Becoming a football god from Arsenal

Chapter 64: The attention of the famous coach, the shooting is improved! (Please order first)
During the second day of training, Maher began to test his speed ability among Championship players.

According to his previous feedback, level 3 skills are very outstanding and effective in the Championship, and he should not be afraid even if he meets Premier League players.

But speed, as a crucial ability in football, is possessed by most players, and every team has a few fast horses.

This has nothing to do with the league level. Even if you go to an English League Two club, you will most likely find a player who excels in speed.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

During one-on-one breakthrough training, Maher rarely moves his body, and mostly breaks through directly after simply touching the ball.

Few people can keep up with him. With his first few steps after pushing off the ground, he can easily wipe out some defensive players with average speed.

This increased his confidence, and he began to use more violent bursts to make breakthroughs.

Apart from anything else, making soup is really enjoyable.

This absolute suppression of physical abilities can bring people extremely strong feedback and experience, making people deeply addicted to this feeling.

"What happened to him?"

Gradually, Sheffield United players noticed Maher's abnormality today, and many of them glanced at him in surprise.

Is this guy crazy today?

How come he can dribble past opponents all the time with such a high success rate?
Fortunately, Maher had acquired a certain speed ability a long time ago, so they had time to accept it and did not have to ask too many questions.

"You're a good runner?"

After the training, Lowton, the team's recognized fastest player, came up to Maher and said, "I didn't see it clearly before. Why don't you try running a few steps?"

"come."

Maher gladly accepted the invitation and stood with him near the penalty area line. "Run from one end of the penalty area line to the other. There is no point for players to run a hundred meters."

Lorton nodded, agreed to the suggestion, and moved his ankles to prepare to speed up.

The competition between the two of them attracted a lot of spectators. Seven or eight players came over directly, and the rest watched from afar.

"I'll call the start."

Gilbert volunteered to be the whistle, mainly because he was too curious, "Three, two, one, run!"

"Thump, thump, thump!" The sound of quick footsteps on the ground was heard. The two started at the same time, with almost the same reaction speed and starting speed.

Seen from the side, their legs were moving continuously on the same level, bursting with vigorous power, dazzling the eyes, so fast that it seemed to leave an afterimage.

“It’s almost the same?”

"Walter, doesn't this mean that Maher is faster than us?"

"Fuck, what's going on? This shouldn't happen to Loden."

Exclamations of surprise rang out one after another, and it was not until then that the Sheffield United players had a concrete understanding of Maher's speed.

The distance of about forty meters passed in a flash, and the two people crossed the finish line almost at the same time. Others could not see clearly who was leading with a slight advantage.

Only Lorton, who witnessed it, was stunned and shocked. "You won. Is this also the result of your training?"

He had played against Maher in offense and defense when Maher first met them, and he still vaguely remembers Maher's abilities in all aspects at that time.

Loton originally thought that even if he couldn't compete with this kid in other aspects of talent, he could always make up for it in the speed that he was proud of. This was why he took the opportunity to propose a competition.

In the end, he lost?

"That's it."

Maher smiled and nodded. He now had a clearer understanding of his speed capabilities.

It can be said that apart from fast horses of the level of Great Saint Bale and Little Flying Man Robben, he does not have to worry too much about others.

"Seventeen years old really has infinite possibilities. This age is so good." The envy in Lotton's eyes seemed to be overflowing. He shook his head, sighed, and left in frustration.

"My 11-meter time is 1 seconds."

Recalling something, he turned around and asked, "You should be around 11 seconds?"

"do not know."

Maher shook his head and said he had never measured it. It was indeed not standard to judge the speed of a football player by the 100-meter result.

What players need is more of the explosive ability to sprint the first five or ten meters. Long-distance running is rare.

However, the 11-meter time of seconds is indeed a good reference.

Chelsea training base, London.

After finishing the morning training, Ancelotti, then Chelsea first-team coach, walked into the office calmly, poured a cup of tea and began to deal with club affairs.

As a coach who once achieved great honors at AC Milan, he was brought to Stamford Bridge by Abramovich last year.

Abramovich's goal is very clear. There is money and people here. I will not interfere in the work of the head coach. You just need to bring me a Champions League.

Ancelotti understands the club's expectations of him, but he also has his own difficulties and is under tremendous pressure.

"Scouting report?"

He soon saw a brand new document on the table, which looked like it had just been printed out, which aroused his curiosity.

On weekdays, the head coach does not often ask scouts to investigate players and observe their performance reports at all times like in FM games.

They will only focus on processing similar reports that have been sorted out at specific times.

But today, Ancelotti had nothing to do, so he picked up the document, started from the first page, and looked at it carefully.

As he watched, the expression on his face changed. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice someone walking into his office. "Mr. Ancelotti."

A voice rang out, and Ancelotti put down the document as if awakened from a dream. He looked up and saw a strange face.

"I came to see you not long ago."

The man smiled and pointed at the document and said, "Since you are not here, I will put the report I wrote on your desk."

“So you wrote it.”

Ancelotti nodded, put the document down, waved his hand to signal the man to sit down, and searched on the computer, "Wait a moment."

"Are you looking for player highlights?"

The man guessed Ancelotti's thoughts and took out a USB drive. "I made a copy. Sir, just take a look. It contains not only his goals and assists, but also other wonderful performances."

"That couldn't be better."

Ancelotti took the USB drive and remembered the unfamiliar face firmly. He should be a new scout who had joined the company not long ago and had good ability to do things.

He plugged the USB drive into the computer and soon saw a video that was more than 20 minutes long.

After clicking play, Ancelotti sat in front of the computer, immersing himself in watching the video carefully. Time passed quickly and he finished watching it soon.

During the entire process, he was never distracted for a second, and the video on the screen seemed to have a strong attraction to him.

"incredible."

This was Ancelotti’s first comment, and then he picked up the report again: “At 17 years old, his debut season is not even halfway through, with 9 goals and 10 assists, this almost means that his future will not be low.

"Such a talent, I never noticed him before. If it weren't for you, I think he would have become a star at Arsenal when I saw him again."

"The player is still on loan, otherwise..." The scout did not act arrogantly, but reminded him seriously.

Ancelotti stood up from his seat, rubbed his hands and thought for a while before saying: "I will observe him carefully. If it is suitable, I will definitely contact Arsenal and test their attitude.

"If there is a chance, whether for now or in the future, we must help Chelsea get him!"

November 11th, at Manchester United's Carrington training base.

Sir Alex Ferguson was driving out of the training base, preparing to go home to rest, when an assistant coach of the team suddenly stopped his car.

"what's up?"

He asked the driver to stop, rolled down the window and stuck his head out: "Come up and talk."

The assistant teacher sat up, took out a report from his briefcase, and handed it to Ferguson. "I shouldn't be telling you this on this occasion, but tomorrow is a holiday and I'm afraid I won't be able to make it in time.

"There is an incredible player in the Championship. I have just talked to several other assistant coaches and they all think his talent may be as good as Rooney's."

"Rooney?" Ferguson raised his head. To him, Rooney was indeed an adjective, especially when describing a genius.

“Maybe his starting point was not high, but he has proven himself in the Championship and has accumulated a lot of experience.”

The assistant coach was in high spirits and kept expressing his love for him. "He is not only talented, but also has great growth potential. His performance is getting better every month, and there is no upper limit in sight."

Ferguson was curious and started reading the report. After seeing the detailed data and ages, his heart inevitably trembled.

After a long while, when he finished reading, he turned around and asked, "What is Wenger's attitude towards him?"

"It has never been shown in front of the media, but I can guess it. It must be a treasure."

After the assistant coach answered, he was a little anxious. "I think there are already many teams paying attention to him. If Mr. Ferguson wants to make a move, he has to do it as soon as possible. The winter transfer window is almost up."

"The one who poached Wenger?"

Ferguson smiled faintly, thought about it and said, "You can try, but don't hold too high hopes."

November 11th, at Sheffield United's training base.

Gilbert stood on the goal line, wearing goalkeeper gloves, playfully acting as goalkeeper to defend Maher's cut-back shot.

"Oh!"

Another shot went straight into the corner. Gilbert subconsciously shrank his neck and took off his gloves, "No more, there's no way I can defend it."

Seeing that Maher had no intention of coming back, he walked over and sat next to him, tentatively asking, "Do you plan to go back? I feel like you can go and try your abilities."

"It's not up to me."

Mahel answered and lay on the ground to clear his mind. He liked it this way.

[Skill: Curve Shot lv3]

[Proficiency: (1/800)]

[Effect: After mastering the essentials of the lob shot, you start to add more arcs in order to shoot with higher quality and more tricky angles. It has begun to show results and is incredibly powerful! ]

His shooting ability has been upgraded to level 3 after that shot just now!

Now, except for the implicitly improved 'Observation' skill, all his skills have reached a level above lv3!
It covers three physical attributes, two shooting abilities, two breakthrough abilities, and one passing ability!
His overall abilities have changed dramatically compared to before and have grown to the level he had once dreamed of.

Looking back, he didn't know how much sweat he had shed on the training ground and how many tons of suffering he had endured to have the cheerful feeling he had today.

Mahel stood up and looked in one direction with longing eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Gilbert followed his gaze and saw only the sky covered by dark clouds.

"Towards London."

Maher answered with a smile, feeling that he had just let off a joke. In fact, he did not really want to laugh, he really wanted to go to the Emirates Stadium.

(End of this chapter)