Final match day. Relief and Belief
Last gameweek of the league season crowned with loud celebrations.
Arteta decided to shuffle the pack for the final day, handing starts to the lads who’ve been kicking their heels on the sidelines lately. On one hand, that guard of honour felt a bit hollow with our big hitters parked on the bench. Then again, Glasner played it predictably, fielding a rotated Palace side that looked like they already had their flip-flops on.
There’s not much point over-analysing the 90 minutes. Jesus fluffed a couple of absolute sitters—the kind that would be unforgivable if the title race was still on—before finally finding the back of the net. Just after the interval, a textbook corner saw Madueke smash one home from the edge of the area to double our lead.
Funny enough, the only two players in the squad I’m not fond of were the ones who grabbed the goals. Call it a bit of humble pie if you like, but it’s rather symbolic they only turned up when the pressure was off. It’s been the story of Jesus’ last two seasons, really—showing his quality only after the hard graft of breaking teams down is already done.
To be fair, even with nothing at stake, I didn’t want us to lose. A draw would’ve been fine, but starting a proper celebration after a defeat is never a preferred way. I got really tense when Palace bagged two in three minutes, but VAR goal cancellation spared our blushes. Ending on 85 points is a decent return (the second-best tally of the Arteta era), considering where we were after that Etihad result.
The lads celebrated at the whistle, one of the few sane scenes on a mental final day. Over at City, they lost at home to Villa in Pep’s curtain call but threw a party for him anyway. Liverpool barely scrambled for the point they needed for Champions League football before giving Salah a proper send-off.
Bournemouth were buzzing after securing their first-ever Europa League spot, while the Sunderland faithful went absolutely berserk after thumping Chelsea. They sent those “November title contenders” down to 10th and nicked the second Europa spot for themselves. Absolute scenes.
Spurs clung onto a 1-0 win and celebrated 17th place like they are going to also join us in the Champions League final on Saturday! Honestly, 17th! I know their baseline is really low, but have some dignity. They did the bare minimum to avoid total humiliation. Just clap the fans, bow to them for support and get down the tunnel. De Zerbi charging across the pitch after the whistle? Pure shamelessness.
But it was Brighton who took the biscuit. They started the day in Europa League spot, with a chance of even sniffing a Champions League spot, should the results go right and ended it in the Conference League after a 3-0 drubbing. They literally bottled their final game, dropped down a tier, and still did a lap of honour. It was embarrassing, frankly. Thank the fans, sure, but acknowledge you’ve let it slip. Truly bizarre stuff.
An hour after that circus died down, the real trophy celebrations kicked off. It was a class touch seeing the backroom staff out on the grass wearing different player shirts. The order for the medals was an interesting one. It went keepers, then defenders, then the engine room. I figured our captains would be the final three, but after Bukayo and Declan, it was surprisingly Timber and Merino getting their gongs before Martin Odegaard finally hoisted the trophy into the London sky.
That gave the way for all kind of sweet and memorable moments - the lads tossing the gaffer into the air, Saka silencing the crowd to lead a chant, everyone belting out “North London Forever.”, Ben White was back to his usual tricks trying to pull down Hincapie’s shorts, Martinelli was in bits hugging his old man, and there were more interviews than you could shake a stick at.
The players and the boss finally were finally rewarded for their efforts, and the fans got a bit of payback for all the nerves and the loyalty.
For 22 years, the old Arsenal artillery has laid silent and dormant, gathering dust, gathering doubt, but this season has lit the fuse. After 22 years of gloom, it’s about to go boom!
The
RedArsenal cannon fires again. Arsenal roar like it’s 2004.
This title is surprisingly the first in my long supporting time that I celebrated so consciously. The first football tournament I watched as a boy was Euro-2000, where I was mesmerised by a young Thierry Henry. I saw things in his game I wanted to mimic in the local stadium with my mates. We all tried to copy our idols’ finishes, and mine was always Titi.
I found out the club he was playing for and started to follow it. The style of play won me over instantly—it was pure entertainment. The fact that Arsenal was one of the best in England at that time also played a big role. I know it’s the glory hunting that is frowned upon in the fan world, but let’s be honest, for a boy who’s choosing a club to support without knowing history, details, without receiving any nudge from the family - a successful club where the favorite player is a star, is all he needs. It was only later, after years of watching football I grew to appreciate the steel of Patrik and the magic of Dennis touch.
Back then, we were in the title hunt every single year and bagged two in my first four seasons following. I didn’t appreciate it enough; I thought winning the League was going to happen every 2-3 years. How little did I know... Even the “Invincibles” didn’t fully sink in—I hadn’t seen enough English football to realise just how legendary that achievement actually was.
I took the league titles a bit for granted and obsessed over the Champions League. This is the most prestigious tournament in the world and I dreamt of seeing us succeeding in it. For a boy, whose parents don’t even follow football, especially in a country far-far away, the weekend league schedule didn’t always fit. Combined with missing broadcast licence in some years (imagine following the 03/04 season from highlights), following the weekly drama was tough. But Tuesday and Wednesday nights in Europe? Those were circled in red.
This time around I’ve lived every single minute. Every twist, every turn, and every heartbreak from the last few years has led to this. Knowing it might take over two decades to feel this again makes me cherish it even more. And on Saturday, we’ve got a chance at real club history. Something no Gooner has ever seen.
I remember playing over and over in my head wasted Henry and Ljungberg chances in the ‘06 final. Even back then, I understood that hoping Almunia would keep a clean sheet would be naive. Barcelona applied a lot of pressure and they had enough time to score. The only way to win was to score the second goal while they had gaps at the back. I remember nearly crying after that 4-2 at Anfield in ‘08, when I truly believed this team could reach the final once again. I remember getting excited after scoring three in the first half against Milan, who came with a four goal advantage on our ground only to be disappointed by the goalless second half. I remember the feeling of inevitability of Ronaldo at United and Messi at Barcelona.
This season we are back in the final, however, the feeling about our team is completely different. We aren’t as explosive, and if we go two down, I’d probably lose the majority of hope. But we’re a proper collective now. We defend together, press together, and adapt to whatever is thrown at us. The chances of this side folding and going two down are much lower.
That set of qualities makes it a harder watch to be fair. Before, you’d hope a star striker would bail you out of any mess. Now, you just hope we don’t get into one. Low-margin football means every error is massive, so you’ve got to be switched on for the full 90, even as a fan.
Having the league wrapped up has given us a massive boost. If you’d asked me after the semis, I’d have said PSG were 70% favourites. Now? Maybe 55%. They still have superior attacking quality to turn any game into their favour, but we’ve got something special brewing.
The biggest thing I sense from the player and the fans is relief. Relief that they have finally secured the reward for all the hard work and effort put into it, relief that they are not getting forever ridiculed as “nearly men” or “bottlers”, relief that they don’t have to explain anymore themselves, relief that the highest point of pressure is already past them.
But it was not only the relief, I also heard the belief in their voices. Belief that they can grab the highest, most desired title in Europe, belief that they were doing things right in the end, belief that they can go on and win more trophies. Belief with a shade of arrogance. The kind of arrogance City players radiated with when they beat us in previous campaigns. That Henry-at-the-Bernabeu arrogance that makes a player unstoppable against anyone on the pitch.
Belief changes everything. A month ago, PSG probably thought they’d walk this final, but doubts will be creeping in now. I am sure that a month ago our players might have played it safe, but with a title in the bag, they’ll have the minerals to take risks and ask PSG more questions than they are ready to answer.
The beauty of this final is that we are coming there as the underdogs. Most neutrals, even the ones that don’t hate us, think it’ll be a stroll for the Parisians. For us, this season is already a blinding success. Bar the spanking Inter received last season, I don’t think many Gooners will be losing sleep if we fall short.
For Enrique’s boys, winning the league is the bare minimum given how overpowered they are compared to the rest of the teams. The Champions League defines their whole season. The pressure is all on them. . In addition to that, we are applying our best when the pressure is off — Bayern and Inter in the group stage or Man City at home last season. The struggle of title pressure that delivered all these nervous performances is over and we can finally get back to our best football now the title nerves are gone.
The starting XI for the biggest game in a decade is an interesting question. We’re stacked everywhere... except right-back. There are five names on the sheet that I am not even going to discuss. I reckon Calafiori gets the nod at left-back, because we look at our calmest when Gabriel has Ricky next to him as a passing target. In the middle, I think Arteta goes with Myles. Arteta is known to be resistant to shuffling the successful combinations and I think the fact that he chose Myles against Atleti and that worked out well is going to play a big role in his selection against PSG. Trossard will probably start on the left, given that he matches most of Arteta’s requirements in that position. Havertz will lead the line for his link-up play and I am happy with that. I think Gyokeres powers work much better against a tired defence and if we go into extra time, his running and penalty taking abilities is something we can’t discount.
The only two true dilemmas are at number 10 and right back, where there’s no clear preference of a best option. Despite the big goals Eze scored in spring, despite the stories of Ebz helping our run-in, I still feel there is not full understanding between him and Arteta and the coach is going to go with our captain. It might make sense for a more controlled first half, but we would need Eze to arrive in the second half and potentially be the one to maintain composure in front of the box.
And then we come to a right back position. Timber hasn’t actually recovered from his injury in March and is rushing in the race against time to get fit. And Mosquera who played recently there, is a source of concern for many Gooners, because he’d have to face Kvaratskhelia, arguably the best left winger in the world. My opinion on that is quite clear. Even if Timber passes the fitness test, he shouldn’t be available for more than one half. Throwing him in for a full game can not only break him for an extended period of time, but also put him into a situation where he’s simply not fit enough to catch up with the electric pace of the Georgian. Starting him doesn’t seem like an option, because I can’t see the logic of subbing him with Mosquera, especially when we are ahead. The best option we have is to start Mosquera, provide a sufficient cover-up for him with the help of Rice and sub him out around the 70th minute when he starts losing pace and concentration.
In any scenario, getting a result against arguably the best set of attackers is going to require a full concentration from everyone on the pitch and a special approach. We know from last year and some games this year what PSG brings to the pitch:
A midfield of three technicians that can quickly pass the ball among each other and are not crumbling under pressure.
An attack with three world-class dribblers who’ll skin you if you give them a yard.
A team that creates a chance by fluidity of attacking players who constantly move across the pitch, pull defenders out of their zones, creating the spaces for teammates to run into.
We are the best prepared team to counter that third point. We have been practicing man-to-man defence for a long time and successfully applied it against Bayern, when Gabriel stalked Kane deep into their own half. All the defenders and central midfielders I was proposing to start are comfortable in various positions around the pitch with the tiny question mark above Mosquera’s name. That type of an approach screams Jurrien Timber’s name, but we are where we are and Christian is still a relatively versatile player.
The second point should be addressed by not letting their wingers receive the ball with their face to our goal. Constant presence around them and the tactic of small “clever” fouls preventing them from turning that are not significant enough to be booked.
And for the midfield, we need to make it a physical battle. Press them high, force the keeper to hoof it long, and win the second balls—exactly like we did at the Etihad with Donnarumma. This also means the focus on set pieces, however, lame and stereotypical that sounds. We are a much more physically present team and this is the best opportunity to use this advantage to our favour.
One last aspect to mention are the referees —I won’t be surprised if they look for any excuse to give a soft penalty. We need to be squeaky clean in the box so VAR doesn’t get a chance to pause the replay in a moment that gives formal grounds for a tough call.
It’s going to be a proper grind, a fight for every blade of grass. We need to be clinical at front and flawless at the back. But somehow I’m hopeful. We can play with one of the highest intensity levels in Europe. Even if it was not visible in some patches of the season, after a long break from the Burnley game the freshness is going to be back on the table. And despite all the PSG quality, we have a really strong bench: Eze, Merino, Gyokeres, Hincapie, Martinelli … we’ve got the depth to keep the tempo up for the full 120 if we have to.
I hope that the football Gos that are watching from the sky won’t let the team that cheats by shifting their schedule around to win the competition and make the group of honest hard working boys that are not afraid to mix up with the local crowd at 05:00 AM in the morning the happiest one on the planet!
P.S. I would love to read your personal stories of following Arsenal.