Old Trafford | 18 August 2025
Match Rating: ★★☆☆☆ (2 out of 5)
Red Devil Ranter Reacts: United v Arsenal
In Star Wars: A New Hope, the goodies blow up the Death Star, the music soars, the galaxy cheers – and for about ten minutes, everything feels right in the universe. That’s what it’s like being a United fan when we actually put in a proper performance. You feel the buzz, the joy, the swagger. But we all know what usually follows, don’t we? The next few matches play out like The Empire Strikes Back on repeat, except instead of the Empire, it’s THE ENTIRE PREMIER LEAGUE taking turns battering us while we stand there like stormtroopers who can’t hit a barn door. Which is basically every stormtrooper in every Star Wars movie.
And don’t even get me started on these managers and their “we can win any game” delusions. Ruben, mate, you lost. Pack it in. It’s been a rich tradition, hasn’t it? From Ole’s “we go again” soundbites to Ten Hag claiming he saw a different match entirely, probably on a dodgy stream, while the rest of us were watching United stumble around like they’d only just met.
We played well against Liverpool at Anfield last season too, but then what? Lost to insert random mid-table club here, repeat five times, and add a European humiliation for garnish. If we turn one more corner, we’ll qualify for a Formula 1 license.
And then I hear the quote: “We weren’t boring.” Excuse me? Somebody grab Ronaldo, Rooney, Tevez, Berba, hell, even give Nani a ring – and show these charlatans what entertaining football actually looks like. United were sharper, quicker, more cohesive, with a far greater level of physicality than last season. But our 3-4-3 slash 5-3-2 might as well be a 5-5-0, because every time Mbuemo or Dorgu bombed down the wing to whip in a cross, the box was emptier than a salad bar at a steakhouse.
Now, I like Sesko. I really do. Kid’s got presence. But it cannot all be on him. One striker up front trying to fight off four defenders while the midfielders are still jogging up from Carrington? Not good enough. We need more bodies in that box, more runners, more intent. Otherwise, it’s just the same old snoozefest.
As for Ruben’s pressers, still more entertaining than most matches. But to be fair, the gap is closing. If this really is the corner we’ve been waiting on, if the spark against Arsenal can be built on – then maybe, just maybe, hope is back on the menu. Because as much as I rant, as much as I tear my hair out, I’ll never stop believing that somewhere in this mess… there’s still a United worth dreaming about.
The Death Star might still be intact – but don’t count the rebels out just yet.
Arsenal Addict Reacts: United v Arsenal
So that’s 22 games unbeaten against the so-called “Top 6.” Twenty-two. You can dress it up however you like, but that’s called steel. And yes, in this era of flashy TikTok edits and instant-gratification football culture, “steel” might sound unfashionable. But it’s the foundation of every great side. We’re not chasing likes, we’re chasing titles. Think Rahul Dravid. Think Geoffrey Boycott. Batting out days four and five, blunt as a butter knife, saving the Test while everyone yawns. That’s what this Arsenal side has rediscovered: the unglamorous backbone we lost in the twilight Wenger years.
Because let’s not rewrite history: we all remember the soft underbelly tags. The dazzling triangles cut open on the counter. Jesse Lingard moonwalking at the Emirates in 2019 seared into my brain like a horror film. But that’s the beauty of this result: we didn’t need to be swashbuckling, we didn’t need champagne football. We just needed grit, nous, and the best defensive duo in world football, with arguably the best keeper in the league, dragging us over the line at Old Trafford.
And make no mistake: United played well. They had more of the ball, they pressed with energy, they even looked half-dangerous at times. But domination without incision is just shadow boxing. They never looked like scoring. Arsenal, meanwhile, barely rolled out of bed. Let’s have it right: Declan Rice? Barely noticeable. Bukayo Saka? Might as well have been on holiday in Marbella. Our two poster boys, the darlings of the Emirates, both had stinkers. But Ødegaard? He flicked the switch, and that was enough. One man turned up, and that’s all we needed. Our Norwegian magician pulled strings like a conductor who only brought one violinist to the concert, and still played a symphony
The fact that it wasn’t pretty makes it sweeter. Because deep down, we all know there are better attacking days to come. Noni and Viktor will start firing soon. The combinations will click. The goals will flow. If Ødegaard alone was enough to break United’s fragile resolve, then the full Arsenal orchestra will tear this league apart.
Until then? Thank you, Manchester United. We took three points and left your Theatre of Dreams looking more like a haunted house. And thank you in advance, because we all know what’s coming: in the next nine months you’ll take points off City, off Liverpool, off Chelsea – because that’s what United do. Trip up the others, hand Arsenal the advantage, and keep moonwalking yourselves straight into mediocrity.
So no, it wasn’t champagne football. It wasn’t peak Wenger ball. It wasn’t even Arsenal in first gear. But it was Arsenal with grit, with steel, with a captain who showed up when it mattered. And that, my friends, is how titles are won.
