Understandably, I was excited for the game, enthusiasm fuelled by the momentum of the action-packed festive period.
Therefore, it was a heartbreaking moment when I was informed that I would be attending my brother’s graduation from JFS rather than watching the match.
Despite my best efforts to remain at home, my mum did not accept my argument that Arsenal would only be playing Chelsea three times in the next three weeks.
So I found myself sitting in the main hall of JFS, restricting myself to one look at the BBC Sport live commentary per minute, in an effort to prevent disapproving stares from neighbouring parents.
Every other comment and tweet was raving about the exciting nature of the game, the multitude of chances and the tension increasing amongst the fans, as if mocking me.
The evening ended, and I ran to the car to switch on the radio. I celebrated in elation as the roar of the crowd confirmed Wilshere’s opener, and held my head in despair only four minutes later as Hazard converted a penalty, that, even though I had no way of watching it, was obviously a dive and the referee was clearly blind.
The game ended in a frenzy of chances, Morata missing a sitter and Bellerin scoring a wonder goal. BBC Sport summarised the game as ‘one of the most entertaining matches of the Premier League season so far’. I looked at my brother, and he laughed.
