Over the last few months, we’d grown accustomed to the idea that this squad has a date with destiny. Result after result, romp after romp seemed to confrim the notion that it would only be a matter of time before we’d taste the sweet success of silverware. Scoring goals and keeping clean sheets left and right offered incontrovertible proof, it seemed, that our date with destiny was at hand. Porto interrupted that reverie via their late smash-and-grab in the first leg, and they had a chance at reprising that role on Tuesday. It was then, however, that our lads rose to the occasion. Scratch that—they went above and beyond.

Let’s be crystal-clear here—besting Porto in the Champions League knockout doesn’t prove that we’ll be winning any silverware this season. We’re still long-shots to win this competition and, despite our current position in the Prem, we’re still long-shots there as well. Having said that, outlasting Porto to advance to the UCL quarterfinal represents something symbolic, maybe even something massive.

Porto represent a cagey, experienced, savvy side, embodied by the 41-year old Pepe, who has mastered the dark arts to such a degree that it’s a surprise he hasn’t been reclassified as a black hole. Porto’s tactics—if they can indeed be called such—consist largely of professional fouls, putting the ball out of play and dithering over putting it back into play, diving, and more. What’s more, they sit back and defend deep, daring their opponents to work through a thicket of limbs and torsos.

In short, they’re the kind of side designed to wear down and frustrate impatient, immature sides to the point that they overcommit, get stretched, and concede from quick counters or set-pieces. We might played right into their hands. At home, needing a 2-0 result to advance to the quarterfinal for the first time since 2010, having failed to advance in our last seven tries (with Arteta involved as a player in five of those failures), the pressure was all on us as the favouried side. The die was cast, the cards dealt. Les jeux sont fait. Our callow side, rich on talent but short of experience, would surely capitulate when those chips were down.

And yet.

In the face of lofty expectations left unmet, as we went into added extra time, there were no signs of nerves. We continued to play with calm, rational confidence, probing and pressing and exploring against a resolute, more-experienced opponent as we sought a winner. When we failed there, it seemed almost as if Fate were smiling down us as it prepared to cut us short. Penalties. One of the cruelest ways to settle a tie. It’s a crap-shoot, a roll of the dice that can go either way.

However, our lads rose took the bit in their mouths. Calmly, coolly, confidently, Ødegaard and then Havertz scored from the spot. Then, Raya, at full-stretch saved from Wendell. It was Saka’s turn, and he flat-footed Dioga Costa. Raya got hands to but couldn’t stop Porto’s third—but the message was clear: Arsenal will win this. Indeed, up stepped Rice, who smashed it right down the middle. 4-2 to the Arsenal. Against the talismanic Galeno, Raya again dove to his left to save, securing an epic result.

Does this mean we’ll win the Champions League. Hardly. It doesn’t even mean we’ll advance to the semifinal. Does this mean we’ll win in 19 days when we visit the Etihad. Maybe, but again, unlikely. What it does mean is that this squad continues to grow, evolve, and mature. We’re still short of meaningful experience at these levels. Our most-experienced players—Jorginho, Jesus, and Zinchenko—are not quite mainstays in the starting XI. For the most part, we’re built on youth and potential and moxie. For as talented as our best players are—Rice and Saka and Ødegaard, Saliba and White and Gabriel—they’re still plumbing the depths of their respective potential.

The patience and determination it took to earn this result against a side bound and determined to reprise any Pulis-managed side of the last twenty years will serve us well in the weeks and months and years to come. It may not be enough to see us claim silverware in this particular season; then again, it might. We’ll have to wait and see.