Blog

So it’s been a while and a lot has happened. Work and other commitments have limited my time recently, but I’m back. And since my last blog, we’ve gone from talking about a potential quadruple to now staring at a possible double, with the Premier League still the holy grail. City, of course, are still right there, still fighting, still refusing to disappear because they never do, and the League Cup final was a real reminder of that.

Let’s get it out of the way, two weeks, two cups, two losses.

The Carabao Cup final felt like a reminder that nothing in this league is handed to you. After a composed start and a Havertz chance that still stings, City completely shut us down on the day. Their four‑man screen suffocated our build‑up, and without Raya’s passing range, Kepa struggled to break lines or relieve pressure. We really did not know how to build up and get out of our half.

We all know who we’d have chosen in goal, but Arteta stuck to the “cup keeper” principle. You can argue this was the moment to be ruthless; he’s done it before with Özil, Aubameyang, the Martínez/Leno decision, and more recently Ramsdale. But he didn’t. And on the day, the better team won. Pep reminded everyone he still has the blueprint and years of experience to come up with the answer.

The Hincapié booking changed the entire dynamic for me. His game is built on aggression and energy, and once he was on a yellow he went nowhere near Semenyo. I thought Calafiori was the obvious halftime switch, both defensively and as a way to help us get out. Both City goals came down our left, with overlapping runs catching Trossard and Saka flat on the right, and O’Reily the hero on the day for City with his two goals powering in two headers. From there, it was an uphill slog on a Wembley pitch that somehow feels enormous and claustrophobic at the same time.

The quadruple talk was always media fantasy, but the Carabao Cup would’ve eased pressure and built that muscle memory of winning. Instead, it was a gut punch but not a knockout blow on this season, just a jolt back to earth and a reminder of the battle we’re in for the league title.

The international break was a mixed blessing. Good for fitness, bad for momentum. Sometimes you want a game immediately after a loss to flush it out of the system. Instead, we had two weeks to stew before a tricky FA Cup quarter-final away at Southampton.

I expected rotation, but the extent of it and a bench without Rice or Saka, both pulled out of England duty, was surprising. The opening minutes had a typical FA Cup feel. We dominated the ball, Southampton went long and direct at every opportunity, not something we face too often week in, week out. Ben White had his hands full with the tricky winger. Once we settled, we controlled a solid twenty‑minute spell, with Dowman the standout Arsenal player, fearless, sharp and showing how naturally gifted he is at just sixteen.

But the warning signs were there. A long ball, a mix‑up between Gabriel and Mosquera, and we were lucky to escape. Our best chance fell to Ødegaard, who scuffed a cutback from a prime position. Like Havertz at Wembley, if it goes in, the whole game flips and we most likely take further control of the tie.

Instead, Southampton struck first. A cross‑field ball, White mistiming his header, a touch and finish past Kepa. One‑nil at the break.

With so many changes, we looked ragged. The usual control just wasn’t evident on the night. Without Saliba, Timber, Rice or Zubimendi, the spine felt hollow. Nørgaard didn’t do anything wrong, but he can’t replicate the authority of our first‑choice midfield. Havertz is still finding rhythm, Ødegaard is building fitness, and Jesus looks half a yard off. Understandable, but noticeable.

Rotation is essential, but this game highlighted the gulf between starters and squad players.

The second half began the same way, sloppy, disjointed and vulnerable. Mosquera’s loose pass nearly gifted them a second. They hit the bar. Arteta waited ten minutes, made changes, and finally we sparked. Gabriel slid a clever ball into Havertz, who cut back for Gyökeres to finish. One‑one, and suddenly it felt like we’d go on to win.

Dowman kept driving us forward, gliding past players, drawing fouls, testing the keeper. But the missed chances piled up. Martinelli dragged a free shot wide from a short‑corner routine. And then came the sucker punch; a long goal kick, we lose the header, we back off, and Southampton fire low into the corner. Two‑one. Out of another cup in two weeks.

The lineup made it clear this was the third priority now. Sporting away midweek, Bournemouth on Saturday, both huge in terms of this season and the project as a whole. But even with rotation, that team should’ve been enough. Southampton are good, but we had a dominant spell and didn’t capitalise here. Too many players failed to seize their chance to stake a claim for the run‑in. One who absolutely did was Dowman. Sixteen years old, fearless, unscarred by past failures, playing with directness and purpose. If he ends this season with a medal, what a beginning that would be for the young man.

This team needs to reset. Three weeks ago, we were flying: ten points clear in the league after beating Everton before City played West Ham and drew leaving it at nine, and a solid performance against Leverkusen in Europe. The quality is there. The structure is there. The belief needs to return and have the same belief that has put this team in a great position in both the league and Europe.

Ignore the outside noise. Ignore the phone‑ins, the mockery, the rival fans enjoying their moment. Get the best players back on the pitch, trust the process that got us here, and grind it out by quality or by sheer will. This team needs to go on and win now.

Saturday was another blow, but not a fatal one. Lisbon awaits. A positive result there would steady the ship before Bournemouth.

Until the next one and speak soon. UTA.