Mikel Arteta learnt the hard way that Arsenal cannot confect a fortress

Telegraph

30-04-2025

As a cri de coeur, Mikel Arteta's video message to Arsenal fans packed quite the punch. Staring straight down the lens, and jabbing his finger in the style of Lord Kitchener to tell supporters how much their club needed them, he demanded that 'every pass, every tackle, every run, every decision' be cheered so that his players could feel the connection. For such rhetoric to work, though, you tend to need some of the ball in the first place. And as Arsenal found themselves outsmarted and outmanoeuvred at every turn by Paris St-Germain, the manager's tub-thumping achieved the opposite of the intended effect, with a delirious pre-match atmosphere curdling by the final whistle into one of bitterness and regret.
Bring everything tonight. pic.twitter.com/jCnFsWH2IQ
— Arsenal (@Arsenal) April 29, 2025
This was supposed to be a night like no other at the Emirates: one where Arsenal would make good on all the yearning, and where Arteta's sloganising about 'our time' would propel them towards a first Champions League final for 19 years. He has spoken repeatedly about trying to create greater intensity at home, even urging fans to make this stadium more hostile than Anfield. Except such a reputation can only be earned, not confected. Where Liverpool have the timeless strains of You'll Never Walk Alone, Arsenal's battle cry of North London Forever has only existed since 2022. Arteta demanded a fortress, but in the end PSG stormed the ramparts with alarming ease.
By the end, the atmosphere felt horribly lukewarm, with anticipation replaced by foreboding for the second leg at 1-0 down. The never-say-die spirit mandated by Arteta simply never materialised. In fact, the more impressive choreography at kick-off came courtesy of PSG fans, whose co-ordinated bouncing was relentless. A key reason is cultural, of course: England simply has no equivalent of the European ultras culture, with Crystal Palace's self-styled 'Holmesdale Ultras' consisting of little more than a few die-hards with a drum. Here, at a Champions League semi-final under a perfect evening sky, there was perhaps the most vivid manifestation of the difference. While PSG's disciples took over Trafalgar Square before marching towards the Emirates, Arsenal could only conjure a giant red tifo with a cannon.
In fairness, this was not the fans' fault. Many had wanted to produce a banner to remember, but instead the club provided one so underwhelming it looked as if it had been rushed out at the last minute by an Islington printing shop. Not that this stopped Wayne Rooney from rounding on Arsenal's support. 'I was disappointed with the fans,' he said. 'They really pushed the team against Real Madrid, but I thought they were subdued, it was almost like it was an anticlimax, like they thought they were going to walk into the final. But fans have to be there. The players have to do it, too, but it wasn't good enough on either side.'
Arteta could point out, quite rightly, that he should not be lectured by a man who has conspired to relegate Birmingham and, imminently, Plymouth. And yet the awkward truth was that Arsenal shrivelled under the spotlight. On the grandest European night here since 2006, Arteta's rabble-rousing served only to make his players too het up, too emotional, too skittish as they spent the first 15 minutes chasing shadows. Never mind applauding madly for every successful pass, fans barely had a chance to murmur as they watched PSG string 26 together en route to Ousmane Dembélé's goal. From there, the longed-for passion evaporated, with supporters instead turning their ire on referee Slavko Vincic for showing Bukayo Saka a dubious yellow card.
Arteta has done so much right in his 5½ years in charge, turning Arsenal from dysfunctional also-rans into Premier League runners-up three years in a row, not to mention engineering arguably their greatest performance in living memory against Real just three weeks ago. If he has any weakness, however, it is that he can sometimes strain too hard in sight of the prize. He is always a cat on a hot tin roof on the touchline, living every triumph and torment with his players. But there is no requirement for him to transmit such jitters to the stands. Fan fervour at these games should be allowed to develop organically, not insisted on almost as a condition of entry.
For that reason, Arteta's call to arms, beamed out on the giant screens, ultimately felt unnecessary. How many times have you seen Pep Guardiola, at whose feet Arteta learned his craft, pull such a stunt? Yes, Guardiola is fearsomely exacting with his players, berating them even when they are having the games of their lives. But he has known better than to pre-record some rebel yell for fans before a ball has been kicked. There is also a certain light and shade: during the tense, Treble-deciding Champions League final in 2023, he implored his Manchester City players to relax. Arteta, by contrast, is so hyperactive, so perpetually wired, that he risks leaving himself and everybody else wrung out with stress.
This is hardly a lost cause just yet. After all, Liverpool have already shown this season how to win 1-0 at Parc des Princes. But on this evidence you fear for Arsenal, so dramatically were they undone by PSG's slickness and superior self-belief. If there is one change Arteta should implement for the return leg in Paris in eight days' time, it is to dial down the hysteria, to trust more in his own methods than in the gratuitous Churchill-esque flourishes.