Where's Your Brolly Wally?
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| "1-0 to the Arsenal" |
I recall watching such a mediocre Man Utd earlier in the season and
wondering how on earth they were managing to remain there, or thereabouts, in
touch with the league leaders. Similarly, I’m sure that any neutral watching
our lacklustre win over Newcastle on Saturday would’ve found it barely credible
that they were witnessing the current title favourites, in the process of going
two points clear at the top of the table.
The afternoon looked like turning out to be even more profitable, when
it appeared as if we were destined to stretch our lead over Man City to a
somewhat more significant 5 or 6 points. Having dashed back home from the
Arsenal, to watch the late KO on the box and with the plucky Hornets retaining
their goal advantage, right up until the 82nd minute, it seemed as if the gods
were really smiling down upon us Gooners on Saturday.
Our own 3-0 win at Vicarage Road was decidedly flattering and what with
Spurs snatching a somewhat undeserved winner right at the death in Watford's
last outing, even when City equalized, I thought that surely they were due to
at least deny City a couple of points, by holding out for a draw. Seemingly
Sagna had other intentions, seeing the 32-year old full-back storming down the
flank in the 84th minute. Bakary appeared intent on dishing out some rough
justice to all those Gooners who’d booed him at our place a couple of weeks
back, by whipping in the cross for Aguero’s winner and thereby denying us a far
more comfortable cushion, over the most obvious threat to our title
aspirations.
Although I can appreciate the perceived treachery felt for any player
who mercenarily forsakes the red and white cause to serve another pay-master,
there are those former heroes who roundly deserve being given the bird by our
crowd and those who’ve spent the majority of their career providing such loyal
service that I’m always left feeling particularly uncomfortable, hearing their
every touch booed upon their return to the club in an opponent’s colours.
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| Sleeper cell, or deserved payday & a dreadlock holiday |
I certainly felt that Sagna merited a more magnanimous reception. Not
only can I not begrudge him wanting one last big payday before hanging up his
boots, but with him having suffered a Samson-like disaster the one and only
time he attempted to rid himself of his dated Bo Derek style dreads at the
Arsenal, I often wondered if a motivating factor for his move was Baks
desperate desire to finally see the back of his twee looking “Barnet”.
Who knows, perhaps much like Cesc Fabregas, Arsène’s apparent sleeper
cell at Stamford Bridge, Sagna is merely inveigling himself into Pellegrini’s
plans as a more permanent first choice, prior to perpetrating the ultimate act
of sabotage, as this campaign reaches its climax? Truth be told, we might well
end up requiring such chicanery and all the external aid we can get, if the
Gunners are to carry on in such a complacent looking fashion as Saturday’s
lamentably leaden-footed triumph.
Ultimately I was just delighted that Koscielny eventually found a means
of securing the all-important three points, which meant that my
brother-out-of-law might be invited back again. Sure with Petr Cech saving our
bacon yet again, there was plenty of satisfaction in seeing the Gunners being
able to win quite so ugly, when this essential title winning attribute has been
on the missing list for much of the past decade.
Yet with Dave over from Dublin for his first match since we departed
Highbury, it was disappointing that the Gunners failed to light up such a
depressingly rain-sodden afternoon, with this encounter lacking even the odd
isolated moment of "worth the price of admission alone",
trophy-winning type example of the beautiful game (as evidenced in City’s two
game-saving strikes).
With Özil’s body language frequently demonstrating his frustration at
the lack of vitality of those around him, the miserable weather seemed to
reflect the Gunners’ mood, as in the majority of them looking as if they’d much
rather be elsewhere! It was only when Campbell came on for the last 20 minutes
and really started putting himself about that the Costa Rican’s energy truly
put into focus the comparative lethargy of the likes of the Ox, Walcott and
Ramsey.
Wenger was on the verge of resorting to throwing the young
Reine-Adelaide into the fray to try and conjure up some inspiration. The
youngster was stripped off and waiting to come on, only for us to be denied an
opportunity of seeing if he can cut the mustard, as he was promptly sent back
to the bench when Laurent poked home what proved to be the decisive goal. So
as the stadium finally rocked with a wave of euphoric relief, my own unconfined
joy was tinged with a slight hint of sadness.
Hopefully the French midfielder
won’t be left waiting too long, as he’ll likely play some part in next
Saturday’s FA Cup encounter with BFS’ Black Cats. Doubtless with this being
timed to demonstrate that Arsène isn’t quite so desperate to splash the cash,
with more resources to be discovered from within. Whether or not Wenger
reinvigorates our squad, by availing himself of a bulging wallet, we’re
certainly desperate for some spark to reignite our recent indifferent form,
with the return of Alexis’ dynamism the most likely source.
--email to: londonN5@gmail.com
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