Life doesn’t bargain in upbeat endings, and more often than not, nor does football. The body gives out; the brain wearies; the amusement to which you have given such a great amount of thoroughly enjoys kicking you in the guts. Maybe Arsene Wenger ought to have known up and down this was the means by which it would all turn out, however I question it. Appropriate to the last, even as his side slid to crush, even as his last shot at radiance dissipated into the nippy Madrid night, he will have accepted. This was forever his blessing, and at last it was his revile as well.

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As the metronomic Atletico Madrid ticked down his last minutes of European football, Wenger stayed in his hole, just periodically wandering out onto the touchline. Furthermore, for every one of the disgraces he has endured in his 22 years at Arsenal, never had he looked very this sad, very this deprived, very this frail. All things considered, Wenger was dependably the organizer, the visionary, the designer: the man with one eye on tomorrow. However awful things got, there was constantly next season.

For Arsenal’s fans, a blend of feelings. A little bitterness, a little disillusionment, however above all else simply that vast and recognizable deadness: a cool 16 ounces of nothing, with a nothing chaser. This is the reason, at last, huge numbers of them will commend Wenger off the phase with help. For every one of his characteristics – along these lines, such a large number of characteristics – he has likewise drawn excessively numerous of their terrible recollections. An excessive number of evenings like these start to wear you out sooner or later.

The last shriek blew, and Wenger turned into the last individual in the stadium to acknowledge his destiny. As numb Arsenal players flaccidly extolled numb Arsenal fans, Wenger shook hands and vanished down the passage: a period more than, an obscurity diving, a long blur to dark read more story.