Four-midable

There are wins.

There are derby wins.

And then there are statement wins — the kind that echo around north London for weeks and leave lilywhite curtains twitching long into the night.

Four goals.

Two for Viktor Gyökeres.

Two for Eberechi Eze.

Top of the league.

Five points clear.

And Spurs? Still Spurs.

EARLY DOMINANCE: THE CALM BEFORE THEIR PANIC

From the first whistle at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, we played like a side that knew exactly who they were. Composed. Aggressive. Clinical. The ball lived at our feet.

Gyökeres bullied centre-halves early. Trossard nearly embarrassed Guglielmo Vicario from 30 yards when David Raya went full quarterback. Radu Dragusin did his best impression of a man trying to clear a beach ball in a hurricane.

Momentum was briefly halted by "technical issues" — which feels like the most Spurs thing imaginable. Even the officiating equipment wanted out.

But pressure tells.

Bukayo Saka twisted Pape Matar Sarr inside out on the byline and drilled it into the danger zone. Eze — calm, elastic, inevitable — cushioned it, swivelled, and smashed it home.

1–0. Deserved. Controlled. Clinical.

And then — because derbies rarely allow comfort — Declan Rice was robbed, Randal Kolo Muani drove forward, and suddenly it was 1–1.

A reminder: switch off for a second here and they'll bite.

SECOND-HALF STATEMENT: GYÖKERES UNLEASHED

Whatever was said at half-time worked.

Jurrien Timber rolled the ball into Gyökeres just outside the area. One touch. Set. Bang.

A finish so pure Vicario was still moving when it hit the net.

14th of the season. And counting.

Spurs thought they'd equalised again — Kolo Muani bundling one in — but Gabriel isn't the sort you shove around without consequences. Disallowed.

Then came the killer.

A move flowing through Gyökeres, Eze and Saka — silk, steel and swagger. Saka crowded out, loose ball spills, and Eze pounces.

Second of the afternoon.

Fifth against Spurs this season.

Five goals at this ground in three appearances.

Some players like the derby.

Eze has annexed it.

THE DAGGER

Richarlison nearly made it awkward — Raya producing a claw-back save through his own legs that will not get the headlines it deserves but might quietly win us points in May.

Then came the exclamation mark.

Injury time.

Gyökeres holding off Archie Gray like a man shielding his chips.

Composed finish.

4–1.

North London. Painted red again.

THE NUMBERS THAT HURT THEM MOST

• First time we've won four straight away at Spurs since 1955.
• First five consecutive derby wins home and away since 1989.
• League double over them in back-to-back seasons — first time since the late 80s.
• Five points clear at the summit.
• Spurs winless home and away in 2026.

Igor Tudor's reign begins with a derby defeat. History repeats; Spurs oblige.

Gyökeres now leads the calendar-year scoring charts. Eight of his 15 have come in 2026 alone.

Eze joins rare company — only Robert Pires and Emmanuel Adebayor have more Premier League derby goals for us.

This isn't just a good side.

It's a ruthless one.

THE FEELING

What makes this sweeter isn't just the scoreline.

It's the control.

No chaos. No smash-and-grab. No backs-to-the-wall. We dictated it. We absorbed their punch. We hit harder.

Spurs are relegation-threatened. We are title-hunting.

That gap felt very real on that pitch.

WHAT'S NEXT?

A rare quiet midweek (we almost don't know what to do with ourselves).

Chelsea at home next Sunday.

Brighton away midweek.

FA Cup trip to Mansfield Town.

Momentum matters.

Confidence compounds.

If this is how we treat the derby, the rest of the league might want to start checking their fixtures.

north London is red.

And it's looking increasingly like the Premier League might be too.

Sob Story In The Sleet

Top versus bottom. Title charge versus survival scrap. Five minutes in, we're ahead. Sixty minutes in, we're cruising. Ninety-plus, we're staring at the abyss as the ball pinballs off a post, off Riccardo Calafiori, and into our net like some cruel physics experiment designed by north London's least favourite deity.

Two points? Gone. Title momentum? Jolted. Blood pressure? Elevated.

Saka Through the Middle: Arteta's Gamble (Mostly) Pays

After the Wigan experiment, Mikel doubled down. Bukayo Saka through the centre again. Five minutes later: vindication.

Gabriel Martinelli tees up Declan Rice, Rice floats it delicately, and Saka ghosts in to nod home. Fifteen games without a goal? Over. Clinical. Intelligent. Ruthless.

It also extended our scoring run against Wolves to 37 consecutive meetings — which sounds impressive until you realise that runs mean nothing if you don't win the match attached to them.

Rice nearly made it two. José Sá went full octopus to deny Madueke and Martinelli in quick succession. We were dominant without being devastating — and you know how that story ends.

The sleet came down. The tempo dropped. Wolves stopped and started with injury breaks that killed rhythm. Classic midwinter away performance: efficient, unspectacular, controlled.

Until it wasn't.

Hincapie's Moment — Then the Unravelling

Ten minutes into the second half, Gabriel slices Wolves open with a pass that would make a neurosurgeon nod appreciatively. Piero Hincapié times the run, shrugs off a defender, finishes emphatically.

Flag up. Groans. VAR intervenes. Onside. First Arsenal goal after 23 games.

Two-nil. Game management time.

Except this Arsenal side does not do simple.

Five minutes later Hugo Bueno — who had previously looked about as threatening as a damp sock — bends one into the top corner. Spectacular finish. Raya stranded. Game on.

Suddenly Molineux remembered it had a voice.

Calafiori and the Cruel Gods of Molineux

Thirty minutes of scrappy football followed. Conditions worsening. Control slipping. Neither keeper especially troubled.

Then chaos.

A late collision sees Trossard off, Calafiori on. Within moments: calamity.

Cross in. Gabriel and Raya hesitate — never a good sign. Raya punches half-clear. Tom Edozie shoots. Post.

And then…

It hits Calafiori. On the line. Spins in.

There are own goals. And there are own goals that feel like a punchline delivered by fate itself. This was the latter.

You could see it on Calafiori's face. The kind of stunned disbelief reserved for lottery winners and defenders caught in physics they didn't sign up for.

The Bigger Picture

Let's be blunt:

• Wolves had lost 10 of 13 at home.
• We were two goals up.
• We allowed belief to creep back in.

Title winners suffocate games at 2–0. They don't let right wing-backs cut inside uncontested. They don't miscommunicate in stoppage time.

Arteta's midfield tweak worked offensively. But once Wolves punched back, we lacked composure. There's a fragility in these moments that feels psychological as much as tactical.

And now?

What's Next: No Time to Sulk

Sunday: north London derby away.

Then Chelsea at home.

Then Brighton away.

Three matches that will define tone and trajectory.

You don't get to mourn own goals in February. You respond.

If we channel the frustration correctly, Wolves becomes a footnote. If we don't, it becomes the chapter people point to in May.

As for Calafiori — he'll bounce back. He's not the villain. Football is cruel, especially in sleet.

But if we're serious about silverware, we must learn one simple lesson:

When you have the boot on the throat, don't ease up.

COYG.

Four Before They’d Found Their Umbrellas

There are cup ties.

There are banana skins.

And then there are first-half demolitions served with a side of north London rain.

Arsenal 4–0 Wigan.

Game over by the time some of the late arrivals were still shaking drizzle off their scarves.

For the first time since 2020, we're into the fifth round of the FA Cup — and we did it the old-fashioned way: by treating lower-league opposition with ruthless, borderline disrespectful efficiency.

⚡ FAST START? More Like Lightning Strike.

The first omen came before kick-off. Riccardo Calafiori pulled out in the warm-up. Mild panic? Not really. Instead, Bukayo Saka wandered into midfield like he'd been playing there his entire career.

Alongside Eberechi Eze, he pulled the strings from minute one.

Ten minutes in, Saka split the Wigan defence with a pass so clean it deserved its own highlights package. Noni Madueke ran onto it, took a breath, and finished beyond Sam Tickle with the composure of a man ordering coffee.

1–0.

Seven minutes later?

Christian Nørgaard → Eze → Gabriel Martinelli.

Bang. 2–0.

Martinelli now has four in this season's competition and looked like he fancied double figures before the half-hour mark.

🌧 Goals Pouring Like the N5 Rain

The third was chaos in its purest cup form.

Madueke to Saka.

Saka into the mixer.

Jack Hunt doing his best unwitting Thierry Henry impression at the wrong end.

Own goal. 3–0.

Before Wigan had processed that trauma, Nørgaard launched an inch-perfect long ball that deserved slow-motion replays. Gabriel Jesus did what Gabriel Jesus does against lower-league sides — delicate, cheeky, inevitable. A dink over Tickle.

Four goals inside 30 minutes.

Apparently, we're now the first Premier League side ever to score four in the opening half-hour of an FA Cup tie. File that under: "things you don't expect to say on a wet afternoon in N5."

🧤 Clean Sheet Culture

It wasn't entirely one-way traffic. Joe Taylor had a sniff. Raphel Rodrigues had a pop. But Kepa Arrizabalaga was alert, gloves firm, ego intact.

That's 22 clean sheets in 2025/26.

Twenty-two.

You don't luck your way to that number.

🔁 Second Half: Controlled Cruise

Half-time change: Viktor Gyökeres for Saka. The Swede nearly made it five within ten minutes, thundering a deflected effort off the woodwork after being released by Ben White.

Eze tried to add gloss. Free-kick deflected. Dribble into the box. Side netting. He deserved one, but sometimes dominance is its own reward.

👶 The Future Checks In

With 30 to go, the moment arrived.

Marli Salmon — 16 years old — home debut. Saliba off. Emirates applause. A glimpse of tomorrow.

He looked composed. No drama. No nerves. Just positioning, simple passes, maturity. The kind of cameo that makes you wonder what the academy chefs are feeding these kids.

Then another debut bow: Tommy Setford on for Kepa late on, claiming his first free-kick like he'd been doing it for years. The cheers from the N5 faithful said everything.

📊 What It Means

• First FA Cup fifth round since 2020

• 22nd clean sheet of the season

• Four goals inside 30 minutes

• Squad rotation that didn't wobble

• Youth pathway alive and kicking

This wasn't just a win.

It was a statement about depth.

When your "rotation" side looks like it could compete for silverware on its own, you're doing something right.

🔜 What's Next

Away to Wolves at Molineux.

Then the short trip across north London. You know the one.

Momentum matters in February. And right now, Arsenal look like a side that understands exactly when to accelerate.

The Loose Cannon verdict?

Clinical. Professional. Slightly ruthless.

And about as enjoyable as a cup tie gets.

Air Wars, Long Throws and a Point That Keeps Us Top

There are draws that feel like defeats.

There are draws that feel like warnings.

And then there are draws that quietly move you four points clear at the top of the table.

This one sits somewhere in the middle.

At the Gtech Community Stadium, we were held 1–1 by Brentford — a ground where very few leave with all three points — but after Manchester City trimmed our lead the night before, this was always going to be tense, attritional and unpleasant.

And it was.

Stale First Half: A Game of Shadows

You could feel the anxiety. League leaders on a four-game winning run. Brentford beaten just twice at home all season. Two systems cancelling each other out.

The first 45 minutes were less chess match, more arm wrestle.

Our best "chance" was Gabriel accidentally shoulder-barging a corner toward goal. That tells you everything. The only shot on target of the half came courtesy of a David Raya mishap — a misjudged roll-out that nearly turned into catastrophe before he redeemed himself with a point-blank save.

Four total shots in the half. Second-lowest first-half tally in the league this season.

The Gtech was simmering, not boiling.

A Moment of Quality

Mikel Arteta blinked first. Martin Ødegaard on. Control restored. Slightly.

Then, just past the hour mark, we finally produced something that resembled champions.

Piero Hincapié recycled a half-cleared throw, shaped his body, and delivered a wicked curling cross. And there was Noni Madueke — hanging, pausing, defying gravity — to glance a header into the far corner.

His 15th Premier League goal. His third header. Our first shot on target.

Clinical. Efficient. Ruthless.

Top-of-the-table stuff.

The Long Throw That Wouldn't Die

And yet.

You don't come to Brentford and escape the long throw. It's like tax. Inevitable.

Michael Kayode hurled one into orbit. Sepp van den Berg flicked it on. Keane Lewis-Potter attacked it like a man diving into the Channel.

1–1.

It was Brentford's fourth goal from a throw-in situation this season. The league has now seen 30 goals from throw-ins — the most in 15 years. Football, apparently, has returned to Stoke 2009.

We knew it was coming. We still couldn't stop it.

Chaos, Almost Glory

From there, the game opened up.

Thiago Silva nearly punished us. Cristhian Mosquera made a recovery tackle worthy of a mural. Silva then skied a sitter in stoppage time.

And then we had our moment.

Gyökeres fed Timber. Timber squared. Gabriel Martinelli — one-on-one, golden opportunity, script written.

Caoimhín Kelleher stuck out an arm and swatted the fairytale away.

You could almost hear the collective intake of breath from north London.

Perspective (Deep Breath)

Let's zoom out.

• 17 times we've scored first this season.
• Only twice have we failed to win.
• Brentford have lost just twice in 11 at home.
• We're four points clear.

This wasn't a collapse.

It wasn't a wobble.

It was a difficult away ground behaving exactly as advertised.

Yes, we should defend throw-ins better. Yes, Martinelli buries that nine times out of ten. Yes, I'd prefer we didn't wait until the 61st minute for a shot on target.

But title races are not won by vibes. They're won by accumulation.

And we accumulated.

What's Next

Now it's rotation and focus.

• FA Cup vs Wigan Athletic at the Emirates Stadium.
• League trip to Wolverhampton Wanderers.
• Then the small matter of a trip to Tottenham Hotspur in the second north London derby of the season.

Four points clear. February looming. The air getting thinner.

If this is what an "off day" looks like, I'll take it.

We march on.