They had been the laughing stock for the last three years, but at last Arsenal managed to get their hands on the holy grail of English football. Columnist Joe Lubasa tells the story of the nail-biting moments that led to the historic title win and the events that followed.
Picture credit: Ben Osei
It was the sight of the Manchester City fan holding up an Arsenal bottle that started it. My phone was buzzing repeatedly, messages were flooding through from friends, all taking the opportunity to have a laugh at my expense.
We went from a 12-point gap at the top to six in a matter of games. I could hear shouting and laughing floors above me in my student flat as I watched all nightmares start to come true.
If you told me at the beginning of the season that on Sunday, May 24, Arsenal would be standing at Selhurst Park with the Premier League trophy, I would’ve laughed at you. The bitter upset and PTSD of the last three seasons crept up on me.
Back-to-back-to-back second place finishes. I don’t think I could take anymore heartache like that.
But here we are, after 22 years. I can finally say that in my lifetime I’ve seen Arsenal lift the holy grail.
We last won it in 2004. I was two years old. But on Tuesday, May 19, the lives of Arsenal fans across the world would change forever.
Bournemouth were holding a narrow lead until the 90th minute. That was until Man City decided to mount a comeback and secure a late equaliser. Typical. Just when you think you’re on the brink of greatness, they come and spoil the party.
It wasn’t enough, though. The final whistle blew to confirm champion status for my team and a bitter second place finish for Pep Guardiola.
It was almost simultaneous. I looked on my phone to see social media go into a frenzy after official confirmation. The streets that followed up to the Emirates stadium flooded so quickly, you would have thought we played that same night. North London had never seen anything like this before. This was an unofficial celebration. I could only imagine what the official parade will look like.
It had been a season where the pressure was piling up. I was sick to death of being the laughing stock of the football world, so to experience that feeling of euphoria is something that will stick with me for a very long time.
For the amount of highs I went through, the lows hit harder. I knew the team had to be borderline perfect. I’ve lost count of how many times I’d held back from throwing my phone to the floor. I’d always stopped myself. I remembered for one, the league had always been in our hands, there was no need to get so scared. And for two, phones are expensive to fix, and that’s a luxury I cannot afford right now.
But in matchweek 32, watching City put three past Chelsea, the fears started to come back. Old matches started to run through my head. Villa at home two years ago, Villa away earlier in the season, Bournemouth the game before.
My worst fears were coming true.
I can happily say I’ve forgiven Bournemouth for what they did to us at home. In the end we’ve both come out of it well. They’ve secured European football for the first time in their history. And I got to see my beloved Arsenal win the league after a 22-year drought.
All I can say is Kroupi Jr, you’ve made yourself an Arsenal legend without wearing an Arsenal top.
It’s been well over a week since my dreams became reality, and my old friend Omar still hasn’t picked up the phone. I guess now that it’s going on 13 years since Manchester United last won the league, I’d be quiet too.