If Cao Baming could integrate into the team earlier, they could have turned their fortunes around in the Premier League sooner!
Perhaps, Cao Baming was truly the future new king of football!
After a clear review of the previous match, the players gained a deeper understanding of their performance. Excitement flashed across their faces, and they couldn't wait to showcase their skills on the field.
When you are in the thick of it, you often cannot see the essence, but the coach, from a bird's-eye view, can instantly discern many details that the players have not even noticed.
At these moments, everyone would look on with admiration.
Cao Baming's current role is essentially that of a game-changer. In future matches, while he might not immediately secure a starting position, his substitute playing time should gradually increase.
More importantly, as he harmonizes with the team during training, it shouldn't take too long for him to become a member of the starting lineup!
After the review, the players moved to the training ground.
The training this week was relatively relaxed. Their next match was against Burnley, a team fighting for survival. For Arsenal, it wouldn't be a difficult game. Even at their lowest point, they had the confidence to win.
Moreover, their current form was gradually improving.
Cao Baming's presence, even off the field, had a significant effect; he boosted the team's morale.
This was the most important thing for a team in a slump.
Upon reaching the training ground, after a simple warm-up, Cao Baming stood in place to rest.
Suddenly, a sense of pressure was felt on his left shoulder.
Nelson had placed his arm over Cao Baming's shoulder from behind.
"How's it going, brother? Can you teach me how to shoot?"
He looked ahead with a sigh. What was bound to happen would eventually happen.
"Alright, then let me show you. You must watch carefully!"
"No problem!"
They both walked to the goal, standing at the edge of the penalty area, a standard shooting distance.
A basket was placed nearby, and Nelson personally set up the ball for Cao Baming.
This position reminded him of the time he outperformed Mbappé during his trial with PSG, and a wave of confidence instantly surged within him.
Nelson, of course, was unaware of this. "Monsieur M" would never allow anyone to leak such information.
He glanced at the ball at his feet, took a deep breath, and executed a clean volley.
With a "bang," the ball shot out like a bayonet, hitting the top right corner of the goal.
Nelson chuckled awkwardly, thinking Cao Baming had miskicked.
Even he could have scored from this distance, especially without a goalkeeper. This shot was a complete miss.
However, on the next two shots, Cao Baming placed the ball in the top left corner and the exact center of the crossbar, respectively.
Only then did Nelson realize that he was aiming for those specific spots!
"Amazing! Can you teach me now?"
Cao Baming turned his head, his eyes radiating a sharp confidence.
"You see, when I shoot, I aim for specific parts of the ball. As the target changes, you have to feel it, and your eyes should always be on the target point, not the ball."
"We have a word in my homeland, Tang Guo, called 'qi.' You need to find the feeling of two different 'qi' within your body colliding. When they are about to meet, suddenly exert force. That's when the power is greatest, and the ball speed is fastest!"
Nelson listened intently, nodding thoughtfully.
"I know, I know! 'Qi,' right? Kung fu, Yin and Yang. Everything from Tang Guo is so powerful!"
Cao Baming nodded calmly. "Yes, you can try it. Find that feeling as I described."
"Okay!"
Nelson stepped up to the ball and took several shots, none of which hit the target. Out of ten attempts, only four hit the crossbar, and not in the spots he intended.
In fact, only one was successful.
"It's okay, this requires practice. You can't learn it instantly. There's an old saying in Tang Guo: 'Haste makes waste.'"
"Oh... I understand... But why does haste make waste?"
Nelson asked.
This completely stumped Cao Baming.
Indeed, why does haste make waste? He couldn't think of a reason for a moment.
How should he explain this to a foreigner?
Just then, a man in black, wearing a hat, appeared outside the field, accompanied by a group of people, including several team executives.
Hearing his name, Arteta immediately turned to look in that direction.
"What the heck? Isn't that?"
Soon, the players training on the field also noticed the figure.
"Is that Henry?" Nelson asked.
Cao Baming also followed his gaze. Despite being over fifty meters away, his excellent eyesight immediately recognized him.
"Holy cow, it really is!"
"Henry is here. What is he doing? Wasn't he supposed to be inviting a divine being? Could he have succeeded already?"
Cao Baming quickly walked towards them, but soon Henry disappeared from view again.
He had only come to the field to find Arteta, and then the group returned to the indoor conference room. What they were discussing was unknown.
As a new recruit, Cao Baming couldn't possibly follow the executives into the conference room to listen to their discussions. He had to obediently return to training.
He turned around and saw that Nelson was already engrossed in shooting practice.
The moment Cao Baming looked, a football precisely hit the center of the crossbar!
"Good job! Much better than Mbappé!"
Cao Baming encouraged him, not intentionally mentioning "Monsieur M."
"What?"
Hearing Mbappé's name, Nelson was startled.
"It's nothing, nothing. Keep practicing!"
The sun was shining brightly on the field. Although it was only early winter and not yet fully over, under the maritime climate of Britain, as long as there was sunshine, the temperature wouldn't be too cold.
Some players were even wearing short sleeves and shorts; yes, that was Cao Baming.
Sunlight streamed in from one side, casting shadows on the field from the stands. Players who had trained on the field for years could determine the time based on the position of these shadow lines.
This afternoon of free training, without any coaches watching, was quite relaxed and pleasant.
In a blink of an eye, it was evening. By this time, the shadows had almost completely covered the grass, and the stadium lights flickered on.
Most of the players had started to rest.
The dim, hazy light of the setting sun pierced through a gap at the top of the stands and fell onto the grass. Every time this moment arrived, everyone felt a sense of ceremony.
On one hand, the scene was too beautiful. The pure sunlight kissing the grass of the field exuded a strong romantic aura.
On the other hand, when this moment arrived, it was also time to pack up and head for dinner!