The flight to London was a familiar one, but for Mateo, it felt different. He was not just a passenger; he was a player again. He was part of the squad, part of the team, part of the fight. The frustration and helplessness of the past two weeks had been replaced by a sense of anticipation and excitement. He was back.
The Emirates Stadium, home of Arsenal, was a magnificent arena, a modern cathedral of football. It was a far cry from the hostile cauldron of Istanbul, but it had its own unique atmosphere, a sense of history, of tradition, of a deep, abiding love for the beautiful game.
Mateo, sitting on the bench, soaked it all in. He watched the two teams warm up, he listened to the roar of the crowd, he felt the buzz of a big Champions League night. He was itching to be out there, to be a part of it, to feel the ball at his feet. But he knew he had to be patient. He had to wait for his moment.
---
