Crystal Palace 1–2 Arsenal. Three points at Selhurst Park, which is never easy, and a performance that was — how to put this diplomatically? — functional rather than beautiful. But functional will do. Functional, at this stage of the season, with the FA Cup semi-final on the horizon and the league table taking shape, is absolutely fine.
The first half: patience required
Selhurst Park is one of those grounds that reminds you what English football used to feel like. The stands are close to the pitch, the noise is relentless, and every fifty-fifty challenge is greeted with a roar that suggests the fate of civilisation depends upon the outcome. Palace’s fans are magnificent — I say this through slightly gritted teeth, but credit where it’s due — and they created an atmosphere that made the first half genuinely uncomfortable.
Palace, under Alan Pardew, have rediscovered a swagger that deserted them under the fag end of the Pulis era. They pressed high, they competed physically, and they made it clear from the first whistle that Arsenal were going to have to work for anything they got. Jason Puncheon was at the heart of everything good they did — driving forward from midfield, finding pockets of space, and generally making a nuisance of himself in the way that energetic, slightly underrated midfielders do when they’re up for it.
We weathered it. Koscielny was excellent, reading the danger and making interceptions that snuffed out Palace attacks before they could develop. Coquelin — and what a find he has been this season, what an absolute revelation — sat in front of the back four and did the unglamorous work that the position demands. He won tackles, he recycled possession, he did everything that Arsenal fans have been begging for a defensive midfielder to do since approximately 2005.
The breakthrough
The goal, when it came, was classic Arsenal. A patient build-up through midfield, a clever exchange of passes between Cazorla and Özil, and then Alexis Sánchez doing what Alexis Sánchez does — receiving the ball in a congested area, creating a yard of space through sheer force of will, and driving a shot past the goalkeeper with a ferocity that belied the tight angle. One-nil. Selhurst Park fell briefly, blissfully silent.
The second goal was even better. A sweeping counter-attack that covered sixty yards in about four seconds, Bellerin carrying the ball up the right flank with the speed of a man being chased by something large and angry, before squaring for Özil to finish with the nonchalance of a man posting a letter. Two-nil. Game, as they say, on.
There are moments, watching Mesut Özil play football, when you understand exactly why Wenger was willing to break the transfer record to sign him. The vision, the touch, the ability to see a pass before it exists — he is operating on a different plane. When it clicks, it is beautiful.
The nervous finale
Because this is Arsenal, and because we are constitutionally incapable of doing things the easy way, the final twenty minutes were an exercise in anxiety management. Palace pulled a goal back through Puncheon — a well-taken free kick that arrowed into the corner and gave Ospina no chance — and suddenly the comfortable margin had evaporated. The atmosphere at Selhurst Park, which had been subdued since the second goal, erupted back to life.
We saw the match out, but not without a few heart-stopping moments. Bolasie hit the bar. Zaha wriggled past two defenders only to shoot straight at Ospina. In added time, Mertesacker produced a last-ditch clearance that was part heroism, part desperation, and entirely necessary. The final whistle was met with relief as much as celebration.
The bigger picture
Three points. That’s what matters. The performance was imperfect — we lost control of the match in the second half, we allowed Palace back into it, we made life harder for ourselves than it needed to be — but the result was exactly what we needed. The league table looks encouraging. Third place, two points behind City with a match in hand. The sunshine and optimism of early May feels within reach.
And then there’s the FA Cup. Wembley awaits, a semi-final against Reading, and the chance to defend the trophy we won so memorably last year. This season, for all its frustrations — the Champions League exit in Monaco was painful, and I still haven’t fully processed it — has the potential to end well. Better than well. If we can sustain this form, if we can keep Cazorla and Özil and Sánchez fit and firing, if we can avoid the kind of catastrophic defensive collapse that has defined so many Arsenal seasons, then something special might be possible.
Puncheon above your weight? Palace certainly did. They made us work, they tested us, and they nearly nicked a point. But we held firm. We won. And in April, when the stakes are real and the pressure is building, winning — however you manage it — is everything.
Enjoy the moment. They don’t come along as often as we’d like. For more on this season’s twists and turns, check our match reports archive and our piece on the art of winning matches the hard way.