When at last The Never Ending Story reached its final page, there was Bukayo Saka standing at the north end of the Santiago Bernabéu shrugging a familiar shrug that says: how about that, then? And that was pretty special, Arsenal’s own story written as Mikel Arteta had asked and given a scene they will remember for a long time, a coming of age. The goal that finally confirmed that they were heading into their third ever European Cup semi-final was a portrait of the way they had played here: an exercise in patience, control, and maturity.
Precision, timing and courage too. Saka had missed a first-half penalty that might have set up their passage sooner, that could have felt like a catastrophe then amidst the noise of the lion’s den into which they had stepped, but he was not sunk, nor scared. None of them were: not by the legend, the atmosphere, the history, not by the players before them either. There was none of the fatalism or the fear that saw so many others crumble and fall here, none of Madrid’s mystique either. Instead, the Santiago Bernabéu spell was broken, Real Madrid eliminated and deservedly so.
At no point was Arsenal’s 3-0 first-leg lead in real danger, not even when they gifted Madrid an absurd equaliser immediately after Saka’s goal. The kind of moment that usually sparks madness, a sense of impending doom, did not; the men in black ensured as much. And then, as if to underline their superiority – and make no mistake, over these two legs they have been far, far superior to Madrid – Gabriel Martinelli escaped through the middle of what little was left of the home defence in the last minute and slotted past Thibaut Courtois.
Arsenal had not just beaten the European champions across two games, winning 5-1 on aggregate, they had beaten them in two games. High in the stands above fans sang long into perhaps the greatest night in their European history, completed on its grandest stage and in grand style.
They blew Madrid away a week ago; now they managed them, Declan Rice, Martin Ødegaard and Thomas Partey dominating midfield, taking control before clinically finishing the task. For all the comeback narrative that had been built against them, there was no sign of nerves and only one bit of bad news – a late yellow card that means Partey will miss the first leg against PSG.
Arsenal had started well and might have started perfectly. Saka flashed a shot past the post and saw another pushed away by Courtois before he passed up a glorious opportunity to make this an even more comfortable night. Twelve minutes had gone when François Letexier was called to the VAR screen where, in slow motion, he saw Raúl Asencio pull down Mikel Merino. Saka clipped the penalty too low and too soft, allowing Courtois to reach up a right hand to palm it away, this place erupting.
If that seemed like the spark Madrid needed, the fatalism flooding through Arsenal, it was quickly followed by another. Or so, at least, it seemed when Letexier gave a penalty for a tug on Kylian Mbappé. Declan Rice though protested his innocence and although it took a good five minutes to go and look, the referee eventually agreed.
Relief reinforced the plan. Arteta’s team managed the tempo, slowing down when it suited and occasionally stepping out. He had talked about the value of frustrating Madrid, turning that expectation against them, and that was a fairly accurate description of what was happening. David Raya was booked for time-wasting but not called on to make a save in the first half. Courtois had made three, the last a sharp stop from Rice.
Madrid lacked structure and ideas, a Lucas Vázquez cross that curled all the way through proving to be about the best they could offer and an indication of their limitations. Nor did they really have the energy to create the chaos they sought. There was a tiredness about them, little spark.
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Rice had to stop Jude Bellingham, as he had done so throughout this tie, and Mbappé headed over but Arsenal were so in control there were soon oles accompanying their moves. That might not have been a great idea, given that Madrid soon robbed and ran away but the break ended tamely enough with their first shot on target.
Raya comfortably gathered Vinícius Júnior’s shot then and soon after Arsenal took the lead. The goalkeeper’s long ball was nodded on by Rice. Saka came inside, went to Ødegaard, who slowed, waited and chose judiciously as ever. Merino was the next man introduced to the move, slipping a clever ball through the gap. And there was Saka, dinking it coolly, gently over Courtois.
This was not the way visitors are supposed to behave here; what came next was a goal gifted out of nowhere when William Saliba, looking away, lost possession. Vinícius smashed the ball into an empty net, suddenly there was a roar, a flicker of hope, a reaction to something so ridiculous that for a moment Madrid thought that maybe, maybe, it could be the start of something even more ridiculous.
Arsenal though weren’t going to let that happen: not now, not ever, Martinelli adding the final line of the story they will tell for a long time.
