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My uncle is Filippo Inzaghi

this is fanfic is not mine i just translated it so i can atleast try to make it readable My uncle is Inzaghi 我的舅舅是因扎吉 Author: MrMu_Mu_Mu_A In 2012, Louis Dupont, a 17-year-old football prodigy at AC Milan's youth academy, faces a sudden and alarming growth spurt, causing him to lose his speed and agility. Amid fears of gigantism and the potential end of his career, Louis discovers a mysterious [Football Bond System] that enhances his abilities. With guidance from his uncle, renowned coach Filippo Inzaghi, and the support of his father, Jean, Louis embarks on a journey to adapt to his new body and transform into a goal-scoring forward, all while navigating the challenges of youth, health, and family legacy.

ilovefanfics · Celebrities
Not enough ratings
60 Chs

Silence at White Hart Lane

"Come and watch Louis try a long shot! Where did you aim? This shot may have reached the third floor of the stands," commentator Andy Gray exclaimed.

Realizing he might have been a little mean to a seventeen-year-old player, he quickly added, "But the ground is too soft. Maybe Louis lost his footing and slipped."

"Pfft," laughed Richard Hurst, a reporter from the North London Evening News. "Did you see that? This kid is just at this level. He got lucky when he scored a few goals before. What an opportunist, a lucky guy."

His contempt for Louis was clear. Arsenal-supporting reporters looked a bit uneasy.

"It's just that the pitch is too slippery," one of them offered.

"Ha," Richard Hurst sneered exaggeratedly. "Whether it's slippery or not, he doesn't have that long-range shooting ability. He's never scored from outside the penalty area. The statistics don't lie. He might be the new Inzaghi to some, but this is a new era. In this era, players with such limited skill sets can't compete!"

No one wanted to argue further. For a moment, the Arsenal supporters in the press box couldn't find a good rebuttal and stayed silent. Richard Hurst wore a victor's smile, continuing to focus on the field, ready to criticize Louis again. He even thought of a headline for his post-game report: *"A Flash in the Pan: Opportunist, Not Genius."*

Just thinking about the attention and traffic this story could generate, and the blow it would deal to Arsenal's morale, made Richard Hurst's smile even brighter.

"Are you okay?" Arteta asked, rushing over to help Louis up.

Louis looked at the hole he had dug with his left foot and shook his head regretfully. "It's okay, I just slipped." Then he gave a thumbs-up to Podolski for the pass and looked at Tottenham's two centre-backs. "They looked down on me," Louis said. "They don't believe I can shoot from long range. Look how far back they are!"

"You mean..." Arteta hesitated.

"On a rainy day, it's normal to take more long shots. If they're more vigilant, they won't give us such a good chance."

"Got it!" Arteta nodded. "You drop back more, and we'll pass to you when we find an opportunity!"

Considering Louis's improved shooting ability in training, Arteta agreed. "I said that kid doesn't have the ability to score from outside the penalty area," Vertonghen remarked to his partner Dawson.

"Don't let him into the box. Just track him outside," Dawson replied. It seemed clear now: Louis was a forward with a limited skill set, easy to guard against.

Arsenal's attack resumed. Tottenham, determined to counter-attack, almost gave up the midfield to Arsenal, allowing them to dominate possession. But Tottenham fans weren't concerned about this. Despite Arsenal's dominance, their attacks lacked threat. Tottenham's counter-attacks, however, forced Szczesny to make several saves, keeping the game level after twenty minutes.

Tottenham fans kept booing any Arsenal player who got the ball, with the loudest boos reserved for Louis, Arsenal's top scorer. In the nineteenth minute, Monreal and Podolski combined on the left wing. Near the baseline, Monreal looked towards the center of the penalty area but saw it crowded with Tottenham defenders. Where was Louis?

Monreal spotted Louis outside the penalty area, waving for the ball. Hesitating momentarily, Monreal passed in the direction of the inverted triangle. "Monreal passes to the arc of the penalty area. Louis!" the commentators exclaimed, surprised to see Louis ready to receive the ball outside the box.

Chesting the ball down, Louis knocked it from his left foot to his right, avoiding Tottenham midfielder Sigurdsson's challenge. But the Tottenham defense quickly reacted, pressing outward. Dawson charged at Louis, who, after completing the move, planted his left foot firmly on the turf and unleashed a powerful right-footed shot.

Boom! The football rocketed off his foot, accelerating like a cannonball, breaking through the rain curtain. Dawson could only watch in shock as the ball flew past his ear, barely having time to react. Lloris, caught off guard, scrambled to save but slipped on the wet pitch. His fingertips brushed the ball, but the heavy rain-soaked ball was unstoppable, flying straight into the goal.

Everything went quiet. The loudest boos at White Hart Lane turned into stunned silence.

"He's done it! Louis Dupont scores a stunning long goal!" Andy Gray exclaimed, breaking the silence.

White Hart Lane, known for its intense atmosphere, was momentarily silenced by the seventeen-year-old's spectacular strike. The only sound was the rain, now falling on a stadium filled with shocked Tottenham fans and jubilant Arsenal supporters.