Alexis Sanchez frozen out of Arsenal training ahead of Manchester United transfer

[dribbles past six kids with his left foot]

“The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, not a footprint to be seen. A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I’m the King,” he said to himself on this typical London wintertime day at Arsenal training. “The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside. Couldn’t keep it in, heavens knows I’ve tried.”

[rainbow kicks and runs past a U17 kid]

“Don’t let them in, don’t let them see. Be the good boy you always had to be. Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know. Well now they know!”

[pets his dogs; posts himself petting his dogs on Instagram]

“Let it go, let it go, can’t hold it back anymore,” he sung lightly as he hiked the bottom of his shorts up to his waist. “Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door. I don’t care, what the fans will say. Let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered me anyway.”

[thinks about the non-canine relationships in his life]

“It’s funny how some distance, makes everything seem small,” he scribbled quickly onto his phone’s notes app with a reminder to post it to Instagram later that has a photo of his dogs running on the beach. “And the fears that once controlled me, can’t get to me at all. It’s time to see what I can do, to test the limits and breakthrough. No right, no wrong, no rules for me. I’m free!”

[checks current weather in Manchester, wonders if this is the right move; checks negotiated contract terms email from his agent, feels better]

“Let it go, let it go. I am one with the wind and sky,” he told his teammates back in the changing room. “Let it go, let it go, you’ll never see me cry. Here I stand, and here I’ll stay (or not). Let the storm rage on!”

[standing by himself in the middle of the changing room, while people casually ignore his presence]

“My power flurries through the air into the ground,” he shouted towards the ceiling, with a singular fist held high above his head. “My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around. And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast. I’m never coming back, the past is in the past!”

[peels out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a mailbox and a fence]

“Let it go, let it go, and I’ll rise like the break of dawn,” he screamed into his rear-view mirror, while putting sunglasses on. “Let it go, let it go, that perfect boy is gone. Here I stand, in the light of day. Let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered me anyway!”