Chelsea - on the bus. One step away

Arsenal gets into the Carabao Cup final, where a good old friend will be awaiting.

The starting line-up pretty much matched what I was expecting before kick-off. Martinelli and Eze both got the nod, as they’re much better suited to a counter-attacking game. My only other tweak would have been giving Norgaard a run-out, considering he also played in a counter-attacking side before joining us. Arteta clearly doesn’t trust him yet, though, so it wasn’t exactly a shock with a place in the final on the line.

Kepa started again, which basically confirms the theory that Arteta promised him the domestic cups as a condition for signing. Arteta’s denied it publicly, but it feels like he’s pulling our leg. He probably didn’t want to frustrate the rest of the squad by admitting certain players have guaranteed minutes. To be honest, I don’t have an issue with it. Any experienced player (say, 24+) deserves game time if their attitude is right. They weren’t signed for their potential but for what they can do now, so it makes sense for the club to give them those assurances.

The first half definitely went our way. Eze has again confirmed to us that he’s a completely different breed of “number 10.” He’s not the type to just spray passes around or dictate every single attack. Instead, he pops up from time to time with those silky bits of skill that opponents just aren’t prepared for, and can’t hardly be prepared, to be honest. One of those moves, linking up with Noni, found Hincapie on the edge of the box. His first instinct was to pull the trigger—and it wasn’t a bad effort at all. It was never actually going in, but seeing him pop up in that number 10 role is exactly what we’re missing when Odegaard is our regular playmaker.

Madueke was a bit quieter than usual, though. It seems the blueprint for stopping him is the same one that works on Odegaard: stick a man right on him to initiate a physical duel the second he touches the ball. When teams like Forest or United sat deep and gave him room to turn and build up speed, he was unstoppable. It’s a risky tactic because it leaves space behind the marker, but it worked better than anything else I’ve seen lately.

Noni’s delivery from corners remained top-notch though. Chelsea tried something a bit different on the night, abruptly sending three players high up the pitch from our corners, just waiting to hit us on the break.

It’s an intriguing setup, isn’t it? If you reckon a few of your lads aren’t going to bother to help defend a corner, you might as well send them try their luck at the other end. It’s a high-stakes gamble, because defending six-on-six is a lot hairier than nine-versus-nine. Still, it’s refreshing to see an opposition actually try to throw us a curveball.

Martinelli had a decent sniff when he and Gyökeres went charging behind the backline to latch onto Gabriel’s 60-yard ping—precisely the sort of directness we were crying out for on the night—but he couldn’t quite get a clean strike away. Madueke got a bit cocky in our half, trying a Hollywood pass while swarmed by four blue shirts, which gifted Chelsea their first real look at goal.

On the whole, it was a bit of a cagey affair with clear-cut chances at a premium, but that’s on Chelsea, not us. We were sitting pretty on the aggregate lead and didn’t need to go chasing anything. We were more than happy to keep it dull for as long as necessary—much like PSG did in that semi-final return leg against us last season.

Pure poetry

The second half started a bit wobbly, though. Chelsea managed a few pops from the edge of the area that, fortunately, flew either high or wide. It was enough to get the nerves jangling. After seeing United ship those two against us and that Szoboszlai free-kick, I was on edge. When a big side rolls up to our place for a Champions League semi-final after a home defeat, you don’t want to give them even a glimmer of hope. If you give the likes of Kane, Raphinha, or Vitinha a couple of similar sights of goal, they might not hesitate to punish you. I want them stepping onto that pitch with zero belief. I still don’t think the Emirates has quite achieve that intimidating atmosphere level you get at the Allianz, Anfield, or the Nou Camp.

As we headed into the final quarter, we started looking dangerous again. On one counter, Zubimendi somehow completely missed Martinelli’s run, which would’ve seen him clean through, and played it out wide instead. A few minutes later, however, he whipped in a peach of a cross that Gabriel met firmly, only for his header to smack Cucurella right in the face.

I know plenty of Arsenal fans find Cucurella properly annoying. Fair enough, but the lad’s got serious grit; he never hides in the big moments. To be honest, I’d rather love to see a character like that in our ranks. He’s popped up with some massive goals (winners or equalizers) for Chelsea, and he’s one of the few who’s managed to keep Saka mostly quiet on occasion. This time, he literally put his face on the line to keep them in it.

In the 84th minute, another counter ended with Martinelli being hauled down in the box. While the defender’s first leg might have nicked the ball, his second clearly wiped Gabi out just as he was set to burst clear.

No penalty. For a split second, I wondered if they’d even bothered with VAR for the Carabao Cup. Turns out they had, and they’ve produced another absolute shocker—hardly a surprise these days, is it?

The finish was a nervy one, but it ended up being rather poetic. 97th minute, one last break: Trossard feeds Rice on the left—who’s still charging forward despite putting in a massive shift—and he dinks it to the edge of the area. Havertz and Martinelli were both busting a gut to get there. Both deserved a goal, and it was almost a shame they couldn’t both be on the scoresheet. Havertz took it upon himself to deliver the verdict, and boy did he deliver. The icing on the cake was that celebration that went right into the history books.

Havertz pointing to the badge made it clear: these are the exact types of moments he signed up for. Chelsea fans were fuming, which is understandable given he won them the biggest tournament in Europe, but he moved three years ago now (time really flies!). No room for sentiment here. We’re on the cusp of something special, and if we pull it off, Havertz will have played a massive part.

The aftermath

In my book, it was vital we didn’t end this one goalless. The narrative of a third 0-0 draw in January wouldn’t have gone down well at all. Even if, truth be told, it was a bit of a stalemate for the most part, it felt right to put this semi-final to bed properly with the whole crowd up on their feet celebrating.

We’ve got Sunderland at our place on Saturday, and I’m fairly certain their coach will look to set up a compact deep block to try and nick a point—exactly the kind of setup we struggle to break down and that worked for the likes of United and Forest.

The silver lining is that we can rotate and bring some fresh legs into the side. White and Calafiori can patrol the flanks, which is precisely what you need against a bus-parking defence. We’ve also got the option of bringing in Trossard and Odegaard (or Havertz), who were on the bench on Tuesday, and maybe even giving Jesus a run at number nine.

The real headache is the central midfield. With a tricky trip to Brentford just three days after Sunderland, Arteta’s got to manage his options carefully. Starting Rice and Zubimendi for four games in a fortnight is playing with fire, especially with Merino sidelined for a couple of months.

One of them really ought to be rested. Looking at the two fixtures—Sunderland at home and Brentford away—I’d say Zubimendi is more useful for the first to unpick a lock with his passing, whereas Rice is non-negotiable for the second, where we’ll need him covering every blade of grass to stop Brentford on the break.

A midfield trio of Norgaard, Zubimendi, and Havertz feels like it has all the right balance of qualities for Saturday, and I’m hoping Arteta goes with something along those lines. We’ve got Myles in reserve, but he might just lack the physical presence for this one. Either way, Arteta needs to find a sustainable way to manage the engine room over the next three months.

We are one step away from a strong squad being managed in the healthiest possible way. We are also one step away from our first trophy in six years. This one step is will be the hardest though.