It has been an emotional couple of weeks for Arsenal fans, has it not? Full of both joy and pain. The joy of a first title after so many years. The pain of late Champions League Final defeat. The joy of being able to share both our happiness and sadness with family, friends and strangers alike. And the constant battles in trying to explain to supporters of other clubs - amidst all the hate and Schadenfreude - that they haven't got a f*cking clue what they're talking about!
By a stroke of good fortune, both of my season tickets survived the second ballot, and I was able to buy two tickets for the final. Thereafter, the question of logistics took over (in 2006, I had the foresight to buy flights and accommodation the day the semi-final draw was made - only to end up having to buy a 'secondary market' match ticket; having failed in no less than three official ballots), as I set ourselves a budget of £2500 for the two of us.
£1800 of that went on the flights that I reserved! Meaning that if I couldn't buy Category 3 seats, then we wouldn't be going. And goodness knew where we might sleep!?! But it all ended up falling into place, with the match tickets costing 180 Euros each and a late search for a hotel room meaning me finding a room for £350 (extortionately over-priced for what it was, but it was at least somewhere to rest). Budget hit; almost to the penny.
I'm not going to go into minute detail as to our trip itself. I'm sure that you don't want to read about that! I'll merely highlight a few things along the way, before I get to the match-going experience. But I am happy to start with the flight out, during which I was astonished - bearing in mind the time of day - to witness copious amounts of alcohol being consumed. Like the guy in the seat the other side of the aisle to me, who was clutching no less than three cans of Stella to his chest at 7.30am!
We had an uneventful flight and transfer to the Fan Park; which was already pretty busy when we arrived at around 11.15am. By the time we left at 2pm to check in at our hotel, it was really busy; maybe 10,000 or more Arsenal fans getting fully engaged with the DJs, a penalty shoot-out against Gunnersaurus, and a bizarre interview with Emmanuel Eboue, whose command of English appears to have diminished since he left Highbury. The interview with Roman Kemp was - thankfully - more comprehensible!
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Having checked in at our hotel and had a short rest, we headed back towards the Fan Park, where we met up and had a drink with some of our neighbours from Block 17 (shout out to Vic, Kelly and Andy for starters!), before joining the procession heading for the stadium. Unsurprisingly, we met quite a few other Arsenal fans that we knew along the way; my mate Nick from Borehamwood, Grant from Finchley who was marching alongside comedian Matt Lucas, Graham (aka Animal, who goes home and away, who sits directly in front of us at The Emirates and whose MO is to shout abuse at the linesman for every perceived officiating error), another comedian - and host of Handbrake Off - Ian Stone (no sign of Alan Davies and his crew, however), and others. Time being tight, I never got the chance to meet up with the likes of Matt and Sam, Stephen and Dani, Benny Brown Brown Brown, or Smash. Jill, who had gone on ahead, was another I regret not catching up with. My Arsenal family; and, let’s face it - we’re ALL family! Everyone was impeccably behaved along the route, and in excellent voice, as the anticipation built.
We were kettled in for about 15 minutes whilst the Police held everyone up to allow both team coaches and a load of blacked-out VIP vans to shoot past us on the main road heading towards the arena. During this time, I was somewhat put off by a young man in possibly his late 20s telling myself and my wife how good it was to see 'old people' like us making the trip for a possible 'once in a lifetime' experience. I didn’t know how to respond, to be honest. I'm in my mid-60s, and hardly on my last legs!
Entry to the ground went off without a hitch - and a very impressive arena it is too! We were in our seats and taking in the surroundings a good hour before kick-off. Getting a drink was tricky, so I chose to miss the beginning of The Killers’ set when I hoped that the queue would have diminished. I got back to my seat just as they were belting out Mr Brightside - and it was fascinating and enervating to see the entire Arsenal end belting out the lyrics whilst the Parisiens stood silent and bemused at the other end of the arena!
Onto the match itself - finally, you may be muttering…
Lots of tricky decisions for Arteta to make, as in all honesty the depth of the squad is such, and the way the season has progressed, that only 5 spots are genuinely nailed down (Raya, Saliba, Gabriel, Rice and Saka). With Timber not deemed ready to start, and White injured, it was Cristhian Mosquera who had the unenviable task of dealing with Kvaratskelia. In the other full back role, it must have been a toss-up between Hincapie and Calafiori. The choice of the former suggested that the Manager was opting to contain PSG early on, before unleashing the bench later.
The boldest decision was the selection of MLS over Zubimendi. The youngster certainly did nothing but enhance his burgeoning reputation; perhaps leaving Thomas Tuchel regretting not adding him to the England squad. I wasn’t surprised to see Trossard selected over Martinelli, nor Kai over Big Vik.
Six minutes in, and we were in absolute dream land! A Marquinhos clearance ricocheted off of Trossard and into the path of Havertz, and time seemed to stand still as he took the ball in on goal before he emphatically blasted the ball into the roof of the net. Beer and bodies flew everywhere around and over my wife and me! This was beyond our wildest dreams… although the thought would surely have crossed every Arsenal supporter’s mind that this was perhaps too early…
From then on, and for a considerable time, it was attack versus defence. Arsenal looked unbelievably solid and well-drilled, barely allowing PSG a glimpse of goal throughout the rest of the first half, but there were worrying signs nonetheless. They were sitting incredibly deep, and barely had an outlet. And whenever they did win the ball back, they surrendered it back within just a few passes; thereby piling the pressure back on themselves. But for all the pressure, PSG were creating virtually nothing, despite winning a series of corners and penning Arsenal back in the style that the latter are so used to doing to Premier League opponents.
Once - just once - did Arsenal have an opportunity to stretch their lead beyond PSG's capabilities. For a change, a tidy move down the right saw Havertz freed by Odegaard, but the German's first touch was just a tiny bit too heavy; giving Marquinhos the opportunity to get a block in on Kai's goal bound effort. Such fine margins... but with Odegaard, Saka and Trossard unable to keep their cool when on the ball, it just kept coming back and back for the most part.
Now, lots of people are getting annoyed about what happened at the end of that first half. But I think otherwise. With injury time virtually up, Arsenal first messed around with a throw in; taking forever for Rice to finally launch it into the box. And with time well up, Saka's leisurely stroll to take the resulting corner would have tested my patience too if I were the referee. Teams always waste time when they're ahead, and Arsenal paid the price for wasting what were absolutely precious seconds in that two-minute spell.
Whether that flicked a switch in the referee's head - or whether perhaps it was the (alleged) arrival of a large sum of Riyals in his Bank account during half time - the rest of the game was refereed entirely differently to how the first half had been. There was zero tolerance for time-wasting (and that's fair enough), but he seemed to suddenly begin to favour PSG in much of his decision-making. Time after time French fouls went unpunished, and yellow card offences failed to get their just dues. And time after time Arsenal players were penalised for what were, from where I was standing, perfectly fair challenges. All around me, groan after groan after groan went up as decision after decision went PSG's way. Mosquera was booked for taking a massive 7 seconds over a throw in. Saka was booked for a perfectly fair tackle. And at one point no less than 10 successive decisions (or which half were questionable) went PSG's way. All this served to pile further pressure on Arsenal as they strove to hang on to their lead.
I suppose that it was inevitable that PSG would equalise from a penalty. Finally, after fully 65 minutes, Kvaratskelia played a one-two and went on the outside of Mosquera, only to be caught and brought down. A definite penalty... although - if I may indulge myself - the Georgian actually had a massive bleeding gash on a shin-guard shaped area on his shin from a previous challenge which might leave one to ask why he was allowed to still be on the pitch instead of being forced to have it patched up. Dembele, inevitably, sent David Raya the wrong way; and we all knew that from that point it was going to be super tough.
Arteta rang the changes. Odegaard, Saka, Trossard and Havertz off; along with the unfortunate Mosquera, who had done an excellent job in the circumstances - but it was time for Timber. And the game became a little more even, with the directness of Martinelli and Madueke proving more effective than the ball skills of Trossard and Saka, and with Eze finding pockets of space that Odegaard had failed to find. Gyokeres, however, struggled against the elite Parisien centre-forwards - thus adding fuel to the 'flat track bully' fire.
The biggest controversy, of course, was the non-penalty call on Madueke. He went down in a tangle of limbs with Nuno Mendes, and whilst all in my block were 120 yards away we - along with Arteta, Rice et al - were screaming PENALTY! Watching it back, I can see why it wasn't given. But for me it ought to have been. We've seen them given; that is for sure. And it wasn't given with the same haste as the PSG penalty was awarded - a split second!
After that, there was little to report as the game meandered towards penalties. For all his disappointing hold up play, however, it was Gyokeres who had the opportunity for immortality as he worked some space for himself on the edge of the penalty area in the very last minute of injury time; only for Nuno Mendes to block his goal-bound effort. Penalties...
And I sensed the worst before they even began. PSG won both tosses, so the kicks were at their end; plus they were going first. A recipe for disaster. With the other issue being that Saka, Havertz, Odegaard and Trossard were no longer on the field of play. For Arsenal, Gyokeres, Martinelli and Rice were emphatic, but Eze over-thought his kick and put it wide, and then Gabriel stepped up...
Surely you were thinking the same as I was. Gabriel? Really? Was there nobody else prepared to step up before him? Zubimendi? Timber? Madueke (despite his embarrassing miss at Portsmouth in the FA Cup)? Well done to Gabi for stepping up. And you can see what he was trying to do; to hammer the ball into the roof of the net. And such are the fine margins in football. The dream was over, and the Arsenal end was silent.
Kudos to his international centre-back partner, Marquinhos, for stopping on his way past to commiserate with Gabi. But it was the fans at the wrong end of the pitch who were celebrating. Most Arsenal fans hung around for a while, but I don't believe that many stayed for the trophy lift; my wife and I left as soon as the last Arsenal player had collected his medal.
The Arsenal fans filed away in almost complete silence. No anger. No violence. No anti-social behaviour. Which was all great to see. As we joined the throngs heading back to the centre of town, we felt pride and regret; and hope for the future. The best is yet to come from this group, and I believe that they will go again on the recruitment side over the summer. The football world is Arsenal's oyster - despite being up against the might of nation state-sponsored rivals. And remember, this Arsenal side were up against a PSG side who had played a dozen fewer matches than they had - and in a much less competitive league. We should have nothing but pride when we look back.
Maybe 4 hours sleep, and my wife and I were back on the road; due to a 7am return flight. The airport shuttles were due to be running until 6am, but had stopped by the time we got back to the Fan Park at 3.45, so we had to summon an Uber. It was a subdued and uneventful flight home, and whilst I had other arrangements for the afternoon my wife was back out and to the parade with two of our girls.
And despite the disappointment of the previous evening, the number who turned out for the parade, and the atmosphere throughout, were magnificent from what I saw, and what she witnessed. What a club we are. What a global reach we have. There is literally one team in London; and it's called The Arsenal. A beast has been unleashed.
Together, we can help take this club to the highest of heights. Stick with them, guys. The best is yet to come.
I'll be back with a short season review and a few awards and flowers in a few days. But for now the haters - full of envy as they are - can all f*ck off. COYG!!!
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