133 Comments

Arsenal Versus Palace: Springtime Cannibalism

Posted by steww on April 17, 2016 in All Posts

With Aston Villa’s relegation now confirmed there is a whiff of the end of term about the place. The last rites have been read to Bolton and Dagenham & Redbridge and people are anointing probable winners in each of the divisions except for the fourth where Northampton are already champions. Mrs Black is making noises about airing out the Elddis with a view to dragging the old girl to the seaside for a fortnight and all over the country people are wrestling with big decisions concerning new flip flops and the location of last year’s sun lotion.

Our good friends Mike and Kelly Wood are already on vacation, not waiting for the bell at the end of the last class, and certainly not concerned about the factor 40 after a week freezing their haggises off in bonnie Scotland. They, along I suspect with you and the rest of the PA faithful, are not interested in this end of season ennui – not one bit of it. They’ve braved the howling cold and sleet of Britain in spring time partly to catch up with friends and family but also for the opportunity to cheer Arsenal towards the finish line, both this afternoon and on Thursday evening.

They aren’t buying into refrain that it’s all over now, and not just because Mike prefers the Beatles to the Stones. As long as there are enough points on the buffet table we must hope that Arsène and the boys have the appetite to go and grab them and that Leicester and Spurs can still spectacularly drop their plates and end up with devilled eggs on their faces. Okay, so the food metaphors may be a little stretched, but I’m writing this before breakfast so you’ll have to forgive me.

The realists tell us optimists that third is the best we can hope for and that settling for fourth might be the more probable outcome. I’m less comfortable predicting the future especially in this most unpredictable of seasons, but if we are in a dog fight with the giant spenders of City and United for that third spot, we need to scrap for every point from now until the final final whistle.

I know it feels wrong to be approaching May and not looking forward to an FA Cup final. That’s the price we pay for supporting a club which has been so successful in recent seasons; it seems a let down to ‘only’ be battling it out with super rich clubs for third place. Can you imagine how fans of almost every other team look at the whining hordes who claim to support Arsenal moaning about only getting a top four finish?

Having said that I know that it isn’t only Arsenal has to carry the baggage of malcontents and attention seeking children. Look at Newcastle’s wobs. Their vitriolic campaign to oust Pardew turned out really well didn’t it? In fact just look at society in general never mind football in isolation. The culture of objectifying individuals in dumb imitation of the tabloid press, whether they be football managers, actors, politicians, or whatever, is, and has been for some time now, endemic and lamentable.

From the booing in the stadium to the on-line vilification and abuse there are people out there who treat others not as fellow human beings but as mere objects, playthings for their own corrosive amusement. I thought of players like Aaron Ramsey when I read Jon Ronson’s interview with Monica Lewinsky in the Guardian yesterday. They were discussing another figure of public hate and ridicule, Mike Daisey, who said ‘I’d never had the opportunity to be the object of hate before. The hard part isn’t the hate. It’s the object.’. Lewinsky herself talked about how surprised people were that she didn’t just ‘crawl under a rock and die’ after being hounded and humiliated and becoming just a human butt for the jokes of television’s sarcastic and spiteful.

When Stoke fans boo Aaron their most fervent hope (in as much as they think at all) is to drive him and his talent under that very same rock. To inhibit him and his expression of his art to the detriment of Arsenal and the benefit of their own. When Arsenal fans join in and heap abuse on him too, the thing becomes horribly cannibalistic. Salvador Dali’s painting at the top of the page is symbolic of a nation eating itself alive and all the banner waving, abuse throwing, objectifying of our manager and players from our own fans is much the same.

A self defeating, self loathing, masochistic mess of anti support through which the manager and players must wade every week and somehow still perform at their best. Don’t believe they don’t know about either. As Ronson’s excellent article says “Some people think on-line harassment is no big deal because only idiots read the negative comments, whereas sensible people simply ignore them. It’s even considered somewhat shameful to search your name and seek out the negative comments. The truth is that it may be idiotic, but it’s human.”

Perhaps we have something else to learn from Monica Lewinsky. Maybe we should actually pity the sad attention seeking, self defeating narcissists who seem to fill every waking moment with finding new ways to vilify our most successful manager and some of our players. Maybe they are trying to tear down the thing they love because, quite simply they aren’t very well. Lewinsky’s life is in large part dedicated to combating on-line bullying and her words ring true when seen through the prism of our experience with the agents of abuse among our own support, “Don’t bully the bully. It doesn’t move the conversation forward. I see bullying as similar to cutting. People who cut are trying to localise their pain. I think with bullying, people are suffering for myriad reasons and are projecting it. Instead of cutting themselves, they’re cutting someone else.”

So in the words of PG Wodehouse, perhaps these people are to be pitied and not censured. Certainly I feel sorry for anyone who can’t enjoy the thrilling denouement to what has been a fascinating season. We begin today three points ahead of Man United and one behind their neighbours. Lose ground on those two and we are staring into the abyss that is fifth place. Today’s battle with Crystal Palace is far from an end of term dead rubber. We may not be fighting for our lives at the bottom nor for the main prize at the very top but there is still an enormous amount at stake today, on Thursday, and in the subsequent four matches.

Crystal Palace sit eight points outside the relegation zone and with fifteen points still on the table will not be turning up just to make up the numbers and entertain our transatlantic visitors. We face teams either battling for a European place, fighting to avoid relegation or with the liberating knowledge that it’s all over and every single match will be a tough one, starting today. The players have to contend with the baying of the psychophysically damaged as they enter the fray and so it is vital that the rest of us, you and I included, make as much noise in their defence and in positive support as we possibly can between now and the fifteenth of May. There might not be a trophy waiting for us, we may be a little spoiled by recent success, but we still have plenty to play for. Let’s see if we can’t cheer the boys over the line.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , Permalink
210 Comments

West Ham v Arsenal: A Prize-Less Draw

Posted by ArsenalAndrew on April 9, 2016 in All Posts

 

Honours even, it’s Boleyn over and out

A gripping, fast-paced and compelling derby ended in frustrating stalemate for both teams and their fans, with possibly the visitors feeling the dropped two points more keenly than the home side.  Having been 0-2 up on the brink of half-time, Arsenal found themselves three-two down within minutes of the break.  That their principal nemesis was a lump of a player taking full advantage of superb, almost militarily precise service and the determination of a referee to ‘manage’ the game as opposed to applying the rules of it, was typically galling.  But as on so many other occasions, imagined or otherwise by this writer, Arsenal were again undone by a player having his best game-of-the-season/career.

The ‘Ammers were fortunate not to be hammered for Carroll’s use of the studs, the elbow and a haircut too horrific to describe in decent company.  With the quality of service and the desire of the player himself in all too rare alignment for the East-enders, whilst the score line ended in parity, the disparity of a (relatively) height-challenged Arsenal side was exposed in all its limitations with the continued side-lining of both Mertesacker and Cech leaving them seemingly exposed to aerial attack at the back.

How we missed a player of the stature of Adams or Campbell opined the purists.  Given the sunset creeping around Per’s career, this could well be an ‘item’ already down on Arsene’s summer shopping list, suggested others.

However, despite the disparity, it feels something of a revelation that Andrew Carroll only won 5 of his 12 aerial battles against the cultured midgets and, given his height advantage, that he scored from 3 of those 5 is indicative of our defensive endeavour.  Sadly, an endeavour that proved not effective enough as it turned out, and the tactics of Bilic were as clear as daylight from pretty much the opening minutes of the game.  Without more height in defence, it’s unlikely this will be the last time we will find ourselves targeted in this fashion, this season or the next.

The other worrying stat brought into ever-sharper focus as a result of this weekend’s draw is the scarcity of points taken off our London rivals this season – just 6 points out of 21. Yet there was evidently no lack of desire on the part of our players today and there was a point when we almost made it 0-3, just prior to Carroll’s towering contributions, where you might have thought West Ham would have been dead and buried with the concession of one more goal.

But this stat has also to be taken in the context of a superb home record with the Happy ones now unbeaten in 14 games. Without meaning to sound bitter, it is very evident that the teams relying on a more ‘robust’ variant of the beautiful game benefit the most from the abject failure of referees to apply the rules as opposed to ‘managing the game’. Players like Carroll know with absolute certainty they can get away with sporting murder and the fact he was booked in minute four did little to deter his muscular interpretation of the rules of the beautiful (but managed) game.

So we are left third on 59 points.  Recent games have seen evidence of teams cottoning on to Leicester’s tactics as a spate of 1-0’s would appear to testify.  Interestingly, the possession stats in Saturday’s game – 39%-61% – mirror the tactics of the Plucky Ones: concede possession but hit hard on the counter. Spuds seemed suddenly less confident in their last (drawn) game. But despite this it’s hard to imagine both teams now collapsing to the point where we can realistically hope to take the championship this term.  My gut feeling is 2nd place IS realistic and very much up for grabs and would represent progress, on paper, at least.  In our heart of hearts, this season will most likely go down as the championship that got away and it’s safe to assume the banner industry will enjoy a mini-boom thanks to the disillusion on the part of some and the willingness of others to show themselves up as spoilt brats, giddy on publicity, oblivious to context and circumstance.

All I’d personally wish for is one season – just the one – where injuries don’t come to the rescue of our rivals. I do think Leicester have played some scintillating football this season and whilst the refs have hardly treated them harshly (and no matter the size of the glut, penalties don’t score themselves you know), they have played with great spirit and largely deserve to be where they are today.  Leicester aside, I genuinely do not believe there are any better sides than a fully fit Arsenal team.  That we beat the Midlanders, home and away, tells some sort of story though their superior consistency remains undeniable regardless of the background detail. Congratulations to Leicester on an outstanding effort; their (initially) impudent victories against Chelsea, Tottenham, Stoke, Liverpool, and M City in particular will live long in the memory.

* * *

Back in December, the Premier League table did not make pretty reading for the likes of Chelsea, Liverpool, and United in particular. It was close to the half-way stage of the season when I wrote a piece for PA which was based on observations of what appeared to be happening.  It was not intended as a prediction but in many ways, I’m delighted, for the sake of football in this country, that the following words still appear to hold some truth as we hurtle towards season’s end:

“… despite Man U having the highest revenue at £433 million, with City on £348m, and Chelsea on £324m, the (relatively) smaller English sides are now earning enough to buy – and pay – players of a sufficient quality to cause real problems for all the ‘big’ clubs.

 Yes, something rather wonderful is happening to English football.

 The old guard is no longer having things entirely their own way and there will be many nervous eyes cast in the direction of the explosive impact all this [new TV] cash will have on the cosy cartel that once dominated English football.

 Now everybody in the League have got their hands on the loot.

 As the prospects for the biggest clubs hang in the balance, everybody has a chance to win again and, happily, things may never be quite the same again.”

The siren voices presently shrieking for the head of Arsene Wenger all fail to take account of the relative – yet colossal – failures of just three clubs who have joint annual revenues north of £1 billion.  Banner owners everywhere wilfully ignore the debilitating impact of our own club’s injuries on an otherwise superb squad.  And they naively assume Arsene won’t strengthen in the summer despite the imminent retirement of numerous players once considered a key part of the squad.  The latest revolution within the game continues apace and yet still Wenger keeps Arsenal ahead of most of the pack, a club that is always there, always competing.

Yes, it’s possible that their activities today may drive him out in 2017.

But by then, we may all be begging him to stay.

 

ArsenalAndrew is on Twitter @arsenalandrew.

Permalink
76 Comments

Arsenal Versus West Ham: Just Desserts?

Posted by steww on April 9, 2016 in All Posts

mike and kelly

For all it’s supposed evils, fraping, grooming, cyber bullying, and those Nigerian millions I still have yet to receive, the internet is actually a fairly splendid virtual world. A parallel reality where another me can frolic free from the restraints of his earthbound self and all the baggage that sorry sack of disappointments carries about with him. I have many more Arsenal supporting friends here in this intriguing web than I ever had growing up in the three dimensional wide world. In fact I have more friends and enemies here full stop.

I’ve often wondered what might happen should someone discover a portal between universes and somehow allow our virtual selves to come crashing through into the what we laughingly think of as the ‘real world’. Like on the Simpsons when they went all 3D. Would it rupture the fabric of space time and allow evil creatures from a dark nether world to enter the cosmos wreaking devastation and misery on all they encountered? Or would we go for a stroll through the Georgian city of Bath and have a pleasant evening in a pub on the banks of the Avon?

Gladly I can report that it was the latter and the slavering hordes of what Pratchett called the Dungeon Dimensions are still safely occupied with pushing Brexit leaflets through our letter boxes. Just at the point in the season when we need every talisman, every charm and good luck gesture we can get, Mike and Kelly have flown in from the good ol’ U S of A to put their shoulders to the wheel, to heave on the rope and generally cheer the boys down the home straight.

In a selfless move reminiscent of the arrival of the humble GI in 1942 our friends from across the pond have given up the comforts of their big cars, cheap ‘gasoline’ and a waffle house every two hundred yards to pitch in and lend their voices to the Arsenal chorus.  Back in the dark days of the forties our visitors were issued with Instructions for American Servicemen in Britain. This pamphlet was filled with useful tips such as “Never criticize the King or Queen,” and “The British don’t know how to make a good cup of coffee. You don’t know how to make a good cup of tea. It’s an even swap.” It left the reader with the following exhortation “It is always impolite to criticize your hosts; it is militarily stupid to criticize your allies.”

Now I don’t know if Mike and Kelly have a similarly helpful guide to getting on with the natives or whether they are just naturally affable, open and instantly likeable people but either way I think there might be a message in that last line for us today. I’m thinking less that it would be impolite to criticise our hosts today. If you have a particular axe to grind with West Ham then have at it – football is, if nothing else, an opportunity to blow off steam and release the pressure of the humdrum with a little pantomime baiting of our opponents. I was thinking more of the second part. The stupidity of dividing our own side.

More than ever it is crucial that all fans, wherever they sit on the spectrum of Arsenal support, come together and get behind the boys in red and white. Or yellow and blue. You take my point. Time wasted biting each others ankles would surely be better spent linking arms and marching together. Wouldn’t it be a revelation if the message the players received online, in the stadium and on the radio from now on was one hundred percent supportive? Even just for these last remaining matches. There’s nothing we can do about Leicester’s quite astonishing levels of fitness, form and finishing but we can help our chaps keep their heads up as they bully off for the final chukka.

As far as today’s match and more importantly today’s opponents are concerned, the first thought that sprang to mind as I ground the beans for my morning brew was – it has been a long time coming. In fact I hadn’t had a coffee for nearly twenty four hours. Similarly our rematch with the season’s first opponents has been waiting for an inordinate period. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but then they also say the best bloggers avoid using clichés. Avoid them like the plague in fact.

Should we exact our chilled retribution for the opening day shock we will move within one point of our noisy neighbours and keep alight the slender flame of hope that Ranieri’s supermen might accidentally pick up some kryptonite between now and the middle of May. If they should falter, and it would need to be more of a collapse than a stumble at this late stage in the day, we need to be right up there with them. For my part I prefer to focus on that which is achievable and leave the wilder betting to those with more money to burn. I’m looking at Spurs and a late, late St Totts as our more likely goal. If Mr Van Gaal can pull off a shock for us at the Lane then second place will, with the right result today, be ours for the taking.

I have to be honest with you that last sentence contains too many ifs and buts for my liking. The truth is as boring as Arsène’s mantra about taking it one game at a time. There is no point in gazing at the tea leaves of the fixture list and trying to predict results in this most unpredictable of seasons. The simple fact is that the ‘big three’ have made a bollocks of the whole thing and left the door wide open for any other team who could put a long enough run together. Leicester and Spurs have seized that chance. Of the ‘big three’ Arsenal have been clearly the most successful, eclipsing Chelsea and remaining resolutely ahead of Man City despite the gargantuan gap in spending power between us and both of them. We just haven’t been sufficiently consistent since August and at the moment have to suck it up and get on with the job in hand.

That we have friends willing to travel day and night across oceans and time zones just to lend their voices to the cause warms my cockles and fills me with renewed hope. Stronger together? You betcha. Victory through harmony? You should hear these guys sing! So come on then, wherever you are, whatever you think of the manager, owner and players, let’s put our differences whether real or imagined to one side and lift the team over the obstacles that lie ahead. Starting today, let’s all do our bit to put right the wrong inflicted on us last August, let us, to quote from one of Kelly’s favourite books, “Cry aloud, spare not, and lift up thy voice like a trumpet ”

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , Permalink
124 Comments

Remember Who You Are

Posted by ArsenalAndrew on April 3, 2016 in All Posts

rockyUpon waking on Saturday morning, and after a tough week at work, I did what all sensible, mature 50-something male adults do at that time and reached for my computer and started to feverishly tap tap tap away at the controls (or ‘keyboard’) to bring up the app for my favourite fantasy.

I’ve been playing football Fantasy Premier League for about ten years and started doing so in a half-arsed bid to ‘broaden my knowledge’ of the players of other teams.  I was invited into a small league of gentlemen, some of whom I actually knew, most I didn’t.  Over the years my teams have ‘graced’ around 40 online leagues, most of them featuring teams managed remotely by people I’ve never previously heard of, let alone met.  As someone who rarely gambles, fantasy football is as good an alternative way to follow the Premier League as I can imagine and has provided an added dimension to my enjoyment of the game which invariably lasts from the first lunchtime kick-off on a Saturday through to the last fixture of the Game Week (or ‘weekend’ as it used to be called).

I mention all this by way of giving any stray reader the heads up on the parlous state of my own football knowledge.  In all this time, I have only ever won two leagues.  Just twice have I ended the season top of the league – one was a group of five participants, another a small group of 20.  The very first thing you learn about fantasy football is how little you have learnt about football despite supposedly following the game for almost five decades.

I’m currently at a season-high 13th place in The Tollington league of 50, a full 120 points behind the leader, a certain James Lowe.  The Tollington is the rammed pre-match Islington pub of choice for around 6,000 of us most matches, and located a short walk to the ground.  Despite this, I’ve never actually met James, who, over the course of the season so far, has established an all but unassailable lead over my team equivalent to around 5% of the points so far.  For a game of small margins, it’s a huge lead.

Unfortunately I can not even claim James has been lucky because, as with the real thing, we all know everything magically, and a tad randomly, evens out perfectly over the course of the season.  James also, clearly, knows more about football than me.

There is a second reason I mention this by way of the post-Watford write-up.

As part of my frenetic online fumbling around first thing Saturday, I moved young Hector Bellerin into my fantasy football side.  Given the ropey nature of our post-Xmas form, this was something of a gamble but one shared by 25% of other players of the fantasy game.

With even greater prescience, I added the even younger and less experienced Alex Iwobi – someone selected by no more than 0.3% of the entire Fantasy PL rank and file. Bellerin’s form this season has led to him being one point behind the highest ranked defender on FPL.  It’s a remarkable achievement for the player who is someone I’ve followed closely since his move to the club in the same swap deal for Cesc Fabregas, when Barcelona paid the club around £30+ million in cash. Plus Hector.

Another dumb deal by our hopelessly out of touch manager there.

And of course, both Hector and Alex played splendidly against Watford, despite my frankly inspired selection threatening to put the hoodoo on both of them.

Bellerin was the last Arsenal player I was lucky enough to meet before I stopped working for the club and it was the morning after his phenomenal assist for Ozil in the dying seconds of the Bayern Munich clash last October, that he briefly entered my world. It was known he was in the stadium for filming duties but I had no idea he was heading in my direction until he popped out of the lift in the Directors’ Entrance of the Emirates. At 5’ 10” he is taller than I imagined him to be although to be fair, the closest I’d previously got to the guy was watching him play for the Under 21s on numerous occasions when he was invariably a blur on the landscape, such is his blazing pace when charging down the wing.  Faster than Walcott, they say. Faster, even, than Usain Bolt, over 40 metres. But likely twice as modest, as I shook his hand and truthfully told him his assist to Ozil the previous evening, less than 14 hours earlier, had led to my favourite goal of the season so far.

To which his response was “Really?!”

Yes, of course it was Hector, it was a stunning effort.

So I could be forgiven for selecting Bellerin on Saturday morning for my Fantasy side but Iwobi was a far greater gamble.  That he would even play was reason enough for sensible people to avoid picking him but play he did, score he did, and establish himself as one of the break-out talents of the season, that he also surely did.

It seems to have become a ‘thing’ this season that unless a team scores first, winning a game is said to have become something of a mountain to climb.  Teams – at least those playing Arsenal – seem to go one up then shut up shop. We can batter them for the rest of the game but invariably the opposition goalie will have his game of his season (or career) and overcoming an early deficit, especially with the Emirates crowd reduced to their now traditional near-silence, seems to be the hardest thing in the world.  So Iwobi’s remarkable cross to pick out a marked Sanchez in the fourth minute was just what was needed to set the tone of a match that went on to become something of a master-class of midfield domination, good defending and effective, exciting cutting edge attack.

That this was Sanchez’s first Emirates goal since his October brace against Man U is an unwelcome stat likely to crop up in any subsequent analysis of the season but yesterday, Alex to Alexis in the 4th minute was enough to set the place alight.

The seventh minute saw a moving tribute to our former number 7, David Rocastle and the presence of his family in the Arsenal Directors’ Box was poignant.  In some ways, the tribute represents the Emirates at its best. It has been said that when Rocky first played for Arsenal he couldn’t see the goal from the half-way line.  Contact lenses transformed his game and he went on to become one of Arsenal’s most favoured and fondly remembered sons.  To this day on his frequent stadium tours, Charlie George speaks gently of the guy whose shirt is now stored in the time capsule buried beneath the Emirates.

On 38, Alexis to Alex pretty much sealed Watford’s fate on a day they hardly threatened to make a game of it. So two full league games, two goals for Iwobi. His first at the Emirates, an outstanding performance in Barcelona and a debut for Nigeria earlier in the week.  There is so much to be admired in the 19 year old’s game and his development over the 13 years spent at the club. My only regret is he has not qualified to play for England.  Perhaps he preferred to play for Nigeria but one can’t help but wonder if the FA have missed a big, big trick here.

The manner of Bellerin’s deflected goal in the 48th will be one for Heurelho Gomes, the Watford goalie to forget. Much like his comment earlier this month that “Small Arsenal won’t win the PL title”.  Going on to concede four goals against such a small side must surely represent the low point of his season.  Maybe his mind was on the FA Cup semi-final the Watford fans delightedly reminded the home fans of.

Our own fans gently pointed out we’d actually won the thing, once or twice.

The welcome appearance of Joel Campbell and his even more welcome assist to the much Twitter-maligned Walcott at the death, was pretty much the perfect end to a perfect afternoon for the Gunners.

For me, Joel is up there with Iwobi, Bellerin, Monreal, Coquelin and Elneny as THE break out players of the last 18 months or so.  All players few had previously heard of, all likely mainstays of the first team for the foreseeable future, all players sourced, nurtured and selected by a manager routinely disrespected by sections of the club’s own supporters but rightly still revered all around the football world.

And what of the context of the win itself?  Spurs went on to drop two points on Saturday evening but much will depend on Southampton’s visit to Leicester later today before the true measure of yesterday’s win can be made. To say we can only win with the pressure off is errant nonsense as we are clearly still in with a shout for first place.

That it is only a shout and not a fully-fledged expectation is the only regret of another injury-ravaged season.  That the season initially promised so much – especially on the back of an outstanding 2015 – makes Wenger some sort of victim of his own success but the remarkable consistency of his Arsenal reign in some ways makes it harder for many to again settle for 4th, 3rd or 2nd place in the league.

The nature of the demolition of a previously vibrant Watford side, made to look poor by a resurgent Arsenal squad teeming with talent, suggests we will do better next season, especially given the emergence of those new names mentioned previously.

This season’s unlucky goals ruled out for non-existent off sides, the penalties resolutely not given in our favour, the scenes of carnage in the club’s medical facilities – statistically, all this must, eventually, surely turn in our favour.

At some point, Arsenal will simply run away with the league.

This season, however, I’d settle for a championship decided on goal difference.

 

You can remind me who you are on Twitter @arsenalandrew.

Permalink
111 Comments

Arsenal Versus Watford: In Like a Lion, Out Like A Lamb

Posted by steww on April 2, 2016 in All Posts

26117183041_a0199ce64d_z

So how did you spend the football free Easter break? Tiptoeing Wordsworth like through the sudden yellow rush of spring blooms? Blowing the cobwebs off the lawnmower and wondering if that Argos garden furniture was going to last another season? Perhaps you read a book or two, planned a holiday or just filled the empty days with endless pointless arguments on Twitter. If so I hope you won, on points. You’ll never actually win of course because nobody ever changes their mind based on the opinions of someone they despise, but, if it helped pass the time then I suppose that’s all you can hope for.

I’ve done nothing of worth or merit I’m happy to say. Frivolously tearing the days of the calendar into tiny pieces and scattering their confetti to the wind as if I will live forever. Yesterday I found myself in Paulton with an hour to waste. I wonder what the condemned man, his final sixty minutes on earth laid out before him and racing away too quickly to catch, would think of my casual frittering of our only precious resource. I’ll tell you one thing I bet he wouldn’t want to spend it in Paulton.

I had dropped my son off at the local hospital and decided to see what the adjacent village had to offer. Hardly the stuff of Bill Bryson never mind Alfred Wainwright but I dutifully passed through the graveyard of an uninspiring parish church, crossed the park and marvelled at the tiny fire station unexpectedly squashed between the village hall and the swings and roundabouts of a near deserted playground.

I then chanced upon a public house. It sits opposite an imposing Methodist chapel which advertises three different forms of exotic marshal arts and a baby and toddlers group. The pub is called The Lamb and at once a wash of Arsenal fuelled memories burst across my near somnolent synapses and brought me, miraculously, back to the land of the living. It was the first week in May, 2002. John Rench and I were pondering where to watch the big game. Arsenal were due to travel to Manchester where a win would seal not only the title but another double as the FA cup had, unusually, already been won before the end of the  league programme.

In the end we decided to support an old pal.  Tony Teal had recently taken over the Lamb in Paulton and had installed a projector and a big screen and managed to get the Sky to work. Despite it being a school night we got ourselves dropped off in that remote, Godforsaken backwater of North East Somerset and watched Arsène clinch another famous victory, breaking more records along the way. It was a strange night. Not many people there, John and I the only Arsenal fans and the title celebrated with a shrug and a little drunken jig on a sticky carpet.

You see, back then winning the league, while not commonplace, wasn’t an entirely unexpected outcome. As I contemplated The Lamb yesterday morning, with its two obligatory old guys waiting for the doors to open, I couldn’t help but wonder how things have changed. At the turn of the century we thought nothing of going unbeaten away from home, winning our last thirteen fixtures and beating Man United in their own back yard, despite the absence of such luminescent talents as Thierry Henry, Dennis Bergkamp and Tony Adams – all missing on the night.

Nowadays we nervously bite our finger nails wondering if a near full strength team can overcome Watford, at home, and whether such a feat will be remotely enough to keep us in touch with Spurs and Leicester at the top of the table. In a way I can see how so many of our supporters, both the lowly humdrum types such as you and I and the immense über–bloggers on their golden thrones, paint this season as a disappointment. Despite it not nearly being over yet and despite us still being in with a shot at the title, many have already written it off. I realised as I wandered from The Lamb, passed the empty café and forlorn charity shop to the boarded up bakery opposite the site of the old boot factory, that to many, Arsenal, like Paulton, has seen better days.

The very success on which Arsène’s magisterial reputation has been built casts a shadow over his present day achievements. Achievements like back to back FA cup wins are  instantly forgotten with the first home defeat of the new season. Memories count for nothing. With attention spans as short as that of a hyperactive four year old many modern fans see nothing but circling vultures in dark skies and dream of a magical new world where money flows from a bottomless transfer budget and a new manager leads a shining new team to endless success and prosperity.

Even though I’m sober these days and do not set foot in places like The Lamb I find myself content to sit among that delusional, carefree set of fans who are actually delighted to consider the possibility of another title this spring. As remote and unlikely as that possibility might seem right now, I’m happy to contemplate it and savour the spice it adds to every remaining fixture. While others take their joy discussing the break up of our team, who we must sell, when the manager must go – and that is their prerogative, I do not deride them for it – I prefer to revel in the run in, to delight in this welcome distraction from the woes and the humdrum of my real life.

In his latest column for the Guardian, Clive James, still with us despite being told by the doctors quite some time ago to get his affairs in order, writes “…for someone in my condition, even a good result is a reminder that you have to go on throwing a double six to stay in the game”. As I read his words I thought how well he summed up our position right now. Almost at once I felt ashamed for conflating a man’s tenuous grip on his very existence with the trivial diversion of following a football team. I read on and James spoke of his delight in the simple pleasures of unexpectedly being alive to see spring flowers and the birds and squirrels in his garden.

I realised that taking delight in watching our favourite football team is perhaps not such a frivolous pastime. If passing time is in fact all we have to do during our brief moment here on earth then passing it in eager anticipation, pleasure and optimism is perhaps as good a way as any. If Arsène astounds everyone and pulls yet another success from his magic hat won’t the vicarious delight we take from his triumph be all the sweeter for having been on his side throughout? Perhaps. Either way I’m happy and grateful for all the memories and eager to see what more he will bring me however long he decides to stay. The future is neither bright nor dark, it just is. Enjoy the ride or don’t. It’s always been a choice, nothing more.

Tags: , , , , , , Permalink
150 Comments

Arsenal: The Usmanov Takeover

Posted by shotta_gooner on March 26, 2016 in All Posts

Almost every day on twitter and on blogs there are voices ranging from the humble and benign to the good and great criticizing the ownership of Stan Kroenke, not only for his refusal to spend the entire £200 million cash reserves on buying players in the fashion of United and City, but for failing to bring on board a manager who would be so inclined. One leading Arsenal blogger lamented:

“Where is the knowledge of, and passion for, Arsenal Football Club? Who is there that knows the modern game, the way it’s developing, the talent that exists throughout the world that might make this club better and more competitive? Not just on the pitch, but in every aspect. Sir Chips is simply a figurehead. The gruesome twosome of Stan and Josh Kroenke? Yeah, right.”

Make no mistake, Stan and Josh are just a convenient foil for this fairly typical type of ridicule by the blogger, but this entire screed had Arsene Wenger as the prime target.  It was already argued in the piece that AW’s dominance of the club football-wise is the greatest obstacle to Arsenal adapting to the modern game, i.e. pursuing the not so new idea that football clubs should spend beyond their organically generated resources to achieve success.  

To lay bare the poverty of the wisdom of the sage of Dublin, I decided to do some scenario planning and imagine what the club would be like if there had been an alternate takeover. Given the widespread nature of “cognitive fluency” (hat tip to d_c for spotting this piece on the BBC’s website Why are people so incredibly gullible), I doubt any of this will cause the majority of readers of this blog to stop believing the myths they are being fed daily. But at least they may be willing to consider for one moment, if the boot was on the other foot, would Usmanov be really different from Kroenke?

Background

fiszman_1872037c

So Danny Fiszman is on his deathbed, agonizingly aware that his days on earth are numbered, but fully cognizant that he must decide on the disposition of his shareholdings in Arsenal Football Club to not only prevent a fratricidal war between existing and potential owners but even more importantly to guarantee the strategic direction of the club which he had helped to define at great cost, not the least being at the expense of former friends and allies.

A life-long Arsenal fan, Fiszman bought his first tranche of shares in the club from its then vice-chairman David Dein in 1991, to acquire a seat on the board. By 1999 he owned as much as 33 per cent of the club. In his first years he took a back seat and tended to be seen only in the directors’ box at games.

But in the late 1990s he emerged to head up Arsenal’s search for a new stadium to replace Highbury, the club’s home for 86 years. Though it was Dein who brought Fiszman on to the board, the two men clashed repeatedly over the stadium project. Dein favoured a move to King’s Cross or to the restored Wembley. But in 1999 Fiszman identified a suitable plot on an Islington council rubbish dump at Ashburton Grove, about half a mile from Highbury, and it was his view that prevailed. The new stadium opened in 2006.

Fiszman subsequently became involved in the battle for control of the club between the Uzbek metal billionaire, Alisher Usmanov, and the American sports investor, Stan Kroenke. In April 2007 Fiszman was instrumental in ousting Dein from the board after differences arose over funding for the new stadium. Dein argued that external investment would be needed to control debt and remain competitive, and proposed to bring in Stan Kroenke. When he encouraged the American to buy ITV’s 9.9 per cent stake in Arsenal for £65 million, Dein was summarily drummed out as a director. By the way, the sacking of Dein by the Board is an inconvenient truth for the perpetuators of the Dein-myth, i.e. the man who would do any and everything for the best of the club. In fact the Telegraph reports it was Fiszman, who was the board member who took away Dein’s mobile phone and marched him off the premises.

Dein David

When he was cast aside, Dein decided he was free to sell to the highest bidder and in August he sold his remaining 14.5 per cent stake for £75 million to Red & White Holdings, an investment vehicle of Usmanov and his business partner Farhad Moshiri.

The Takeover

So let us stop the clock of history. Let us assume that with this move Dein gained the upper hand. Fiszman on his deathbed has long known that the game is up. His leadership in getting a one-year lockdown of directors selling their shares, his engineering of the removal from the board of Lady Bracewell-Smith, Keith Edelman and Richard Carr, was valiant but ultimately an act of futility.  So in March 2009 he would have sold 5,000 ordinary shares at a total cost of £42.5 million to an “anonymous buyer”, later revealed as Usmanov, in a deal which increased the Uzbek’s stake in Arsenal to 20.5 per cent. Despite subsequent assurances that he had no intention of selling any more shares in the club, three days before his death, on 10 April 2011, Fiszman would have sold his remaining shares to the business magnate, helping Usmanov to take control of the club with a 62.89 per cent holding.

Usmanov fencing

As the sage of Dublin and others now advocate, wouldn’t such a turn of events have led to Arsenal falling into the hands of modern football men, those with the ambition “to speculate to accumulate.” Surely a man of such enormous wealth, reputedly in excess of his countryman and fellow Premier League owner, Roman Abramovich (Net Worth:  £11 billion vs £5 billion).

I would suggest we can only judge the Uzbek on the public statements he has made about his policies for the club. On 5 July 2012 Usmanov and his investment vehicle, Red & White Holding’s PLC., issued the following as their vision for the Club?

“ A debt free Club, with a big enough war chest to buy top talent players who can hit the ground running and who can complement the Club’s long tradition of developing young players and homegrown talent.”

Is this any different from Stan Kroenke’s current policies? War chest? £200 million?

In fact R & W concluded their 2012 letter by stating:

“…in order to formalize our long-term involvement with the Club and put an end to any speculation over our position, we, as the co-owners of Red&White, will proudly retain our holding in the Club as a long-term investment for ourselves and our family members to benefit for generations to come.”

So Usmanov is just another long term investor like Stan Kroenke. Hmmm.

Is it any surprise, after seeing the steady regular growth of the value of his investment, only this week Usmanov was reported by leading Russian publication, Rossiya24 as saying:

“Arsenal’s results are stable,

 “They are always among the leaders of the English Premier League. This is a good and large sports business project, and I am pleased with it.

“The only thing is that today such situation occurred, like in any sport, there are ups and downs. The club must retain its major symbol and main asset – manager Arsene Wenger.

“I believe that Arsene Wenger is a great coach, and Arsenal have to give him the opportunity to plan the succession process and leave his legacy when he deems it necessary.

“It is very important for the football club to maintain the principles that were established by those people who created its victories. Arsenal need Arsene Wenger.”

My heavens. Not even Kroenke has given Arsene such an overwhelming endorsement.

Conclusion

So despite the naive, infantile caterwauling by bloggers and podcasters, Usmanov, who is currently the only real alternative to Kroenke as owner of our club, far from throwing Arsene under the bus, not only wants him to stay but is urging that he be able to choose his own successor. Maybe those of us with nothing at stake, except our season tickets and bragging rights (including traffic to our blog-sites), should take stock and simmer down.

Tags: , , , , , Permalink
108 Comments

Arsenal – Where is my Rattle ?

Posted by anicoll5 on March 20, 2016 in All Posts

Speedo mick

Annyeong hashimnikka my fellow Positivistas,

A polished performance against Everton yesterday and an entirely deserved win set the weekend rolling forward in a very pleasant fashion. We shall see how it ends by abut 6 p.m. tonight with the final whistle at the Lane and Trafford Park.

Of the game itself I admit even at 2-0 up I was never quite comfortable. Given that we were dominant, and defended well I can only put my edginess down to recent trauma and disappointment. To play as well as we did in Barcelona, to work so hard and yet still to be defeated would surely sap the (mental) strength of Achilles?

Not at all. After 63 hours off we looked the fresher, fitter side. A week after hammering the hated Chelsea it was Everton who struggled to match our energy and initiative.

Loud clapping for Danny and Alex Iwobi whose composed finishing was crucial in deciding the contest. The younger player particularly took his chance with great maturity, pace, balance, accuracy of shot = the holy trinity of finishing. What a week that young man has had!

I think the best moment in the game however was in the 44th minute, edge of the EFC box, Iwobi backheels to Danny, who immediately backheels to Iwobi. The Everton defenders’ heads were spinning, outrageous cheek and sublime skill.

Other plaudits for Ospina who, despite getting a painful bang, soldiered on. It would have been easy, indeed understandable for him to withdraw. I was yelping at the TV screen for a change as our Colombian hobbled about. He stayed in there and did his job. Brave boy. Elneny and Le Coq worked perfectly to see off the Everton midfield, Kosc and Gabriel sniffed out any spark Lukaku or Barkley might have lit. Bellerin and Nacho very sound going forward and disciplined as the home side got a toe-hold late on in the game. Sanchez good and unlucky with his penalty which really would have killed the game. Ozil always a yard ahead and a second faster than the pack of blue dogs chasing him. If I have left anyone out please feel free to add your comments, they all deserve it.

As for our opponents the opening sentence of the match report on the Toffees’ fan website Nil Satis Nisi Optimum ( Only the Best is good Enough) sums up their afternoon “Everton have fallen to their eighth home league defeat of the season after a first half masterclass from Arsenal condemned them to a 2-0 loss”

In line with my opening reference to being a little unsettled the game was just seconds old when the little urchin Coleman managed to clip our woodwork! The early high point however was about as exciting as it got. For the next 94 minutes Everton were, I thought, pretty bloody dire. That they apparently have the second worst home defence of any club in any top flight league in Europe surprises me not at all. Roberto Martinez can thank Mr Clattenburg that they are still only second in that league of Euro defensive infamy. The booing at the end of the game by what sounded like a lot of home supporters is ominous for the smooth Spaniard, especially with a new owner recently aboard and no doubt keen to make a splash. If I owned shares in Martinez I would sell.

We now all have a well earned break over the next few days. Use the down time wisely and enjoy your Sunday.

* for those who do not know the picture is of Speedo Mick, Evertonian and charity fund raiser – a man who laughs at adversity, with very tight trunks on and in all weathers.

Permalink
76 Comments

Arsenal Versus Everton: Blindness, Intoxication and an Eternal Song

Posted by steww on March 19, 2016 in All Posts

La-Miseria_Rojas_PD

As you know I enjoy subverting the concept of the match review, ignoring the accepted wisdom of the ages and not padding out my piece with projections of the line up, the score and the performance. I prefer to take some aspect of my day to day journey through this vale of tears and explore how it relates to the beautiful game in general and to Arsenal in particular. This is partly to avoid simply echoing all the other match day writers who already do a far better job than I could ever hope to keeping us abreast of the manager’s press conference, the injury list and just what it is that is so wrong with our club. I also have the words of Martin Mull running through my mind – “writing about music is like dancing about architecture”.

Now before you scroll spluttering for the comment box to point out that this is a football blog and not the New Musical Express, allow me a moment to elucidate. I find the quotation is appropriate here because the match preview is in essence writing about the future. Discussing events which have yet to occur is an equally futile exercise as I’m sure Laurie Anderson, Steve Martin, Frank Zappa, Elvis Costello, Thelonius Monk, Clara Schumann, Miles Davis, George Carlin and all the others who have been credited with Mull’s words would happily attest.

Some of you seem not to mind my rambling, off key approach to the match day which is hugely gratifying, and quite frankly those who don’t give a fig for my extended metaphors and tenuous allegorical fluff can still join the discussion below which is surely the true function of any supporters blog. I don’t believe it matters much what is said up here in main article the true value to this and any other Arsenal forum is the sharing of ideas and opinions. That is certainly where I learn most about the game and about my fellow travellers on this annual journey.

Which is a bloody good job because, as the more perspicacious among you may have twigged, I don’t have a lot to say this morning. My dearly beleaguered wife has fallen victim to some dreadful species of lurgy and I have been playing Florence Nightingale all week. Consequently I have barely thought of football nor anything else beyond emptying the bucket and dampening the handkerchief in order to cool her fevered brow. Yesterday evening, as I was patting the back and holding the hair out of the way, issuing the soothing words and generally doing all the things one does while silently offering up a prayer not to catch it myself, I turned over a few thoughts on today’s blog and came up empty, as indeed did my wife.

Which is a shame really because we are now in the narrows of the channel, signifying journey’s end. This, as the poet famously wrote, is it. Things are in the process of being decided. Stuff is coming to a head. Cup competitions are at the quarter and semi final stage, the race for the league is on the last bend before the home straight. Every Arsenal fixture is like a cup final but even if we win them all we have no guarantee of ultimate success. What a time to run out of things to say!

It’s a real shame because today’s match could be a humdinger. Everton are on a high right now after shoving the most hated team in the country through the door marked ‘Exit’ in their recent FA Cup tie. In Romelu Lukaku they have a genuine talent and, for me, an honest player and we have all admired their manager’s approach to the beautiful game and his refusal to bow to the lowest denominator kick ’em and rush ’em style beloved of the knuckle dragging set. John Stones looks an elegant and promising young defender and with that thug now sold to Norwich they are a much more likeable bunch.

We on the other hand will be buoyed by a spirited performance in Catalonia although no doubt disappointed not to have got more than one goal for all our efforts. The main worry for Arsenal is the heavy work load under which our players have laboured so valiantly of late. That must be weighed against the focus that our elimination from two of the three remaining competitions will surely bring to our game. It is, in the crude vernacular of my peers, shit or bust time. There is only one prize, no distractions, nothing else to aim at and so they will surely put any weariness behind them and go for broke this lunchtime.

One thing I am determined not to say today, one expression I have already deleted three times is ‘bounce back’. Not because it isn’t apposite given our unhappy results of late. It’s just that I’m sick of saying it this season. We have never put a decent run together, not for long enough anyway. We seemed to get pegged back each time we approach anything like a little consistency, either through untimely injuries, profligacy in front of goal, lapses at the back or just obdurate opposition from either visiting teams or referees. We haven’t ever really gotten out of third gear have we? And yet somehow we are just about in touch with the Marvel superheroes of Filbert Way and our noisy neighbours. Just about.

Well, there isn’t any time left now. We need to find a way to get the cogs to mesh and we need to start today. We also need Mr Pochettino and his pretenders to catch a dose of whatever is ailing she who must be obeyed and Ranieri’s transformed supermen to forget to take their glowing green pills for a few games. Even then even the most positive among us know we face a short but steep and difficult climb. I haven’t given up yet and I’m certain the manager and players haven’t either. Of course I never give up until it is mathematically impossible to win and then I simply enjoy the final few matches of the season and start to look forward to the next.

Anyway, the bell marked ‘Master Bedroom’ is tinkling again so I probably need to get back upstairs and change the sheets again and see if I can’t force a few dry crumbs through her parched, cracked lips. Before I go let me just apologise once more for having nothing to say today, hopefully the muse will return in time for Watford’s visit in a fortnight’s time. In the meantime let’s gird our loins once again and see if that elusive consistency can arrive just in the nick of time. Ultimate success may appear a distant and unlikely prospect right now but we can all take comfort from the words of the late lamented Terry Pratchett who taught us that “million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten”. It ain’t over till it’s over boys and girls, and, as I keep telling my patient, where there’s life there’s hope.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , Permalink
30 Comments

Fred (The Shed)

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on March 18, 2016 in All Posts
Heads or Tails? Fred Paxford, Gunner aged 82.
Hello again! Im not up at the shed today but back at home, Ive just been cleaning out the old pantry. I’m just having a cuppa and a cheese sandwich here at the kitchen table. I was having a moment then started thinking about going in the garden and planning what I will grow this year,a few runners and maybe the old Dorothy Perkins perhaps. I came second in a competition a few years ago for my marrows so I might do a few of them. There’s a nice young family at number 45, and I tend to give them a few veggies as its too much, what with being on me own and all.
My nephew came around yesterday and read me your comments.How nice they were! I did have a rattle as little lad,we all did that went to Highbury in them post war years.Many times I would hear a voice shout out to my Dad “here mate send your son down here” and I would get lifted up and passed overhead from the back where we were standing and pushed to the front so I could see the game clearly. There wasn’t anything suspicious about them blokes, just kind gentlemanly fellows who allowed me to see all the game. I can see them all now, standing there before me, you think its going to stay like that forever, but times soon change.Shocking really.
I went with my old Dad as much as I could.You would have liked him.He fought in the Spanish Civil war but soon transferred as an ambulance driver once he was over there.I dont think he was much a of a fighting man.Went over on next to nothing and came back a different man. Mum went potty, her Dad, my Grandfather had a penny or two, so while Dad was away we were okay.But I dont think my Grandfather approved or ever forgave him. Cut the old man out of his will!
Talking of which, my Dad never did trust that Stalin again,he felt he let the POUMS down and later thought he was nothing but a big blood-thirsty bully.But he stayed a Socialist despite all.Then came the war. He loved Arsenal and followed them until 1971 when he died.He didn’t see the double year though as he passed away in the January.Somewhere we still have a Cup Final ticket from 1927.Dad was pretty upset about that game.He always said” that’ll teach em to wash the bloody shirts before a match!”. Then Dad would smile kindly with a twinkle in his eye and say, “funny that old Dan Lewis being a Welshman and all”. He didn’t mean anything nasty about it though and said he felt sorry for Dan to have to carry all that about for the rest of  his life.I think  Dad would have had a stern word to say about them AAA types though! They have no dignity in losing. Its like moaning about the rain.Where would we be without the rain?No food that’s for sure! But people seem to demand things these days,and get upset if they dont get what they want.
So my nephew was telling me about this here banner! My word, poor lads really, lucky them who can spend money on that daft thing.But its all perspective really,as my wife Joan would say. Im sure the poor youngsters want to win all the time.Bit potty really as footballs not really like that is it? During my time Ive seen years of barren runs.But we still cheered the Gunners on.I remember us  playing Real Madrid,cor we was excited to see them players like Puskas and. Di Stefano.Must have been back in 62 I think. We did pretty well, and at HT everyone was saying “We’ll show them”.Gave us a 4-0 beating!But it was still something special.Not much to get all upset about. You’ve got to savor these moments as they wont come back.
Joan was an marvellous person.She ran the local library, and always had her nose in books.I can still see her sitting in the chair over there, in my mind. Im more a gardener really.Tried me hand at a few watercolours,but only a few landscapes.Not much cop really.But she always encouraged me. Joan and I would sit of an evening looking out over the garden and she having read all them newfangled books on psychology and would be telling me all these new ideas,and I would be telling her about the life cycle of the Barnacle Goose! What a pair we were.You would have liked Joan.
One thing she always said was “use your loaf Fred!”.And would then tell me how to think straight and positive,or to be like a willow tree,you know bend and flex with the winds of change.What can you achieve by getting all upset? “Whats good can often later be bad and vice versa,its always hard to tell” she would say.Quite wise really.I suppose thats what wisdom is.Being smart without all the emotion. I think we need a bit more o that at our club,what do you think? And a bit more of that in our time.
Sometimes I think back to all those players from the past that wont get statues or even acknowledgement,yet they are as much as part as AFC as Henry or Bergkamp. But to the young supporters, they didnt exist.
When I used to get upset about anything in life I always thought of Mr.Rose. Mr.Rose was our neighbour, he and his wife came over from Germany in about ’38 I think.He was a lovely fellow,gentle and kind. Mrs.Rose was a bit hard and quiet,and standoffish I asked Mum and she told me to hush, and that Mrs.Rose was a shy lady that’s all. Well in the Autumn after the war a man came to their house, Dad spoke with him too and said he was a Rabbi who had come with some news.We could hear Mrs.Rose crying day after day.I asked Mum and she told me to hush, but when Dad and I were up on the allotment, he told me. All of Mr and Mrs Roses’ family had been killed in the war in those bloody horrible camps.The kids too. I was sort of stunned and shocked.Dad said “no matter how hard we think our lives are,there’s always somebody worse off”.So thats what I try to think of,you know, have a bit o perspective.Arsenal losing is pretty horrible, or so it seems, but only because we make it so and nothing compared to what the Roses family experienced.So that why I think these AAA types bloody mad as March hares!
Mrs.Rose died of what they called grief in 1949. But Mr.Rose lived on.He wasn’t the same though,he always seemed far away. He died in 1959. My Mum and Dad looked out for him as much as possible.He even came with me and Dad a few times to the Arsenal.And he liked it too.
Well, better get on,its been nice to have a chat again. Let me know if you fancy a natter again sometime.Take care o yourselves! And keep your
heads up!
Cheerioh!
Permalink
77 Comments

Arsenal – Distant Peaks Glimpsed

Posted by anicoll5 on March 17, 2016 in All Posts

 

Wadi Rum

Bon dia Positivistas,

By no means the result we were looking for but a decent performance last night against FCB I thought. There was no timidity in our approach, we brought the game to the opposition from the first to the last whistle. To meet and beat that mob, a side requires a faultless performance in defence and in converting the handful of chances that will come your way. And if by some chance you do manage to get a result over the 90 minutes then you have to do it all again, at their place! Just at the moment we are not doing ‘faultless’. Another season passes with the Champions League trophy distant on the horizon, we can see the route, we have a guide but it remains at least a day’s trek away (see above).

I thought a number of our players deserve a special mention for their efforts last night. The two most obvious are Alex Iwobi and Mo Eleny both of whom did not just put in an excellent physical performance to wrestle ownership of the midfield back and forth, they passed well, tackled cleanly and behaved as ‘professionals’. A first and very good goal for Mo that, for a little while at least, rattled Barcelona. I thought Danny and Alexis both hammered away all night in an effort to get on the score sheet. Ospina has taken over smoothly from Cech to the extent that no one even mentioned his second choice status last night. In spite of the usual naming and shaming hysteria on social media I did not see any of our players who put in what you might call a poor or bad performance.

My God I even thought the referee did OK.

Onward to Merseyside on Saturday lunchtime. While there may be an argument that we will be at a disadvantage after just two days recuperation, I thought we looked as though we had plenty of energy last night, even in the final few minutes. Our record against Saturday’s opponents is a little erratic. Traditionally they were easy meat home and away but in recent years have put up more of a fight, especially on their home turf.

There is cause for some optimism though. While Everton had a good win against Chelsea in the Cup we arrive with their Premier League form at Goodison in poor shape. Checking their last nine home PL games shows just one win (against Newcastle) four draws, and five defeats. Their most recent setbacks a 2-0 lead against the ‘Appy ‘Ammers ending in a 2-3 defeat, and a loss to Pulis’ mighty West Brom. Clearly home form like that would be grounds for a very large banner indeed in certain parts of North London but Martinez, smooth-talking Spanish chappie that he is, has floated serenely past the flak with the FA Trophy a useful shield.

Hopefully we can dent Roberto’s bland confidence and regain a little of our momentum for the final Premier League run-in. There is still a prize to play for, be in no doubt.

Have fun, but don’t go mad.

 

Permalink