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...
Tomorrow would bring the questions, the training ground, and the work that still needed to be done.
Then the following morning, London Colney gradually returned to its familiar rhythm.
Cars began arriving in the car park shortly after the sun rose above the training complex, their engines falling silent one after another as Arsenal's players made their way inside. Kit bags were carried through the entrance, greetings were exchanged between teammates, and members of the coaching staff moved between offices and the changing rooms with the same quiet efficiency they had maintained throughout the season.
From the outside, it might have looked like an ordinary training day.
It wasn't.
The day off had given the players an opportunity to step away from football, spend time with their families, and let the frustration of their FA Cup elimination settle. It had been the right decision, but a day away from the training ground could not erase the memory of a defeat that had come so close to becoming a remarkable comeback.
Some of the players arrived talking about their time away. Others were quieter, keeping their conversations brief as they changed into their training clothes. A few discussed moments from the Manchester United match in low voices, although the conversation usually stopped when another teammate approached.
Nobody needed to mention the result for everyone to remember it.
Francesco Lee arrived with his kit bag over one shoulder and greeted the staff at the entrance before heading toward the changing room. He had spent the previous evening with Leah, and although the conversation at Richmond had helped him put some of his thoughts into perspective, he had not woken up believing the problems he had identified would disappear by themselves.
He had simply accepted that there was work to do.
That was what mattered now.
Inside the changing room, he found Aaron Ramsey sitting on a bench, pulling the laces tight on his training boots. Mesut Özil was nearby, speaking quietly with one of the coaches, while Alexis Sánchez was already dressed and searching through his bag for something he appeared to have misplaced.
"Morning," Francesco said as he entered.
Ramsey looked up.
"Morning, captain."
"How are the legs?"
"Fine. The pride might take a little longer."
Francesco gave a small smile.
"Good thing we don't train the pride."
"Perhaps we should."
Alexis glanced over.
"If we trained pride, some of you would need double sessions."
A few players laughed. It wasn't the loud, carefree laughter of a dressing room after a victory, but it was something. The tension loosened for a moment, and the familiar sound reminded Francesco that the team had not suddenly become strangers because of one disappointing afternoon.
He sat down, opened his bag, and began preparing his boots.
"Did you get any rest?" Ramsey asked.
"Some."
"More than me, probably. I spent half the night thinking about that last goal."
Francesco glanced at him.
"Don't spend the whole morning doing that. We'll look at it when we need to. Right now, we have training."
Ramsey nodded, accepting the reminder without argument.
Francesco did not tell him to forget the match. That would have been pointless. Instead, he wanted the players to understand that remembering a mistake and allowing it to dominate the next day were two different things.
They could learn from what had happened without allowing it to dictate everything that followed.
When the squad gathered outside, Arsène Wenger was already waiting beside the training pitch.
The manager wore his usual training attire, a clipboard tucked beneath one arm. He greeted the players as they approached, acknowledging a few with a nod and exchanging brief words with members of his coaching staff.
There was nothing dramatic in his manner.
He did not arrive with an angry speech prepared, nor did he attempt to turn the morning into a public trial of the players' character. The defeat had been painful enough without everyone being forced to relive it before they had even touched a football.
Wenger simply waited until the squad had assembled.
"Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning, boss," several players answered.
"I hope you used yesterday well. Rest is important, particularly after a difficult match. But rest does not change what happened, and it does not prepare us for what comes next. We must do that ourselves."
He looked around the group.
"We will discuss the match in detail when necessary. We will examine our mistakes, and we will learn from them. But today, I want us to work. We have competitions remaining, and we have responsibilities to this club. We cannot spend the next week thinking only about a competition that is finished."
His tone was firm without being harsh.
"Concentrate on the session. Help one another. If you make a mistake, correct it and continue. We have no time to waste feeling sorry for ourselves."
He lowered the clipboard.
"Let us begin."
The session started with light running and mobility work before the players moved into passing exercises. The early drills were deliberately straightforward, allowing everyone to settle into the rhythm of training again. Gradually, the intensity increased. Short passing patterns gave way to quicker combinations, then positional exercises designed to sharpen movement and decision-making under pressure.
Francesco approached each drill with the same seriousness he would have shown before a major European fixture.
He called for the ball, moved into spaces where teammates could find him, and demanded that passes arrive with the right weight. When a young player took an extra touch and lost possession, Francesco encouraged him to recover immediately rather than letting the mistake linger.
"Again," he called, returning the ball to him. "You saw the pass. Trust what you see and play it earlier."
The player nodded.
The next attempt was quicker.
"Better."
Across the pitch, Alexis pressed aggressively during a possession exercise, forcing a defender to release the ball before he was comfortable. Ramsey and Kanté competed for second balls, while Özil concentrated on finding pockets of space between the lines.
The team was not suddenly transformed by a single morning of training. There were still misplaced passes, moments when players arrived late to an exercise, and brief lapses in concentration. But whenever the intensity dropped, Francesco and several of the senior players made a point of raising it again.
There was no need for a grand speech.
Sometimes leadership meant asking a teammate to repeat a drill properly. Sometimes it meant being the first to sprint back into position when everyone was tired. And sometimes it meant making it clear through one's own behaviour that disappointment was no excuse for doing the work carelessly.
Wenger watched closely.
He moved along the edge of the pitch, occasionally stopping to offer an instruction or demonstrate a movement. He corrected the spacing between the midfielders during one exercise and asked the forwards to vary their runs rather than repeatedly attacking the same channels.
At another point, he pulled two defenders aside to explain how their positioning could have been better when possession was lost.
He did not name the Manchester United match, but the lesson was unmistakable.
Francesco noticed that Wenger's attention seemed particularly focused that morning. The manager had always been observant, but there was something unusually deliberate about the way he watched the players, as though he wanted to take in more than their immediate performance.
Perhaps it was simply the disappointment of the previous afternoon.
Francesco returned his attention to the drill.
There would be time to wonder about Wenger's mood later.
For now, the captain had a job to do.
The final part of the session involved a small-sided match, with the coaches encouraging the players to move the ball quickly and maintain their defensive shape when possession changed hands. The pace rose considerably. Tackles became firmer, players called for passes more insistently, and the usual competitive instinct began to reassert itself.
When Francesco scored after a quick exchange with Özil, he did not celebrate. He retrieved the ball and carried it back toward the starting position.
"Same again," he said. "The movement was good. Keep doing it."
A few minutes later, Alexis intercepted a loose pass and drove toward goal, forcing the goalkeeper into a sharp save.
"That's it!" Francesco called. "Don't give anyone time to settle."
The words were aimed at everyone, himself included.
Wenger stood with his arms folded, watching the play continue.
For all the disappointment surrounding the squad, there were still moments that reminded him of the team's quality. The understanding between Francesco and Özil remained sharp. Alexis's appetite for the ball had not diminished. Ramsey's movement created passing options, and the younger players were eager to demonstrate that they belonged among the established members of the first team.
The ability was there.
The question was whether they could maintain the discipline and hunger required to use it consistently.
By the time Wenger brought the session to an end, the players were breathing heavily, their training shirts damp with sweat. He gave them a few final instructions about recovery and preparation before dismissing them.
"Good work this morning," he said. "Continue like this. We will meet again tomorrow, and we will continue preparing properly. Nobody should believe that one defeat defines us, but nobody should believe that talent alone will protect us from another one."
His gaze moved across the group.
"Thank you, gentlemen."
The players began making their way back toward the building.
Some continued discussing the session, while others headed straight for the changing room, already thinking about showers, lunch, and the rest of the day. The atmosphere had not returned entirely to normal, but it had become easier to breathe.
Francesco was collecting his equipment when Wenger approached him.
"Francesco, could you come to my office when you have finished changing?"
The request was delivered casually enough, but Francesco looked up.
"Of course, boss. Is everything all right?"
"Yes. Nothing to worry about. I would simply like to speak with you privately."
Wenger offered a small nod before turning away.
Francesco watched him go for a moment.
A private conversation could mean any number of things. Wenger might want to discuss the team's recent performance, the responsibilities that came with being captain, or perhaps his thoughts on the summer transfer window. Given their recent defeat, none of those possibilities would have been surprising.
Still, something about the manager's manner had caught his attention.
Wenger had seemed unusually thoughtful throughout the morning. Even his instructions had carried a certain restraint, as though his mind was occupied by something beyond the immediate demands of training.
Francesco put the thought aside, finished changing, and made his way toward the manager's office.
He had no idea that the conversation waiting for him would change the way he looked at Arsenal's future.
The corridor outside Wenger's office was quieter than the changing room. A member of the administrative staff passed Francesco carrying a folder, greeted him, and continued toward the reception area. Somewhere farther down the building, a telephone rang before being answered.
Francesco knocked twice.
"Come in."
He opened the door.
Wenger was seated behind his desk, his reading glasses resting beside a stack of papers. There were familiar things around the office: books arranged along the shelves, framed photographs from Arsenal's history, and pictures commemorating some of the club's greatest achievements. One photograph showed Wenger standing with a group of players after a trophy presentation. Another captured the celebrations of a European triumph.
Francesco had spent enough time in the manager's office to know its usual atmosphere.
Today, however, something felt different.
Wenger looked tired in a way that had little to do with the previous afternoon's match. His shoulders were relaxed, but his expression was unusually subdued. When he looked up at Francesco, there was a sadness in his eyes that the captain rarely saw.
"Please, sit down."
"Thank you, boss."
Francesco took the chair opposite the desk. He placed his hands on his knees and waited.
Wenger glanced briefly toward the photographs on the shelves, then returned his attention to his captain.
"I imagine you are wondering why I asked you to come here."
"I thought we might discuss the team."
"We may discuss the team, yes. But there is something else I must tell you first."
He paused.
For a moment, Francesco wondered whether Wenger was about to announce a major change to the squad or reveal that a senior player had requested a transfer. The manager's expression suggested that whatever he had to say was not going to be a routine matter.
Then Wenger drew a quiet breath.
"This will be my last season as Arsenal manager."
Francesco stared at him.
For a second, he genuinely thought he had misunderstood.
"I'm sorry?"
Wenger did not look away.
"When this campaign is finished, I intend to retire from my position as manager. I have made my decision."
The words seemed to settle into the room slowly.
Francesco leaned forward, his expression changing as the meaning became clear.
"You're leaving Arsenal?"
"Yes."
"But—" He stopped, searching for a response that made sense. "Boss, why? You still have years left in you. You're still capable of managing at the highest level. Look at what we've achieved together over the last three years. The team is still competing for trophies. We've had setbacks, obviously, but that doesn't mean—"
"I know, Francesco."
Wenger spoke gently, allowing him to finish before continuing.
"This is not a decision I have made because of one defeat. Nor is it because I believe I have suddenly lost the ability to coach."
"Then I don't understand."
"I would be concerned if you did not find it difficult to understand."
Wenger removed his glasses from the desk and turned them slowly between his fingers.
"I have spent a very long time at this club. Arsenal has been a considerable part of my life, perhaps more than I would have imagined when I first arrived. My work, my routines, my relationships, my ambitions as all of them have been connected to this institution for many years."
His eyes drifted toward one of the photographs.
"I have seen players arrive as young men and leave as experienced professionals. I have watched this club change, grow, win, lose, rebuild, and begin again. I have had the privilege of helping shape its history. That is something I will always be grateful for."
He returned his attention to Francesco.
"But a club cannot depend upon one person forever."
Francesco remained silent.
"At some point," Wenger continued, "the responsibility must pass to someone else. If I remain simply because I am familiar to everyone, because the players understand my methods and the supporters know what to expect from me, then I may prevent the club from making the changes it needs."
"Do you really believe you're holding us back?"
"No. But that is not the question."
Wenger folded his hands on the desk.
"The question is whether Arsenal should continue to depend upon me because it is comfortable, or whether it should prepare for a future in which somebody else must make the important decisions. I cannot ask the club to evolve if I am unwilling to accept that my own time here must eventually end."
Francesco looked at him, struggling to reconcile the man sitting before him with the thought of Arsenal without him.
Wenger had been more than a manager to him. He had helped guide his development, trusted him with responsibility, and given him the opportunity to become a central figure in a team that had achieved extraordinary things. Even when they disagreed, Francesco had respected the intelligence and experience behind the Frenchman's decisions.
The idea of returning to London Colney next season and not finding Wenger at the centre of the club felt almost impossible to imagine.
"But you don't have to decide now," Francesco said quietly. "You could give yourself another season. See how things develop. We could rebuild the squad, bring in new players, work on the things that have gone wrong. You wouldn't have to leave because we need to change."
A faint smile appeared on Wenger's face.
"You sound rather like a manager trying to persuade one of his players to sign a new contract."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are."
Wenger placed his glasses back on the desk.
"And I appreciate it. But I have thought about this for a long time. I have discussed it with the people who needed to be informed, and I believe the time has come."
Francesco lowered his eyes briefly.
He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Wenger that Arsenal still needed him, that the players still respected him, and that a difficult season did not erase the extraordinary work he had done.
But he could hear the certainty in the manager's voice.
This was not an impulsive decision made in the frustration following a cup defeat. Wenger had considered it carefully, perhaps for months, and had reached a conclusion he was no longer prepared to postpone.
Francesco would have to respect that, even if he was not ready to accept it emotionally.
After a moment, Wenger leaned back in his chair.
"There is another matter I must discuss with you."
Francesco looked up.
"Of course."
"I have already given considerable thought to the person who should succeed me."
That caught Francesco's attention.
"You have?"
"Yes."
"Have you chosen someone?"
Wenger nodded.
"I have a name in mind. Someone I believe has the potential to lead Arsenal into its next chapter."
Francesco waited.
For the first time since entering the office, Wenger's expression softened into something approaching a smile.
"Mikel Arteta."
The name struck Francesco with a force he struggled to conceal.
Arteta.
For one suspended moment, the office seemed to recede around him.
He knew that name. Not simply as a former Arsenal captain and midfielder, but as the man who, in the future he remembered from his previous life, would eventually take charge of Arsenal.
He remembered the broad outline of what was to come: Arteta's development under Pep Guardiola, his eventual arrival in the Arsenal dugout, the tactical ideas he would introduce, and the challenges he would face trying to restore the club's place among Europe's elite.
But none of that belonged in this room.
Francesco could not explain why the announcement had startled him so profoundly. He could not tell Wenger that he recognised this moment from a future that no one else knew existed. Even the smallest hint would raise questions he had no intention of answering.
He forced himself to breathe normally.
"Arteta?" he repeated.
Wenger watched him.
"Yes. You know him, of course."
"Of course. He was our former captain. I remember him well."
It was a reasonable response, and Francesco hoped it sounded like one.
He was still trying to understand the implications. Wenger was not merely considering Arteta as a possible candidate. He had already identified him as the person he believed should take over, and he was telling his captain privately before the news became public.
Francesco had never expected to discover this decision so early, or in such circumstances.
"May I ask why him?" he said, keeping his voice measured.
"Certainly."
Wenger appeared pleased by the question.
"Mikel has developed considerably during his time working with Pep Guardiola at Manchester City. He has been exposed to a modern coaching environment at the highest level, and he has been able to study how a successful team prepares, how training is structured, how tactical ideas are communicated, and how a squad is managed over the course of a demanding season."
He paused before adding, "He also understands this club. He knows what it means to play for Arsenal, what the supporters expect, and what it means to carry responsibility here."
Francesco listened carefully.
"I believe he has a great deal to offer," Wenger continued. "But I do not want you to misunderstand me. Being an assistant to an exceptional manager is not the same as being the manager yourself."
"Of course."
"Pep can offer Mikel guidance, but once he takes charge of a club, the decisions become his. He must choose the team, establish his authority, handle difficult conversations, and accept responsibility when results do not go as he hopes. He will have to learn some things through experience that no amount of preparation can teach him."
Wenger's expression became more serious.
"Arsenal is a major club. The expectations are considerable, and our supporters will not give him unlimited time simply because he is a former player. He will need patience from the club, but he will also need to earn the confidence of the players."
Francesco thought about the squad.
A new manager would bring more than a different name to the training schedule. There would be new tactical instructions, different training methods, and potentially a different approach to selection. Established players might find themselves in unfamiliar roles. Others could discover that the qualities which had made them indispensable under Wenger were not enough to guarantee their places under Arteta.
The dressing room's hierarchy might change.
So might the club's expectations.
And if some of the players had already grown too comfortable after three years of extraordinary success, a new manager could either restore their competitive edge or expose divisions that Wenger's familiarity had helped keep under control.
"Do you think the squad will accept him?" Francesco asked.
"They will have to be given the opportunity to do so."
"That's not quite the same thing."
"No, it is not."
Wenger acknowledged the distinction with a small nod.
"Some players may adapt quickly. Others may struggle. There will be disagreements, perhaps, and there may be periods when the team does not perform as consistently as we would like. Mikel will have his own ideas about football, and he must be allowed to implement them. We cannot appoint a new manager and then expect him to reproduce everything I have done."
Francesco appreciated the honesty.
"What would you expect from the players during that period?"
"Professionalism. Patience. A willingness to listen, even when they disagree. And above all, hard work."
Wenger looked directly at him.
"A change of manager cannot become an excuse for lowering standards. Nor can the players expect that their status in the dressing room will remain exactly as it is now. A new manager must be allowed to decide what he needs from his squad."
Francesco nodded slowly.
It was almost unsettling how closely the conversation connected to the concerns he had been carrying since the defeat. He had been wondering whether Wenger would make difficult decisions in the summer to restore the team's hunger. Now he was discovering that Arsenal might soon undergo the most significant change of all.
The man who had built their recent success was preparing to step aside.
And the person expected to replace him was someone Francesco knew would eventually occupy the same position, although he could never reveal how he knew.
Wenger's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"There is one final matter, Francesco. This conversation must remain strictly confidential."
The captain straightened slightly.
"Of course."
"I mean completely confidential. The club's owner and the senior leadership who needed to be informed are aware of my intentions. Beyond them, nobody else knows. Not the players, not the wider staff, and certainly not the journalists."
He held Francesco's gaze.
"Nothing has been announced publicly. It must remain that way until the club is ready to communicate its decision properly."
Francesco understood immediately.
"If this gets out now, the entire season becomes a discussion about your retirement instead of the football."
"Precisely. Every press conference would become a question about my departure. Every team selection would be interpreted as a message about the future. The players would be asked about Mikel before they had even met with him in any official capacity."
"And Arteta would be under pressure before he had even taken the job."
"Yes. It would be unfair to him, and it would create unnecessary uncertainty within the club."
Wenger paused.
"I am asking you not to tell anyone. Not Alexis, not Mesut, not even your closest friends in the dressing room. And not Leah."
Francesco felt the request settle heavily upon him.
He told Leah almost everything that mattered to him. She was the person he turned to when football became overwhelming, the person who could challenge his thinking without making him feel that he had to defend himself. Keeping something this significant from her would not come naturally.
But Wenger had trusted him with information that could affect the future of the entire club.
That trust had to mean something.
"I understand," Francesco said. "I won't tell anyone."
"Not even if somebody asks whether you think I intend to leave?"
"I won't discuss your plans or speculate about your future. As far as I'm concerned, nothing has changed."
Wenger studied him for a moment before nodding.
"Thank you."
Francesco leaned forward.
"May I ask why you're telling me now?"
"Because of your position in this team."
Wenger's answer came without hesitation.
"You are our captain. You have influence in the dressing room, and the players look to you when circumstances become difficult. Next season, that responsibility will become even more important."
Francesco remained attentive.
"Mikel will need time to establish his methods. He will need players who are willing to help him understand the group, not players who immediately compare every decision with the way I would have handled it. He must be allowed to build his own relationships with the squad."
"And you want me to help with that."
"I want you to help the club."
Wenger leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk.
"I am not asking you to control the dressing room on his behalf. You are not there to ensure that every player agrees with him, and you should not blindly accept every decision simply because he is the manager. If you believe something is wrong, you must be honest. A captain who never speaks up is of little use."
Francesco listened without moving.
"But you must also be fair," Wenger continued. "You must give him the same opportunity you would expect the players to give you. If he changes the system, you must help the team understand it. If a teammate is frustrated because he has lost his place, you must remind him that he still has a responsibility to work. If there are disagreements, they must be handled professionally."
He paused.
"A transition is difficult enough without the captain becoming a source of resistance, even unintentionally."
"I understand."
"I believe you do. You have the respect of the squad, Francesco. You also have the ambition to demand more from them. Those qualities will matter. Mikel may need your help in maintaining unity while he establishes his own authority."
Francesco thought of Alexis, whose competitive intensity rarely diminished regardless of the circumstances. He thought of Özil, whose understanding of the game could be invaluable to a new manager but who would also need to adapt if the tactical structure changed. He thought of the younger players, who might see the arrival of a new coach as an opportunity, and the established stars, who might view it as a threat.
There would be difficult conversations ahead.
Some players would welcome the change. Others might resent it. A few might discover that they no longer fitted the direction in which Arsenal intended to move.
And Francesco would have to help the team navigate those changes without pretending he could control the outcome.
"Do you believe the squad is ready for a new manager?" he asked.
Wenger considered the question.
"Not entirely. But readiness is not always something a club can wait for. It must be developed."
He gave a quiet sigh.
"I would prefer to leave Arsenal in a position of complete stability. I would prefer every player to be performing at his best, every weakness to have been addressed, and every decision for the future to be straightforward. But football does not offer such guarantees."
"Neither does life," Francesco said.
Wenger smiled faintly.
"No. It does not."
For a moment, the sadness in the room became more apparent than the practical details of the conversation.
Francesco looked at the photographs around the office again. He imagined Wenger leaving this room at the end of the season, walking out of London Colney for the last time as Arsenal manager. He imagined the players returning for pre-season without his familiar presence, the training sessions taking on a different rhythm, and the tactical meetings beginning with another voice.
It was difficult to accept that the change was coming.
Yet perhaps that was precisely why Wenger wanted to prepare the club privately. He was not simply announcing a departure. He was trying to ensure that the institution he had served for so long would continue to function after he was gone.
Francesco had entered the office expecting a conversation about football.
He was leaving with the knowledge that Arsenal's entire future might soon look different.
"I won't let you down, boss," he said.
Wenger regarded him carefully.
"I am not asking you to carry the club alone."
"I know."
"Good. Remember that. Your job is to lead your teammates, not to solve every problem before it reaches them. Mikel will have his responsibilities. The board will have theirs. And you must still be a footballer, Francesco. You must play your game."
Francesco smiled faintly.
"You're asking me to be captain without trying to become manager."
"Exactly."
"That might be harder than it sounds."
"I suspect it will be."
They shared a brief laugh, and the tension eased slightly.
Then Wenger stood, signalling that their conversation was coming to an end. Francesco rose as well.
"Thank you for trusting me with this," he said.
"You have earned that trust."
Wenger extended his hand.
Francesco took it, holding the manager's gaze for a moment longer than usual.
There were things he wanted to say but could not quite find the words for. He wanted to tell Wenger how much the man had shaped his career, how much he had learned from him, and how strange it felt to contemplate an Arsenal without him. But he suspected Wenger already understood.
There was no need to turn the conversation into a farewell when the season was still unfinished.
"One more thing," Wenger said as Francesco reached the door.
The captain turned back.
"Do not allow this news to distract you from what we still have to achieve. We have lost the FA Cup, yes. That is disappointing. But the season continues. We must give the remaining competitions everything we have."
"We will."
"And Francesco?"
"Yes, boss?"
"Whatever happens next season, do not mistake change for the end of what we have built. The club is bigger than any manager. Bigger than me, and bigger than the person who succeeds me."
Francesco nodded.
"I understand."
"Good. Then let us finish this season properly."
Francesco gave him one final nod before leaving the office and closing the door quietly behind him.
The corridor looked exactly as it had when he arrived. Staff continued moving between rooms, distant voices carried from the changing area, and somewhere outside the training ground the ordinary business of Arsenal carried on without interruption.
Yet Francesco felt as though he had stepped into a different world.
He walked slowly toward the changing room, his thoughts crowded with everything he had just learned.
Wenger was leaving.
Arteta was the intended successor.
Nobody else in the dressing room knew.
And Francesco had been asked to help protect a transition that had not yet begun publicly but was already taking shape behind closed doors.
He thought of Leah and the conversation they had shared the previous morning. He had told her that Arsenal might need to evolve, that the club could not rely on the achievements of the past three years, and that Wenger would have to make difficult decisions if the team was to remain successful.
Now he understood just how much change might be coming.
He could not tell Leah what he had learned. He could not share the news with Alexis, discuss it with Özil, or quietly prepare his closest teammates for the possibility of a new manager. Until the club was ready to announce the decision, he would have to carry the knowledge alone.
It would not be easy.
But Wenger had trusted him, not merely as a player who could score goals or as a captain who could organise his teammates on the pitch. He had trusted him to understand that protecting Arsenal's future sometimes meant remaining silent until the right moment arrived.
Francesco reached the changing-room entrance and paused.
Inside, the players were beginning to gather their belongings. Someone was laughing about an incident during the training session, while another complained about the amount of running the coaches had demanded. Alexis was talking animatedly near his locker, and Ramsey was trying to locate a missing training top.
Ordinary life had resumed.
None of them knew that their manager was preparing to leave.
None of them knew that Mikel Arteta might soon be responsible for leading them into the next chapter of the club's history.
Francesco drew a steady breath and stepped inside.
He would keep the secret. He would continue training, continue leading, and continue demanding the standards he believed Arsenal needed. When the announcement eventually came, he would help his teammates face it honestly and give the new manager a fair opportunity to succeed.
He could not promise that the transition would be smooth. He could not know which players would adapt, which would struggle, or what Arteta's Arsenal would eventually become.
But he could prepare himself for the responsibility ahead.
The FA Cup defeat had exposed one set of problems. Wenger's decision had revealed another, far larger change approaching beyond the end of the season.
And somewhere between the disappointment of the past and the uncertainty of the future, Francesco understood that his role at Arsenal was about to become more important than he had ever imagined.
__________________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 20 (2018)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, Champions League 2017/2018, 2018 World Cup, and 2018/2019 Community Shield.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 30
Goal: 35
Assist: 1
MOTM: 0
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 2
Goal: 2
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 11
Goal: 14
Assist: 1
MOTM: 7
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9