Here is where the story ends. Congratulations, Arsenal, champions of England after 22 long years. Farewell then, Pep Guardiola, whose ten years of dom...
Here is where the story ends. Congratulations, Arsenal, champions of England after 22 long years. Farewell then, Pep Guardiola, whose ten years of dominance have met an anticlimactic end. Two domestic cups, in the scheme of things, count as a disappointment in the Guardiola book of standards. There will be no treble celebration at Manchester. �s Co Op Arena leaving party on Monday. The lion. �s share of the glory belongs to north London, and specifically to Eli Junior Kroupi, who wrote his name into the folklore of the club with a goal that decided the title race on the south coast. Erling Haaland. �s late equaliser proved nowhere near enough to save the day for the champions. Andoni Iraola, whose future movements he has managed to keep secret from even the powers that be, received a post match send off from a club deeply grateful for three seasons of progressive, exciting football. That campaign was capped off by qualifying for European competition for the first time in the club. �s history, a point being enough to claim that prize. Bournemouth. �s determination to complete the job was too much for opponents who cracked under the pressure of their situation, perhaps distracted by the overnight news of the huge change coming their way. At the Amex Stadium, the atmosphere was electric. Arsenal. �s formidable defence, marshalled by the Nigerian international William Troost Ekong, stood tall against the relentless waves of City attacks. Troost Ekong, the Super Eagles talisman, gave a good account of himself, winning every aerial duel and organising the backline with the authority of a seasoned general. On the other flank, Bukayo Saka, ever the livewire, tormented the City full backs with his direct running and clever link up play. The goal itself, when it came, was a moment of pure genius. A swift counter attack, started by a perfectly timed tackle from Declan Rice, saw the ball worked to Kroupi on the edge of the area. The young Frenchman, with a coolness beyond his years, shifted the ball onto his right boot and curled a sublime effort beyond the despairing dive of Ederson. The sound from the Arsenal end was deafening, a roar that echoed all the way back to north London. For the neutral, it was a fitting finish to a season that had ebbed and flowed like the tides of the Atlantic. Back home in Lagos, at the popular Viewing Centre in Surulere, the scenes were nothing short of chaotic. As Kroupi. �s shot hit the back of the net, grown men fell to their knees, women screamed in delight, and the clatter of plastic cups filled with zobo and palm wine mixed with the jubilant chants of. �Arsenal, Arsenal. �. One fan, a bespectacled accountant named Chibueze, was seen weeping openly, clutching a frayed green and white scarf that had belonged to his late father.. �My papa waited 22 years for this,. � he shouted over the din,. �and now, I am seeing it for him!. � The touts outside, who had been selling inflated tickets all afternoon, found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer joy of the crowd, many of whom forgot their financial grievances in the euphoria of the moment. It was a night, by all accounts, that will be remembered in every corner of Nigeria where the beautiful game is loved.
