TF Match Report -Arsenal 1-0 Newcastle United

Sam was in the North London library this afternoon for an occasion when the result certainly did not match the performance.

Many of the several-thousand crammed into the Emirates corner will have wandered over the Ken Friar Bridge to the away end half-a-dozen, ten, maybe even 12 times or more. With the odd exception, the norm has been that no hands are required to tally the points gained on the return crossing. Again, on Sunday that was the case, although it is doubtful whether there will have been many, if any, occasions where the majority will have left with such a sense that United’s performance and result were unmatched.

Sure, this was not Newcastle’s intense, beastly best, and, naturally, the cup semi-final levels were not found. But in a perverse way, it was better than that. Bear with me. You see, whereas on that gloriously chilly Monday night in January - as with the floodlight point of a few years back - a perfect plan was perfectly executed by a team playing above and beyond, this felt different.

Newcastle – who remember could have gone second with victory - were comfortable, confident even. There were neat little passing triangles, a desire to exploit space and moments of real quality, too. Tino Livramento has not only switched flank recently, but also mastered the art of inversion more quickly than Sam Allardyce earned and then lost himself the England gig. Bruno Guimarães’s first-time, first-half pass to set Anthony Gordon haring down the left is worth a second and third viewing. The back three appeared completely at ease together, showing the kind of comfort usually only seen in former Uni flatmates still able to finish each other’s gags despite spending decades apart.

Yes, yes, Newcastle lost the game – why obsess over such small detail? - but Declan Rice’s winner was a worldie, and came only after a Gordon touch heavy enough to have sunk the Ever Given. It was not Gordon’s only wobbly second, but it was the decisive one. He owes everyone a proper performance.

Aside from Arsenal’s goal, Nick Pope’s only other moment of (non-self-inflicted) alarm was a point-blank save from a set-piece header by unnamed Premier League footballer, 31. What a stop it was, too.

While we’re on corners, how hilarious it is for all the talk of Mikel Arteta’s dynamic, easy on the eye style, that he has essentially taken six years and a shit load of cash to build a Hackney-fied version of Stoke, a Tony Pulis side with a hipster barber and clutching an oat Flat White. Lol.

Anyway, long before United went one down a lead could and perhaps should have been taken. It also could, and perhaps should, have been doubled. Alas, the blockers were two-fold.

First, David Raya denied Bruno, Harvey Barnes, Sven Botman, and Dan Burn. Yes, the same Big Sven who enjoyed a Jesus-esque resurrection to miraculously last an hour despite exclusive, breaking news not days earlier that his season was done and oh how we should worry for his future.

Then there was an unshakeable sense that Alex Isak – ineligible against his parent club in a post-Lomana LuaLua world - or indeed any other forward with even middling mobility, might have steered a deserved point (or more) Tyneside way.

Look let’s not skirt around it, but let’s also not be disrespectful or abusive either. It is obvious to everyone what Callum Wilson can and cannot offer as a Premier League centre-forward now. And, sadly, while he has excelled in the past, this season’s body of evidence points to any new contract coming with a significant salary reduction and being bonus based. That ‘Osula’ was comfortably the most uttered word on the concourses as mid-game pints were gulped is telling. Thank you Callum, genuinely thank you, but that's that now.

Still, having said all that, United were defeated, and the idea that a point would not have been precious is tosh. While it would not have changed the fact that Champions League qualification will come with victory next Sunday, it means that, although not quite win or bust, failure to beat Everton will leave United requiring snookers.

Isak’s fitness will doubtless be the subject that ITKs major on over the next week. News of his absence did not filter through until the internet signal returned during the long walk down the tunnel of Arsenal tube station. Strangely, it did not audibly dampen the mood – the cries of ‘it must be the ball’ continued to bounce off the dirt-soaked tiles as if it mattered not.

Perhaps that is because, having lifted a pot, this season will, quite rightly, be regarded as successful whatever happens next weekend. That is doubtless why the away end had a last-day-of-school feel, a sense of a job well done despite plenty of jeopardy remaining. It was, as is usually the case on the last trip of a season, an afternoon to reel through the songbook. There were even a few witty new additions. “You’ve got a drum; you are a cunt” was a real winner - albeit it took some time for the masses to learn the lyrics in full.

Thankfully, the end of term feeling did not reach those on the pitch, and they remained fully committed right to the very last. Whatever Dan Burn did that led to a lengthy VAR check shortly before the final whistle was magic. For the entire travelling contingent to be able to deliver the words “you’re going to win fuck all” at Arsenal, at their house, having claimed a trophy of our own, was glorious.

What else will be glorious? Beating Jordan Pickford and his cronies next week. Nowt else will suffice.

Sam Dalling

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Image: Neil Patterson (thank you!)

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