What do we say to the God of Death?
UEFA Women’s Champions League
April 19, 2025
Emirates Stadium, London
Arsenal entered the semi-final with Lyon as an army long denied its rightful battlefield. Eighteen years had passed since that fabled quadruple that once crowned them rulers of the continent. On this night, under the vaulted light of the Emirates and before forty thousand voices rising like an ancient chorus, Arsenal marched again with purpose.
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Renée Slegers, the Dutch architect of Arsenal’s renewal against a dynasty: Lyon, eight-time champions, the empire against which all others measured themselves. At their helm—Joe Montemurro, the very man who had once resuscitated Arsenal’s fortunes. They arrived from the destruction of Bayern, 6–1, a reminder that eras may age yet do not surrender quietly.
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Lyon struck with the certainty of old power. Seventeen minutes in, Kadidiatou Diani carved through the flank, Ellie Carpenter’s overlapping run opening the channel with mechanical precision. Though the offside flag rose, VAR restored the strike, and Diani’s curling finish bent beyond Zinsberger. It was a declaration: legends are rarely past tense.
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But Arsenal did not wilt. Caitlin Foord initiated their finest move of the half, sweeping play across the pitch to Beth Mead, whose cushioned header found Frida Maanum. Her effort, from close range, drifted wide. Moments later, Melchie Dumornay seized upon a loose ball, her audacious 30-yard lob rattling the crossbar and sparing Arsenal further damage.
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The closing breaths of the half brought rising drama. Mead’s short free-kick found Katie McCabe; her arcing delivery met Alessia Russo, whose header struck the bar. Seconds later McCabe fell in the box, her appeals dismissed. Arsenal entered the interval trailing, yet emboldened by the sense that the match had begun to shift.
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They returned with ferocity. Russo blocked, Foord denied, Mead darting through with tireless insistence. Each attempt battered Lyon’s armor but failed to break it—until the 78th minute, when Endler’s challenge felled Williamson. VAR upheld the penalty; Caldentey converted with frost-cold composure.
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But football’s gods are seldom merciful. A squandered chance became a Lyon counter; Dumornay cut through red shirts to restore the French advantage.
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At 2–1, the whistle fell. Lyon claimed the night. But Mead spoke with iron afterward: Arsenal had been the better side. And the return leg in France, she promised, would answer the question that echoed across the game’s mythology.
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Arsenal 1 – 2 Lyon
(K. Diani ‘17, M. Caldentey ‘78, M. Dumornay ‘82)