Ed’s note – before we get going, just a note to mention that, what with today being the 20th anniversary of that game at Anfield, we’ve produced a wallpaper to mark the occasion. It can be downloaded from this page. Let’s hope Arsenal see more silverware this evening at the same venue. And on that theme, back to the exclusive…

The swell of opinion on the toiling sea that is Arsenal Football Club ebbs and flows with the tide of victory. We struggle sometimes with our own belief, such as a priest with his faith in the Almighty, it can be hard what with the media (a.k.a. the Propaganda Ministry) being staffed by slack jawed yokels in Man U shirts, all too blinded by that ill gotten silver to see them for the rotten kings they are but I see so many examples of why we are and always will be a great club that ‘In Arsène We Trust’ is never far from my thoughts. For example, every time I see our youth squad in action my heart opens, being filled with the light of possibility!

Ah those glorious pillars of humanity; youth and vigour, how they shined like a beacon last night out on that oh so perfect looking pitch of the Emirates. Ya see folks, I was there at the FA Youth Cup final and from where I sat things were pretty rosy at our little old football club, the faith, it seems, was restored to those 33,662 Gooner souls who sat in the stands and watched our beautiful youth take the game by the scruff of the neck and show it who’s boss.

There I was sat in block 18 on the lower tier with my programme on my lap like any old game when I had a revelation; I saw what Arsène was doing! I saw his vision, could see what he could see without the blinkers of the media’s blackout of bile which is always ranged against us and it made me smile, the future is now my friends. Sat next to me was a soft spoken chap by the name of Mick O’Brien who has been coming to watch the Arsenal since 1946 and thus was no stranger to missing out on trophies and titles and throughout he drilled it in to his grandson, sat next to him, Haydn that ‘this is what I’ve been talking about!’ as our kids swept like a storm over the Liverpool team who stood before them, uneven like bamboo houses.

The excitement Mick felt was, I think, the same buzz which filled the stadium and his feeling was one of righteous vindication for the work and vision of the club as Liverpool, a strong youth side by all accounts, were haunted all night as they chased ghosts and shadows. He slapped my arm with delight at each perfect through ball from Jack Wilshere, every time Coquelin kept poession by every means necessary he whooped with joy, my arm receiving a ‘wow, look at that!’ touch as if he wanted to pull the whole stadium in to his happiness and shake the Gooner community awake in an attempt to say ‘look at what we have!’

Ol' Mick slapped away at all the pure flowing football, my arm, which I had had tattooed only the day before was growing redder and sorer by the moment with each chip, flick and lob requiring a nudge in the pulpy blob that had, until then, been my new tattoo but it was OK because what was happening on the pitch warranted it; it was like seeing Eduardo score against Burnley this season but multiplied throughout the whole team for the duration of the game. I felt that Mick was a bottle who on Friday night was finally uncorked and the bottle contained so many of us Gooners, the ones who hear the silent sections in our ground and try to start off a chant, the supporter who shakes their head at the knee jerk reaction from the boo culture that has descended considering we have 20 year olds getting to semi-finals.

If only the confidence and easy swagger of this youth team could be applied to the first team we would be dominating the world and I guess this is Mr. Wenger’s ‘cult of personality’ point. The question is how long can we wait? Again a question of faith, in the manager and the players but who are we reaffirming our faith too? Ourselves or to the pulsating masses who loathe us so? After all, Muhammad Ali didn't win every fight but he's the greatest boxer of all time. Well the Arsenal, our Arsenal are the same.

The crowd were behind the team from before kick off and the air around the Emirates felt different, lighter, like the pressure was off, but it was still a cup final, after all. It was that mental belief we had that our boys were going to win. The human mind is so complex that it may never truly be understood so I have to ask; can the players consciously and subconsciously feel this before they even leave their dressing room?

Well the gaffer thinks so.

If I had a quid for every time Arsène Wenger has said 'mental strength' this season alone I'd be able to down a whole slew of White Russians with you. There was no one player you could single out as having a weak game. Man, my heart rate was set to explode as Jack Wilshere took the game to the opposition; he has the heart of a lion and the legs of a gazelle (but still looks human!). He runs distinctively with his lower body all octopus limbs, loose and limber and a blur of motion while his top half is up rigid, straight backed with chest puffed out like a prime Tony Adams, his head bolt upright, eyes always ahead and staring straight into the oppo's as if to say 'well, here I am, what've you got?'

I remember the Emirates Cup last year when Wilshere came on in the game against Real Madrid and he was a true bulldog, taking them by surprise. At one point he got himself entangled in a battle with Saviola and Jack went in with a hard tackle then as Saviola got up he looked down at this unknown kid as if to say 'do you know who I am, boy?' and Jack met his gaze like a fighter before a big fight, he was not intimidated and it looked like he was ready to kick some Argentine ass. On Friday night he had a will to win and after Frimpong went off and Jack moved more central he controlled the game as the ball always went through him. Brilliance lies ahead unless he finds the demon drink! I worry about us all heaping so much praise on the boy but it's hard not too, he really is that good and watching him in person allows you to see all the better as his off ball action is just as revelatory.

Then there was Lansbury who with his one touch flicks and eye for the details of the game is a kid with a first team future. People say that they don't see what he does, that because he doesn't often score you think he does nothing where the opposite is true as he fights the good fight with a vigor that is more than the vim of youth, it is the passion of a true footballing soul and he wins the ball a ton, keeping poession and throwing us back into attack.

Jay Emanuel-Thomas had a work rate that was second to none, he ran until the soles of his boots melted, what a brilliant example to the others and a great captain while Sunu could have given The Flash a sprint race and left him choking on his dust, no wonder the Scousers didn’t see his goal coming!

Mick, sat animatedly next to me, was raving about Kyle Bartley (my bruised arm is testament to that) and rightly so for he and Luke Ayling looked very strong together back there and controlled everything that came up against them.

Really, there was no weak spot and the whole game made me feel the love for Wenger and ‘le grande vision’ as the kids looked like a ‘proper’ Arsenal team, especially on the break, the pace of their counter attack was breathtaking with our Bergkamp era ‘three passes and you’re on goal’ ethos being truly tried and tested whereas Liverpool resorted, out of frustration, to bad fouls and cheap tactics, such as booting the ball against one of us to get a corner.

Ah well, c’est la vie mon bruv, all’s fair in foot and ball and these tic-tactics did result in a penalty for us with the final 4-1 score line befitting the will and desire of the Arsenal team who stepped out on to the pitch.

Now comes the hard job of transferring this love over into the senior team for 09/10 and reaping every trophy known to man, so positive thoughts from everyone; love your team and remember how good we have it. We will win silver; keep the faith brothers and sisters.

Ah sod it, I can feel it in the air; come on Arsenal!