Beep... Beep... Beep
The steady rhythm of the heart monitor echoed through the hospital ward.
Arsène Wenger lay motionless on the bed, an oxygen mask covering his face. The man who had carried Arsenal on his shoulders for decades now looked unusually frail beneath the sterile white lights.
Silence filled the room.
Around the bed stood Arsenal's senior executives, coaching staff, and key club personnel. Among them was chairman Usmanov, his usually composed expression clouded with concern.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
The departure of several important players had already dealt Arsenal a heavy blow during the summer.
Wenger's collapse was something else entirely.
It was a catastrophe.
At the very moment the club needed stability the most, the man who had always been Arsenal's anchor had suddenly fallen.
The doctors' assessment offered little comfort. Wenger was stable, but he needed rest. A significant amount of it.
No one could say exactly when he would return.
Outside the hospital, panic was spreading through the Arsenal fanbase.
Many supporters simply could not imagine Arsenal without Wenger. For years, through triumphs and failures alike, he had been the constant presence guiding the club forward.
Others responded with anger.
And anger always needed a target.
The departing players quickly became the focus of that frustration.
Across North London, jerseys bearing the names of Di Maria, Ramsey, Rosický, Chamberlain, Walcott, and Navas were publicly burned by furious supporters.
Images flooded social media.
Talk shows erupted.
Forums descended into chaos.
Anxiety spread through the Arsenal community like wildfire.
Inside the club, things weren't much better.
There were transfer decisions to make.
Squad vacancies to fill.
A new season is rapidly approaching.
Most importantly, Arsenal suddenly had no manager.
Usmanov remained beside Wenger's bed for several moments before finally turning toward the others.
"The club will cover every expense related to Arsène's treatment," he said firmly.
His voice cut through the silence.
"No matter what happens, Arsenal will do everything possible to ensure he receives the best care available."
The room remained quiet.
Usmanov took a breath before continuing.
"Everyone, return to your duties."
His eyes shifted.
"Pat, stay."
One by one, the others left.
Soon, only Usmanov and Pat Rice remained outside the ward.
Pat glanced through the glass window at Wenger before speaking.
"We need an interim manager."
His voice was low but urgent.
"Until Arsène recovers, someone has to take charge. Training, transfers, preseason preparations, squad planning, all of it. We can't delay."
Usmanov nodded.
"I know."
He folded his arms.
"The problem isn't finding someone."
"It's finding someone who can replace Arsène."
Pat Rice fell silent.
Usmanov continued.
"You know what next season looks like."
"Manchester United are rebuilding."
"Manchester City are spending again."
"Liverpool are improving."
"Tottenham are waiting for their opportunity."
"Chelsea never stops being dangerous."
He looked directly at Pat Rice.
"Who can lead Arsenal against all of them?"
Pat Rice opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
He genuinely had no answer.
Most qualified managers had already signed contracts elsewhere.
Even if Arsenal could lure someone away, there would be no guarantee the dressing room would accept them. A new manager arriving in the middle of a crisis could easily create even more problems.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Usmanov broke the silence.
"I have a candidate."
Pat immediately looked up.
"Who?"
Usmanov stared straight at him.
"You."
Pat Rice froze.
"...What?"
"You."
Usmanov repeated calmly.
"I want you to become Arsenal's interim manager."
Pat Rice pointed at himself as if checking whether someone else was standing behind him.
"Me?"
"You're serious?"
"Completely."
The old man nearly laughed from disbelief.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"I've never managed a club in my life."
"It's only temporary," Usmanov said.
"Temporary?" Patrice exclaimed.
"This is Arsenal, not a Sunday league team."
"You don't just hand Arsenal to someone who's never managed before."
Usmanov remained unmoved.
"Then tell me who else."
Patrice opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
"Exactly."
Usmanov stepped closer.
"Bring in an outsider now, and the dressing room could explode."
"The players trust you."
"The coaching staff trusts you."
"You've been here for years."
"You understand Arsenal better than anyone except Arsène."
Pat Rice rubbed his forehead.
"That doesn't make me manager material."
"It makes you the only realistic option."
Usmanov's voice became firmer.
"You can control the coaching staff."
"You have authority in the dressing room."
"More importantly, Kai respects you."
Pat Rice looked up.
Usmanov continued.
"As long as Kai supports you, the rest of the squad will follow."
"There won't be any conflict between manager and players."
"As for the board, I'll handle that."
"You'll have our full support."
Pat Rice felt his heartbeat accelerating.
Everything was happening too quickly.
For years, he had stood beside Wenger.
Always beside him.
Never in front.
Whenever problems arose, Wenger solved them.
Whenever decisions needed to be made, Wenger made them.
Pat Rice simply supported him.
But now the shield was gone.
And all the responsibility was suddenly falling onto his shoulders.
Usmanov looked him directly in the eye.
"Pat."
"This club needs someone to step forward."
"We are losing players."
"The supporters are panicking."
"The media are circling like vultures."
"We cannot afford uncertainty."
He paused briefly before delivering the final blow.
"The stadium loan?"
"I'll handle it."
"The transfer budget?"
"You'll have access to every available pound."
"If replacements are needed, buy them."
"If reinforcements are needed, get them."
"Money won't be the problem."
"The only question is whether you're willing to do it."
Pat Rice felt dizzy.
His palms were sweating.
His entire life at Arsenal flashed before his eyes.
Never, not once, had he imagined becoming Arsenal manager.
Not even for a day.
"I..."
He swallowed hard.
"I need time to think."
Usmanov raised two fingers.
"Two days."
Pat Rice stared at him.
"In two days, Arsenal will announce its interim manager."
"And that manager will be you."
Pat looked as though he had just been sentenced.
"You're forcing me."
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Usmanov's face.
"Yes."
Then he turned and walked away.
There was no time for further discussion.
The club was already drowning in problems.
Someone had to start putting out fires.
Soon, the corridor became quiet.
Patrice slowly sat down on a nearby chair.
His eyes were blank.
His mind was a complete mess.
After several seconds, he suddenly slapped himself across the mouth.
Smack!
"Idiot!"
Another slap.
Only a few days ago, he had joked about cleaning up Wenger's mess.
Now, Wenger had collapsed.
And the entire mess had landed directly in his lap.
Pat Rice leaned back against the wall and stared helplessly at the ceiling. For the first time in years, he truly understood how much pressure Wenger had carried.
And now that pressure was his.
The question was simple.
How on earth was he supposed to save Arsenal?
. . .
Two days later, Arsenal officially announced that, due to Arsène Wenger's health concerns, Assistant Coach Pat Rice would take over as the club's interim manager for the upcoming season.
The announcement immediately dominated headlines across England.
For Arsenal supporters, the news was both reassuring and unsettling.
Reassuring because Pat Rice was hardly an outsider.
He had spent years working alongside Wenger, helping build the modern Arsenal dynasty from behind the scenes. Players respected him, the coaching staff trusted him, and fans viewed him as one of their own.
Yet doubts still lingered.
Being an assistant manager and being the man in charge were two completely different things.
Could Pat Rice really lead Arsenal through one of the most difficult summers in the club's recent history?
The answer would come soon enough.
Only a few days after taking office, Patrice launched his first transfer operation.
His target was Chelsea goalkeeper Petr Čech.
Following Navas' departure, Arsenal suddenly found themselves short of reliable options between the posts. Finding an experienced replacement became an immediate priority.
The opening offer stood at €8 million.
Chelsea rejected it.
Arsenal returned with improved proposals.
After several rounds of negotiations, the two clubs finally reached an agreement at €10 million.
When the deal was officially announced, Arsenal supporters breathed a sigh of relief.
Čech might no longer be at the absolute peak of his powers, but his quality, leadership, and experience remained unquestionable.
Most importantly, Arsenal had solved a major problem. For a club that had just lost its starting goalkeeper, securing a proven veteran was an excellent piece of business.
Pat Rice wasn't finished.
His next target was Borussia Dortmund striker Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang.
The Gabonese forward had been outstanding in both the Bundesliga and Champions League, combining blistering pace with increasingly clinical finishing.
Pat Rice's intention was obvious. With Di Maria gone and Arsenal lacking explosive speed on the wings, Aubameyang was the perfect candidate to fill the vacancy.
Borussia Dortmund initially showed little interest in negotiating.
They had no desire to lose one of their key attackers.
However, Arsenal's offers kept increasing.
€40 million.
€44 million.
€47 million.
€49 million.
Eventually, Dortmund's resistance began to crack.
After multiple rounds of discussions, the two clubs finally reached an agreement.
Aubameyang was heading to North London. The signing immediately excited Arsenal supporters. At just twenty-six years old, Aubameyang was entering the prime years of his career.
His pace, directness, and ability to attack space seemed tailor-made for Arsenal's attacking system.
Two major signings in quick succession.
For a first-time manager operating under immense pressure, Pat Rice had started surprisingly well.
Yet while Arsenal supporters celebrated the arrivals of Čech and Aubameyang, another concern gradually emerged.
The midfield.
More specifically, the absence of a replacement for Santi Cazorla. The Spaniard's departure had left a massive creative void in the squad.
Fans expected Arsenal to move aggressively in the transfer market.
But days passed.
Then weeks.
Nothing happened.
Patrice appeared completely unconcerned.
No bids.
No negotiations.
No transfer rumors.
It was as if Arsenal had no intention of signing a replacement at all.
Supporters were baffled.
The media repeatedly questioned the club.
But Arsenal remained silent.
Nobody knew what Patrice was planning.
Only those inside the training ground understood.
"Next season, you're my centerpiece."
Pat Rice pointed directly at Le Kai as he spoke.
His tone left no room for discussion.
Le Kai stared at him.
"So that's why you didn't buy another midfielder?"
Patrice nodded.
"Partly."
Then he shook his head.
"More accurately, I don't think we need one."
Kai raised an eyebrow.
Patrice continued.
"Wilshere's condition is excellent. He won't replace Cazorla completely. Nobody can."
"But he doesn't need to."
"He only needs to handle the transitional work."
Patrice crouched beside the tactical board and began moving the magnets.
"In my system, the midfield will revolve around three players."
He pointed at one marker.
"Wilshere."
A second marker.
"Kanté."
Then he tapped the final piece.
"You."
Le Kai looked down at the board.
The positioning immediately caught his attention.
Compared to last season, his role had been pushed significantly forward.
More touches.
More responsibility.
More influence.
Everything would flow through him.
Pat Rice looked up.
"Do you understand now?"
Le Kai sighed.
"You want me to become the team's primary playmaker."
"Not want."
Patrice corrected him immediately.
"I need you to."
He stood up and folded his arms.
"Wenger collapsed, but that doesn't mean his plans disappear with him."
"The transition starts now."
Le Kai rubbed his forehead.
"No room for adjustment?"
Patrice didn't answer.
Le Kai laughed helplessly.
"You're forcing me."
The moment those words left his mouth, Pat Rice exploded.
"And who do you think is forcing me?!"
His sudden outburst startled everyone nearby.
Pat Rice pointed at himself.
"I didn't ask for this job!"
"I went to the hospital as an assistant coach."
He pointed toward the club offices.
"Two days later, I'm the manager of Arsenal!"
"I haven't even figured out half of the problems we're facing."
The more he spoke, the more aggrieved he sounded.
"We lost half the squad."
"The fans are panicking."
"The media are waiting for us to fail."
"Wenger is in a hospital bed."
"And Usmanov dumped everything on me!"
The training ground fell silent.
Even Le Kai struggled to hold back a smile.
Patrice took a deep breath before pointing at him again.
"So yes."
"I'm forcing you."
"I've already pushed all my chips into the middle of the table."
"If this works, we survive together."
He paused.
Then added with a bitter grin.
"And if it doesn't..."
Pat Rice spread his hands.
"We'll go down together."
Kai couldn't help laughing.
For the first time since Wenger's collapse, he suddenly felt much less pressure.
After all, their manager looked even more nervous than the players.
. . .
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