I don’t really like football. I like Arsenal. Everything else is background noise.
So, when Arsenal loses like we did to Manchester United it doesn’t feel like “just a game.” It feels personal. Logic says calm down: we’re still top, still strong, still contenders. But fandom doesn’t run on logic. It runs on scars.
The head loss comes fast. Doomscrolling. Group chats melting down. Blame everywhere. Refs, rivals, narratives, conspiracies. We’ve all been there. Because deep down, Arsenal fans don’t fear losing a match we fear the story repeating itself.
That United defeat cracked something. Not the team. The fanbase. Silence at the Emirates. A few boos. Old thoughts creeping back: Are we bottling it again? Is this the peak? Years of false dawns don’t disappear just because the table looks good in January.
That’s the truth no rival understands. Being four points clearly doesn’t bring joy. It brings pressure. Every win is relief. Every loss is trauma. This season was supposed to be different and that “supposed to” is heavy.
But here’s the thing: title races are never clean. Champions stumble. What matters is what comes after.
When Mikel Arteta spoke with calm and conviction, it mattered. Because belief is fragile and right now, fans need it as much as players.
So let this defeat be a line in the sand. Not just for the squad, but for us. No more instant meltdowns. No more eating ourselves alive at every setback. If April and May are coming and they, are we can’t arrive already broken.
Back the team. Make the Emirates loud again. Lose with defiance, not panic. Believe without conditions.
If we want champions on the pitch, we need to act like champions in the stands.
COYG.
