Chapter 26: Playing with Wengar

The current situation at Arsenal was not looking great. Arthur, with his usual knack for keeping an eye on everyone, knew exactly what was going on in North London. If there was one thing Arthur loved, it was knowing the ins and outs of every club, especially the big ones. And right now, Arsenal was dealing with a whole heap of problems. This season, Arsenal was still holding onto some of the glory from last year. They were ranked second in the league, just behind Chelsea, who were sitting pretty under Mourinho's command. Last season had been a good one for Arsenal, as they managed to clinch the Premier League trophy under the leadership of Thierry Henry. But that was their last Premier League win for the next 20 years, and Arthur knew that like the back of his hand. Why? Well, it all started back in 2003 when they decided to build the Emirates Stadium. A shiny new stadium seemed like a great idea at the time, but it came with one little problem—huge bank debts. The club was now stuck with financial obligations that were so big they made the club sell off key players just to stay afloat. Arsenal, once a titan of the league, had become the club that always seemed to be offloading its best players, year after year, to pay off that mountain of debt. It had become an art form: sell the captain, pay down the debt. Rinse and repeat. And now, here they were, trying to pick off players from other clubs in a last-ditch attempt to strengthen their squad. Which brings us to the current situation—Adebayor. Arthur had an inkling as to why Wenger had made an offer for the striker. For one, Wenger was a man who truly appreciated talent. The Frenchman had an eye for young players, and he'd built a reputation for turning raw prospects into world-class talent. So it wasn't surprising that he had taken an interest in Adebayor, especially with his fantastic run of form in the Championship. But there was more to it than just that. Wenger had to be getting a little tired of Mourinho and Chelsea constantly overshadowing him. Arsenal had been fighting for that top spot, but they just couldn't get over the Chelsea-sized hump. To make sure he didn't fall behind even further, Wenger needed to bolster his team. He wanted to bring in Adebayor as part of his plan to close the gap and push for a serious title challenge next season. Arthur, always the schemer, had been expecting this. It wasn't the first time a club had tried to snatch one of his players, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So, what was he going to do about it? He glanced at Allen, who was standing there, eagerly waiting for instructions. Allen was always quick to jump in with advice or action, but Arthur wasn't going to give him an immediate answer. Not this time. With a mischievous smirk spreading across his face, Arthur gave Allen his response. "Reject Arsenal's offer," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But, like last time, let's have a little fun. Get a few tabloid reporters to spread the word that Leeds United has received a ton of offers from 'big clubs' for Adebayor. We'll say we're considering our options internally." Allen stared at his boss for a second, his eyes wide with the realization of what Arthur was up to. It was classic Arthur—always a step ahead, always pulling the strings. Arsenal wasn't going to get Adebayor for anything less than his release clause, and Arthur knew it. He also knew that making Arsenal sweat a little would make them rethink their offer. Allen, now fully understanding the plan, gave a quick nod. "Got it, boss. I'll get in touch with a few reporters. Don't worry, we'll make sure the rumor mill goes into overdrive." Arthur gave him a nod of approval before he stood up and turned towards the door. Allen, who was still mentally drafting emails to tabloid journalists, remained behind, probably contemplating the best way to spin the story to make Arsenal look like they were chasing after a player who was "in high demand." Arthur, on the other hand, had more important things to do. He didn't have time to waste on petty transfer dealings. There were training sessions to oversee, strategies to refine, and a team to prepare for the upcoming match. Besides, making Arsenal squirm over Adebayor was just a little bonus for Arthur. He knew exactly how to get under Wenger's skin—and the best part was, he didn't even have to break a sweat. As Arthur walked out of his office and towards the training ground, he couldn't help but smile to himself. He was playing a game, and Arsenal had just stepped right into it. When you're as good at negotiating as Arthur, you don't need to rush into anything. The players would stay put until he got what he wanted, and that included Adebayor. The man wasn't going anywhere unless the release clause was met—and even then, it would take more than just a few cheeky offers to convince Arthur to sell. After all, this was business. And in business, Arthur was always the one with the upper hand. ···· It was Friday, and after finishing the morning training session at Arsenal's Conil training base, Wenger returned to his office. It was the usual routine—sit down, turn on the computer, and start watching the game video of tomorrow's opponent, Middlesbrough. As he clicked through the footage, mentally preparing for the match, the phone on his desk suddenly rang. "Ring, ring, ring." Wenger sighed, reaching for the phone. It was his assistant coach, Boro Primorac, on the other end. "Arsene, Leeds United rejected our offer for Adebayor last night," Boro said, sounding a bit frazzled. Wenger, leaning back in his chair, paused. He wasn't exactly shocked. He'd known this was coming. "This guy," he muttered, "seems to have a big appetite." He could practically picture Arthur, the mastermind behind Leeds United, grinning over the phone. "Let's ignore him for now," Wenger continued. "We're not in a hurry. Besides, what if there's a better option after the summer window opens? 20 million euros is not cheap." Boro hesitated for a moment, clearly not convinced. "But, Arsene, this morning—" Wenger cut him off with a sigh. "Come on, Boro, you're not a child anymore. Is this the first time you've seen this kind of tactic? Don't worry about the news. It's just tabloid nonsense. Trust me, no one is going to spend that much money on a 21-year-old striker." Boro still seemed uncertain, but Wenger wasn't in the mood to discuss it further. "Okay, Boro, I need to focus on tomorrow's game. We'll talk about this after the season ends." With that, Wenger hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the game video. Meanwhile, back at Highbury Stadium, the atmosphere was electric. Arsenal was leading 1-0, and the commentators couldn't stop gushing about Thierry Henry. "1-0! Arsenal finally takes the lead!" the commentator boomed. "Thierry Henry, the king of Highbury! He's saved Arsenal yet again, leading them through a match where they've been under siege for almost 90 minutes!" Wenger looked at the players celebrating wildly on the field, but he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He had known this would be a tough game, but Middlesbrough had made it even harder than expected. They had parked the bus early on, frustrating Arsenal's attacking efforts. 27 shots had come and gone, none of them finding the back of the net. It wasn't until the 90th minute that Henry had finally broken through—collecting the ball after a Middlesbrough corner kick, dribbling past three defenders, and scoring the winning goal. But just as Arsenal fans were celebrating, Wenger's mood quickly soured. Less than a minute after Middlesbrough had restarted the game, Wenger saw something that made his heart sink. Thierry Henry, who had just scored the goal, wasn't holding the ball anymore. Instead, he was sitting on the ground, grimacing in pain. Wenger's stomach dropped. The sight of his star player sitting there, unable to continue, sent a wave of dread through him. He quickly started praying, hoping it was just a minor knock. He couldn't afford for anything serious to happen—especially not with the season in full swing and the Premier League title still in sight. As Vieira kicked the ball out of bounds to stop the play, Arsenal's team doctor rushed onto the field to assess Henry's injury. Wenger, standing on the sidelines, anxiously watched the doctor's every move. After a brief examination, the doctor turned to Wenger and gave him the dreaded signal—substitution. Wenger's face instantly clouded over. His worst fears were starting to come true. After the final whistle blew, Wenger's face remained grim as he made his way to the post-match press conference. The game had been a battle, but all he could think about was Henry's injury. He ended the conference as quickly as possible, eager to get to the locker room and find out what was really going on with his striker. Twenty minutes later, Wenger was still pacing the locker room, his thoughts consumed by Henry's injury. He needed answers. Finally, Boro returned, looking as somber as ever. He didn't need to say anything—Wenger could see it in his eyes. "Arsene," Boro said quietly, "Henry's hamstring is torn. He's done for the season." Wenger's heart sank. "What about next season?" he asked, though he already had a sinking feeling he knew the answer. "It's still too early to say," Boro replied, shaking his head. "He might not be ready in time for the start of next season either." Wenger was speechless. This was the last thing he had wanted to hear. Not only was Henry an essential part of the team, but he was also the key to any chance Arsenal had of securing the title. Without him, the team would be severely weakened. The room seemed to close in on Wenger as he processed the news. His mind raced with questions. Who would step up in Henry's absence? Could Arsenal still challenge for the title without him? He couldn't afford to dwell on it for too long—there were still games to play, and the season was far from over. But the loss of Henry was a huge blow, one that could derail their entire campaign. For now, Wenger could only frown, deep in thought. The days ahead were going to be tough, and he knew that without Henry, Arsenal's title hopes were hanging by a thread. The next few weeks would determine whether they could rise to the challenge or whether their dreams would slip away. One thing was for sure: it wasn't going to be an easy road. ···· It was a typical Sunday morning at Leeds United's training ground. The players were stretching, running drills, and generally making a mess of the grass while Arthur, their ever-calm manager, was quietly standing by the sidelines. He'd been pacing around, waiting for something interesting to happen. And then, the phone rang. It was Allen, his trusty assistant, calling with the kind of news that made Arthur's lips curl up into a sly smile. "Boss, guess what? Henry's injured. He's out for the next game!" Allen's voice crackled with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's a shame... or is it?" he mused to himself. In his memory, Thierry Henry's career had been a pretty smooth ride. He hardly ever saw the injury bench for more than a few weeks, and even those rare occasions weren't anything serious. But of course, the injury that was happening now was a whole different animal. A hamstring tear? That sounded like something that could sideline a player for a while. "Ahh, this is golden," Arthur thought, but said nothing aloud. Instead, he tilted his head and smiled knowingly. Arsenal's golden boy was out, and that could only mean one thing for the Premier League race. With four rounds left in the season, Arsenal, who was already trailing five points behind the leaders, was in deep trouble. Without Henry, they could very well be following the same script they had in recent years—starting strong, only to crumble under pressure. "The title is slipping away from you, Wenger," Arthur chuckled under his breath. "You'd better start making some emergency signings." Arthur had a pretty good idea about how this was all going to unfold. Arsenal would, of course, try to recruit someone to fill the gaping hole Henry's absence left in their attack. And who would be the likely candidate? Young Adebayor, the striker who had been on fire in the Championship and who was now on everyone's radar, including Arsenal's. Arthur knew Wenger, probably better than Wenger knew himself at this point. The Frenchman, with his refined manners and love for nurturing young talent, would likely be eyeing Adebayor for that key role. It made perfect sense. If Arsenal was going to push for the title next season, they needed to find a striker capable of filling in for Henry. And here was the best part for Arthur: he could make it even harder for Wenger. The mind games were about to get real, and Arthur was going to play them with a grin. He glanced over at Allen, who was hunched over a pile of training data, making sure everything was in order. The man looked so absorbed, Arthur almost felt bad interrupting him. Almost. "Allen!" Arthur called out, waving his hand like a man who had just thought of a brilliant idea. "Come here." Allen, clearly eager to please, trotted over, his clipboard in hand. He gave Arthur a questioning look, expecting something important. Arthur leaned in slightly, as if revealing the secret to life itself. "I need you to do something. Find a few powerful tabloid reporters and tell them... no, make sure they know that Leeds United is in the final stages of negotiating with a certain club for Adebayor. Get the word out that we've accepted an offer and are just working out the details. You know, make it sound official." Allen blinked. "You want me to... leak this to the press?" Arthur grinned like a man who had just found the last slice of pizza. "Exactly. Let the news spread, get the rumors flying. We don't want Wenger to think this is just a small blip. Make it seem like we're on the verge of cashing in on one of the hottest prospects in the league. The more pressure we can put on him, the better." Allen's eyes lit up, and he immediately scribbled down a note. "Got it, boss. You want this to hit the front pages by tomorrow?" "Preferably," Arthur said with a wink. "But let's not rush. Timing is everything." As Allen ran off to work his magic with the tabloids, Arthur couldn't help but chuckle to himself. If there was one thing he knew about Wenger, it was that the man couldn't resist the allure of a young, promising player like Adebayor. And with Henry now sidelined, Wenger would be scrambling for solutions. Arthur's mind started to wander as he watched Allen rush off. The poor guy probably doesn't realize what he's getting into. The media circus surrounding this would be magnificent. As the news spread, Arsenal fans would go into full panic mode. They'd be texting each other, calling their friends, asking whether they should trust the rumors. Arsenal's hierarchy would start sweating. Was Adebayor really going to leave Leeds United for a team in decline, or was it just a trick to make Wenger cough up more cash? The questions would spiral, and the answers would get murkier by the hour. And the best part? It wasn't even a lie. Leeds United was, in fact, in talks with several clubs about Adebayor. They just weren't quite as advanced as the tabloids would suggest. But who cared about facts when you could stir up a nice little pot of chaos? Arthur leaned back against a nearby fence, letting the excitement bubble up inside him. He didn't need to make this move himself—he had Allen to do the dirty work. It was always better when someone else had their hands dirty while you got to watch the show unfold. Soon enough, Allen returned, looking pleased with himself. "It's done, boss. The rumor's out. It's already getting picked up by the big papers." Arthur smiled and patted Allen on the back. "Good work. Now, let's sit back and watch Wenger squirm." In his mind, Arthur could already picture Wenger furiously skimming through the morning papers, his face growing darker as he read about Leeds United's negotiations. What a sight that'll be. He was in no rush to pull the trigger on Adebayor just yet. After all, the summer window was still a few months away, and there was plenty of time for the drama to unfold. But for now, a little nudge in the right direction would keep Wenger distracted—just long enough for Leeds United to capitalize on the chaos. Arthur's plan was simple: let the media frenzy take its course, and by the time Wenger realized it was all a clever ruse, Leeds United would be in a much stronger position to control the transfer market. He watched Allen hurry off to deal with the aftermath of the media storm he had just set in motion, and for the first time in weeks, Arthur felt like his problems were solving themselves for once.