West Ham - on the bus. The true captain

The nerviest of performances that was turned into a victory after major errors.

Arteta stuck with the same XI, and I’ll admit, I wasn’t entirely convinced. Sure, the “don’t fix what isn’t broken” mantra holds weight, but after the emotional toll of the Atleti clash, a bit of fresh, hungry energy—someone like Hincapié or Zubimendi—could have been the shot in the arm we needed. That midfield trio of Saka, Eze, and MLS, anchored by Calafiori and Rice, is an intriguing new setup, but the big hope was that Nuno hasn’t cracked the code on how to stifle our new attacking movements.

And a quick word on our kit. It looks the real business, but it was an absolute nightmare for this fixture. It’s practically the inverse of West Ham’s, which made distinguishing the two teams a proper headache.

To recap, we went into this one with one goal: “win it—claim the first title in 22 years”. Arsenal lacked that razor-sharp urgency I saw against Newcastle and Fulham, though I’ll concede, playing away at a relegation fighting side is never a walk in the park. West Ham’s defence was as deep and compact as any block we’ve faced at the Emirates. They were set up in a 5-3-2 defensively, and poor Saka was swarmed by opponents like a bee hive the moment the ball touched his feet.

In this disposition and compactness, there are two ways to crack the nut: either overload the centre with two 10s and two 8s and try to progress to the edge of the box with short passes, or overload the flanks, with the full-back pushing right up alongside the winger to stretch the pitch.

It was logical to expect the trusty White-Saka partnership to do the business, but surprisingly, the threat came from the other side. Trossard whipped in a gorgeous trivella for Calafiori, who just wasn’t aggressive enough. A split-second of hesitation and the defender got the block in.

Then the corner. Trossard was in the thick of it again—two headers in two seconds, a spectacular save, and the woodwork rattled.

Three minutes later Calafiori finished abeautiful move with a rasping 20-yard effort, before nodding a Rice free-kick goalwards. Another dramatic save, and the ball fell to Saliba for a tap-in. But William couldn’t get a touch on the line, and the chance evaporated. Two moments of hesitation that could’ve cost us dear. To top it off, 15 minutes later, Trossard was back in our own box making a vital clearance. That’s the kind of hunger you want to see and that was unmatched in our squad.

Corner, where Trossard was a center of action again - two headers in two seconds, leading to a spectacular save and hitting the post. And then it was again Calafiori finishing the beautiful combination with a decent 20-meter attempt. And then again Calafiori redirected Rice’s delivery from free kick. Dramatic save once again and it was Saliba’s chance to hit it in the empty net. And again William didn’t put his leg on the line and the moment was gone. Two split second moments that might have cost us two goals. To top it all, 15 minutes later, Trossard was the one clearing the ball in a critical situation in our own box. Desire from the Belgian was unmatched in the squad.

That clearance followed a moment that could define our season, our club’s trajectory, and Arteta’s managerial legacy. Ben White went down injured and had to come off. We were cruising, finding gaps, and looking the better side. The logical shout was to bring on Mosquera, who’s looked comfortable there recently.

Instead, Arteta crumbled under the title-race pressure and completely bottled the sub. Zubimendi on for White, pushing Rice to right-back. No Gooner likes seeing Rice at right-back. It’s a reincarnation of the “Partey at right-back” experiment, which never ever worked, yet Arteta seems drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

I think the reason he took that decision is because he felt guilty about leaving Zubimendi out and wanted to shoehorn him back in at the first opportunity. Remember his comments about “apologising” to players after the Atleti game? I was left wondering: who does he think he needs to apologise to? The bench was either not fully fit or in-and-out players like Hincapié. Zubimendi was the only one with a real claim to start juding by our season. This sub was his way of making amends. It’s mind-boggling that a manager with Arteta’s standards can’t just tell a player, “you haven’t been up good enough lately, so I will leave you on the bench”

That decision to prioritise sentiment over team structure screwed up our set-up in so many departments at once:

• Rice covers ground, but he lacks the raw pace to track a flying winger like Summerville. He’s a midfield dominator where the opponents are usually a balance of power and pace, not a wide defender.

• Saka was left isolated, with no support on the flank, and quickly swamped by West Ham’s defenders.

• We lost our physical edge in the engine room, and West Ham started bullying Myles and Zubimendi off the ball.

One sub, and the whole dynamic collapsed. Even the stats back it up—our chance creation dried up the moment Zubimendi stepped onto the pitch and stayed until he left.

After that change, West Ham grabbed the initiative and killed our momentum with a succession of niggly fouls. The half ended with a massive scare for West Ham, forcing Raya into a world-class save.

Then the half-time whistle blew. I, like every other Arsenal fan, was praying for Mosquera. It was clear Zubimendi wasn’t coming off after just 15 minutes, so I expected Myles to be subbed. The change did happen, but Arteta sacrificed Calafiori instead. The lad had been one of our most dangerous outlets but it was a price to pay for an earlier blunder. Arteta claimed it was an injury in his post-match presser, but let’s be real: he just couldn’t admit he’d made a massive tactical blunder.

Myles moved to left-back, and we looked a bit more solid, even if Rice was still stuck at right-back during the build-up—hardly his best position. Yet, considering we need three points in these last three games to lift the title, the performance was painfully underwhelming.

There was no urgency, no drive, no one grabbing the game by the scruff of the neck. The Arsenal of the Bournemouth fiasco returned and apparently all we needed was for City to drop points to start shitting our pants again. As soon as the pressure mounts, this team starts playing with fear—fear of losing the ball, fear of the counter, fear of dropping points. A lot of fear instead of concentrating on beating the opponents in front of us.

That general fear in the team stems from the manager. Arteta sets the tone, and he looked rattled. If he can’t condition himself, he can’t condition the players. That sub was the mark of a manager feeling the heat. He’s got coaches for every minor detail on the pitch, but where’s the top-tier psychologist to help them keep their cool? Even if the psychologist would work with the team not before the starting whistle, but just earlier in the day today, it would help the teams a lot.

Saka kept trying his luck from range but couldn’t find his shooting boots. Eze was trying to weave through defenders, but the final action was lacking. Zubimendi was simply a passenger. I am not even talking about the incisive passing, he bottled a simple pass to Eze during a rare counter.

67 minutes in, Arteta finally played his last pair of reliable cards in the deck —Odegaard and Havertz. And to my shock, Zubimendi—a total liability—was hooked after just 40 minutes. It took three subs to fix one glaring error, but maybe, just maybe, the football gods were smiling on us, rewarding Arteta for finally showing some cojones.

Between Eze and Trossard, Arteta had a tough call, and keeping Leo proved to be a right choice. Mind you, in a Champions League final, I’d still want Eze on the pitch—he’s the one who can conjure magic out of nothing.

That change finally unlocked the midfield, because the skipper was the only one who started running his socks off and trying to play forward. But before Odegaard hit his stride, we nearly threw it away. Fernandes broke clear for a 1-on-1, and when it looked like a certain goal, Raya made a sprawling save.

A poor finish, perhaps, but Raya held his ground to the last millisecond. Another title-winning stop from our number one; the best keeper we’ve had since Seaman. I’ve seen Lehmann, and even he didn’t impress me as much as Raya.

Then Arteta threw on Madueke for a poor Saka. Madueke?!? Give me a break. Does he think this guy is some sort of game-changer? Was he not watching Madueke’s performances together with us recently? 16-year-old Max Dowman has shown more grit in this title race with a fraction of the minutes, with only 90 minutes against 1100.

Arteta keeps picking him to save us at 0-0 despite him dropping stinker after stinker. You have to think it’s a vanity project—he brought him in, so he needs to prove he’s right. Madueke and Zubimendi are clearly his signings, while Norgaard was forced on him. If I have to leave one of them in the club, I’d take the Dane in a heartbeat. Norgaard is a proper number 6 stand-in; Madueke is just there to fill the squad.

Odegaard played a peach of a ball for Madueke, but he did nothing with it. Then another great pass for Havertz, which led to a throw-in. And then came the moment that summed it up.

Our goal attack, movement of Odegaard compared to Madueke.

In orange is Odegaard and in red is Madueke. Throughout the whole attack, Odegaard is moving, showing for the ball, while Madueke—the freshest man on the pitch—is standing still like a statue. No movement, no desire, just a total brain-fade.

I’m convinced Dowman or Nwaneri would’ve shown more hunger. I want Madueke out. It’s not just emotion; he and Jesus are the only two I don’t want to see in an Arsenal shirt anymore. Neither shows the fight needed to win. That Chelsea signing has been a disaster from day one. Get him out of my club!

Odegaard, seeing that everyone around him was not taking initiative, just ran with the ball into the box. He was one of the few moving around and actually asking the questions of positional defence. He was the only one with the ball to take on the defenders in their box. He maintained his composure and rolled out the ball to Trossard into a great position.

And once again this week, that Belgian cannon gave us results. Silver Fox Trossard has his last chance of winning the biggest of titles in the world and showing it to his grandchildren. And this goal would definitely be among his slide deck.

Odegaard was the main reason we scored that goal. He was the one who did not give up and who actually took the matter in his own hands. It was display by a true captain. Throughout the season I thought selling him in the summer is a right call if the proper offer comes in, but now I need to have a word with myself. This was a brave display and we lack those qualities in the team. Now I think that we can’t just give such qualities away easily.

One-nil to the Arsenal. Those final 10 minutes felt like an eternity. We held firm for six, then West Ham threatened, but Havertz put his body on the line to block a Callum Wilson shot. Again, even if Havertz is missing crucial chances, you could see today how he was ready to put his body on the line, defending our lead. And that is the quality I can get behind, but there’s no quality I can admire about Madueke.

That bloody corner... The ball came in, Raya fumbled it, the whistle didn’t blow, and West Ham equalised. I knew it would be the curtains and the only hope was that this goal would be overturned. The first replay from a side camera demonstrated a clear picture. Even if one might have questions about pulling and pushing, there was no getting around that West Ham player was holding Raya’s far arm. And that “arm holding” clearly prevented Raya from kicking the ball away, hence making the goal possible.

If that hadn’t been chalked off, the PGMOL’s agenda would’ve been crystal clear. VAR looked at it 15 times before calling the ref over—a glimmer of hope. Cavanagh checked it another 10 times before finally spotting the foul. There was too much spotlight on the referees, and they knew that image of Raya’s arm being grabbed would’ve been all over the back pages for the next couple of days. It was a clear foul, and thank god it was overturned. If it happened in any other game on any other minute, it would have been overturned in the matter of seconds.

Four more minutes of pure torture, another penalty shout from West Ham, and we scraped through.. Somehow. We’re still in control of this title race. Somehow.

I’m not losing sleep over the refereeing decisions affecting our result—City should’ve conceded a penalty against Brentford on Saturday, while being at 0-0 still.

This display has me sweating about the Palace game. Knowing Arsenal, it’ll be 90 minutes of pure cardiac arrest—unless City slip up first. And that is not so far-fetched, because Bournemouth has all chances to claim the Champions League spot, if Villa doesn’t win against Villa in the next matchday.

In the next matchday, when they are playing Burnley at home .We’re heading into this one off the back of a staggering eight-day break. Aside from international windows, I don’t recall us having this much time between fixtures, which has to be a massive positive. The Premier League is a ruthless beast, largely because those sides from 8th to 17th are packed with quality and, crucially, don’t have the distraction of midweek European football.

Burnley might have a bit of bite and have been finding the net recently, but on a level playing field, our squad depth is embarrassing. We could field a second-string attack to finish the game that’s stronger on paper than their first team. At home, under the lights, there’s no excuse not to turn up the intensity and blow them away.

I believe this game should be used for boosting a goal difference in any scenario. While I’ve got full faith in this team to get the job done against Palace, you’ve got to look at the bigger picture. This is our patch, our title charge, and our moment to step up. Every player on that pitch and every fan in the stands needs to feed into that atmosphere and elevate the energetic wave until the Burnley defence starts drowning. Frankly, anything less than a five-goal masterclass wouldn’t be a fair reflection of the balance strength.

—-

P.S. Off on holiday for two weeks soon, so if any posts do pop up, they’ll be quite brief. Come on you Gunners!