CHAPTER 503: OLD LADY

"The Renaissance," Mr. Harrison said. "It means rebirth. It was a time when the old world woke up. Art. Science. Culture. It was a bridge between the past and the future."

Alex sat at his desk. He looked at the statue. It was muscular. It looked strong.

"Mr. Finch," Mr. Harrison asked. "Can you tell me where the Renaissance began?"

Alex looked up.

"Italy, Sir," Alex said. "Florence. Then Rome. Then the rest of Europe."

"Correct," Mr. Harrison smiled. "Italy is the home of history. They respect the past. But they also built the future."

Mark sat next to Alex. Mark was wearing a toga made from a white bedsheet. He had a wreath of plastic leaves on his head.

"I AM JULIUS CAESAR!" Mark whispered loudly. "I CAME. I SAW. I CONQUERED. I ATE PIZZA."

"Mark," Mr. Harrison sighed. "Caesar was Roman. The Renaissance came a thousand years later. You are in the wrong time period."

"I am a time traveler!" Mark argued. "I am everywhere at once. Like a midfielder."

"Please take off the toga, Mark," Mr. Harrison said. "It is a fire hazard."

The bell rang.

Alex packed his bag.

Italy.

History.

The past meeting the future.

It was the perfect lesson for today.

Champions League. Group Stage. Matchday 5.

Juventus vs Arsenal.

Turin.

Juventus were known as "The Old Lady". They were the most historic team in Italy. They played with experience. They played with wisdom.

Alex walked out to the car park.

Milo was waiting.

Milo was dressed as... an Opera Singer.

He was wearing a giant black tuxedo with tails. He had a white handkerchief in his pocket. He had drawn a curly mustache on his face.

"FIGARO! FIGARO! FIGARO!" Milo sang. His voice was terrible. It sounded like a cat stuck in a washing machine.

"Milo," Alex said. "Please stop singing. You are scaring the birds."

"I AM THE TENOR!" Milo shouted. "ALEX! I AM SELLING HIGH NOTES! I CAN HIT A NOTE SO HIGH IT BREAKS GLASS! ONLY FIVE POUNDS A SCREAM!"

"We are going to play football, Milo. Not an opera."

"FOOTBALL IS OPERA!" Milo insisted. "IT HAS DRAMA! IT HAS TRAGEDY! IT HAS A FAT MAN SINGING AT THE END! (That is me!)."

They drove to the airport.

Steve, the manager, was waiting on the plane.

"Juventus," Steve said. "They are smart. They are old. They do not run like the English teams. They position themselves. They wait for you to make a mistake."

He looked at the team.

"They will try to slow the game down. They will foul you gently. They will argue with the referee. Do not get frustrated."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. You are young. They will try to teach you a lesson. Show them that the student has become the master."

"I will bring my notebook," Alex said.

Turin. The Allianz Stadium.

It was a modern stadium, but the air felt heavy with history.

The Juventus fans were loud. They sang in deep voices. It sounded like a choir.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Adrien Rabiot stood next to him. The French midfielder. He was tall. He had long hair. He looked like a prince.

"Le Professeur," Rabiot said.

"The Duke," Alex replied.

"You run a lot," Rabiot said. "In Italy, we walk. Walking is more elegant."

"Running gets you to the goal faster," Alex said.

"But do you look good doing it?" Rabiot smiled.

They walked out.

The lights were blinding.

The whistle blew.

The game started.

It was a tactical battle.

Juventus did not press. They sat back. They formed two lines of four. A zebra striped wall.

Arsenal passed the ball.

Tick. Tock.

But there was no space.

Bremer, the Juventus defender, was a rock. He intercepted everything.

In the twentieth minute, Rico tried to dribble past Danilo.

Danilo did not tackle. He just blocked the path. He used his body.

Rico bounced off him.

"Foul!" Rico yelled.

The referee shook his head. "Play on."

Juventus countered.

Chiesa got the ball on the wing. He was fast.

He ran at Ben White.

Chiesa cut inside. He shot.

Ramsdale saved it.

"Wake up!" Ramsdale shouted. "They are sleeping but they are dangerous!"

Alex stood in the midfield.

He analyzed the game.

Problem: The tempo is too slow. Juventus are comfortable.

Solution: Change the rhythm.

Alex got the ball.

He started to walk.

Rabiot watched him. Rabiot walked too.

Alex walked slower.

Rabiot relaxed.

Suddenly, Alex exploded.

He went from zero to one hundred in a second.

He sprinted past Rabiot.

He was in the space.

He saw Mark making a run.

Alex hit a pass.

Mark ran.

Bremer ran with him.

Bremer was strong. He used his shoulder. He pushed Mark wide.

Mark tried to shoot. It hit the side netting.

"He is heavy!" Mark yelled. "He is made of marble!"

Halftime. Zero zero.

It was a stalemate. The Old Lady was teaching them a lesson in patience.

"They are boring you to death," Steve said in the dressing room. "They want you to fall asleep. Then they will stab you."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. Do not play their game. Play your game. Chaos."

"Controlled chaos," Alex nodded.

Second half.

Juventus continued to defend. They were happy with a draw.

Sixtieth minute.

Alex had the ball.

He saw Vlahovic, the Juventus striker, walking back.

Alex ran at him.

He nutmegged Vlahovic.

The crowd gasped. That was disrespectful.

Alex drove forward.

Locatelli came to tackle him.

Alex did a "Ronaldo Chop". He cut the ball behind his leg.

He was past Locatelli.

He was twenty five yards out.

The defense backed off. They protected the box.

"Shoot!" the away fans screamed.

Alex looked at the goal. Szczesny was in goal. He was tall.

Alex did not shoot.

He lifted the ball.

A soft chip.

It went over the defensive line.

It looked like a bad pass. There was nobody there.

But Mark was there.

Mark had started his run from deep. He was invisible.

Mark did not control it.

He jumped.

He did a "Karate Kick".

He hit the ball with the sole of his boot while it was in the air.

The ball flew past Szczesny.

Goal.

One zero. Arsenal.

Mark landed on his back. He jumped up. He did a karate chop at the corner flag.

"HIYAAAA!" Mark screamed. "I AM THE NINJA TURTLE!"

Alex ran over. "The chip worked!"

"I saw it coming!" Mark yelled. "It was like a pizza falling from the sky!"

Juventus were angry. The Old Lady was awake.

They attacked.

Seventy fifth minute.

Chiesa ran down the wing. He crossed.

Vlahovic headed it.

Goal.

One one.

The stadium erupted.

"Focus!" Alex shouted. "Do not let them settle!"

The game became open.

Juventus wanted the win now. They pushed forward.

This was what Alex wanted.

Eighty eighth minute.

Juventus had a corner.

The ball was cleared by Saliba.

It fell to Alex on the edge of the box.

He controlled it.

He looked up.

The pitch was open.

There was only one defender back. Gatti.

And there was Rico.

Rico was on the halfway line.

Alex hit a long pass.

It was perfect. It landed in Rico path.

Rico ran.

He was one on one with Gatti.

Rico did a stepover. Then another. Then another.

Gatti got dizzy. He fell over.

Rico was one on one with Szczesny.

Rico smiled.

He did not shoot.

He rolled the ball sideways.

Alex had run seventy yards. He was there.

"You ran!" Rico laughed.

Alex tapped the ball into the empty net.

Goal.

Two one. Arsenal.

Alex ran to the crowd. He pointed to his watch.

"Timing," Alex shouted.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Juventus 1.

A masterclass in Italy.

Alex walked off the pitch.

Rabiot shook his hand.

"You run too much," Rabiot sighed. "But you win."

"The Renaissance," Alex said. "The future beats the past."

Milo ran onto the pitch. His tuxedo was ripped.

"THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!" Milo screamed. "THE MASK HAS FALLEN! ALEX! I AM SELLING BROKEN GLASS! FROM THE HIGH NOTE! I BROKE A WINDOW! (It was actually Mark kicking a ball, but shhh)."

"Milo, you are a disaster," Alex laughed.

"I AM A DIVA!" Milo yelled.

They walked into the dressing room.

The team was happy. They had beaten the Old Lady in her own house.

Alex sat down. He checked his phone.

A text from Maya.

"Historical analysis: Successful. You defeated a traditional defensive structure with high velocity transitions. Also, Mr. Harrison sent a message. He wants your essay on the Renaissance by Friday. He says conquering Italy does not count as homework."

Alex smiled.

He looked at Mark.

Mark was wearing his toga again. He was eating a slice of pizza.

"Hey Mark," Alex said.

"Yes, Caesar?" Mark replied with his mouth full.

"Did you enjoy the history lesson?"

"I loved it," Mark said. "We came. We saw. We kicked the ball."

"Veni. Vidi. Vici," Alex said.

"Exactly," Mark grinned. "Now, where is the gelato?"