The corner kick was taken out, and Arsenal defender Touré cleared it.
AC Milan quickly retreated and immediately started intense pressing again.
Sprint! Press! Pressure! Confrontation!
AC Milan played with absolute determination.
If the old AC Milan was about controlling with patience and liked positional play,
Now AC Milan played like mad rabbits, launching dynamic attacks.
"Keep pushing!"
"Run!"
"Hit them!"
Suker kept running nonstop.
Against a possession-based team like Arsenal, the most effective strategy was high pressing.
Constant pressing!
Constant pressure!
Not giving them a single moment to breathe.
Forcing them into trouble when distributing the ball, gradually breaking down their midfield organization.
"Hold on! They can't last long!"
Pirlo shouted loudly.
High pressing isn't easy.
Without abundant stamina, you can't pull it off!
Suker grinned fiercely, showing his teeth.
Exactly!
Pirlo was right.
They wouldn't last long.
But facing Milan's relentless attacks, how long could you hold on?
Swish!
Suker slid to intercept a pass intended for Fabregas and passed it to Kaka.
Suker got up, turned, and sprinted.
"Kaka!! Cross it in!"
Suker and Shevchenko both charged into the penalty box.
One ahead, one behind, waiting to contest the ball.
Kaka immediately passed to Shevchenko.
Shevchenko leapt up to head the ball powerfully toward goal.
Arsenal goalkeeper Lehmann made a desperate save, blocking the ball with his foot and pushing it away.
"Saved!"
Lehmann barely had time to celebrate before he saw Suker ghosting toward the rebound.
"Fxxk!"
Lehmann cursed.
Touré rushed to block Suker.
Suker feigned a shot, forcing Touré to block.
Suk quickly shifted the ball and created space.
"I'm coming!"
Campbell slid in to block.
Suker skillfully moved the ball again.
"Suker keeps shifting the ball, so calm!!"
Serie A commentator Aldo's heart was pounding.
Shoot!
Shoot!
Aldo screamed inside.
Milan fans in the stadium clenched their fists, eyes wide on Suker.
Shoot!!!
Suker opened the angle, Lehmann rose and moved to block near the near post.
But Suker flicked the ball toward the left goalpost.
Lehmann's eyes widened.
His left foot moved, but his weight was on the right, and he was too late.
He could only watch as the ball hit the left post and bounced into the net.
"Goal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Aldo serena roared.
He jumped from the commentary box, shouting excitedly:
"Goal! Goal! Goal!! Suk!!"
"Oh my God!! Just 12 minutes into the game, AC Milan used high pressing to create continuous attacks."
"Arsenal's proud possession game completely failed, and Milan seized the chance! Shevchenko's header was saved, but Suk controlled the rebound, shifted past defenders, and scored!"
"Suker! That's Suker! Born with a big heart! So calm!!"
"Just 12 minutes into the game, he broke through Arsenal's goal at Highbury!"
"AC Milan has taken the lead first!"
After Milan scored, Ancelotti rarely showed such celebration.
Though small, it proved his excitement.
This high pressing gamble was all about whether their early pressure would pay off, to score first and gain advantage!
Now they had!
Next, they'd use this advantage to control the game slowly.
Defensively, Milan was extremely professional.
"Get fired up!"
"I'm fucking awesome!!"
Suker jumped down to the Milan fans' section, excitedly bouncing.
He waved his hands to urge the fans for louder cheers.
And the Milan fans didn't disappoint.
Amid the brief silence at Highbury, their cheers filled the stadium.
"Suker! Great job!"
"This kid, how can he be so good!"
"Goal! Hahaha! We're leading!!"
"Suker! Playing great!"
Teammates rushed over, surrounding Suk, excitedly rubbing his head.
"Suker!!!——"
A roar erupted.
Suker turned to see Gattuso charging like a bull.
This guy was clearly too fired up.
"I'm outta here!"
Suker immediately turned and slipped away.
Gattuso saw Suk escaping, still pumped.
He grabbed Kaka, roughly squeezing the handsome star's face.
"Tusso! L-let go! I didn't score!"
Suker dashed toward the coaching area, pointing toward Ancelotti from afar.
Ancelotti's usually calm face suddenly broke into a smile.
He opened his arms wide.
Swish!!
Suker threw himself into Ancelotti's embrace.
"Coach, mission accomplished!"
Ancelotti held Suker, laughing aloud.
No coach could refuse such a gifted player.
Wenger looked over, sighing a little inside.
"Cesc!"
Wenger called out to the pitch.
Fabregas turned his head.
Wenger pressed one hand down.
"Calm down!"
Fabregas frowned, looking anxious.
This was the young players' problem—when things go wrong, it's easy to lose composure.
Fabregas was only 19, vulnerable to pressure.
Especially with Suker on the field playing so well at the same time, it irritated him even more.
Wenger hoped Fabregas could stay calm and handle the ball, not be disturbed by the pressure.
Wenger comforted Fabregas, but the player clearly didn't listen.
Milan heavily disrupted Fabregas.
Not letting him hold the ball comfortably, not letting him pass well, even not letting him control the ball.
Step by step, bit by bit, time after time, they relentlessly pressured Fabregas.
Just bullying you for being young and rash.
That was Pirlo's shoves!
Seedorf's minor fouls!
Gattuso's provocations and Suker's performance!
All these made Fabregas even more anxious.
"Pass to me! Let me organize! Pass to me first! Do you understand?"
Fabregas kept shouting.
Arsenal players were already annoyed, and this brat yelling made them even more displeased.
"Run into space first!"
Ashley Cole snapped back.
Fabregas was about to retort but Henry stopped him.
"Calm down!"
Henry reprimanded, "If you want to play well, then handle the ball calmly. Now they'll defend, this is our chance."
Fabregas was angry inside but forced himself to nod.
"I'll pass to you!"
Henry nodded, "That's better!"
Although behind by one, Henry wasn't anxious.
He was at his peak and confident.
He believed he could tear through Milan's defense.
"Hold this one!"
Maldini shouted loudly.
Milan's players were full of morale.
The game restarted.
Milan players all retreated to defend.
Except Shevchenko, who stayed in the box, Suker and Kaka also dropped back to defend.
Fabregas just got the ball when Suker came close.
Suk stood in front of Fabregas.
"Get past me?"
Suker taunted in broken English.
Fabregas frowned and passed sideways.
"Bastard!"
Fabregas frowned sharply.
Suker immediately returned to his defensive position.
When Fabregas got the ball again, Suker rushed over.
"Scared?"
Suker kept taunting.
Fabregas yelled, "Shut up!"
"Afraid of me?"
Suker pressed on.
Fabregas turned and passed back.
"Such a fucking coward!"
Suker muttered, turning back.
Fabregas stared at Suker's back, his eyes blazing with fury.
Fabregas raised his body, holding the ball with his back to Suker.
Suker immediately closed in.
"Still not past?"
Fabregas's rage was lit.
"Shit!"
Fabregas suddenly charged against Suker.
He even raised his arm.
Suker fell instantly, screaming.
A miserable cry echoed.
Fabregas shouted at Suker furiously.
"Bastard! This is what happens! Keep fighting me, coward!!"
Gattuso and Nesta rushed over.
But Maldini stopped them.
"Calm down!"
Maldini whispered harshly.
Gattuso and Nesta calmed immediately.
Gattuso still argued, applying pressure.
The referee ran over and showed Fabregas a yellow card.
This was a lenient call.
Otherwise, a serious foul could have meant a direct red card.
Suker held his chest, slowly getting up.
Meanwhile, he winked at Gattuso, signaling he was okay.
He feared Gattuso might lose his head and start trouble.
If Suker got a yellow card, maybe Gattuso would get one too.