Atleti - on the bus. 20 years of wait
Arsenal is in the Champions League final for the second time in history!!
I want to warn you right away: this post is not going to be structured. It’s going to be raw and emotional—much like the final 20 minutes of yesterday’s game.
The week started with an absolute belter of news. I was wrong—Man City did drop points against Everton. I never watch City games in a title race unless I know there’s something tasty happening; years of experience have taught me that only frustration and the inevitability of their wins awaits me there, so I didn’t even bother turning it on. At half-time, I checked my phone—0-1, as expected—so I just got on with my evening.
Who knew that after the break, Everton would turn the Premier League title race on its head? It wasn’t just Everton’s aggression, either. City’s defence was rattled, conceding chance after chance. Guehi might be getting the stick for his error, but City were living on the edge long before that. They eventually crumbled, and even Doku’s late strike couldn’t hide the fact that they’ve dropped vital points. It’s back in our hands now, no doubt about it.
That news should’ve given our lads a proper lift for the upcoming visit to West Ham. The TIFO wasn’t quite as titillating as some previous ones, in my opinion, but the graphics and the pyrotechnics definitely got the Emirates rocking.
I still yearn for those spine-tingling displays, and I hope we see plenty more. Surprisingly, Arteta stuck with the same XI from the weekend. I expected Hincapie or Zubimendi to get the nod, but he kept the faith. I think it’s tough for Mikel to step out of his comfort zone, but when it pays off, he tends to rinse and repeat. There’s no other explanation for why Myles was back at the base of the midfield. Don’t get me wrong, his form deserves credit, but starting him against West Ham would’ve been also a fair reward.
Watching the players’ faces during the Champions League anthem always tells a story. Saka and Trossard looked ice-cold, Gabriel seemed a bit nervy, but Calafiori radiated total calm. In that moment, I realised that starting XI might have been the right call after all—Gabriel needs that composure next to him to avoid leaving a vulnerable zone. That’s exactly how Bayern got at us in 23/24 quarters, when we were at the best form in Arteta’s tenure, overloading the Kiwior/Gabriel side.
Usually, the home side uses the opening minutes to feed off the crowd’s energy and pin the opponent back. Weirdly, while we were the home team, it was Atleti causing us headaches for the first 15-20 minutes. It took us until later in the first half to really seize the initiative. This team hasn’t been here before, so a few nerves are only natural.
Atleti came prepared: a well-known 5-4-1 defensive block to cut Saka all oygen and a 4-2-4 high press—straight out of the Guardiola playbook. Fortunately, Arteta had a plan this time, with Saka dropping deep to bypass the press with his footwork.
Myles was incredibly disciplined again—even more so than against Fulham. No rash decisions, no sloppy turnovers, plus a couple of defence-splitting passes that we just don’t see from Zubimendi. Our first real chance came from him, too. He shielded the ball perfectly, drove towards the six-yard box, but his cut-back didn’t find anyone. Looking at the replay, he could’ve maybe done better in the moment, but importantly he demonstrated to everyone that the Atleti defence had a soft underbelly.
Ten minutes later, Griezmann took down Trossard in the box. Even if Leo was drifting away from goal, it was a clear foul—I’ve seen plenty of those given in the Premier League. Griezmann didn’t get anywhere near the ball, but I suspect the ref, having seen the first leg, was determined not to decide the tie on a non-stone hard penalty.
Viktor Gyokeres looks a completely different animal lately, especially against Atleti. I refuse to believe it’s just because the Spanish giants have weaker defenders than 60% of the PL. I reckon being benched for a couple of weeks gave him that extra 10% in pace and physicality. The team adjusting to his game has helped, too.
Saliba pulled a leaf out of Eze’s book with this defence-splitting beauty.
Oblak strayed too far off his line, and Gyokeres crossed for Trossard, who took a touch too long to set himself. He hesitated so much that Eze looked fuming—and didn’t join in the celebrations. I agree that Trossard’s indecision was suboptimal, but not celebrating a goal properly? That’s not on.
Trossard then did what he does best and what we all know him for—a powerful strike through the crowd that no keeper can react to. Oblak parried it, but Saka was there to mop up! The commentator nailed it:
“Saka gambled with his run, but that’s what any world-class winger should do”
I couldn’t put it better myself. The homegrown star man stepped up again in what’s shaping up to be one of our biggest weeks. The Emirates erupted—and so did I, along with millions watching at home.
Before the break, Calafiori inexplicably shoved Simeone in the back after the whistle. The early composure had evaporated. Then, right at the start of the second half, Saliba’s sloppy pass back—the only blip in an otherwise superb performance—almost gifted them an equaliser.
I gotta say, Gabriel did brilliantly there, nudging Simeone off balance without committing a ‘clear and obvious’ foul, referee started consistent with his approach before. Ten minutes later, Calafiori was reckless again on Griezmann, but the ref somehow blew for a foul on Gabriel first. Being honest, I don’t think there was much contact— although Gabriel’s theatrics were convincing—and that should’ve been a penalty.
We got away with one, but Calafiori had lost the plot. Arteta acted fast, bringing on Hincapien for him, Odegaard for an underwhelming by his standards Eze, and Madueke for Saka. Saka looked gutted, and honestly, so was I. He put himself together in one of the toughest weeks and delivered two times in a row. He felt he deserved to stay more on the pitch and many felt it too.
The bigger worry: we were only one goal up. Any deflection could’ve forced us back on the attack, which would’ve been a nightmare without Saka and Eze. I’ve criticised Arteta for being too risk-averse in the past, but I have to tip my hat to him today. Protecting Bukayo’s legs for the run-in was a gamble that paid off.
The final 20 minutes were pure, unadulterated emotion—exactly why I’m always sceptical about this concept of controlling the game on fine margins. In the biggest moments, football is about passion; you can’t manage that with safe passes, probabilities and spreadsheets.
You just hold your breath until the final whistle, with moments etched in your memory:
David Raya claiming every cross with infuriating coolness.
Piero Hincapie, who’s gone from a shaky sub to a most reliable player who will hound his opponent to the corner flag, while offering a threat going forward. He delivered an absolute peach of a cross for Gyokeres, who should’ve buried the game then and there.
William Saliba, mopping up every runner, however, barely breaking sweat once Alvarez came on.
Benjamin White, finally finding his groove with an ‘old-school’ stable performance—attacking intent matched by defensive discipline.
Declan Rice, popping up with sliding tackles when no one else was around.
Martin Odegaard, directing the press, pulling the strings, pushing for that elusive second goal.
Leandro Trossard, imperious on the wing before being replaced by the relentless Martinelli, who put in a proper shift.
Viktor Gyokeres, running like a madman, relentlessly for the full 90. He must’ve won a hundred fouls for us on the Atleti half.
All our subs, in training equipment, roaring on their teammates right from the sideline and keeping the energy high.
I nearly welled up watching that support.
Mikel Arteta and Simeone prowling their zones, practically on the pitch, trying to help the press. This was the battle of two teams that have played most CL matches without winning the desired Cup.
And then, that final whistle signalled the times for the celebrations, dances, interviews, hugs, songs and connection with the fans. There were some sour-grapes articles in the media about our ‘extensive’ celebrations. What these numpties don’t get is that it was our final home game of the campaign. It was our chance to soak it all in with the Emirates crowd, it was a chance to pay back for their support. They played their part all season, and this was the send-off for the journey to the final battle over the land and the sea.
The Champions League final is the pinnacle—the most-watched annual sporting event on the planet (sorry, NFL fans yapping about the Super Bowl). Hundreds of millions will be tuning in, and our badge, our manager, and our players will be centre stage. No one can deny Arsenal’s power anymore.
Twenty years later, we’re finally back at the top table, and I couldn’t be happier. There were seasons when I dared not dream of this, when I knew we’d be fodder for the big boys. The last time I truly believed was that night against Barcelona when Van Persie got sent off. And now we’re back!!!
I’ll be rooting for Bayern tonight for three reasons:
It’s a great narrative when the two best teams from the group stages face off in the final.
I think Bayern is a better matchup for us. We know Kane, we know Diaz—we’d be better prepared to handle them than PSG’s chaotic individual brilliance. You can be as structurally tight, as tactically drilled as you like, but sometimes individual magic is impossible to legislate for.
Most importantly: I don’t think a team that openly cheats in France by having their league schedule moved to suit them deserves a place in the final.
As I type this, Bayern are already a goal down. But I still believe—that crappy PSG keeper is a car crash waiting to happen.
Next up, West Ham. It’s the mentally toughest test left. We need to win it just somehow. No complaints about style, selection or bravery—just get the three points on the board.
If we win on Saturday, I think the PL title is in the bag. Burnley at home shouldn’t stop us, and I can’t see us throwing it away on the final day with the smell of silverware in the air. As for Crystal Palace? They’ll have the Conference League final on their minds.
One last test, one last scrap against a wounded animal, one last big push. I know how hard it is to go 100% after such an emotional night, but maybe the title of Champions League finalist provides that extra boost of adrenaline?
What a beautiful month this could be! COYG