A minute before half‑time, with Arsenal 1-0 down, still a little clogged in midfield but pressing hard, an unseen brass band somewhere behind the press box began playing a jaunty, oddly mocking version of “No no, no no no no, no no no no, no no there’s no limits”.
The band had vanished by the time the players trooped off. Did it ever really exist? Was it another passing apparition in a wild, gripping, at times occasionally hallucinogenic game notable for the sight of two of the great control managers slightly losing the run of themselves, like a pair of chess nerds out there having a high-speed, full-contact game of draughts, pieces scattered, formations endlessly rejigged, Pep going full Pulis, Mikel Arteta chucking every attacking weapon into the breach, going after the last column of tanks with a soup ladle.
Fast forward another 45 minutes, with Arsenal still 1-0 down and entering stoppage time with five attackers on the pitch, Arteta could be seen sprinting to retrieve the ball, legs pumping in his tight grey slacks, a tender moment of total abandon that would be rewarded by Gabriel Martinelli’s equalising goal.
It was entirely deserved and a wonderful stand-alone moment of skill. Eberechi Eze, a half-time substitute, lifted a pass beyond the defensive line. Martinelli, an 80th‑minute substitute, made a lovely full-throttle run from right to left, took the ball on his big toe, then with the same left foot lifted it up and back and over the colossal figure of Gianluigi Donnarumma, the ball hanging deliciously for an extended moment in the evening air like an autumn moon, perfectly calm in the middle of all that fury.
Arsenal’s fans, players, managers – possibly even the brass band – writhed and leapt and made strange noises. Maybe there really are no limits.
But football is also a cruel, outcome-based thing. Arteta’s players were hugely committed. Arteta himself gambled repeatedly, reordered his team furiously, cracked the game open when he might have begun to fade into defeat. But Arsenal also ended the day five points behind the champions. And they also played liked dervishes only after a stodgy, self-limiting opening 45 minutes. For all the late energy to earn a draw, they really could and should have won this game. And Arteta will be criticised for this, will be accused of picking a team to stay in the game, of once again selecting his containment team. Is it fair?
Eberechi Eze should have been in the starting XI. Photograph: Tom Jenkins/The Guardian
Arteta doesn’t think so and dismissed this suggestion after the match. Is it, though? This is also a matter of grabbing hold of the moment. The big question seemed to be: have Arsenal learned from the Liverpool game? The early answer seemed to be, well, no. Here they faced another vulnerable title rival. Do you push it? Try to drive the outcome from the first moments?
In the event Arteta went again with Zubimendi-Rice-Merino in midfield, the blanket of suffocation. Leandro Trossard came in on the left ahead of Eze against another stand-in right‑back. Who would Abdukodir Khusanov rather play against? A good all‑purpose attacker? Or the dribbling nightmare, the guy who wants to test your balance every time?
Instead Arsenal started the game with the most sensational bench, a Champions League bench. Plus point: Arteta did use that bench. Negative: it’s, like, still the bench.
The Emirates Stadium was a lovely crisp green place at kick‑off, the sky a cold, hard, autumn blue. And the direction of the day was set after eight minutes as City scored a wonderful goal, an extended one-two from deep in their own half, made and finished by Erling Haaland, who played a lovely pass to Tijjani Reijnders then set off on a 60-yard sprint outside him. The return ball was just right, the first touch from Haaland deceptively perfect, taking it to his right foot, just far enough, away from his strong side, but to the right side to score, which he did by simply rolling the ball into the far corner, a finish that felt like a pat on the head. Yeah, we’re just doing this now, OK?
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It was the worst start for Arteta’s selection, which had been picked precisely to prevent this from happening. And Guardiola deserves credit for his own extreme versatility here, out on his touchline in black athleisure‑wear slacks, black leather shoes and dangly hoodie, like a man on his way to the annual skateboard collective fishing trip. City were set out to score like this and from there to clog the midfield, and ultimately to defend like men lashed together on the deck of a storm-racked ship.
They were helped by a lack of precision from Arsenal in that first half, a self-selecting absence of midfield craft. They missed Martin Ødegaard in that period. They knew they were going to miss him. This was not reflected in the team. Eze is a final-pass guy. But why wait, why leave this weakness in the starting XI?
And so Arteta’s own ledger will be split. The idea that Arsenal have No Excuses not to lead the way in the league will be trotted out once again. In reality, this is an endlessly complex sport. Arteta did reach on to the pitch and change the game. Nobody has ever made City play like this under Pep. Arteta is also allowed to learn about himself and about his team, which is stronger than any he has previously managed.
On the other hand, City did score that goal. Arsenal began like a team in the wrong gear. Liverpool, who really have thrown all their talent at this, can’t keep winning by one goal every week, we hear. This is true. They’re quite likely to start winning by three or four.
