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Highbury Matchday

Martinelli's Saudi Exit Is a Business Decision Dressed as a Football One

By Sid Whitlow 31 August 2026 3 min read

Gabriel Martinelli was not in the squad for the Community Shield win over Manchester City. He was not in it again three days later, when Arsenal opened the league season against Coventry City. Two absences don't make a story on their own — Arteta has left out better players than this for worse reasons — but they arrived in the same window as reports that Al-Hilal have made a formal club-to-club approach, that Arsenal have set a price of around £60 million, and that the player himself has left the door open. Put those together and you don't have a squad rotation. You have a sale in progress, and everyone involved is being polite about calling it one.

The football case for it is not nothing, and it's worth stating properly before you knock it down. Christoker Choulis, the Greek international brought in over the summer, has slotted into Martinelli's side of the pitch and started recent matches well — well enough, by the accounts coming out of London Colney, that Arteta no longer considers Martinelli first-choice there. Squads need turnover. A player who arrived at eighteen and is now twenty-five, four years into a first-team career that peaked around 2022-23 and has plateaued since, is a reasonable candidate for that turnover. Galatasaray tried to buy him for €45 million ten days before Al-Hilal's approach and were told, through his representatives, that he wasn't interested. If Arsenal can now get £60 million from a club he's willing to join, for a squad slot Choulis already occupies, that isn't cruelty. That's a football department doing its job.

Except the job it's doing isn't quite the one it's dressed as. Martinelli signed from Ituano in the summer of 2019 for a fee reported around £6 million — a teenager nobody outside São Paulo had heard of, brought in on the theory that Arsenal could find value the bigger clubs weren't looking for and grow it themselves. Six years later he has a World Cup on his CV, over two hundred appearances for the club, and a résumé that includes the title run of 2023 and every European campaign since. Selling him for ten times what you paid is not a betrayal of that theory. It's the theory working. What tells you something is who's buying, and why the fee is being negotiated the way it is: not against a rival chasing him for what he offers on a pitch, but against a state-backed league buying reputation and depth, at a number Arsenal fixed in advance and are now simply waiting to be met.

That's the pattern worth watching, and it isn't just Martinelli. Leandro Trossard went to Besiktas for €20 million this summer. Christian Norgaard went to Everton for £7 million. Neither of those is scandalous in isolation — squads shed players every window, and Trossard at thirty-one heading to Turkey is not a crisis of any kind. But stack the three together and you get a club that has, in the space of one transfer window, moved a title-winning wide forward, a Premier League-tested defensive midfielder, and now potentially a Brazilian international who was on the pitch for the trophy, and received in return a total sum that looks less like squad rebuilding and more like balance-sheet management with football justifications bolted on afterward.

None of this is unprecedented, and Arsenal's history should stop anyone reaching for that word. Nicolas Anelka arrived for nothing in 1997 and left for Real Madrid two years later for £22 million, a profit margin absurd even by the standards of a very different market. Overmars and Petit went the same summer, sold not because the club needed the money but because the money on offer was too large to argue with. Fabregas left for Barcelona in 2011 at a fee everyone at the time insisted was about his wanting to go home, and mostly it was. Selling well has always been part of the Arsenal method, not a violation of it. The difference this time isn't that a good young player is being sold for a large fee. It's that the buyer has no footballing case to make for wanting him — no title race, no European run, no manager who watched him play and decided he was the missing piece — only a budget and a league that exists, in large part, to be seen spending it.

There is a version of the next five years in which this sale looks smart: Choulis develops into the player Arteta clearly thinks he can be, the £60 million funds a signing who solves a problem Martinelli never could, and this column looks like it worried about nothing more than a transfer window doing what transfer windows do. That version is available and Arsenal have earned enough credit, over enough windows, to be given the benefit of the doubt on it. But the credit was earned by treating young players as an investment in the football, not merely a hedge against it, and a £6 million teenager who became a World Cup forward being moved on to a league with no sporting stake in him at all is the moment that distinction stops being theoretical.