When I was lacing my up boots for my first start in the North London derby back in 2015, I had a flashback to when I was 11, playing against Arsenal’s youth team. It was like déjà vu. Before every match, I always visualize scenarios in my head of exactly how I’ll score in the match. Left-foot curler into the bottom corner. Right-foot volley from the right corner of the box. I’ve always been that way. I get really detailed about it — I’ll picture my opponents and the cut of the grass and everything.
This time, I was picturing the defenders wearing the red Arsenal kit, and I got goosebumps.
We were in the tunnel, and I thought, “O.K. Took me 12 years. But we’ll see who was right and who was wrong.”
I scored two that day, and the winner in the 86th minute was something that I’d never even dream of visualizing before a match. It was a header — probably the best header I’ve ever scored — and that feeling when it hit the back of the net … I’ve never felt a rush like that in my whole career.