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Chapter 189: Pay Raise And North London Derby
🕑 Added 2025-10-13 22:00:59 +0000 UTCUsmanov was never one for empty words. Once he made up his mind, he immediately called in the financial department to push through a team-wide salary adjustment.
The purpose was simple — to close unnecessary pay gaps within the squad, especially among the main players. Smaller differences in salary would mean greater unity on the pitch.
In other words, the higher the wage, the smaller the increase.
For example, Suarez’s weekly salary rose slightly from £250,000 to £260,000, while Sagna’s was lifted to £160,000. Across the defensive line, wages now hovered between £150,000 and £170,000 — a fair balance by Premier League standards.
Within the team, Suarez still topped the list, but right behind him were Cazorla and Kai, both earning around £190,000 a week. Even the lowest-paid first-team substitute was close to six figures.
Re-signing all those contracts was no small task, but for the players, this was the kind of paperwork everyone was eager to complete.
Wenger didn’t take any personal credit for the move. In front of the players, he explained that the pay rise came largely thanks to Kai’s efforts and influence within the club.
It was a clever move — one that further strengthened Kai’s standing in the dressing room.
As expected, after this wave of salary adjustments, Kai’s prestige inside Arsenal reached new heights.
After all, who wouldn’t love a captain who brings not just glory, but also better pay?
He might be younger than some of the veterans, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the true leader of Arsenal. Kai had fought for his teammates in every sense — on the pitch, and now off it.
Of course, the raise didn’t apply to everyone. It was meant for players Arsenal saw as part of their future.
Captain Vermaelen, for instance, wasn’t included. His summer departure was already set in motion, and from the current atmosphere, few seemed troubled by it.
Though Vermaelen held the title of captain, his influence was far below Kai’s. The torch had already passed; all that was left was for Kai to lift a trophy to make it official.
With renewed motivation — and fuller wallets — Arsenal’s training sessions became more intense than ever.
...
They soon faced the 30th round of the league on the 16th of March: the North London Derby. Arsenal was set to visit White Hart Lane.
Tottenham, sitting sixth with 54 points, were clinging to faint European hopes. With eight rounds remaining, catching fourth-placed Manchester City seemed nearly impossible — an eight-point gap was a mountain to climb.
Defensively solid but offensively toothless, Spurs knew that pushing too hard could backfire. Still, pride demanded they fight. Even if they couldn’t reach the Champions League, they were determined not to watch Arsenal celebrate a title.
And so, the slogan rang out across White Hart Lane: “Stop Arsenal!”
But reality hit hard.
Bang!
Tottenham cleared the ball desperately. Eriksen sprinted toward the drop zone — but was immediately bumped aside by a familiar figure.
He stumbled, caught his balance, and went again. The ball bounced loose, and once more Kai stepped in, sliding his body between Eriksen and the ball like a wall of steel. No matter how much Eriksen pushed, he couldn’t get through.
By the time Kai slipped the ball to Cazorla, the Dane could only shake his head in frustration.
It was his first season in England, and he hadn’t played in the previous North London Derby. His recent performances had earned him a start, but against someone like Kai — a relentless ball-winning machine — Eriksen looked lost.
Tottenham’s midfield confusion began to spread like a virus across the pitch.
With Kai orchestrating interceptions and distributing the ball cleanly, Arsenal’s structure was smooth and efficient. They moved like a disciplined unit — patient, organized, and lethal when the moment came.
And when eleven players are moving with a single rhythm, there’s little any opponent can do.
Whoosh!
The ball sliced through the air and into Tottenham’s net.
Martin Taylor’s voice rose over the roar of the stadium:
“Cazorla with the breakthrough! Twenty-three minutes in, and Arsenal draw first blood here at White Hart Lane!”
Alan Smith added with a grin, “It’s classic Arsenal — controlled buildup, perfect timing, and that final touch of class from Cazorla. Tottenham have barely had a sniff so far.”
Cazorla didn’t even try to hide his joy after scoring.
Facing a wall of furious boos from Tottenham supporters, he grinned, spread his arms wide, and began to taunt the stands.
“Didn’t you lot say you’d stop us from winning the title? Go on then—try it!”
That, of course, only made the boos even louder. Debris soon was raining down.
Kai jogged over and gave Cazorla a light pat on the head.
Under normal circumstances, he would’ve stopped anyone from provoking the home crowd. But this was Tottenham. For this rivalry, the rulebook didn’t apply.
Between Arsenal and Spurs, there was no room for politeness — only pride. Even if Kai had told him to calm down, Tottenham fans would’ve just mocked him for acting sanctimonious.
And Kai wasn’t about to give them that satisfaction.
After taking the lead, Arsenal’s midfield press tightened like a vice. Tottenham’s rhythm fell apart completely, and Eriksen, in particular, looked overwhelmed.
Martin Taylor’s voice echoed through Sky Sports:
“Eriksen’s really struggling here, Alan. He’s barely had a moment on the ball, and every time he looks up, Kai’s already on top of him!”
Alan Smith nodded. “That’s the Premier League for you. Back at Ajax, Eriksen had all the time in the world. Here, he’s got about half a second before someone like Kai’s breathing down his neck. It’s a brutal learning curve.”
Eriksen had been a star in the Eredivisie — creative, composed, and dangerous in possession. But the physicality and pace of the Premier League were exposing every gap in his adaptation.
Every time he tried to dribble or look for space, Kai was there — pressing, tackling, forcing errors.
Martin Taylor added, “Kai’s performance is just relentless. You kind of feel sorry for Eriksen for being thrown into the deep end in his first North London Derby.”
Indeed, Arsenal’s structure was holding firm. Kai even found time to join the attack — spraying long passes, threading through balls, and dictating the tempo.
With Cazorla drifting between lines like a shadow, Tottenham were being pulled apart piece by piece.
The ball was worked patiently around the edge of Tottenham’s box. Every Arsenal attack now made Spurs fans hold their breath.
Cazorla skipped past Danny Rose on the flank and squared it to Suarez inside the box.
Suarez twisted and turned, but hesitated just a fraction too long. Surrounded, he calmly rolled the ball back to Walcott, who switched play to the opposite wing.
Walcott’s cross found Kai, positioned perfectly at the top of the area.
He took a steady first touch, lifted his head, and scanned the defense.
Vertonghen edged forward to press — but that was exactly what Kai wanted.
With a quick flick of his foot, he scooped the ball over Vertonghen’s head — a delicate lob that arced perfectly into space behind the defender.
Cazorla read it instantly.
He burst forward, brushed past Rose again, and chested the ball down mid-sprint. One deft touch with his left foot — and bang!
The ball curled low and fast into the near corner.
Lloris didn’t even dive.
Martin Taylor shouted over the noise, “Cazorla again! Brilliant movement, clinical finish — and what about that lob from Kai? Pure vision!”
Alan Smith laughed, “That’s footballing poetry, Martin. Cazorla’s having the game of his life. Arsenal two up, and Tottenham look shell-shocked.”
The scoreboard at White Hart Lane read:
Tottenham Hotspur 0 – 2 Arsenal (43’ Cazorla)
And the Arsenal fans in the away end erupted, their chants drowning out the groans of the home crowd.
