Finals are supposed to be close but Arsenal’s internal architecture collapsed and City walked them around in a headlock
When the first Manchester City goal went in, with the Wembley clock on 60 minutes, Pep Guardiola’s response was to attack a pitchside hoarding – but to do even this in a very Pep kind of way, methodically, relentlessly trousers billowing, brown lace-ups whirring in perfect concert, like an uncle doing the running man at a wedding.
When the second goal was scored four minutes later, the trophy-clincher, and Nico O’Reilly’s second of the afternoon, Guardiola was up and off down the touchline, bounding, star jumping, revolving his arms. There he goes, out there kicking down saloon doors, karate chopping blocks of concrete, bending iron bars with his bare hands.
And why not? Finals aren’t supposed to be fun. This one was. Finals are supposed to be close. This one most certainly was not. In the event City spent almost the entire live period of this Carabao Cup final victory walking Arsenal around the Wembley turf in a headlock. Above all this was an afternoon of Total Pep.
Guardiola even looked great out there. After the grunge tailoring of Madrid in midweek, Wembley got deep brown high-end baggy slacks and the classic roll neck sweater (think: Captain Haddock at a point-to-point). And for long periods this was like watching peak Imperial City, playing like this is their space, their grass, like the ball is only ever on loan, their opponents a necessary structural peg in the overall design.
