Wolves - on the bus. One last chance
Arsenal blows a two-goal lead and puts the league title in real danger.
The starting XI brought a proper boost to my mood—Saka playing as a genuine number 10. The big reason I was buzzing is that our main weakness is how predictable we’ve become. We are tactically massive, covering the grass and defending as one unit; we know how to play out from the back under the press and how to get stuck in ourselves. But we keep deploying the same players in the same roles, giving opponents months (or even years) of tape and practice to use against us.
Despite Arteta mentioning “unpredictability” and “multiple options” every other presser in the summer, he often sticks for too long with the same selection. Giving up the known patterns in favour of the unknown means also losing control. And we know how much he loves to control every single detail on the pitch.
The opponents know that to stop “typical” Arsenal, you just deploy an extra man to double up on Saka. Then you send another man to engage in a physical battle with Odegaard that pushes him far away from the box. That makes our open play much weaker and the team starts to rely mostly on set piece play.
Any deviation from that script causes the opposition real trouble. Eze and Merino formed an attacking pair that carried us through the autumn. Both fluid in their movement, both dangerous around the box—Merino with the strength to hold the ball up top and Eze with that ability to glide past defenders, a great combination. In winter, however, Eze completely faded and Merino was dropped back into the engine room as the only midfield sub Arteta actually trusts.
Then Havertz returned to the side in mid-January and brought exactly that missing trait. A physical presence around the box that is tough to contain—a second fluid striker who can drop deep when needed. Now Havertz is sidelined and Saka is bringing yet another flavour to this role. He has the quality to keep the ball high up the pitch and is very goal-oriented.
Another surprise in the line-up was Martinelli. I assumed he’d be benched after putting in a full shift on Sunday. But there he was—his second start after that painful and costly miss against Brentford. He brought the dynamism and energy from the first whistle that troubled Wolverhampton. The front four of Gyok, Saka, Noni, and Gabi was probably the fastest we have on the books. All we needed to utilize their pace was an early goal to force them out, which only took Arsenal five minutes.
Bukayo Saka made a brilliant run following a great Declan cross to score with a header between the keeper’s legs. That’s the type of run Odegaard has never even tried to make in the last two and a half years and don’t get me started on the chances the captain has to score the header. Saka was more than present in the box, while the captain is usually lurking away from the heat, looking for a chance to play a cross himself.
The celebration Saka dropped was supposed to be iconic and lead every match review. Little did we know that a completely different picture was going to dominate the media on Thursday.
It’s not that Saka is a better number 10 than Odegaard. The problem is simply that Odegaard has been figured out by PL teams. When players get found out, they either need to add another tool to their locker or the club needs to move on. It doesn’t mean the player isn’t top quality, but for the current club in the current setup, his output is only going to reduce over time.
Odegaard has been figured out in the Premier League as an attacking midfielder, Martinelli as our left winger, and Jesus as a number nine (though in Europe, they all remain solid contributors). If we need to raise funds in the summer to refresh the attack, I can see us letting go of all three. And if the interest in Odegaard is real, he is our most expensive asset that could be sold without too much pain. While Odegaard was out, Wolves decided to target Zubimendi and not let him receive the ball comfortably (a smart move, to be fair). With Saka losing his initial drive, we went quiet after the 25th minute. Our level dropped and sadly never recovered.
Madueke was close to bagging another header—crazy to think our two most dangerous headers came from lads known for quick feet and slim body rather than height. Hincapie was also looking dangerous on his side. He’s generally becoming more confident and influential; he’s daring to go direct into the box, beating defenders and delivering decent crosses. In one attack after a brilliant backheel from Rice, he was wiped out in the Wolves box. It was a close one to claim a penalty, but the replay showed a touch on the ball, so VAR wasn’t going to overturn it.
Right from the restart, Wolves looked the better side, which was expected as they were a goal down. Ten minutes into the half, their momentum was supposed to be killed when Gabriel found Hincapie for a perfect finish—just as sensei Calafiori taught him. The ref blew for offside, but the replay showed Piero was level with the right back. It was sweet to see him so worried during the VAR check; he clearly wanted that goal really badly and almost prayed for it to stand.
Justice came from the skies where he was looking! 0-2 against the team at the bottom of the league seemed like the perfect evening. I honestly thought Wolves were done for. But as often happens in football, a team gets pulled back into the contest by a moment of magic from one individual.
Bueno curled one from 22 meters right into the top bin. A perfect strike, but where on earth was Martinelli—our best back-tracking winger? As I recall, Eze was sent to the doghouse for similar laziness, but it’s another topic to dig into. Gabi had a chance to make amends with a decent look inside the box, but he couldn’t beat the keeper.
Before that chance, Eze and Jesus came on for Vik and Madueke. Madueke was passive, so the sub made sense. At the same time, I was worried about Saka playing 90 minutes so soon after his return, and those worries weren’t unfounded. In the 71st minute, Saka went down after a clash and stayed on the pitch—a real concern before the big game on Sunday.
Trossard was thrown on—the last attacking sub the gaffer had—but his cameo was short. Twenty minutes after being hit in the face (with no red card for the Wolves player), he went down the tunnel and Ricky took his place. Those last twenty minutes that Arteta and the team completely failed. None of the subs showed any aggression or urgency to kill the game off. None of them looked concentrated or like they had a point to prove. Jesus was nowhere to be seen, Eze didn’t create anything, Martinelli was losing the ball, Trossard was only remembered by that face hit. The mood was that the points were already in the bag and we just had to see the game out.
And even though Wolves weren’t creating clear-cut chances, I had pretty clear flashbacks of our home game against them where we luckily escaped with a late own goal that followed Wolves equalizer. How come the players forgot that? How come the manager didn’t stress it every second of the halftime? He’s constantly shouting every bit of instruction from the touchline; why wasn’t he whispering that warning into the ear of every sub?
“It’s not over until it’s over.” A bit of a dumb cliché, but I can’t find any better way to describe our situation. With one last chance of the match, a Wolves player crossed it in, David Raya decided to come for a ball he absolutely wasn’t required to, collided with Gabriel, and served it up for Bueno on a silver platter. The strike came in, Calafiori almost pulled off a miracle save, but we’d used our miracle quota in the home fixture. The ball bounced off the post, back into Calafiori, and then into the net. There were three minutes left, but a team that looked more passive by every passing minute of the second half never looked close to finding another goal.
Eze had one chance to become THE hero but completely fluffed his lines—not the shot a professional number ten should be taking. I don’t know what’s going on there. How can he be the heart of creativity against Wigan and then go completely anonymous three days later? Especially in a game where the opponent wasn’t even parking the bus. He’s been in that situation dozens of times in a Palace shirt. Are the gaffer’s instructions that different in the league? He looks like he doesn’t know what’s needed from him on the pitch. Right now, Eze is a total disappointment; I saw no quality and no edge. A £65m midfielder can’t be shooting like that when the title is on the line.
Arteta didn’t fail in tactics, strategy, team selection or subs (I don’t think that Norgaard or whoever else would have changed the actual issue), but he failed to manage the mental side. The players failed to manage it themselves too, there’s no hiding from that, but the buck stops with the manager. He failed to get the message across that every league game requires 100% concentration until the final whistle.
The team was passive and nervous. Raya failed in crunch time; his intervention was totally unnecessary. Not only Gabriel was completely alone and had it covered, but Raya put himself into a passenger position when it came to Bueno’s shot—not close enough to block and not far enough to react. He simply choked in the 93rd minute.
Many years ago when Brentford failed their first attempt to qualify into the Premier League from the Championship, they were in play-offs and the duel was decided by a stupid Raya mistake. We were looking at him as a backup keeper for merely £12m back then, and it was a red flag for me. He’s improved since and has generally been reliable under pressure, but that’s two games in a row now where he’s done something daft (against Brentford he also made mistakes that Thiago didn’t capitalize on). It feels like the whole squad is mentally shaky, and these immature errors are creeping in. Maybe Eze can’t handle the weekly pressure of a title race, and the manager can’t calm him because he’s stressed himself.
I’ll say it for the 20th time: relying on defensive solidity to protect a one-goal lead isn’t sustainable. One mistake or one wonder strike and those three points become one. The most reliable strategy is scoring goals consistently. It’s no coincidence that most recent PL winners have been the top scorers in the league.
We can talk about this being a “learning experience”, and I’m sure Arteta said as much in his presser. But those words don’t mean much today. We already came here off the back of a draw with Brentford; we already luckily escaped a draw against Wolves in December. How much “experience” do we need before we actually take away the learnings? The lesson was clear, but the correction wasn’t made. Our recent form suggests this result isn’t just a fluke anymore.
At this point, we might as well accept that no matter how great the system is, you need attacking individuals with the skills and mentality to carry the team, and we don’t have them. Or you need a manager who can ignite that belief and convert players into those “team carrying individuals” , and time is showing Arteta ain’t that man. TIt is also a strong suspicion that Arteta concentrates on everyone contributing to the system, rather than the system contribution to the strongest individuals. I believe that nothing is technically stopping Saka from having a 25-goal season like Salah, except that Arteta won’t bend the system to accommodate him.
Our lead is down to two points and City will win their game in hand, don’t ruin your life with another set of delusions. We have one last chance to save the title—win at the Toilet Bowl ground. Any dropped points in the North London Derby and it’s over. City won’t let the opportunity slip once they’re in control, especially that they have an advantage in the form of a home game against us.
If we don’t win against Tottenham, everyone in the team would feel that they are bottling it. We actually bottled the league only once, in 22/23, which was totally expected, since we were a young team having a first title charge in over 10 years. In 23/24 we didn’t win only one game after taking the lead in later March and took the rice until the last day of the season (winning over Spurs, Chelsea and United in last 5 gameweeks), so it’s far away from bottling. In 24/25 we were never in it, Liverpool was gradually getting away from us all season. This time around, however, it would be a proper bottle job, and it’s something the fans and the team won’t recover from easily.
If we don’t beat Tottenham, the title run is dead. And do you think in the Carabao final City, after overturning the league run, would not smash us with the mix of confidence and arrogance? Or that teams in the Champions League will fear a side that blew a lead against a relegation candidate? Do you think they would be scared of a team who can’t score goals in the crunch moments? The Champions League is won by goals pulled out of nowhere under pressure, and very rarely just by defensive solidity. That’s why we were knocked out in the last two seasons. We offered nothing at the Allianz against an average Bayern side and were clearly outscored by PSG. Another season on, and we still don’t have anyone who we can trust to show up when it’s toughest.
We are now closer to another barren season than a quadruple some fans really like to bring up (and embarrass themselves in my opinion). City turned their season around by winning at Anfield in the moment when defeat seemed inevitable. We have one last chance to turn our season again on Sunday and I really hope we take it.