Chapter 293: Chapter 92: Adebayor Slaps Himself! Ma’el Rides Alone! The Abstract Walker [3/3] (Part 2)

"Hey! Hey!"

Inside White Hart Lane, Redknapp called Kyle Walker over to his side, exasperatedly saying, "You need to give him a few steps, don’t think you can catch up just because you’re fast.

"As a defender facing an attacker, you’re at a natural disadvantage, see if those two goals had anything to do with you?"

Kyle Walker stood next to him, confused, hands on hips, having forgotten to even nod, just turning his head around cluelessly, eyes out of focus.

"Hey!" Redknapp shouted and gave him a heavy slap to snap him out of it, making him suddenly aware of the muggy, oppressive atmosphere on the field, quickly nodding.

"I asked you about his characteristics, but why did you miss a few?"

Redknapp’s expression was quite pained; he had a horrible feeling, like he had eaten something awful, having confidently assured the media beforehand, only for Walker to let Ma’el go twice.

"I don’t know."

Deep suspicion lay in Kyle Walker’s eyes, doubting not only Ma’el but also life itself.

He scratched his head, feeling his pride dealt a blow, "He... did he train this season? I really didn’t know his ball sense was so good, his judgment so precise.

"During his time at Sheffield United, I even thought he wasn’t strong, nor particularly fast."

Redknapp: "..."

He waved his hand, signaling Walker to leave quickly, but added before he left, "Gibbs is under a lot of pressure this match, since you can’t defend against Ma’el, find a chance to break through Gibbs instead."

"Okay."

Kyle Walker glanced at Gibbs, ready to launch an attack.

By the sideline, Ma’el, along with Ramsey and others, made a hush gesture towards the White Hart Lane, stirring up the Tottenham fans before mimicking Adebayor’s gesture of putting their hands beside their ears.

"Hey!"

Van Persie quickly ran over, everyone thinking the Arsenal captain had come to urge them back, only for him to laugh and say, "Just because I haven’t been in form these last few games, you’re not including me?"

He quickly joined the celebration, retorted at the fans, then passed by Adebayor, making the same face gesture, hand by his ear.

"Xuxu~!" Ma’el, passing by Adebayor, blew a whistle, mimicking his earlier ’sneer after frowning’ action from the first half.

The result of showboating before a match ends is always like this; there are too many examples of being counterattacked in football, happening daily.

Adebayor gritted his teeth, secretly vowing, if he didn’t score a goal this match, he’d slap himself twice.

"Beep beep!" The referee’s whistle sounded, pointing to the sideline where two players in Tottenham jerseys awaited to come on.

No. 9 Pavlyuchenko replaced Defoe, No. 17 Dos Santos replaced him... replaced him?

Adebayor’s mind went blank, a profound sense of powerlessness flooding his mind, feeling dizzy, born at the wrong time.

"Slap! Slap!"

He slapped his face twice, snapping out of his dizziness, running toward the sideline.

It wasn’t that he accepted the substitution; if he didn’t leave soon, the Tottenham fans would join the Arsenal fans in cursing him.

"Applauds....!" The applause was lively, albeit singularly so, with a strong mocking undertone.

Adebayor glanced playfully at the sound’s origin, seeing Ma’el’s joyful face beside, clapping his hands high.

...

"Boom!"

In the 84th minute of the match, the unexpected happened.

Kyle Walker suddenly surged forward after changing tactics, receiving a pass from Pavlyuchenko, bypassed Gibbs, and broke into Arsenal’s penalty area, sending a cross towards the far post.

"Boom!"

Pavlyuchenko, following up with eerie positioning, stepped forward, leaping to volley the ball with the instep, looping it past Szczeny into the net.

"Yeah....Aahh.....!!" White Hart Lane shook, thousands of Tottenham fans finally unleashing their suppressed emotions from the entire match, almost going wild.

Two to two!

This might be an equalizing goal!

"Oh...Oh...Oh.....!" Their coach Redknapp punched the air towards the stands three times, then was swarmed by all the assistants and substitutes.

His in-game adjustments worked; he exploited Arsenal’s weak point!

If he could leave today’s White Hart Lane with this score, he’d still be the one respected by the fans.

Generally speaking, playing a derby at home, you definitely want to win....but that was before the match started.

If Arsenal were leading in the 80th minute, both the Tottenham fans and he would have adjusted their goal to equalizing.

As long as they equalized, they’d gain immense joy, because they destroyed the hopes in every heart of the rival team, spoiling their sweet candy with a drop of something foul!

Those 3 points aren’t the most important; making Arsenal people walk out of White Hart Lane with a sour feeling is crucial.

"Come on!!"

Pavlyuchenko slid on his knees across White Hart Lane’s grass, passionately shouting and waving at the Tottenham fans, celebrating for a long time without leaving.

Kyle Walker and Bell were even more excited, diving onto their knees, sliding to the sidelines. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

This was Bell’s usual celebration, laying flat on the grass, sliding every time, staining his upper body green with grass and soil.

Is that a player’s badge of honor?

Maybe it is.

But Kyle Walker surely had other thoughts, for today’s White Hart Lane had too much water sprinkled, and due to his hefty weight, he couldn’t stop after his dive, crashing headfirst into the advertisement board.