Liverpool supporters embarrassed themselves by booing Trent Alexander-Arnold, while Arsenal averted a possible crisis of confidence going into next season.
It is a quirk of the fixture computer that we are so rarely treated to these games. With Premier League title races generally run breathlessly to the finish line and matches between the bigger teams typically avoided wherever possible in the closing weeks, newly-crowned champions facing their closest challengers as part of their trophy procession is a rare thrill.
Few matches are imbued with such inconsequential importance. If the title winners emerge victorious they are laying down a marker for their defence next season; the runners-up prospering is actually them making a statement about a renewed push for the crown, like when Manchester City prefaced their four consecutive titles by thrashing Liverpool in lockdown. The reaction is malleable and dependent entirely on the outcome.
But the alternative was a narrative-laden draw in which Liverpool took a flamethrower to the pretence their last few games might mean anything, and Arsenal were exposed by their campaign’s twin plot points of indiscipline and profligacy while still securing a result which should prevent their entire season from imploding.
The most significant part of the afternoon was obviously the guard of honour, but more specifically who would be seen to least enthusiastically adhere to a delightfully archaic and overblown media-driven phenomenon.
The rise of Myles Lewis-Skelly as the sport’s most weirdly and unnecessarily hated player was reinforced by the hilariously online response to him unforgivably not clapping as the Liverpool players walked out.
As luck would have it, he would not be the most vilified double-barrelled England international full-back for long.
Conor Bradley did his best to distract from the Trent Alexander-Arnold sideshow as early as the first minute, in which he unleashed upon poor Gabriel Martinelli a crunching challenge on the halfway line to further establish his future role in the starting line-up as Chief Distributor of Reducers.
It will be a strange transition for Liverpool if Bradley is entrusted with the right-back spot for a prolonged period. The shift from a cultured playmaker around whom the entire team must be built to not only platform his ball-playing skills but mask his defensive deficiencies, to a player accomplished enough in possession but ultimately driven by keeping things as far away from his goal as possible, will be an almighty culture shock.
One particular covering tackle on the hour when Martinelli had been played in behind showcased Bradley’s heightened awareness and positioning in comparison to his predecessor. But a needless yellow card showed naivety and perhaps forced the writing of the game’s biggest storyline.
It is curious, considering one of the more predictable reactions to Alexander-Arnold’s exit announcement was to collectively scream into the void that No Player Is Bigger Than The Club, how some Liverpool fans have subsequently made his departure and indeed their feelings on it far bigger than anything else on this protracted victory lap.
The boos which heralded his introduction and many a touch thereafter guaranteed that the biggest talking point of the next couple of weeks has been set, and instead of celebration and revelry the mood is fractured and frustrated.
Whether you sit on the side of the fence which views Alexander-Arnold as a treacherous defector who has callously robbed Liverpool of a transfer fee by running down his contract, or as a 26-year-old who has won everything possible with his boyhood club and would quite like to capitalise on the opportunity of a lifetime to represent the biggest club in world football for a bit, it just felt like such a fundamentally bizarre thing to do.
As those in the stands pressed the self-destruct button, so too did the players. Andy Robertson said after the game that “it’s not nice to see your friend get booed” and it didn’t feel like a coincidence that the home side slumped once the atmosphere inexorably changed to something weirdly toxic. Lost in the noise was how Alexander-Arnold’s teammates and colleagues must have felt hearing it.
Whatever ‘support’ has come to mean in modern sport, that felt like the precise opposite. Those Liverpool Fans – as they shall henceforth be known – derailed an entire game for the sole purpose of making sure the world could see them crying into a pillow after a break-up. It was embarrassing.
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The argument is that Alexander-Arnold has made his bed but it is unclear why that justifies Those Liverpool Fans deciding to defecate in it before laying next to him and furiously tutting in the hope of sparking a reaction like a couple whose relationship has run its natural course.
Therein obviously lies the problem: only one party believes that natural course to have run here, and the other is coming to terms with it in the public glare. There are certain elements of Liverpool as a club still processing a lifelong love choosing to move on. The tribalistic nature of fandom always leads to heightened emotions but cases as extreme as these prompt people to do things they would be the first to mock others for.
The hope is that differences can be put aside for the final home game of the season against Crystal Palace in a fortnight’s time – and thus the nonsensical idea of Alexander-Arnold sitting out the remainder of the season so as not to upset Those Liverpool Fans is ignored – or ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ might need to be tweaked slightly for accuracy.
“For me, I don’t believe any player putting on that red shirt who goes on to win trophies should be being booed,” said Jamie Carragher. “Booing one of your own players while they’re playing is not for me. That was a step too far. Don’t boo a player as it opens you up to criticism from supporters up and down the land about Liverpool supporters.”
That can’t be the great man telling Liverpool supporters how they should feel. And how terminally online it is to allow your behaviour to be led by the prospect of being mocked by rival fans.
With all that said, it was a phenomenal bit from Alexander-Arnold to be the last defender back playing Mikel Merino onside for the equaliser, before playing two exceptional long-range passes to create attacks while coming close to scoring from a free-kick.
It was a half-hour exhibition of what Liverpool stand to gain and lose with his exit. In a way it will be nice to go back to the Nathaniel Clyne days of barely noticing who is playing at right-back.
In the opening ten minutes both teams had one shot each which perfectly encapsulated their strengths.
Arsenal should have taken the lead when Bukayo Saka ghosted past Liverpool’s defensive line and Arsenal’s queuing forwards, both of whom retreated at a Martin Odegaard free-kick to present ample space at the back post. He skewed his finish and had time to even control it.
Soon after, Liverpool constructed a move of swashbuckling excellence through and around Arsenal, with Luis Diaz and Cody Gakpo involved in the build-up before a Curtis Jones trivela was played into the path of Mo Salah, who cut inside and back for Diaz to shoot against David Raya.
It was set-piece mastery against open-play brilliance, with balance restored to the equilibrium.
Then came five minutes which summed up Arsenal with excruciating accuracy.
Thomas Partey caught Jones on the ball in his own area as Odegaard and Leandro Trossard arrived to provide gratuitous reinforcement, so isolated was Alisson in the moment. Yet all three Arsenal players left it for a teammate in a dramatisation of the Spiderman meme, only with each pointing at the loose ball in the middle.
By the time Trossard managed to rustle up a shot, enough Liverpool defenders had gathered to block it and clear the danger.
Arsenal’s next meaningful touch was when William Saliba cleared the ball into touch after Gakpo had surged down the left, played in by a sublime Robertson ball. Jones took the throw-in quickly to the indefatigable left-back, whose pinpoint cross was met by the unmarked Gakpo at the front post to open the scoring.
An indecision and lack of ruthlessness in front of goal held Arsenal back at one end before poor concentration from a defensive set-piece undid them at the other.
There was a familiar vibe to proceedings when Diaz doubled Liverpool’s lead 87 seconds later. It felt like Arsenal were about to collapse to quick-fire goals at Anfield and suffer another of those four-goal shellackings handed out to Arsene Wenger, Unai Emery and Mikel Arteta in the last decade.
That they recovered to draw is a mark of their growth but that second Liverpool goal was a thing of beauty. Dominik Szoboszlai strode beyond the defence to control a bouncing ball, draw out Raya and square for Diaz to tap into an empty net, all in one motion.
The ball from Mo Salah in the build-up was stunning and further proof of a playmaking excellence and range of passing which is often overshadowed by his goal output. Any suggestion the Egyptian is overly dependent on his physical attributes is entirely undermined by that sort of delivery; it would be no surprise if he transitions to a slightly deeper role by the expiration of his new contract.
It was crucial for Arsenal to pull themselves from that spiral. As Jones forced a save from Raya a couple of minutes after the Diaz goal it seemed as though damage limitation was in order. The only way this game would have been imbued with significance beyond these 90 minutes is if Liverpool had dismantled and demoralised their closest challengers with a humbling that resonated through the summer.
Arsenal averted that potential crisis with a display of far greater purpose and pride in the second half, immediately responding through Martinelli’s header within 90 seconds before building to Merino’s equaliser.
It was a vital comeback in a quite pointless game, and proof that Arteta can still send a rocket up these players. Arsenal remain unbeaten in 21 Premier League games against the rest of the Big Six, dating back more than two years. If they had lost that record so carelessly it would have been an undoubted blow.
The marking for that Martinelli goal was impressively bad from Virgil van Dijk and Ibrahima Konate. Rarely have the post-season slippers and cigars been so proudly utilised in the middle of an actual game.
Odegaard needed this, or at least something along these lines. The Norwegian had not been good enough in the run-in and as captain and chief creator he would have felt that crushing responsibility more than anyone.
No Arsenal player really emerged from that first half with credit, which is testament to their character in making good on that in the second. Odegaard clattered one effort against the post for Merino’s goal and almost won it late on with a low drive which whistled past the post.
If the Gunners are to deliver on the foundations Arteta has built, it is contrary to growing belief in the fanbase but Odegaard still has an integral part to play.
The turning point for Arsenal might have been the deployment of Martinelli as the centre-forward instead of Trossard. They combined almost immediately after swapping positions and the Brazilian’s off-the-ball runs behind were a constant threat.
There was at least one occasion Arsenal should have made far more of his movement but after shifting away from that style of play it can be tougher to either spot those openings or instinctively take advantage of them. A deep-sitting Odegaard took another touch and by then it was too late.
Merino did score but the way Martinelli stepped up a gear after half-time does prompt questions as to whether he was worth a look there during their attacking experimentation phase post-January?
Merino was ultimately sent off for a deserved second yellow, marking Arsenal’s sixth red card of the Premier League season.
That triggered a peculiar final ten minutes or so as Arsenal suddenly but obviously not inexplicably started to sink, seemingly abruptly realising a point might actually be handy in a Champions League qualification race they have not quite yet run.
Liverpool lazily passed the ball around in stoppage time, sort of searching for a winner more through professional duty than any actual desire, in front of a hilariously unarsed home support a great deal of whom had already hijacked the game anyway, with Arsenal planting every player behind the ball.
Arteta said after the game it was “about pride as well” and Arsenal made sure to recover it after that dreadful start.
It was almost all for nought but Robertson’s goal was disallowed for Konate’s foul on Lewis-Skelly at a corner that the coward Alisson opted not to come up for with barely any time left to play. If Those Liverpool Fans want to boo anyone it should be him.
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