Arsenal: The Sense of an Ending ... euphoria in Islington reminded me of 1989

At the end of Arsenal’s “lap of appreciation” on Monday night, after the 1-0 victory over relegated Burnley in their final home game of the season – the winner of course came from a set piece again, “ole, ole!” - Mikel Arteta was interviewed on the pitch.

High in the stands above a banner had been unfurled: “Mikel Knows.” It was an echo of the old “Arsene knows” refrain of the peak Wenger years when Arsenal played with such compelling fluency and were the envy of the game.

Before Arteta answered the first question, the crowd began singing his name. He paused for a long while, evidently moved, and then spoke: “It is a joy to witness the transformation of this place into the most beautiful place to watch a game of football.”

He was right about the transformation at the Emirates in recent seasons, though not even the most partisan fan could claim Arteta’s Arsenal play a beautiful game. As I stood listening to him – nearly everyone was standing by then - I thought back to another home game against Burnley in December 2020, during his second season in charge.

Arsenal lost 1-0 that night in an empty stadium during the dark days of pandemic restrictions and lockdowns. It was their fourth consecutive defeat at the Emirates, their worst run at home since the 1950s. Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, then club captain and later ostracised by Arteta, headed into his own goal from a corner, a fitting conclusion to a dismal match. Arteta looked on from the sidelines, utterly dejected.

At the time many fans believed the Arteta experiment was already approaching its end: it was a question not of if but when Arsenal would move on from their young coach, a former club captain who for all his intensity and self-assurance seemed adrift.

Arteta still had significant admirers, however, one being Pep Guardiola, under whom he had worked in his first coaching role. Another was Tim Cahill, his former Everton teammate. A month before the Burnley defeat Cahill had argued with Roy Keane on Sky Sports about the virtues of Arteta’s approach. “Mikel knows why Arsenal are losing,” Cahill said. “Arsenal are progressing because there is an identity, a formula to the way they play… Mikel deserves a lot of praise.” Keane was unconvinced.

Arteta’s most important backer was Josh Kroenke, the son of (“silent”) Stan Kroenke, the ultimate owner of Arsenal. At the start of the 2021-22 season Arsenal, who had twice finished eighth under Arteta, began with three consecutive league defeats, including a 5-0 humiliation at Manchester City. “The only guys you can trust are the ones in the room with you right now,” the younger Kroenke told Arteta, with Arsenal bottom of the table after the City game, in an exchange captured in an Amazon Prime docuseries. “Onward we go.”

Kroenke’s judgment has been vindicated: we all believe in Arteta now. It was notable that Kroenke and Arteta embraced on the pitch at the end of Monday night’s game. Arteta was dressed in his usual matchday uniform of black quarter-zipper, dark T-shirt, tight grey trousers and black shoes, his hair as thickly immoveable as Action Man’s. In vibe and style, he could be the super-smart CEO of a fast-rising global tech start-up: superbly articulate, multilingual, driven, hyperactive, very modern.

In a game addicted to short-term thinking, Arteta and Arsenal had a strategic long-term plan and the patience to implement it. After three consecutive second place finishes (they were accused of being “bottlers”) Arsenal are finally Premier League champions. They do not play with the swagger of the Wenger teams of old; they often remind me more of the mid-period, defensively impregnable George Graham team that won two league titles. “They are the best team we have faced this season,” said Diego Simeone after Atletico Madrid were beaten by Arsenal in the Champions League semi-final, “their rhythm and conviction are very hard to contain.”

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The euphoria and street celebrations in Islington that greeted Manchester City’s draw at Bournemouth on Tuesday took me back to the night of Friday 26 May 1989 when Arsenal beat Liverpool 2-0 at Anfield to win their first league title for 18 years on goal difference. Michael Thomas scored the decisive second goal to usurp leaders Liverpool with virtually the last kick of the last game of the last full season of the 1980s (my book about that season was inevitably titled The Last Game).

It’s easy being an Arsenal fan nowadays but it wasn’t always so. Growing up in Harlow new town in Essex in the 1970s, I was an outlier in our family: everyone else supported West Ham. At my school, you were either West Ham or Spurs. My father regularly took me to Upton Park, but one day in 1975, after I protested, we went to our first Arsenal game, a sixth-round FA Cup tie at Highbury against … West Ham. It was raining heavily, the pitch was carved up like a battlefield, there was fighting among rival fans on the North Bank and even in the seats behind us. Arsenal lost 2-0 but I loved the experience.

Supporting a football team, if you are a true fan, is in many ways irrational. It is a deep, emotional commitment and unbreakable, enduring for better or worse through the decades, an invisible chain connecting who you are today with the child you used to be.

All these thoughts came rushing back to me on Tuesday night when Arsenal were confirmed as champions; football does that to you. Fans struggle to live in the present because there’s always the last game to reflect on and the next one to consider.

For Arsenal what comes next is the conclusion of the Premier League season and then next weekend’s Champions League final against Qatar-backed Paris St-Germain, the most exciting team in world football.

I’m pretty sure I know who neutrals will want to win. But this Arsenal team, often dismissed as mechanical, formulaic (Cahill’s word) and too pragmatic, are unbeaten in the Champions League all season, and after years of near-misses they are, as Simeone said, “very hard to contain”. They have never won the European Cup. There is always a first time.