A guest post from Out For A Corner  

When people think of football, not many think of Tower Records in Piccadilly Circus, but on a cold, spring morning in 1988, it was the only place to be. Or, more accurately, it was the only place where tickets for the upcoming Littlewoods Cup Final were about to go on sale. An Algerian Gooner I worked with had invited me to come with him to try to get tickets: Arsenal versus the not-so-mighty Luton Town. After an hour or so standing outside in the cold, our turn came, and we bought our tickets to the final.

In America in the late seventies and early eighties, there were two ways to see football from Europe. The annual broadcast of the FA Cup Final on ABC’s Wide World of Sports was the only time all year that a match was shown in full (or nearly full – I think they still cut away for ads and maybe some ten-pin bowling). The weekly broadcast of Soccer Made in Germany was generally a better bet. It was a highlights programme, and it not only showed Bundesliga matches but also European matches that involved German teams. With a British commentator and featuring impossibly exotic-sounding teams such as Eintracht Frankfurt, Borussia Mönchengladbach, Wolverhampton Wanderers and West Ham United, the programme offered a tantalising glimpse into a very different world.

Even with this limited access to watching football, I knew that having a Cup Final ticket was something special. As we entered Wembley Stadium, the sight of packed terraces reminded me of the matches I had watched on television a few years before. It was impressive to see more than 95,000 people squeezed in to the old, crumbling stadium, but it was not so enjoyable to be one of them! After a long struggle, we finally found a place to stand. As we settled into our spot, I noticed that one of the people behind us must have spilled his drink, and it was trickling down the terrace. On seeing a second and third stream of liquid, the penny that others had spent eventually dropped. We quickly shuffled sideways, out of the path of the dripping liquid.

The terrace-based sprinkler system notwithstanding, it was an entertaining match. Arsenal conceded an early goal but came back after halftime, scoring two goals in three minutes to take the lead 2-1. The Arsenal goals gave me my first experience of being swept forward in a mass of euphoric supporters – frightening, but thrilling. With about ten minutes left, the referee awarded a penalty to Arsenal, and it seemed the perfect opportunity to finish off the match. However, Nigel Winterburn had his penalty saved. Soon after, Arsenal defender Gus Caesar (“I came. I saw. I fell over.”) gave the ball away in the Arsenal penalty area, and Luton equalised. Then, in the 90^th minute, Luton scored the winner. Defeat snatched from the jaws of victory! (© Arsenal)

As the Luton fans celebrated at the other end of the ground, I asked myself: what kind of a team throws away victory in a cup final? More importantly, did I want to support a team that throws away victory in a cup final? The answer to the second question was no – or, rather, not yet.

Having had my budding passion for Arsenal extinguished so painfully, I moved into the next stage of my football-watching career: I became an interested neutral. Without an allegiance to any team, I was free to appreciate good football wherever I found it – sometimes in the most unlikely places. Yes, dear reader, I am not afraid to tell you: I visited White Hart Lane several times, and I often enjoyed it. Those were the heady days of Gary Lineker, Paul Gascoigne, and Terry Venables. It goes without saying that Spurs won nothing; they did, however, manage to put together a good end-of-season run to finish third. You probably don’t need me to tell you that they have not finished that high in the table since then.

Some matches I attended in this period were notable from a football perspective. Cristiano Ronaldo’s debut for Manchester United, Real Madrid’s 5-1 demolition of Olympiakos in the Bernabeu, Atlético Madrid v Bobby Robson’s Barcelona in a Copa del Rey match that featured three future managers (Pep Guardiola, Diego Simeone and Luis Enrique), and Manchester United knocking Internazionale out of the Champions League at San Siro. Other matches stay in the mind for more unusual reasons. On the way to Adams Park to see Wycombe versus Brentford, I was a victim of football-related hooliganism. Yes, I was hit by an egg. (Annoyingly, the Brentford fans I was with escaped without a drip.) At Old Trafford, the sight of Dave Busst’s horrific leg-break led Peter Schmeichel to be sick on the pitch.

More than any other, though, a match at Plough Lane (Wimbledon v Tottenham) in the late eighties summed up the era. At halftime, there was an announcement that crowd trouble had interrupted the FA Cup semi-final that was being played at Hillsborough between Liverpool and Nottingham Forest. The people on the sparsely populated terrace around us booed the Liverpool supporters and sang songs about the ‘drunken Scousers’ who they assumed had caused the trouble. After the match, on our way back into London on the District Line, I overheard a group of lads next to us discussing the other matches that were being played in London that day. Their conversation had a chilling conclusion. After identifying which teams were playing, they decided to head to Kings Cross – to attack the Newcastle supporters who were on their way home after seeing their team play Arsenal.

That reminds me, what about Arsenal? Despite their success in the late eighties and early nineties, I found the team of that time difficult to like. They seemed a bit thuggish: they were punished with a points deduction for a brawl with Manchester United, and their captain went to prison for drink-driving. However, their most obvious flaw (in my eyes) was that their football was not very enjoyable to watch. They did, however, have an amazing will to win. I watched the finale of the 1988-89 season at my Arsenal-supporting friends’ flat on Liverpool Road. As Liverpool lost the ball with seconds left, I told my friends that Arsenal were about to score – and so it came to be. Aguero, my arse – there has never been a more exciting finish to the season than that match. But even after Anfield, they weren’t my team.

A few years later, I moved to Islington. I was still a neutral, but looking to attend more matches. I suggested to my Liverpool Road friend that we get season tickets to Arsenal and Spurs so we could go to a match every weekend. He declined. As it turns out, that was the year of the first League title (and FA Cup) in the Arsène Wenger era, and there has been a (long) waiting list for season tickets ever since.

In the years between Anfield ’89 and the 1998 Double, I had looked out for whichever team was playing attractive football: the Neil Webb-era Nottingham Forest, Norwich City for a time, Kevin Keegan’s swashbuckling Newcastle, and then, in the years following the arrival of a certain Frenchman, Arsenal. They say if you watch enough football, a team will find you. Well, it took a long time, but eventually the Wenger-era Arsenal found me.

Years later, my friend redeemed himself when he pointed out that there was a residents scheme for the new stadium. Local residents who were on the season-ticket waiting list would be, in effect, allowed to jump the queue. This was Arsenal’s clever, if somewhat cynical, way of placating local opposition to their plans to build a new stadium and help to pay for it by building several high-rise blocks of flats. I signed up to the waiting list, and I was assigned number 37,000-something. I was one of the last to get a ticket before the cut-off.

One of the benefits of the residents’ priority scheme was that it led to life imitating art: in Fever Pitch, Nick Hornby described what he imagined life would be like when he moved to Highbury:

In my street, of course, it would be Arsenal supporters, rather than commuters, who emerged, and they would all be wearing flat caps and faded bar-type red-and-white scarves. And they would see me and smile and wave, and I would immediately become a much-loved and valued member of a happy, working-class Arsenal community.

It wasn’t quite like that, but it wasn’t too far off either. Several people in the neighbourhood have season tickets, and it is not uncommon on match-days to see people emerging at the same time, proudly wearing their bar-type red-and-white scarves. We even occasionally wave to one another.

As well as enabling me to join the local Gooner community, obtaining a ticket marked the end of neutrality. And so began the final part of my journey: as a supporter.

The first season after the move had some real highs: the Bergkamp testimonial (Marco van Basten and Johann Cruyff in the flesh – incredible), the last-gasp Henry header(!) to beat Manchester United – and then the trip to Cardiff to see the Carling Cup Final against Chelsea. I was sure things would be different. In some ways they were: this time, Arsenal scored first. But old habits die hard, and Arsenal still contrived to concede two goals to lose 2-1, Didier Drogba playing the Mark Stein role. Abou Diaby’s full-blooded kick to John Terry’s face was scant consolation.

Fast forward to 2011 for the Carling Cup Final against Birmingham City at the ‘new’ Wembley. Arsenal conceded an early goal but equalised before halftime. The score stayed level until the 89th minute when, in a poorly timed homage to Gus Caesar, Koscielny and Szczesny conspired to give the ball away to Obafemi Martins who gratefully scored the winner. Three League Cup final defeats in three stadiums!

And so to 2014: the FA Cup this time –not the dreaded League Cup – and a semi-final against Wigan, the holders. Arsenal follow the usual script by going behind, but then something amazing happens. They don’t throw the game away. They equalise and then take the match to extra-time. No goals, so on to penalties! What are you made of, boys? Well, sterner stuff than previous years – Arsenal win on penalties. The final? A cake-walk. Arsenal spot Hull City two goals just to make things interesting. Santi tries to outdo Gazza with his free kick to pull one back. Kos emulates Per’s semi-final heroics by scoring the equaliser, and then it is left to The Man – Aaron Ramsey – to score the winner from a ‘gorgeous’ Olivier Giroud back heel. My twenty-six year wait is over. As the players parade the trophy, I look down and notice that the person behind me has spilled his drink. This time, however, it is only Coca-Cola.

So, in the end, what led to me becoming an Arsenal supporter?

It wasn’t the winning or the new stadium. It wasn’t the glamour of new signings. It certainly wasn’t the long-running tendency to lose big Cup matches. Two things made the difference: the way they played – breathtaking, attacking football allied to a miserly defence – and they way they operated. I came to recognise that the Club’s values were compatible with my own. Where others had oil money, Arsenal had stability. Where others had expensive, ready-made star signings, Arsenal had unknowns (or little-knowns) who became stars. Where others mortgaged their future, Arsenal lived within its means. Where others had a new manager every year, Arsenal had the pioneering genius Arsène Wenger. It took me a long time to make my mind up to become an Arsenal supporter – about eighteen years – but, having made the decision, I haven’t regretted it once.

On another note: One of our wise contributors to Positively Arsenal, ZimPaul has been sick. He is one of the guys who will keep his cool when everyone else is losing their heads. We would like to wish him the best and a speedy recovery, and will miss his contributions until he comes back here.

 ***

Message from George:

I can’t begin to express the distress that Paul’s post has brought to me (see below). It seems so horribly final. I hope for once the great man has chosen his words poorly or that I am reading them wrongly.

It’s clear that I’m not alone in holding Paul in such high regard, he truly is a prince among men and should be an inspiration to us all. 

Love you Paul.

Pedantic george.

“ZimPaulSeptember 6, 2014 at 7:08 pm Edit

There we have it then, the window is firmly shut.

Looking in through the window of summer 2014 I can see a nice collection of players have been acquired for our future entertainment.

We have some genuine competition for the goalkeeping position in David Ospina. He may or may not be better than Fabianski but I feel he is a bigger threat to Wojciech simply because he has no baggage; he has never been dubbed with a disrespectful nickname like “Flappianski”.

The French No.1 RB Debuchy has replaced the French No. 2 LB Sagna, and he looks to have a better delivery and be equal to Bac in other departments.  He is of course younger.

Chambers can play at CB, LB and we are assured CDM. That is good news for us going forward and he looks a real gem.

We wanted a world class striker, well that is exactly what Alexis Sanchez is. It’s no good saying he is not a striker – Arsene says that is what he has bought him as. Therefore that is what he is.

Joel Campbell has come in and Arsene has been good to his word and kept him at the club. Had we bought him, people would be very excited about his acquisition.

That’s 5 very good players who have come into the squad before yesterday’s madness.

People (very stupid people) say most, if not all, of these players are replacements and not additions. Completely ignoring the fact that with a fixed limit of 25 squad players, ALL incoming players can only be replacements. All that it is possible to do is replace squad players with better squad players. As far as that goes I feel we have done just that.

In addition to these, yesterday we signed Danny Welbeck from MUFC. With Giroud being long term injured we needed a player who can play at CF and link-up play. It seems he is ideal for that.

Back in June I was arguing on twitter with someone who suggested we should sell Giroud and replace him with Welbeck. This was my tweeted reply

“If we replaced Giroud with Welbeck, I’d join the BSM, AST, start reading Le Grove and be a WOB overnight.”

I stand by that.

Giroud is, in my opinion, a better player than Welbeck, and I would have been furious if we had sold Giroud and Welbeck was his replacement. However as an understudy and cover for injury, he will more than suffice. He is also of an age that a big leap forward could easily be achieved.

Now, looking out of the window I can see some players walking by that we could have bought.

A CB seemed to me a must. Goodness only know why we didn’t get one, and when I next see Goodness,I’ll ask him why!

Perhaps I would also have looked for a DM that could learn from Mikel and cover for him when he needs a rest. But we do have Flamini and perhaps Jack too. I think if jack wants a starting place, the holding role looks his best bet. We’ll see.

All in all I think its been a good window. I also think if the right players had been available then we would have gotten them and it would have been even better.

I feel that had Giroud not been injured it would have appeared a lot more impressive a window than it is currently perceived.

However, whether we are completely happy or not, we march on with the troops we have, at least until January when the madness will begin again.

By pedantic george aka @Blackburngeorge

A guest post by Kelly Woods  @kmwoods02

Aaron Ramsey had his worst game in 12 months against Everton. He tried too hard. He forced things. Yes, he scored a goal, but don’t miss the fact that his performance was poor. And speaking of goals, I’m worried that he’s publicly admitted that he set himself a target of 20 goals this season. Whoa, there, son. Remember, it’s not about you. I know you want to start taking games by the scruff of the neck, but remember to just play your game.

These are all things that have come across my Twitter timeline since Saturday’s game. And I follow positive, considered people, who really do support our players. I know they do. And I respect and value all of them and their opinions – at least I do since I cleaned up who I follow. I cannot imagine what the rest of Twitter is saying, and I really don’t want to try.  But if you will, let me articulate how I disagree with almost everything in that first paragraph. And to ask that we consider what it is that we really want from players.

First let me get this out of the way – Aaron was not at his effervescent best against Everton. I support, but I’m not blind. The whole team was out of sorts, and most of what he tried didn’t come off. Also true of other players as well. But let me point out a few things, courtesy of the stats-tastic 7amKickoff and his By the Numbers column for Arseblog:

Out of 69 passes attempted (the most for the team), 12 were misplaced. All but 2 of those misplaced were attacking passes, trying to create a chance. 5 of them were in prime areas, where goal conversion rates are high. One of the aforementioned 2 was just horrible – it went straight to an Everton player and almost gave me a heart attack. Only 4 tackles attempted, 2 of which were successful, and no dribbles. And no chances created. Also, there was that goal.

Ok, so what do stats show? Not the whole story, I’m well aware of that. Aaron’s defensive game was a bit weak and his attacking game was ineffectual on the whole. I think that had a lot to do with not having Arteta next to him, and trying to compete with Jack and Alex for space in the middle. But the question remains – what was he supposed to be doing in this game, and did he do it?

I think we should all come to grips with this fact: Aaron is a flair player. He will always try the Hollywood pass. Some seem to think that he’s changed somehow, that he doesn’t do that anymore. And they see yesterday’s performance as a reversion to a previous flawed way of playing. Nonsense. He has always been this player. By all accounts it’s been so since he was 8 years old. Stories of him demanding the ball from older teammates abound. “Let me do it” has always been his way. His off-pitch personality belies this fact, perhaps, as some don’t expect shy, quiet, introverts to behave this way. But it’s been said of him forever that he “expresses himself on the pitch”.

But, Kelly, I hear you say. Arsene said he told him to simplify his game. To go back to basics. True. But Aaron said this in an interview when asked about that:

“It was a difficult period for me where things weren’t happening the way I would like them to, and he called me in and just told me to simplify my game and get my confidence back that way…I did that for a few games, and then obviously you get more confident as every game goes on, and, yeah, I’m thankful for that.” (emphasis added)

That says to me that simplifying his game was not intended to be a permanent change. At least he didn’t interpret it that way. And Arsene had this to say Saturday:

“He has the engine and he gambles on getting in the box a lot and he has that timing to get where you need to be. He got rewarded like these kind of players do.”

“Gambles.” He gambles. He takes risks. He gets rewarded. He has a “can’t win if you don’t enter” mentality. He has said that he wants to improve his ability to take big games by the scruff of the neck and change them. He has goal targets that he has set for himself. But somehow, all that is now being seen as a potential liability, some sort of indication that he is putting himself above the team. Don’t we want a player that is ambitious? That tries to change games? That wants to score? What do we want, if not that? One of the biggest complaints I hear in games like yesterday is “Somebody DO something! Move, or something!” Yet Aaron tries to do just that, and he has a “poor” game, because it doesn’t come off.

I know I am really preaching to the choir here. This is a supporting group of people, many of whom told me yesterday not to worry, that he just had an off day. But here’s the thing. I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about us. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. His miraculous exploits last season were a joy to watch. But they won’t continue – at least not like that. He is a marked man now. Teams have found out he is good, he will be given much less room to operate. And he is, by his own admission, still trying to improve his game. I’m confident he will continue scoring us goals. But all this means mistakes will happen. Do we really want to start down the road about how badly he’s played, how he’s struggling for form? Why do we do this? “Uh oh, the old Ramsey is rearing his head. Hope this doesn’t mean last season was a fluke.”  It’s like we are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the bad thing to happen to us. Optimism reigns, until it doesn’t.

Here’s my fear. Suppose it doesn’t change? Suppose the next game is the same as Everton – he does a few things brilliantly, but at the same time lots of things don’t come off? What will we say then? Because the haters and naysayers will start in – they’ve already started I would imagine. Despair that we thought we had a “world-class” player, but of course we can’t have nice things, so look, he’s being shit again. I’m steeling myself for that, and I’m ready to defend him. I hope you are, too.

I have left it a day before musing on the Everton game for the same reason I don’t tweet during matches, I find immediate appraisals tend to be knee jerk reaction and leave you looking like a right miserable Charlie.

The general consensus is that we were poor, but how poor were we really?

People say we were dire in the first half, but were we really ?

For the first 20 minutes there was zero danger that I could see. Ok, we didn’t create much ourselves, but we were away from home and playing ourselves into the game. We did look brighter than them and got into some dangerous forward positions.

Then the goal, against the run of play, had an effect on both Arsenal and Everton.

The goal itself could have been avoided, but what goal cant be? If we are going to blame Ozil for not defending like Tony Adams ,then thats harsh.

We were put on the back foot and Everton buoyed by being ahead when if anything they had been second best. For the next 10 minutes it was all Everton. Understandable? I think so !

The second Everton goal was a catalog of officiating errors. So to go in at half time 2 goals to the bad must have been a bitter pill to swallow.

The fans that had been screaming for Alexis to play in the middle were now screaming for a change.

Arsene made the change at half time (odd for a man who people say never makes tactical changes and always waits until 70 minutes) Giroud’s impact was immediate .He hit a volley that ended up in row Z but was  only inches over the bar.

We know what happened, 2 late goals and a really good point was salvaged.

Everton we were told were great and we were lucky.

Really?

We had 55% possession and the same territorial advantage.

They had 2 shots on target(one of which was a clear offside) we had 3.

We also had more than twice the shots off target.

The reality is we were not that bad. We deserved at least a point.

Giroud once again showed how important to the team he is.

Monreal was good . He provided the assist for the winner and looked solid. Another good player proving detractors wrong.

Carzola, another scapegoat, came on and assisted for the first goal.

We had players coming back into the team and others clearly not fully fit.

We had played an extremely physical European game mid week.

We were playing a very good team away from home.

I’m not sure what people expected, but an easy win should not have been it.

Thanks for reading,  pedantic george  @Blackburngeorge.

Right, now some in house matters.

As you all know we have a very tight door policy in the comments section. Its supportive opinions only.

We set this blog up for like minded people to have a safe haven , away from the misery of other places you might visit. Once in you are free to use any language that pleases you. However, at the risk of being accused of “poacher turned gamekeeper” I will not tolerate  aggressive posting towards others on the blog. Its not on and anyone doing it will be history. No matter who they are or how much I like them.

Elan. I like things to be done with it. I enjoy it when a certain flair, a superfluous decoration lifts an otherwise mundane event. Only this morning as I stumbled, eyes half closed with all too recent sleep, to buy my morning loaf (not, I’m sorry to report, from a ancient rustic baker up at four thirty am grinding the grains and proving the dough in his age old way, but rather from L & F Jones Convenience Store. It is that at least. Convenient, I mean) I passed a woman, disheveled of aspect looking as if she may have spent a cold and uncomfortable night on a park bench or indeed in the doorway of L & F Jones’ small and conveniently situated retail outlet. This is a sartorial effect affected by many of the good folk of Radstock and the surrounded motley of desirable hamlets and disreputable villages so I wasn’t in any way put out by her frankly startling appearance. Instead I threw back the gate through which I had recently passed and, with exaggerated politeness, a beaming smile and – was that the merest hint of a bow? – gestured her through in a manner more commonly associated with those Italian policemen one sees on travel programmes performing an elaborately serene white gloved ballet while precariously positioned at the centre of an apparently terrifying twenty four lane traffic intersection.

It was only as I made my way back clutching my wholemeal sliced that it occurred to me just how delighted the lady had seemed at either the minor kindness I had done her or the extravagant nature with which I had carried it off. I prefer to dwell upon the latter. Sometimes in life my silliness, my exaggeration, my deliberate unnecessary show-boating has brought me nothing but frowning incomprehension, and sadly has occasioned more than a furrowed brow, indeed I have even experienced naked aggression from those creatures (and we have all met them) for whom evolution has remained nothing more than a theory. These people seem to pass through life leaving knuckle trails of discontent as they glower and snarl at perceived threats and challenges to their dreary status quo. They rhyme arty with farty, believe what they read, judge books by their covers and mistake  honesty for  rudeness. I have little time for these folks for whom leaving the oceans was mistake, never mind coming down from the trees. I prefer the spontaneous passing pleasure exhibited by the discomposed and very possibly still inebriated lady as she lurched through a gate held open for her by a mildly insane and extravagantly overweight balding middle aged buffoon in a Yosemite Sam T-shirt. In these brief moments can we sprinkle the glitter of human happiness.

Which is of course why I am such a huge fan of Olivier Giroud. I know there is a whole heap of chatter about which player people would rather see leading the line today from the diminutive and untried Joel Campbell to the non existent striker who we haven’t even bought yet with honourable mentions for just about everyone else in between. However, once Olivier, or Larry if you prefer, has regained his match fitness there is only one man for me. Even in his current out of condition condition he has still managed to prove his worth. Look at the towering, muscular header in the dying moments of the opening fixture, special not only because he won the ball by the application of brutal athletic determination by out jumping some huge defenders but then to have the wit and ability to ensure the ball dropped perfectly to Mathieu Debuchy (who was extremely unlucky not to grab the winner and his first goal for Arsenal) displayed great calm, perfect footballistic instincts.

My love for Larry has nothing to do with injury time knock downs against a tiring team no matter how much I can appreciate their worth. My love for Larry comes into full fruit in moments like that in the game against West Ham on January the twenty third of last year. He stands in the D on the edge of the West Ham area facing away from the goal, receives a square pass from Podolski who lopes into the box. Larry, takes no controlling touch, doesn’t think about making room for a shot, instead, with a deft chopping action of his left foot lifts an instant and perfectly measured pass over three defenders and into the path of the on-rushing Podolski who, despite possessing a shot that could pass through a Soviet T34 Model 1942 medium battle tank and being clean through on goal elects to pass to Santi who is in a position to pull off a much more difficult but wonderfully improvised finish, this is after all the Arsenal way.

Then there was the game against the same opponents in April of this year. Fifty four minutes gone and the scores are level. West Ham have cleared a corner. Vermaelen picks up the ball near the half way line and lofts a huge high one diagonally into the area to where our man Larry is lurking near the apex of the six yard box. Does he control it on his chest – by far the safest, most reliable technique – or does he stick his head on it as you’d expect any centre forward to do? Not a bit of it. In an audacious piece of skill that made me laugh out loud when first I saw it he elects to catch the ball on his left foot as it descends at about a hundred and fifty five mph from the edges of deep space and then crash it into the net with his right. It was quite simply as good as anything you’d expect from Dennis Bergkamp and that tells you everything you need to know. I was going to mention his part in the best team goal ever scored in competitive football on this and any other planet – yes that one against Norwich – but I assumed that particular feast of one touch skill and audacity ought really to go without saying.

These are the things I like about footballers and they are the options instinctively taken by Olivier and other players like him. To do the thing with élan, with flair, grace, deftness and invention. Not to settle for the prosaic, the ordinary. In a world sometimes blighted by the mundane we turn to our showmen to ignite the powder of creative genius so that in those brief explosive moments of joy we are lifted up, we experience the transcendent vicarious thrill that is the holy grail of all football fans. This is why I hope we see our number twelve take his rightful place in the starting line up against Everton this afternoon. Not because we have no other options or I don’t think others can do the job but because if Arsène starts him it means he is ready, he has gained the fitness he lost during the long hot summer and will once again become that vital cog in our free flowing beautifully polished machine.

We have apparently been grinding out results of late, winning and drawing ugly is the mantra du jour and if there is some truth in this (and even I must reluctantly admit this is somewhat the case in the last two matches) then part of the reason for it is our fulcrum, the man who’s one touch passes and flicks and lays off provide the vital fluidity which sets us apart as a footballing side, has lacked his usual sharpness. He huffs and puffs where we need him to glide. Play him I say. Play Larry until he gets back to his imperious best and then you’ll really see something. I’m not a betting man but I’d happily wager that Sanchez and Ramsey will both start scoring freely once the main man is back on his game.

Of course I’m well aware that writing a piece about one particular player on the morning of match day is as good a way as any of guaranteeing that Arsène doesn’t even name him on the substitutes’ bench, but you see the difference between me and all the other bloggers out there is I don’t pretend to know the future. But I do know this, it’ll be brighter with Larry in the team than without him.

[ED]   Thanks for that Stew, It was a real  treat. 

Away games a Everton have been good fun for us football fans in recent years. I’m sure you all remember the details. As the manager said, a good measure for the Arsenal squad.

Before Moysie went to OT in order to pick up his pension he would set his teams up to be less boring than usual at home. They had some decent players like some chap called Arteta.  Even though these were tough games the Arsenal fan could approach the fixture with confidence because until last season Arsenal had been unbeaten in all these entertaining encounters for a while.

Then to the relief of the Evertonian faithful they were gifted a proper football manager in Martinez and last season a stretched Arsenal squad (only through hacking and the resultant injuries) suffered a rare defeat at Goodison Park. As always in such games, as last year, the first goal could be the key. Still, with a stronger bench I’ll be less concerned this year if Arsenal concede first.

We should see what variations the Arsenal can make in their line up . With a crucial Champions League tie in the balance there could be some rotation. It would be nice to hear the away fans serenade  Diaby again.

Key concerns for Arsenal fans will be how the partnership in midfield between Ramsey and Wilshere develops.  It must be a long term programme, because that’s the only justification for not playing Rosicky I can think of !

On a mainstream podcast this week a disingenuous lying uncredible idiot hack tried to compare the two Arsenal players saying one was in decline whilst the other was improving, completely editing out the injury trials that Jack Wilshere has had to endure. Yet Wilshere was out of the game not playing football for almost as long as Ramsey,  the crucial difference being he is a year behind in this cycle. You’d hope that a professional football journalist who’d spent their lives following football would be aware of such things, but i guess they were either making a horrible attack on the Arsenal player which some fans will lap up, or this professional football hack knows sweet FA about football. One or the other. The choice, dear reader, is yours.

There are historical precedents, current ones too when thinking of Arteta, so we can reasonably conclude that as an Arsenal player Wilshere will be the target of such idiotic commentary. No Football brain etc. The Andy Townsend treatment: “Get In!”. Proper stinking bullshit droppings that will be sniffed up by the bitter malcontents and propagated through social media and back into the ground.

It might be just like with the insane and inexplicable abuse we saw directed towards England’s best young wide forward.Least we forget  Walcott’s stats in the PL  two years ago  were as impressive as Alexis’ last year in la Liga, and he was on course for better last year.

 Jack Wilshere needs to play five to ten games in quick succession  for us fans to have some idea of  where he is at.  Even that benchmark would be temporary, because he’ll improve over the year as his constitution improves with more minutes and less injuries, hopefully.  I’m no expert but after a quiet start I thought he grew into the game a little on Tuesday.

I would like to see some rotation for this game, simply because I’d like to see some Rosicky! And to keep some players fresh for Wednesday.

This’ll be a big game for the Flamster. Without Barkley and possibly Lukaku his less subtle tackling technique might  not be as exposed against the runners.  (Please refer to Flamini’s missed challenge on Barkley in the build up to an Everton goal last year).

The new signing for Everton,  Besic, looked quite good in the WC, so even without Barkley who is still very green in my eyes and not worthy of the excessive hype (he’s no Chambers!), the midfield will be fascinating to watch tomorrow.

My favourite midfield from last season when Ozil was not available was the combination of Ramsey, Rosicky and Cazorla. But it is a little risky, and if I wasn’t playing FM I’d probably have to think again.

Chamberlain and Campbell were a little behind in their pre-seasons, but they could also be inked in for more minutes this week.

Finally, I would say that Vincent Tan is no hero of mine, but, it has to be said: well played Cardiff City. The LMA have dug themselves into a nasty little hole.  I’m happy to back up the likes of Sol Campbell, even though he doesn’t always do things in the simplest way. Who can argue against given the evidence before us ?

But fortunately we can ignore all that gunk. Hope you all enjoy the Football.

A guest post from Finsbury.