The Day has come, the cup finals, Arsenal versus Chelsea. This is our ultimate chance to show that we are the better team, as I step out onto the pitch; I feel the wind breezing through my head. I gazed to my left; I see a disgust of a man 6 foot a gap between his teeth, his eyes wide open as if they were going to explode. We walked to the center circle, I greeted the referee with a handshake and Chelsea’s captain, that horrible man, and then I shook his hand I felt his sweaty palm oozing onto my skin, then after letting his hand loose I slowly dragged by hand back as we split up and get ready for the match of the century.
The match starts off with the kick off. It was just a back to back attacks but no-one scored. As the manager keeps shouting, “Tactics, Tactics, and Tactics!” Forty-five minutes pass with both teams goalless; the referee blows the whistle beep, beep, and beeeeep! I walked down the Aisle thinking about how I haven’t scored yet.
I tip-toed towards the dressing room. I opened the door and I gazed at the manager, who kept on shouting like an alligator snapping. Then we stepped back on the pitch for the second time but then a dreadful moment happened. Five minutes into the match Chelsea attacker took a long range shot from 35 yards and blasted it past the keeper into the net. The atmosphere breaks into two half’s cheering on the striker as the other plunges into deep sadness.
Ten minutes left of the game, It looked like a definite win for Chelsea But then the keeper blasts the ball… for a second it look like it was flying
