Pointless In The Potteries (Again!)

Warm Welcome To Stoke

So frustrating, one-step forwards, two steps back! After an impressive victory over Dortmund, we weren’t particularly convincing against an impotent West Brom and we scraped a somewhat fortunate victory in midweek against Southampton.

Nevertheless with three successive clean sheets, we were just beginning to regain some composure at the back and to gather some winning momentum and it all goes out the window at the weekend, along with the previously improving prospects of an Xmas truce that was in danger of breaking out between the AKBs and the WOB.

If Koscielny is still being plagued by an Achilles problem, I can fully appreciate the necessity to avoid overplaying him, but it was utterly unfathomable that Arsène should choose one of our most arduous awaydays of the season, for such a substantive defensive reshuffle.

It’s not rocket science and no coincidence that up until recently, the two most consistent teams in league were those that fielded the same seven of their eleven players in every match. Mercifully Matic’s absence appeared to take it’s toll upon Chelsea at St James Park.

Having been unable to avoid increasingly focusing on the exploits of the Blues with each passing week, fretting about the looming spectre of Mourinho erasing Arsène's only exclusive "Invincible" achievement, their defeat was such a blessed relief that getting anything out of our outing to Stoke was only every going to be a bonus.

Truth be told, in Koscielny’s absence, most of us had been crying out for Wenger to give Chambers a run out at centre-half instead of Monreal and for the twinkletoed Bellerin to be let off the leash at right-back. But why would anyone (in their right mind!) wait for the cauldron-like atmosphere of the Britannia, to give these two a baptism of fire?

Peter Crouch, He's 'Armless

The anxiety-ridden environs of the Potteries certainly wasn’t the place for the sort of wholesale tinkering that left our back line playing like a bunch of tentative strangers. The stat of one successful tackle during the course of the entire ninety just about says it all.

With the comparatively sedate atmosphere at our place, I adore the far more fervent experience on the road nowadays. But our annual outing to the Britannia is probably bottom of the list as the least preferable awayday outing, with Stoke having become such a bogey side in recent times.

Bizarrely the Stoke faithful seemed to have turned around our own lingering fury about the ABH effected by Shawcross upon Ramsey, somehow making themselves out to be the far from innocent victims. Mark Hughes is a wily old campaigner and after his side were unfortunate to have nothing to show for two decent performances on the road at Anfield and Old Trafford, by pouring fuel on the animosity between the two clubs, the Potters were fired up to produce the necessary intensity to get under the Gunners’ skin (yet again!).

It’s as if this encounter has become a class war, where putting one over on the lily-livered landed gentry from the capital has become a much vaunted feather in the cap for their more agricultural brand of football. But it’s hardly as if the home side’s burning desire should’ve come as the sort of surprise that saw us capitulate within seconds of kick-off!

If the Gunners were to get anything out of this game, we needed to be bang up for it. Instead of which, witnessing our positively feeble, feint-hearted efforts in some of the 50/50 challenges, it felt as if the majority in red and white on the pitch shared the same lack of relish for this outing, as those of us singing “we wanna go home” on the terraces.

Adams' Sleep-hold Audition For NYPD

I’m still uncertain why Stoke’s fourth was disallowed but this did at least save us from the ignominy of being totally embarrassed. The sight of Alexis’ potential goal of the season bouncing back off the post summed up our disappointment. Yet if there was some consolation, it was that at 3-0 down, I looked around the pitch and couldn’t see players with the strength of character to try and muster a revival. While there might have been an element of good fortune involved, I’m delighted that they proved me wrong.

Hopefully the fact that we came quite so close to a remarkable recovery will stand us in good stead and we can bottle some of this “never say die” spirit because it’s bound to be required in the hectic travails of the relentless festive schedule.

No Let Up From Alexis, Deserved To Score "Goal Of The Season"contender

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