"Hey, Arsène!"
The voice pulled Arsène Wenger back from his thoughts. He blinked, refocused, and found his staff watching him.
He pressed his fingers to his temples. "Apologies. I lost track for a moment. Where were we?"
Pat Rice answered, "The FA Cup sixth round. Manchester United."
Wenger nodded, his tone steady again. "My position hasn't changed. Before the season, I said the FA Cup is not a priority. It is a competition we can step back from if needed. Against Manchester United, there is no reason to sacrifice more important objectives."
He looked around the room, making sure each coach followed.
"We must protect our position in the Premier League. The Champions League demands even more from us. These are the targets that define our season. For that reason, we rotate."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
The staff exchanged glances before responding.
"The squad is already stretched across two competitions."
"Three days after the FA Cup, we have the Champions League second leg."
"The priority is clear."
"Still, if we can win…"
Someone mentioned Louis van Gaal and the inconsistencies in his Manchester United F.C. side. The opportunity was there, even if limited.
Wenger allowed the discussion to run for a moment, then raised a hand lightly.
"Gentlemen."
The room quieted.
His expression softened, but his words carried weight.
"You all understand what we are chasing this season."
They did.
The atmosphere shifted. The conversation moved beyond tactics into something heavier, something shared.
"We have been close before," Wenger continued. "We know what it takes, and we know what it costs."
No one needed a reminder of that night.
The UEFA Champions League Final 2006 still lingered in memory. The red card for Jens Lehmann, the long stretch with ten men, the feeling of watching it slip away.
"One failure is enough," Wenger said quietly. "We learned from it. When we reach that stage again, we will not hold anything back."
. . .
On March 4, Arsenal travelled to face Queens Park Rangers F.C. in the Premier League.
The lineup told the story before kickoff.
Rotation.
Almost every key player rested. The team on the pitch lacked the usual sharpness, the rhythm that came from familiarity. Arsenal controlled spells of the match but struggled to impose themselves fully.
QPR defended with discipline, compactness, and patience.
Seventy minutes passed.
0-0.
Wenger turned to his bench. Santi Cazorla, Luis Suárez, and Ángel Di María came on in quick succession. Fresh legs, sharper ideas, an attempt to force the game open.
But time was against them.
QPR had settled into their rhythm, their defensive lines holding firm. Arsenal pushed, but the breakthrough never came.
Full-time.
0-0.
Not ideal, but acceptable.
For Arsenal, the point maintained control at the top. For QPR, it was valuable, a result that carried weight in a relegation fight. Taking something from Arsenal, even a rotated Arsenal, lifted belief.
. . .
Six days later, attention shifted to Old Trafford.
Arsenal arrived for the FA Cup clash against Manchester United F.C. with their priorities unchanged.
When the lineup was announced, the reaction was immediate.
Rotation again.
A mix of starters and reserves. Enough quality to compete, not enough to signal full intent.
For United supporters, it felt like a slight.
Two years earlier, Arsenal had been a side they dismissed. Now, that same club walked into Old Trafford, willing to treat the fixture as secondary.
The contrast was hard to ignore.
On the touchline, Louis van Gaal had steadied parts of the team after a difficult start. Structure had somewhat returned.
It was not the era of Alex Ferguson, but it was no longer chaos.
Still, facing Arsenal in this context stirred something deeper.
Among the players, few felt it more than Robin van Persie.
His role had faded.
Once central, now peripheral.
Barring a sudden change, this would be his final season at United. And with it, the quiet end of a pursuit that had shaped his biggest decision.
He had left Arsenal chasing the Champions League, believing that under Ferguson, it was within reach.
Now, standing on the edge of another departure, that ambition felt further away than ever.
Three years changed everything.
After Alex Ferguson stepped away, Manchester United F.C. lost its edge and fell into a slow decline. At the same time, Arsenal F.C. rebuilt itself piece by piece until it stood again as a serious contender.
For Robin van Persie, the contrast was hard to accept.
He stood at the back of the line, eyes fixed on the Arsenal players ahead. On Laurent Koscielny, now wearing the captain's armband. On a squad that looked alive, confident, unified.
It did not feel real.
He had asked himself the same question more than once.
Did he regret leaving?
Yes.
There was no way around it.
If he had known how things would unfold, he would have stayed. The captaincy, the number, those things would not have mattered.
Even stepping aside would have been acceptable, as long as he could have remained part of this version of Arsenal. Competing at the highest level again. Chasing the Champions League with a team that finally looked ready.
But that path was gone.
. . .
On the sidelines, Le Kai sat quietly, a substitute vest over his training kit.
He was in the squad, but he already knew he would not play. Arsène Wenger had made that clear. The real focus was three days away, in the Champions League.
That made this match different.
From Arsenal's perspective, it was expendable.
If not for appearances, Wenger might have rotated even more heavily. Sending out a full reserve side at Old Trafford would have sent a message, one that the Football Association would not appreciate.
Everyone understood the hierarchy. The Champions League stood above the FA Cup. Still, it was not something you said outright.
Wenger had struck a balance. Enough starters to maintain respect, enough rotation to protect what mattered.
That was as far as he would go.
. . .
The match began under a wave of noise from the home crowd.
Le Kai leaned forward slightly, watching with focus.
Manchester United F.C. started aggressively. Whatever inconsistency they had shown earlier in the season, their intensity was still there. Under Wayne Rooney, the tone was set early.
Three yellow cards in quick succession.
It was a statement.
Koscielny stayed quiet, organizing from the back without confrontation. That was his style. Calm, reserved, focused on positioning rather than presence.
Le Kai clicked his tongue softly.
If he had been on the pitch, he would have responded. Not recklessly, but enough to push back, to stop the opponent from dictating the emotional rhythm of the game.
The early bookings had an effect.
Arsenal's momentum stalled. Their build-up slowed under pressure, and United pressed with more confidence. Rooney led from the front, physical, relentless, still capable of imposing himself in every duel.
Le Kai shifted his attention to Robin van Persie.
The contrast was stark.
The sharp, decisive striker who once dominated matches was no longer there. Injuries and inconsistent form had eroded that edge, and with it, a part of his authority on the pitch. What stood out most was not physical decline, but hesitation.
A slight pause on the ball. A second glance where there used to be instinct.
Confidence had slipped.
And once confidence fades, everything slows. Decisions take longer, movements lose their timing, and the advantage disappears.
Le Kai understood it clearly.
Two seasons ago, inside the penalty area, Van Persie would not think twice. Control, strike, finish. That sequence was automatic.
Now, he looked up more often, searching for a safer option, shifting responsibility instead of taking it on himself.
On the other side, Wayne Rooney remained a constant force. His game still carried power and aggression. Even with his rough edges, he dominated physical duels and imposed himself on every challenge.
In midfield, N'Golo Kanté found it difficult at times. Rooney's presence alone created problems, forcing him into tough situations repeatedly.
But Le Kai did not focus on the losses.
He watched the response.
Kanté kept adjusting. His positioning shifted, his timing changed, his awareness sharpened with each phase. Instead of shrinking under pressure, he searched for answers.
That was what mattered.
Le Kai leaned back slightly, a faint nod following.
Growth did not come from comfort. It came from moments like this, where every mistake forced a correction, and every correction built something stronger.
. . .
Please do leave a review and powerstones, which helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon for free and subscribing to 30+ advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a