In the 95th minute, Martin Ødegaard surged through on goal with the away fans rising in anticipation, sensing a potentially iconic moment. But the shot dragged wide, and with it went the chance for late drama that might have mattered if only the stakes were higher. Despite all the entertainment this match delivered goals, controversy, tension it ultimately served as a reminder of what wasn’t on the line. This was a match that looked like a title decider, felt like one, but wasn’t.
That absence of real consequence seemed to influence everything, from the play on the pitch to the energy in the stands. With Liverpool long since out of the title race and Arsenal just out of reach, the match became a theatre of playful chaos rather than decisive ambition. The triviality of the fixture opened space for emotion to overflow in unexpected ways, none more glaring than the reaction to Trent Alexander-Arnold.
Midway through the second half, when Alexander-Arnold came on as a substitute, he was met not with cheers but with boos from his own fans a moment that would have been unthinkable in a genuine title chase. The jeering, though petty and ungrateful on the surface, spoke to a deeper truth about fandom. This was not calculated criticism, but instinctive reaction. Football supporters, at their most honest, are rarely fair or measured. And that’s part of what makes the sport what it is.
The act of booing Alexander-Arnold wasn’t about rejecting his legacy but about reinforcing the sense of tribal belonging. In a club and city where emotional bonds often come with strict terms, loyalty is expected to be complete and unyielding. Anything less can feel like betrayal. In that sense, the reaction said more about the fans than the player. This is our family, and you’re either fully in or you’re out. It was a cold, almost ruthless moment of reckoning.
Yet Liverpool’s cold streak is not new. The club has shown a willingness to be brutal in its pursuit of evolution. Key players of recent years Fabinho, Henderson, Milner, Keïta, Firmino were moved on with little sentimentality. This side, while celebrated for its passion and emotional connection, has a steelier edge than it often gets credit for. Romanticism is the branding; pragmatism is the practice.
This is the edge that still eludes Arsenal. The second-half comeback showed character, but familiar questions hang in the air. Why hasn’t Gabriel Martinelli stepped up? Why did Ødegaard’s form vanish just when he was needed most? Why does the midfield still lack a clear successor to Thomas Partey? The decision to extend Jorginho’s contract, while others would have cut ties, typifies a club still clinging to comfort over clarity.
More broadly, the squad feels burdened by self-justification and an overemphasis on process. There is quality in abundance, but also too many passengers, too much drift. Saka, once the beating heart of this side, hasn’t kicked on. The absence of a truly elite striker remains glaring. The answers aren’t simple, but the time for patience is running out.
This game didn’t decide a title. But if Arsenal learn from what they saw not just on the pitch, but in the ruthlessness of their opponents it might help decide the next one.
