this second task was much more difficult than the first.
"Alright, Lotton will rest in the second half."
After arranging everything, Kevin glanced at Gareth Speed standing next to him, "Gilbert, come on, go warm up quickly, we'll make the substitution before the start."
Gilbert, who was sitting next to Maël, had a flash of joy in his eyes, then forced himself not to show an excited and proud face, and ran out of the locker room with his head down.
Maël watched his back, cheering for him silently, they were finally going to fight side by side.
"Beep beep!"
When the players on both sides of the field completed their positions, the referee blew the whistle for the substitution, pointing his hand to the end of the midfield line.
The fourth official raised the substitution board, number 17 Gilbert came on, replacing starting midfielder Lotton.
Gilbert took a deep breath, stepped onto the field with his left foot first, touched the ground with his right hand, then made the sign of the cross on his chest, and charged onto the field.
He saw Maël give him an encouraging smile, and a surge of excitement welled up in his heart, his leg muscles trembling.
"Beep!"
The referee blew the whistle to start the second half, and this time it was Sheffield United's kickoff.
"Bang!" Center forward Evans passed the ball to Gilbert, who had just come on, hoping he could touch the ball more and activate his footwork.
Gilbert took the ball and dribbled a few steps, and only when the opponent's forward rushed over did he turn around and kick the ball to the side center-back.
The players on both sides moved quickly, either closing the formation to press or constantly running to open spaces to receive the ball, and the situation changed rapidly.
After most of the Sheffield United players became serious, their overall combat effectiveness gradually emerged, and they were no longer suppressed by Cardiff City.
In the fifty-fourth minute of the match, Gilbert got a chance to shoot from long range in front of the penalty area.
"Bang!"
He swung his leg and blasted a shot, only for the football to fly directly into the home fans' section in the south stands.
"Hiss," Gilbert inhaled sharply, apologetically waving to his teammates, a look of shame on his face. He still didn't have Maël's long-shot skills.
Maël felt a tickle in his foot watching the long shot, wanting to blast another one himself.
He had a chance for a long shot in the first half, but his mentality wasn't stable enough then, and the opponent's flying tackle interfered, so it didn't materialize.
If he had another shot, maybe he could test the goalkeeper.
But such a high-level match isn't a place where you can get whatever you want. Every opportunity is linked to the performance of others on the field.
If he wanted an easy chance to fire, someone would have to make a run to create space, someone would have to set him up.
But... that wasn't very realistic either. The score was tied at one-to-one, and the pressure was constant.
No one could put all their hopes on him at this time, unless he could first make a name for himself on the field.
He could only wait patiently, focusing on what a winger should do.
"Bang!"
In the fifty-ninth minute of the match, Gilbert sent a long pass towards the wing where Maël was.
Maël was under a lot of pressure when he controlled the ball, which caused him to misjudge it slightly, almost letting it go out of bounds.
"Bang!" In the subsequent fifty-fifty ball contest, his shoulder collided violently with the shoulder of the opponent's fullback, Gabor, shaking his internal organs and making him feel uncomfortable.
Fortunately, he won!
While Gabor hadn't stabilized himself, he controlled the ball, blocked Gabor, and dribbled the ball towards the baseline, running in Gabor's pursuit path.
This way, even if he wasn't fast, he could use the advantage of a straight line being shorter than a diagonal line to shake off Gabor.
"Bang!!"
After reaching the baseline, without waiting for Gabor and the opponent's defending midfielder, Drinkwater, to return, he simply adjusted the ball to his right foot and sent in a cross.
This was a cross aimed precisely, and because there was no pressure, the quality was higher than all his previous crosses. The football sped towards the far post with a fluttering trajectory! A light of hope rose in Maël's eyes, this ball had a chance to create a threat.
"Oh," he then heard the fans in the south stands in front of him erupt in a faint sound of anticipation, many people stood up from their seats, looking towards the situation at the far post of the penalty area.
"Bang!"
There, a figure rushing in from outside the penalty area jumped high with an indomitable momentum and smashed out a header! "Gilbert!"
Maël noticed the figure and his face burst with excitement.
"Swish!!" Almost no one could see how the football went in, only that the football smashed into the net, causing the net to bulge outwards by several feet.
Another goal!
Two-to-one, Sheffield United reversed the score!
"Yeah!!" The cheers from the south stands rang out again, this time right next to the Sheffield United attacking players' ears, everyone heard it clearly, and felt their blood boil.
Maël roared from the spot, celebrating with his head down and waving his arms. He didn't expect that he would get his second assist just like that.
Two assists in one game!
This was also a good achievement!
Even more rare, his assist target was his good friend who came to Sheffield with him!
"Maël!"
Gilbert ran excitedly towards the touchline near him, pointing one finger at him and one finger at the sky, "I scored, brother, I scored!"
It was as if he had returned to the training ground filled with boredom and sweat, where he repeatedly received Maël's crosses, completing countless wonderful headers.
Only this time, it was on the field! "Haha!"
Maël followed him and ran over, laughing loudly, "Does this mean you have to treat me to a meal?"
"Of course!"
Gilbert didn't care about anything else at this time, he would probably agree even if he had to take out all his savings, he had lost his mind, "Eat the best!"
The two Arsenal youngsters ran, laughed, and then very tacitly threw their bodies out, combining to complete a four-bar sliding celebration.
"Click, click!" Photographers at the edge of the field quickly captured this rare moment.
In the lens, the two little fellows faced each other, laughing wildly, and gracefully spread their arms, sliding on their knees. Behind them were countless fans stretching out their bodies and waving their fists towards them, and behind them were their teammates running excitedly.
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