Chapter 149: The High-Level Game Toward Elite Clubs! The Premier League Is Truly Terrifying!
Fielding a depleted lineup, Manchester United was no match for Bayswater Chinese.
In the 35th minute of the first half, Bayswater launched another dangerous attack.
Maicon whipped in a cross from the right flank, lofting it into the box.
Vidic beat Džeko to it and headed it out of the box.
But Bayswater Chinese immediately pressed high on the rebound, forcing United to push the ball out to the right side.
Just as Gary Neville got the ball under control, Gareth Bale pounced and snatched it away.
After stealing the ball, Bale drove toward the byline and whipped in a low cross.
Džeko, who hadn't reached the previous ball, charged between Ferdinand and Vidic, sliding in to tap it home.
2–0!
And that wasn't all.
Just five minutes later, Gareth Bale again tore past Gary Neville down the left, burst into the box, chipped over Ferdinand, beat Van der Sar, but in the final shot, his right foot lacked power.
Vidic, sprinting back, cleared it right off the line.
The Welsh youngster collapsed to the turf in frustration, clutching his head.
Everything up to the finish had been brilliant—but the final touch? Not so much.
The half ended 2–0.
…
In the second half, Bayswater continued to dominate.
Bale was especially active on the left flank.
In the 48th minute, he tried to dribble past Gary Neville but was fouled just outside the box—left side, close to the edge of the penalty area.
It was too sharp an angle for a direct shot, so Leighton Baines stepped up to take it.
Bale moved into the box, ready to attack the delivery.
Baines took it quickly.
United was ready—Van der Sar rushed out and punched it away before it could find a target.
Gianni Vio might be a genius with set pieces, but they didn't work every time.
The ball bounced to the top of the box.
Rakitić chested it down. Seeing Van der Sar off his line, he let fly from 20 meters out.
It was a rocket—but just a bit high.
It smashed off the crossbar and rebounded back.
Chaos erupted in the box.
Before anyone could react, Gareth Bale leapt up and headed the ball in at close range.
The Welshman turned and sprinted toward the touchline in celebration.
Wembley Stadium erupted again.
3–0!
…
Yang Cheng stood on the sideline, smiling as he applauded the team's performance.
"Three years of development—finally blooming!"
Watching Bale sprint across the pitch, Yang Cheng felt a swell of pride.
Both Gareth Bale and Theo Walcott were players he had targeted as early as 2005.
As local British talents, they had massive appeal to the home crowd.
More importantly, both had the potential to become world-class stars.
"I'm starting to feel it—we might really have a shot this season," Brian Kidd said, grinning ear to ear.
This group of players—many raised through Bayswater's academy—
if they truly broke out, their impact would rival United's famed Class of '92.
In today's hyperconnected world, their global influence might even surpass them.
"So I still don't get it," Yang Cheng laughed. "Why do those media outlets keep underestimating us?"
Brian Kidd chuckled too.
Of course they both knew the answer.
The media always loved building up and tearing down.
After selling three key players, Bayswater Chinese obviously looked weaker on paper.
If the press didn't write doom pieces, they'd lose clicks and headlines.
"Owen won the Golden Boot at 18, Ballon d'Or at 22.
Bale and Walcott are already 19—bit late, huh?"
Yang Cheng said it half-jokingly, but there was obvious fondness in his tone.
These two had been under his care for three years.
They were now part of the core for Bayswater's next chapter.
They had both made great strides last season.
This year, they were destined to rise even higher.
Only injury or their own mental blocks could stop them.
That's why Yang Cheng placed great emphasis on injury prevention.
He poured resources into sports science and medical care.
Bale and Walcott were obedient too.
They never slacked in training or gym work.
They strictly followed their nutrition plans.
Most importantly, they had no bad habits.
In Yang Cheng's past life, many fans blamed Bale's frequent injuries at Real Madrid on excessive muscle gains.
But that wasn't true.
Proper muscle development could help prevent injury.
Overdoing it could make movements rigid—but that was just a matter of balance.
Just look at Cristiano Ronaldo.
Massive muscles, perfect biomechanics, rarely injured.
In fact, Bale had been injury-prone before he joined Real Madrid.
From 2007 (when he joined Spurs) to 2013, he suffered 30 injuries.
He started brilliantly—scoring in his first two games, with 2 goals and 1 assist.
But that form was cut short by injuries.
First a foot injury.
Then in December, a horror tackle by Martin Taylor (yes, the same one who shattered Eduardo da Silva's leg in February).
Taylor had first injured Bale's ankle ligaments, sidelining him for over half a year.
That's why Yang Cheng once hoped Taylor would be banned for life.
The guy was a repeat offender.
After that, Bale never escaped injury again.
Herniated discs, knee problems, ankle sprains, hamstring pulls…
And it wasn't just the nature of his game.
It wasn't just bad luck.
To Yang Cheng, it was all preventable.
For example, Bale's herniated disc?
Result of long-term overuse.
He'd had a bad back for years.
But in England, there was a macho culture of playing through minor injuries.
So Bale played through it—until it became chronic.
By the time he developed lumbar muscle degeneration, it was too late.
Yang Cheng remembered that in January 2011, after Bale limped off with another back issue,
Redknapp said Tottenham's medical team couldn't identify the problem.
Why not?
Easy.
Just take a look at Tottenham's joke of a training facility.
Chelsea once made Drogba, Crespo, and Shevchenko train in a shabby warehouse near Heathrow.
Spurs weren't much better.
Poor infrastructure, outdated medical practices, unscientific training culture—
That's what turned Bale into glass.
But now, at Bayswater Chinese?
None of that would happen again.
Yang Cheng's focus on medical care, his investment in both software and hardware, and the emphasis on player protection had made Bayswater Chinese one of the least injury-prone teams in the Premier League—and all of Europe.
Gareth Bale was now playing like a man possessed, showing no signs whatsoever of his previous fragility.
And that only made Yang Cheng even more confident in his future.
In fact, in many ways, the progress of Di María, Bale, and Walcott would determine just how far Bayswater Chinese could go this season.
…
Bayswater Chinese defeated Manchester United 3–0 to win the Community Shield!
Gareth Bale was named Man of the Match.
After the game, Ferguson didn't show the slightest frustration over the loss—on the contrary, he sought out Yang Cheng for a friendly chat.
That old fox was clearly up to something, as if Yang Cheng couldn't see right through him.
At the end of the day, Cristiano Ronaldo was still going to leave.
He and Ferguson had agreed: one more year at United, then if a good offer came, they'd let him go.
So Ferguson had already started scouting replacements.
Bayswater Chinese's two wingers were obvious candidates—both British, both incredibly talented, and both with world-class potential.
Right up Ferguson's alley.
But this time, Yang Cheng played it cold.
Because he really didn't want to sell.
No amount of money would be enough.
More importantly, Yang Cheng was convinced this season's tactical system had tremendous potential.
Its origins were somewhat reminiscent of Ancelotti's Christmas Tree at Milan—
but Bayswater Chinese played with far less caution.
Their pressing zone was focused near midfield,
giving the attackers more space while keeping the defense solid.
"Sir, you'd better make sure United runs faster this season," Yang Cheng said, half-joking.
But also serious.
Ferguson blinked. That was a strange comment.
Then Yang Cheng followed it up.
"Don't fall too far behind us—we might leave you in the dust."
Same joking tone, but it carried incredible confidence.
Like he'd been waiting for this moment a long time.
Ferguson's eyes lit up.
The stronger the opponent, the more excited the Scot became.
"You know, in 22 years of managing United, no one has ever talked to me like that!" he declared, voice brimming with fire.
Yang Cheng laughed. "That was then, Sir. Like you said—times have changed. The Premier League isn't the same anymore."
"Well then, I'll be waiting for you at Old Trafford."
Ferguson gave him a classic "let's see what you've got" look and walked away.
Originally, Bayswater Chinese were scheduled to visit Old Trafford in the final match of August.
But before that, their second league match would be against Arsenal.
However, since Bayswater Chinese were also playing in the UEFA Super Cup, there was a fixture clash.
That match would be postponed, date TBD.
…
After the Community Shield, six days remained until the Premier League season kicked off.
Besides addressing tactical weaknesses exposed in recent weeks, Yang Cheng also held a special meeting at Bayswater's main office.
The club had recently moved offices—renting an entire building nearby.
And only after the move did everyone realize—Bayswater Chinese had become a huge operation.
Just the front office uniformed staff—excluding Brent Training Center and satellite academy employees—already numbered over 200.
And the number kept growing.
Case in point: when Yang Cheng arrived, he met a new department head.
The High-End Client Services Division.
A brand-new department established by Adam Crozier—and its director's resume was stunning:
Former marketing director of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in London, with over 20 years of global luxury hospitality experience.
And that wasn't all—Crozier had also poached the executive head chef of The Langham London.
The Langham was known for its afternoon tea and gourmet restaurants.
Besides them, the division had hired several more people:
Hotel lobby managersProfessional butlersLuxury auto brand client managers (Rolls-Royce, Bentley)And, shockingly, even the sales director of Maybach London.
"Dude, Mercedes sponsors us, sends us cars every year and gives us money—and you stole their sales director…"
Yang Cheng couldn't help but burst into laughter.
This was beyond ridiculous!
"You run a football club, not a luxury car dealership!"
Hiring top chefs and hotel experts was understandable—
private suites needed top-tier hospitality.
But car salespeople?
Xia Qing smiled quietly beside him—she clearly knew what was going on.
Crozier had already explained it to her.
"The truth is, not just the Premier League, but all of European football is terrible at high-end client service," Crozier said, clearly frustrated.
"Go on," Yang Cheng urged.
"I pulled some strings, went to a match at the Emirates, used their VIP suite entrance… and guess what happened?"
Yang Cheng shook his head.
"Arsenal's VIP boxes cost upwards of £60,000 a year.
Their parking? Not included.
Worst part? No designated driver waiting area."
"What, they think all these VIP clients drive themselves to the game?"
"In a high-end hotel, you've got guest lounges, driver lounges, refreshments, sometimes even car detailing in the underground garage."
Yang Cheng nodded, now intrigued.
These seemed like small details—but they mattered a lot.
What defined luxury?
It was 24/7, 360-degree, seamless service.
That led to an amusing question:
Where do Rolls-Royce and Bentley owners wash their cars?
"I think our new stadium sits on one of the most prestigious pieces of land in the world.
We're going to host some of the world's most prestigious clients.
So we have to offer the most prestigious services."
"To these clients, it's not about whether a suite costs £60,000 or £100,000.
They care about emotional value, about the experience."
"That's why we brought in the best professionals.
No one understands high-end expectations better than the marketing director of the Mandarin Oriental.
No one knows luxury dining better than the Langham's executive chef."
Yang Cheng nodded.
Crozier was absolutely right.
"Keep going," he said.
"I believe our suite pricing should start at no less than £100,000," Crozier continued.
"And we'll offer a range of value-added services: private transport, hotel bookings, restaurant reservations, flights…"
"Actually, we should adopt Rolls-Royce's 'front-end and back-end' service model."
"'Front-end' means personalized customization—tailoring every detail to the client.
Private suite layout, décor, function—especially appealing for corporate clients."
"'Back-end' refers to after-sales service.
When they purchase a suite, we provide a complete suite of elite client care—from pre-match to post-match."
Yang Cheng smiled.
It was extravagant.
It was ambitious.
It was exactly what Bayswater Chinese needed to do to become a truly global football powerhouse.
"For example, a dedicated butler, a dedicated VIP service advisor, personal attendants, and so on."
"We need to reach the point where, the moment our client even thinks about watching a match—no, even before that thought is fully formed—we've already got everything prepared. From leaving home to returning, we take care of it all!"
As for luxury transfers, private entrances, and exclusive elevators—those were just the baseline.
And the services Adam Crozier was describing? Of course, they wouldn't all be included in the box suite fees—they'd be part of a premium à la carte menu, billed separately.
But for these high-net-worth individuals, money wasn't a problem.
They booked these suites not to save money, but for high-end, seamless service.
As long as you served them well, price didn't matter.
And why did they poach sales executives from Rolls-Royce and Bentley?
Simple.
How do these high-end clients even hear about or purchase a luxury stadium suite?
You can't rely on regular ticketing staff. Not even someone selling Mercedes, BMW, or even Porsche can sell Rolls-Royce or Bentley properly.
"How do most clubs—from Manchester United to Arsenal, even Madrid and Barcelona—sell their boxes?" Adam Crozier asked, clearly unimpressed.
"Most rely on old client lists built over the years, or whoever comes knocking."
"As a result, their boxes are terribly undersold, and they can't command premium prices."
Yang Cheng chuckled, then leaned forward curiously. "So how do Rolls-Royce and Bentley attract new customers?"
He genuinely didn't know.
It's not like those people just wandered into a dealership.
And they only have a few showrooms anyway.
"Tasting events, private salons, elite business forums, ultra-luxury hotels," Crozier replied.
"These clients don't walk in off the street. You go to them."
"And you can't send just anyone. A typical salesperson won't cut it."
Yang Cheng understood immediately.
Sending a mid-level Benz salesperson to pitch a Rolls-Royce?
Completely useless. That script doesn't work on billionaires.
To sell to these people, you have to resonate emotionally.
And ordinary salespeople? Can't do it.
You need the best of the best.
Crozier explained that brands like Rolls-Royce, Bentley, and Maybach use direct-sale models to maintain privacy and ensure exclusive service.
It's like a game, he said.
The whales—your mega-spenders—want total control and indulgence. The sales team are like personal concierge GMs.
Apply that to football?
If your service is exceptional, maybe one of them casually decides to become a club sponsor.
And the most important part? These clients really don't care about money.
Take Rolls-Royce's umbrellas, for instance—custom-made, not for sale to the public, and absurdly expensive.
Yang Cheng now fully understood.
From Crozier's vision, the current hires were just the first phase.
Once the new stadium opened, the High-End Client Services Department would need to expand significantly.
One client, multiple service agents.
In short—anything allowed by regulation, we'll provide.
Naturally, better service equals higher prices.
£100,000 per box would just be the starting point.
Crozier even mentioned the Veblen effect from sales psychology.
"The higher the price tag, the more attractive it becomes to the target consumer."
"Everyone has a desire for indulgent spending."
"But that also means—if we sell it for more, we need to offer more, serve better, deliver higher quality. And if we do, they'll be satisfied, and sales will take off."
"That's how we attract customers who were spending elsewhere. It's a decapitation strategy."
"Once that happens, our stadium will become London's, no, Europe's, no—the world's premier venue for high-end corporate events."
Yang Cheng was pumped.
It was a bold, inspiring vision.
If they pulled it off, Bayswater Chinese wouldn't just own a football stadium—
they'd own a landmark.
Wouldn't those four adjacent buildings naturally attract luxury hotels, premium retail, and more?
Would box sales ever be a problem again?
Of course not. There'd be more demand than supply.
And other major events—business conferences, concerts—would surely follow.
This is how a global landmark is born.
Once you've captured the mindshare of the ultra-wealthy, the money flows like water.
And the club's brand? It would skyrocket.
High-end sponsors would come flooding in. The rates would go through the roof.
Yang Cheng never doubted Crozier's plan—
because this was London.
The world's second-largest financial hub. A true global city.
London doesn't lack money.
Wealthy people from all over the world gather here.
This kind of elite game?
United, City, Chelsea, Arsenal, Spurs—even Madrid and Barça—can't play it.
Only Bayswater Chinese could.
Because only Yang Cheng had prime real estate in central London.
And if they kept winning, this club could become the most elite powerhouse in world football.
The thought made Yang Cheng's heart race.
"Let's do it!"
He made the decision on the spot.
"Adam, I'm giving you full authority over this. Go all in."
"Whatever you need—money, staff—we'll back you all the way!"
Next to him, Xia Qing hesitated for a second… then said nothing.
Gege… where do we even have money right now?
But since Yang Cheng had given the green light, she'd just have to find a way.
Money can always be squeezed out.
…
August 16, afternoon. Premier League Matchday One: Bayswater Chinese vs. Hull City (away).
In the early kickoff, Wenger's Arsenal edged West Bromwich Albion 1–0 thanks to a goal from new signing Nasri.
The Baggies actually played quite well—creating several chances.
At one point, they even rattled Gallas with their pressure.
In the post-match press conference, Wenger said,
"I thought they'd collapse at some point—but they didn't.
And they didn't play dirty at all."
Clearly, last season's crackdown on Martin Taylor's horror tackles had sent a strong message.
The Baggies' performance gave fellow promoted side Hull City hope ahead of their historic match.
This was the first top-flight match in Hull's 104-year history.
Their signature tiger-striped yellow and black kits matched their nickname: The Tigers.
KC Stadium only held 25,586 people,
but that afternoon, it packed in over 26,000.
For a town of only 25,000 residents, that was massive.
Head coach Phil Brown, a former Bolton player, had worked under Allardyce and Colin Todd as an assistant.
In 2005, he took over Derby County—but didn't survive the winter break.
In October 2006, Phil Brown joined Hull City as assistant to head coach Phil Parkinson.
When Parkinson was sacked in December, Brown took over and led the club to its historic promotion to the Premier League.
Now, at 49 years old, Phil Brown was full of ambition, determined to make Hull a team that could stay in the top flight.
When it came to Bayswater Chinese, he took no chances.
From preseason onwards, he'd been preparing meticulously for this match—stressing above all the importance of fighting spirit.
"Today's match will show you what kind of spirit a club really has!"
…
Hull City marched onto the pitch fired up, but Bayswater Chinese weren't lacking in fire either.
Fresh off a 3–0 win over Manchester United in the Community Shield, Yang Cheng's team arrived at Kingston Communications Stadium brimming with intensity.
Yang Cheng's impression of Phil Brown boiled down to one thing:
A true disciple of Sam Allardyce.
What did that mean?
The old Bolton model.
Hull had signed nine players over the summer, but only two required transfer fees.
They paid £1 million to Middlesbrough for George Boateng,
and £2.5 million to Championship side Plymouth for Hungarian midfielder Halmosi.
The rest were free transfers or loans—most of them veterans.
The most high-profile signing?
Giovanni, a Brazilian midfielder who had played for both Barça and Man City.
So, Hull lined up in a 4-2-3-1—a formation that maximized the impact of their No.10.
Up front was former Leeds striker Caleb Folan.
The 4-2-3-1 was versatile. You could play counterattack, possession, high pressing—whatever suited the occasion.
Clearly, Phil Brown hoped to steal a result at home with this system.
Against Bayswater Chinese, a draw would feel like a win.
And before kickoff, when he came over to shake Yang Cheng's hand, the confidence on his face was impossible to miss.
"Looks like he hasn't realized how brutal the Premier League can be yet,"
Yang Cheng said, smiling as he sent Brown on his way.
Brian Kidd glanced at Brown's back, silently wishing him luck.
Poor guy. He's about to walk straight into Bayswater's buzzsaw.
…
With referee Mike Jones blowing the opening whistle, and 26,000 fans roaring in the stands,
Hull City's first-ever Premier League match officially began.
What greeted them, however, was a ruthless flurry of punches from their opponent.
Bayswater Chinese came out with their trademark blitzkrieg press.
The front three of Bale, Džeko, and Walcott led the charge, with the entire team surging forward.
Midfield trio: Rakitić, Yaya Touré, Modrić.
Backline: Baines, Thiago Silva, Pepe, Maicon.
All three lines pressed high.
Hull lasted barely three minutes.
Walcott broke down the right and won a corner.
Modrić whipped it into the near post.
Under pressure from Pepe, Hull's right-back Ricketts accidentally headed the ball into his own net.
Own goal! 1–0!
Bayswater Chinese took the lead.
Everyone in the stadium was stunned.
Even Yang Cheng was a bit surprised.
First goal of the new season—and it's an own goal?
At Kingston Communications Stadium, the home crowd buzzed in confusion.
Was that Hull's first-ever Premier League goal?
Or their first-ever Premier League concession?
The blow was devastating.
This was supposed to be a historic moment.
Instead, it turned into a nightmare.
Even Phil Brown was on the sidelines, screaming in frustration.
And just when Hull thought it couldn't get worse,
Bayswater Chinese kept attacking.
Only 9 minutes later, they broke through again.
After a turnover in defense, the ball reached midfield.
Džeko dropped back, chested it down, turned, and delivered a perfect through ball behind the defense.
Walcott, like a bolt of lightning, raced past everyone, broke through one-on-one,
and calmly slotted past the keeper.
2–0!
Walcott jumped with joy.
Hull City?
Utterly lost.
Phil Brown signaled the team to retreat and tighten up, just to stop the bleeding.
After two goals, Bayswater slowed the pace, focusing on possession and conserving energy.
But in the 31st minute, Modrić threaded a brilliant pass to Džeko at the top of the box.
The Bosnian striker trapped the ball, faked out his marker, and smashed it home.
3–0!
The entire stadium was stunned.
Is the Premier League really this terrifying?
They hadn't even settled—and they were already three goals down.
Phil Brown was panicking.
All he could do was yell: "Defend! Defend! Just defend!"
Forget equalizers. Forget goals.
He just wanted the match to end.
…
Second half.
Hull shored things up.
They brought on Bernard Mendy for Richard Garcia, moving to a more defensive shape.
That finally brought some order to the chaos.
But in the 63rd minute, Walcott lit it up again.
On the right flank, he pulled off a stunning push-and-run move, blowing past left-back Andy Dawson.
He reached the byline and whipped in a low cross.
Džeko arrived on cue and tapped it in.
4–0!
A brace for Džeko!
Fun fact—Andy Dawson was the older brother of England international Michael Dawson.
Just five minutes later, Yaya Touré carried the ball forward and floated a lovely ball into space on the left.
Gareth Bale raced in from the wing, outran everyone, dribbled past the goalkeeper Myhill, and slotted into an empty net.
5–0!
The Kingston stadium fell deathly silent.
And there were still over 20 minutes left.
That's when Hull realized:
The Premier League was a different beast.
And they were completely unprepared.
To be shredded 5–0 at home in your debut match?
Unthinkable.
After going 5–0 up, Bayswater began rotating—bringing on three young players.
But their attacking momentum never dipped.
They stayed in control, kept creating chances, kept hammering Hull.
The hosts were on the brink of collapse.
They had dominated the Championship—but now?
They were getting destroyed.
They'd seen West Brom nearly draw at Arsenal, and had hoped they could manage something too.
They were wrong. So very wrong.
…
After Matchday One of the new Premier League season,
there were winners and losers.
Bayswater Chinese demolished newly promoted Hull City 5–0 away from home.
Front three Bale, Džeko, and Walcott scored four goals between them.
Džeko's brace showed just how clinical he was to start the season.
Yang Cheng had nothing but praise for his striker in the post-match interview.
"I believe he'll be one of the strongest contenders for the Premier League Golden Boot this season!"
As for the two young stars, Gareth Bale and Theo Walcott, Yang Cheng didn't hold back his praise either.
The British media had already begun hyping them up.
After all, they were homegrown, young, and in excellent form—earning widespread acclaim.
Chelsea, meanwhile, had crushed Portsmouth 4–0 at home.
Deco scored in his debut, and new manager Luiz Felipe Scolari made an immediate impression—delivering on his promise to play attacking football.
The English press was thrilled.
The biggest shock of the round came from Manchester United, who were held 1–1 at Old Trafford by Newcastle.
With Cristiano Ronaldo out, and Rooney not yet back to form, United's attack lacked its usual bite.
Last season, their front three had accounted for the majority of their goals.
Now, with the new season just underway, their offensive struggles were already apparent.
Some media outlets speculated that the drop-off wasn't just due to personnel issues.
A major factor was that Ferguson's assistant, Carlos Queiroz, had left to coach Portugal.
He was replaced by Mike Phelan—but Phelan clearly wasn't up to the task of running Queiroz's tactical system.
In recent years, Ferguson had gradually stepped away from hands-on training and tactics.
Everyone knew he was increasingly absorbed by off-field commitments—horse racing, social events, charity functions, banquets…
Most of the footballing details had been delegated to Queiroz.
He was essentially United's project manager—implementing continental-style tactical reforms and overseeing key signings like Ronaldo, Nani, and Anderson.
Ferguson had even called bringing Queiroz to United one of the best decisions of his career.
Aside from training and tactics, Queiroz had also been the glue in the dressing room.
He spoke Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, French, and English, and could communicate with every foreign player.
After Park Ji-sung joined, he even picked up a bit of Korean.
Back in July, Ferguson had said he would retire within three years, and that Queiroz was his ideal successor.
That was seen as a last-ditch attempt to keep him.
But in the end, Queiroz chose to leave.
And now, everyone was worried about United this season.
…
One week later, Matchday 2.
Bayswater Chinese hosted Arsenal in a London Derby.
Before the match, the club announced it had sold over 65,000 season tickets this year.
A new record.
Adam Crozier confidently predicted the average Wembley attendance would exceed 75,000 this season—well beyond expectations.
The opening match drew over 85,000 fans.
Wenger lined up in his usual 4-4-2:
GK: Hugo Lloris
DEF: Clichy, Gallas, Kolo Touré, Sagna
MID: Arshavin, Muntari, Fàbregas, Nasri
FW: Van Persie, Benzema
On paper it was 4-4-2, but in possession, Nasri and Arshavin pushed high and often drifted into the half-spaces.
After an active summer window, Wenger was still tweaking his lineup and tactics.
They hadn't looked great in their opener.
As this match began, Arsenal tried to control possession.
But Bayswater Chinese capitalized on their home-field advantage and struck first.
The first big moment came in the 7th minute—a powerful long-range shot from Gareth Bale just outside the left corner of the penalty area.
Lloris was forced into a desperate save.
In the 12th minute, Van Persie slipped a beautiful through ball to Benzema, whose shot from the edge of the box flew just wide.
Two minutes later, Yaya Touré made a late run and fired from distance—just over the bar.
Both sides came out attacking.
Wenger, having survived Bayswater's early press, tried to mount a counterattack.
Last season, this approach had given Bayswater real trouble.
But Yang Cheng had learned his lesson.
In the 20th minute, Arsenal pushed forward—and Bayswater struck on the counter.
Maicon surged up the right and played a sharp through ball.
Walcott, lightning-quick, blew past Clichy.
But instead of dribbling, he launched a perfect diagonal long pass to the left.
Bale flew forward, caught the ball in stride, and used his speed to power past Kolo Touré.
He reached the left side of the box and squared it across goal.
Džeko arrived on cue and calmly slotted it past Lloris from the penalty spot.
Wembley erupted—a thunderous roar from 85,000 fans.
1–0!
Wenger stood on the touchline, dumbfounded.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
"How long was that attack?" he asked assistant Pat Rice, eyes wide.
"From Pepe's interception to Maicon's pass to the goal? Eleven seconds."
11 seconds!
Wenger's brain short-circuited.
He knew Bayswater was fast—but this fast?
Pat Rice nodded.
"Their transitions after the opening blitz are different now. Their flanks… it's like they're flying."
Wenger agreed.
Walcott and Bale were terrifying.
And Walcott's diagonal pass had been inch-perfect—hitting Bale in stride and unlocking his full pace.
It reminded Wenger of Beckham.
"That damn Yang Cheng bastard—is he done with his passing-and-possession game now?"
Wenger muttered, unable to hold back a curse.
But who could give him an answer?
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