Greetings fellow Gooners!
Ok, we can whine about handball, and with good reason. We can whine about Van de Vaart (or Van de Fart as Gary Neville hilariously pronounced his name!) even being allowed to stay on the pitch after two obvious yellow card offences, and with good reason. We could even whine about bad luck and even more about the freak goals that the Spuds continue to score against us. In fact, we could just whine because we damned well want to. But in truth, we didn’t get anything out of today’s North London derby because, quite frankly, we didn’t deserve to.
Whilst I spent a lot of the first half feeling slightly smug, believing as I am sure many of us did, that it was only a matter of time before we hit that extra gear and took a Spuds team that didn’t look particularly special in any area of the pitch to the cleaners, we created nothing of any real danger and they had three good chances, all saved by the yet again, apart from one painful mistake, excellent Szczesny. If we are completely honest with ourselves, going in 1-0 down at half-time didn’t look irretrievable, albeit slightly unfair in terms of the run of play and even moreso in terms of the handball that VdV employed to get the ball down and create his goal in the 40th minute.
Half-time oranges were again laced with some magical potion and the response after the break was exactly what was required. Possession was being kept well in and around the Spuds penalty area. We were winning the second ball for the first time in the match, thus creating a spell of pressure that Tottenham looked decidedly uncomfortable with. Pushing men forwards into dangerous positions and, most importantly, getting the ball to them with simple passes into players in space.
Song, filling in at centre-back once again in the absence of any other fit choices, came tearing down the right, received the ball to feet, pushed forward and into the penalty area and drilled a cross that Van Persie and Ramsey were fighting over to get to. Ramsey won the tussle and the merest touch saw the ball rocket into the roof of the onion bag.
1-1 and surely, with the obvious dominance we were showing overall as well as the new attacking mind-set that the half-time team talk had instilled, it was just a case of watching us leave the small club in North London trailing in our wake.
Alas, as is so often the case with this version of Wengerball, the players took their foot off the gas, applied the handbrake and gave the opposition the chance to settle and get into their rhythm again.
In terms of doing the simple things, we failed dismally, and that is where the real downfall was. Handbrake or not, if you cannot simply pass the ball to another player in a red shirt, you are going to struggle. And struggle we did. Our inability to keep the ball was not as a result of some spectacular effort on behalf of the Tottenham players, far from it. It came as a simple result of trying the most complicated or downright brainless option when a perfectly simple ball rolled out wide would have done the job.
In the end we got exactly what we deserved. Kyle Walker picked up the ball about 35 yards out after some scrambling and pinball had gone on in the Arsenal penalty area and taking a touch to push the ball forwards he unleashed nothing more than a hopeful pile driver that Szczesny somehow lost in the air. Moving viciously in the air, as the ball never seems to do when our players strike it, it sailed over his outstretched hand. He should have done a lot better and at least got a hand to it, but it would be hard to slate his performance overall when he did such a good job of keeping us in the match prior to and after that moment.
Yes, we can begrudge them the goal, yet another “wonder goal” to win the derby. We can even begrudge them the win, but until we learn to do the easy things like stay switched on at set pieces, pass the ball from one of our players to another of our players or even to one who isn’t being marked by two or three players at the time, we are simply asking for trouble.
Spurs did not deserve a win today, not by any stretch of the most fervent imagination, but when players of the quality and technical ability of Arteta, who had a dreadful game basically doing nothing right whatsoever, Ramsey, who apart from his goal looked like he was actually trying to get caught in possession most of the time, Gervinho, guilty of many things, greed being one of them, the inability to pass being another and worst of all an inexcusable miss after Van Persie had given him a shooting opportunity from which he had to at least test the goalkeeper but instead he dragged the ball limply and aimlessly wide of the target and Walcott, who was clearly nowhere near match fit but selected ahead of Oxlade-Chamberlain anyway who did not even make the squad, you don’t deserve to win.
The knives will again be out for Arsene Wenger, that is to be expected, but in the real world players getting paid tens of thousands of pounds a week to play football should be at least able to maintain a level of passing consistency and intelligence that one would expect from a half-decent semi-professional side. But, for whatever reason, confidence, form, pressure, lack of preparation, inability to follow basic instructions, it just wasn’t happening today. To blame Wenger solely for this failing is short-sighted and frankly a little ridiculous to say the least.
On the positive side, Mertesacker was generally excellent once again, snuffing out the majority of the Spud’s attacking play around the box rather than inside it. His reading of the game is truly a joy to watch ad something that the likes of Koscienly and Djourou will hopefully benefit from in the long-term. Szczesny, apart from the aberration that let Kyle Walker write his name on the same page of the history books as the likes of Danny Rose, had another excellent game. His progress rate is truly phenomenal and it is easy to forget that he is only 21 years old. Coquelin, preferred as predicted to the recently disappointing Frimpong, was probably the calmest and most sensible of our midfielders, choosing his passes carefully and marshalling Scott Parker into near anonymity for most of the game. Gibbs had another outstanding game, surely leaving Santos wondering why he came to a club that “famously” had no left-back after the sale of Clichy! Ok, he has to keep up this level of performance for a while yet to be totally convincing and to keep the Brazilian out of the reckoning and, more importantly, he has to stay fit, but he is surely the most improved player in this team and going from strength to strength.
Sagna played well enough, although not up to his usual high standards either, until he was brutally removed from the game by a challenge that would have fitted in well enough in a WWF ring. Seriously, was it just me and am I so biased or did everyone think that Assou-Ekotto had no need nor good reason to be hitting Sagna in mid-air at near-on waist height “challenging for a ball” that was sailing out of play near the centre circle?! The sight of him on a stretcher leaving the pitch in obvious and considerable pain was a sad and worrying sight for a team that is, yet again, looking at an injury list that boasts more talent than most bottom half-clubs and some top-half ones too.
But that was about it. Arshavin and Benayoun, substitutes for Gervinho and Walcott, made the best part of zero impact on the game whilst Jenkinson again demonstrated why he was playing non-league football about 5 minutes ago with a performance that made the, certainly up until the loss of Sagna, ordinary-looking Bale look, well, special! Could that be Bale’s secret? Is it possible that he is actually utter shite but better than the majority of the half-arsed right-backs in the country! If that IS the case, what is Theo’s excuse?
I cannot believe that an Arsenal team that showed how easily it could dominate Spurs for a few periods of the game simply didn’t. They just didn’t look like they had the first clue what to do when they got the ball. Hopeful passes into thrice-marked players. Long balls from defence to Friedel, fatter than ever but tested so rarely it didn’t make the blindest bit of difference. Dribbles that did nothing more than go round in circles and, inevitably, end up with a Tottenham foot being enough to steal the ball and launch a counter-attack.
Oh nutsacks. I could go on like this all day!
Put simply, Tottenham in the Champions League next season would, despite Glenn Hoddle’s hilariously biased protestations (which also included “the ball hit him on the apex of the shoulder and chest” when describing the blatant handball!), require a miracle if they play as badly as they did today in more than a handful of matches this season but we didn’t deserve anything from the game and that is what we got. Nothing. Again.
Time to get back to basics Arsenal, or we will be looking down the barrel of the “who gives a shite” cup and not another year of Champions League football. To make matters worse, it may even be the Spuds take that wrest that honour from us and there will be little worth living for next season either.
Down but not out, but with a mountain to climb and the bulk of the team apparently wearing the wrong shoes.
Oh, and in case you give a monkey’s, that gobshite, money-grabbing, shitehole AdePayMeMore was UTTER CACK today!