As the referee and his assistants left the Emirates Stadium pitch at full time, striding off in the classic three-abreast formation, in its own way a little martyred and theatrical, they were greeted with a thrillingly pent-up round of boos from the home support.
Was this fair? Virgil van Dijk had somehow got away with kicking Kai Havertz. Arsenal might have had a first-half penalty, but, well, not really. The problem with becoming convinced that the world is against you is sometimes it starts to feel like it actually might be, because the world is basically against everyone anyway. But not so much here. This was more a sense of people simply wanting to feel something, as memories of an energetic but oddly shapeless afternoon faded with the empty home-time music.
Was this a good game? Kind of. There was energy, skill, hustle, defensive grit. But this was also a 2-2 draw that always felt like it was telling you something behind its hand, a game that showcased both teams’ weaknesses as well as their strengths.
In Arsenal’s case this was mainly their attacking dependence on Bukayo Saka. For Liverpool it was that sense of an oddly mannered work in progress under Arne Slot, the feeling of energy being expended usefully but without edge.
There had been a fear in the buildup to this game that what we might see was a meeting of deathly new-model systems-ball, competing versions of Pep Guardiola‑style possession and control. The anxiety of influence: this is a problem for every team attempting to chase down Manchester City’s generational machine. Can you really overhaul this thing by trying to be a version of it? Those elements you love and which inspire you are also patterns you have to escape. Even the points of difference become a response, an overcorrection. José Mourinho, for all his flaws, at least wanted to burn it all down from the start.
There are, of course, major tonal and tactical differences between these two teams. Liverpool under Slot are looking for control above all. Arsenal have become a hot mess, a team to which things just keep happening, conspiracies, heartache, rage-wins, vindicated or flagellated every week.
But the style is similar. What the Premier League gives you now is opposed blocks of colour, possession in isolation. Under Jürgen Klopp Liverpool tried to disrupt this, to enact a kind of high‑speed Jackson Pollock, to create splurges and splashes between the lines. With Slot they have a Mondrian. Crisp hard lines. Squares of red and black.
They had a chance to win this game, to press the throttle as Arsenal’s defence fell away in the second half, its parts disappearing and being replaced by whatever came to hand in the moment: a hatstand, a broom handle, a labrador in an overcoat. A point was still well deserved. Is it enough? For now, in October, in an evolving team. But we have also seen this movie before. And winning the league tends to require something more active.
It would also be unfair to suggest Arsenal played badly here. The first half was basically an attacking masterclass from Saka, who was not just the best player on the pitch in that period but a completely different player to everyone else. What he does isn’t shocking or wildly creative. He’s more like a ghost in the machine in games such as this, apparently alone in being able to see and move into those unexpected areas between the rigid lines, a knight surrounded by rooks and bishops.
With nine minutes gone Saka scored a wonderful goal. It came from a lovely, lofted, fading pass over the top by Ben White, and from there three perfect touches by Saka. The first was a little hop up and carry-on, the second a half-volleyed chop inside through Andy Robertson’s legs that left him breakdancing on the Emirates Stadium turf, head wrenched around just in time to see Saka hammer the ball into the near corner.
From there Arsenal pretty much died away in the second half, and understandably so. With 74 minutes gone the back four was Partey-Kiwior-White-Lewis-Skelly, which has a clear Wenger-era Worthington Cup feel to it. Where, exactly, was Carl Jenkinson in all this?
Liverpool’s equaliser was sublime, a wonderful pass from Trent Alexander-Arnold, lovely run and finish from Mohamed Salah, the perfect dink inside from Darwin Núñez. But either side’s attempts to turn possession into chances often felt like watching someone trying really hard to get some work done on their laptop in a busy drunken train carriage.
By the end, for all the positives on both sides, it was hard to avoid the sense that neither of these teams really look like title winners. Both will evolve and regain players. But without Martin Ødegaard Arsenal really do lose the ability to channel the ball forward effectively in broken play. The most interesting thing about Gabriel Martinelli is simply how good he makes Saka look. It’s like having your own dedicated hype man out there.
Both of these teams have chosen to sand down their edges, to aim instead for control and intensity, in varying degrees. Slot has had a wonderful start but will need to find those gears to win games like these. In the meantime this felt, once again, like a game Manchester City won simply by being Manchester City, the ur-version of the model.
