Arsenal 2-1 Wolves
File this one under burn after reading or for me burn after writing this thing. My mind was, ‘get out of the Emirates, take the three points, and never speak of this game again’. Unfortunately, here I am doing exactly that.
The pre match chatter was all about what the scoreline could be, pundits and podcasters predicting 3, 4, 5, even 6‑nil. Football, eh? What we got instead was a throwback to last season’s struggles against low blocks. Yes, we’ve found ways this year, set pieces especially but our best only real first half chance summed it up, a deep, floated corner to the back post, Martinelli somehow heading it back where it came from instead of goalwards.
Beyond that? No shots on target. Saka whipped in a brilliant ball across the box, Gyökeres stretching but failing to connect. Wolves even had the best chance of the half, Zubimendi’s lazy pass intercepted, Hwang sprinting the length of the pitch, Timber chasing like his life depended on it, Raya saving well. A huge warning.
That was as close as either side came before the break. In hindsight, the starting XI felt clunky, lacking rhythm and pace. Another reshuffled backline didn’t help; Saliba back but stationed on the left, Timber central, Hincapié at left‑back, White on the right. The left side was ineffective, everything funnelled down the right, Martinelli struggling without his usual connection with Calafiori.
And then, of course, another defensive injury. White’s hamstring gone, expected to be another player facing a few weeks out. Timber shifted to right‑back, Skelly on at left‑back, Hincapié tucked inside. Ironically, the change injected life; Myles added zip, Wolves pressed high, but his composure in possession opened space. Yet once the ball reached midfield, everything slowed. Wolves regrouped, Arsenal shuffled, frustration grew around the Emirates.
Pre‑match, the idea of an Eze‑Odegaard‑Rice midfield was intriguing. Against a low block, it made sense. Instead, we got Zubimendi and Rice together, in my mind maybe too cautious, too blunt. Eze was crowded out, unable to make any influence on proceedings. The game cried out for Odegaard; someone to turn in tight spaces, link with Saka and deliver that killer ball we lacked.
Arteta didn’t wait long to make changes. Ten minutes into the second half and as they readied on the side of the pitch, Martinelli finally burst into life, beating Doherty down the left, firing across the box, Gyökeres perhaps better placed at the back post for an easy finish. Then came the changes; Trossard, Merino, Odegaard on for Eze, Zubimendi, Martinelli.
Instant improvement. Trossard, in particular, is becoming Mr Reliable. Intelligent, decisive, always picking the right pass. He finally brought Gyökeres into play, floating balls in behind. The striker’s game looked to be passing him by, but his movement never stopped. After halftime he held play up better, linked with teammates, and crucially looked far more effective with Trossard alongside him.
The breakthrough came from a corner; Saka’s whipped delivery tipped onto the post, rebounding off Johnstone in the Wolves goal and into the net. Fortunate, but just deserved for the slight improvement after the break. Wolves stuck to their plan, though, and stayed in it, defending in a pack even a goal down. Gyökeres forced a save, some good hold up play, turning his defender and firing low across the goal. Trossard went close with a disguised near‑post effort but that as close as it got to doubling the lead going into the latter stages of the game.
The atmosphere grew nervy. Jesus returned to Premier League action,replacing Gyökeres for the final ten minutes. Wolves, seemed energised with a flurry of substitutions, pushed us further and further back. We sat deeper, failed to make counters stick, and looked jittery, shades of Sunderland and Villa, shades of last Christmas when points slipped away, I thought about Everton at home, Fulham away December last year.
And then, the gut punch late, with some really hesitant defending, Bukayo caught in two minds, Hincapié occupied, the cross whipped in, flicked past Raya. 1‑1. Against the bottom side.
As Wolves celebrated the equaliser, six minutes added time announced around the ground. Arsenal in the game kept crossing, some good, some poor, but persistence paid of big style here. Saliba linked with Rice, Rice urged him forward, ball to Saka, another wicked delivery. Jesus darted across Mosquera, unsettling the defender. From the stands it looked like a clinical header, in reality, another own goal. Pure relief and escape of dropping two points.
The stuff of champions? Results-wise, yes. Performance-wise, not close. This was one for Agent J and K’s memory eraser from Men in black to erase this from everyone’s minds. But wins like this, ugly as they are, can prove crucial come May.
Thankfully, a full week off now before Everton away. Time, hopefully, to get defensive reinforcements back; though Gabriel’s absence remains a worry. We’re in a dip, but all importantly, still top, City looming, the pack chasing including Villa who will take confidence from what they witnessed on Saturday evening.
So forget this blog as soon as you can. Move on, chill out. It was never in doubt… was it? Until the next one. UTA.
The View From Block 107 