"Hmm!" Chloe waved at him, smiling broadly, which left quite a few Arsenal fans who were paying attention to her stunned.

"Hi!" David quickly noticed Chloe and waved back, "Happy?"

Chloe nodded vigorously, giving a thumbs up in Ma’el’s direction... as if that wasn’t clear enough, she tugged at a spot on the back of her jersey, pointing to the signature there.

"Haha."

Seeing her expression, David chuckled heartily too, remembering the young girl’s demeanor from a few days ago; she seemed much more cheerful now.

At a spot on the sidelines, a group of commentators who were rating players post-match increased Ramsey’s score by 1.5 points and Alexander Song’s by 0.8 points.

When it came to Ma’el, they hesitated for a moment, eventually deciding to boost his original score of 8 to 9.3 points.

"They’re ahead again! Arsenal takes the lead! Two to one!"

In the broadcast room, Zhan Jun’s signature roar rang out: "Launched the attack with a long pass from Walcott! He intercepted Hector’s sideline ball, found Ma’el, and completed this attack!

"Wasting an opportunity is bound to be punished, Tottenham should have been in the lead, but Bell’s header hit the post!

"I think this painful experience will motivate Bell to really strengthen his heading skills, turning it into an unbreakable ’iron head’ technique!"

"Congratulations to Arsenal, they have gained an absolute lead in this North London Derby!"

...

On the sidelines, Wenger once again showed a joyful smile, raised his right arm and clenched his fist, then walked towards the coach’s seat, shaking his head in admiration.

Just like last time, he calmly walked through the celebrating crowd, sat down in the coach’s seat, and picked up a notebook, jotting something down.

He wrote very intently, as if some tactical insight had suddenly struck him, compelling him to write it down immediately.

Not far away, Philip, unsure why he hadn’t joined in the celebrations both times, came over to check, curiously peering at the notebook in his hand, trying to observe what he was writing.

Building new tactics around Ma’el?

More emphasis on high ball play?

Or perhaps creating more space on the left flank?

Alternatively, granting Ma’el a more flexible range of movement, gradually tending towards a freestyle core play?

A hint of urgency appeared in his eyes, as he was eager to understand if his own thoughts after witnessing this scene aligned with those of a top coach.

Even if there was a difference, in what aspect exactly was it different... he needed to know, as it concerned his elevation as a coach.

Until he tiptoed closer, clearly seeing the lines written — "Like the feeling of weightlessness, the heartbeat pauses for two seconds, the whole body tension releases, being Ma’el’s coach is truly a pride."

Philip thought he was hallucinating, moved closer again, blinked, and found the same content.

As he moved closer, this action startled Wenger, who turned around nervously, meeting his gaze.

Wenger: "..."

Philip: "..."

He developed a deep suspicion, wondering if this is what makes a top coach?

Not recording strange ideas or tactics at a moment like this, just feeding yourself some chicken soup for the soul?

Philip watched as Wenger forced himself to appear calm while putting away the notebook, his face slightly flushed, yet he dared not take matters lightly, pondering the deep meaning within.

Is this the step holding him back from becoming a top coach..... Should he bring a notebook next time too?

He pondered this question with a serious face.

In faraway Japan, Moriyasu Hideyuki, the coach of Sanfrecce Hiroshima, watched the game, looked at his notebook filled with tactical notes, and smiled contentedly.

Upon seeing Wenger jotting things down as well, he felt the distance between himself and his idol was indeed very close.....

"For the next match, I will also bring a notebook to the field, aligning everything with Wenger."

He said to his wife, who immediately retorted: "He really has something to write down, but what would you write?"

"I don’t know." Moriyasu was slightly bewildered, but optimistically shook his head and said: "If there’s truly nothing, I’ll just scribble things down, like ’Ma’el is even stronger than I imagined’."

His wife looked at him speechlessly, unsure of what to say, merely nodding.

...

ps: Too many words in a single Chapter, so it’s been split into two.