As the last few seconds of this game played out, as
Arsenal knocked the ball around without inhibition and Newcastle chased them without conviction, a strange and discomfiting sensation seemed to descend on the Emirates Stadium. You might call it, for want of a better word, satisfaction. Not happiness, as such: Arsenal don’t really do happiness. But the soft and sleepy contentment of a game well won, an afternoon without qualms or catastrophic injuries or late drama or existential angst: this was the unfamiliar part.
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