A lot of analysis has been flung around in the leadup for the Greatest Match of Our Time. Barcelona bring with them romance, verve, but most importantly an astronomical benchmark in relation to Arsenal, not to mention the world’s best player in Lionel Messi.

And yet, despite all their abilities, their form, their hype and skill, I cannot shake my fanatical, deluded belief that Arsenal can win this match.

You won’t get any empirical reasons from me today. oday’s blog will be light on analysis, high on polemic, partly because Barcelona’s strengths play to ours, and our weaknesses play to theirs, so it’s all rather circular logic.

But mostly because, win or lose, Arsenal finally have a chance to test themselves, in the Champions League, against the best. It’s what we as fans want, it’s what the neutrals want, and I hope beyond all hopey-hopeness, it’s what the players want.

It’s a chance for Vermaelen to rise up in his ninja-tastic way to keep their rampant attack at bay. It’s a chance for Gael Clichy to show their defence what real wing pace is.

It’s a time for Diaby to show his power in midfield, for Sagna to show rock-like reliability, a time for Bendtner to blunderbus his way through.

With any luck, it will be a time for Cesc Fabregas to show his old club exactly what they’re missing.

And for a fleeting moment, perhaps time for Wenger to vindicate his football ideology, against the ultimate team under his own maxim.

The stadium will be bathed in red and white. The chants will be ringing. Thierry Henry will get a lovefest upon arrival, but for 90 minutes (before a dreaded second-leg at the Nou Camp), we have to back our team, despite their flaws, despite the players some love to hate, despite our lack of big name signings, despite the fact we’re not bankrolled by some exiled African dictator.

This is Arsenal. They are Barcelona.

And we’re going to win.

That is all.

But am I the only one who thinks that talk of ‘revenge’ going to Birmingham is just silly?

What happened to Eduardo two years ago was sickening, the beginning of the end for the season. It was also the match that put the striker’s career in total limbo as he began the long road to a remarkable recovery.

But time heals many wounds (unless you’re a Spurs fan) and with Aaron Ramsey being the more recent victim of a seriously bad tackle, for me the emphasis on Eduardo is as unseemly as it is expected.

This match should be like any other match. To put ‘added significance’ on it is not going to help this team in the slightest. Taylor plies his trade for Watford on loan – the whole foreboding of St Andrews means we’ve got a player stuck in our head who won’t be even playing. For that matter, the odds of Eduardo playing are slim to none, too.

We should be looking at the always dangerous McFadden, the tenacious ex-Gunner Seb Larsson, or the fact they’ve had a wicked spell at home where none of United, Chelsea, Spurs or City have come away with anything more than a single point.

It’s a fortress. And the reason for that is not that man Taylor. It’s because Birmingham are a team that work for each other, play to their strengths and get on with it.

We should too.

I have my trust in Wenger to drill this into the players. He’s done the Eduardo questions already (what else will journalists ask?), but as team talks go, it’s all about keeping up our winning streak and playing on the Blues’ recent sketchy form.

With Vermaelen’s suspension upheld (but not extended), I expect Campbell to be called into duty again alongside Alex Song, who coped well enough against West Ham as a pair.

Denilson should then take defensive midfield duties but expect Abou Diaby to chip in too. Bendtner will continue to hold up the line from the off. While I expect Nasri to keep his place, I would not be surprised to see Walcott (scorer of two goals the last time we played here – now who’s obsessive about previous fixtures?), possibly in place of the lacklustre Arshavin.

The little Russian’s been frustrating at best lately, but if he does start, many of us will be demanding a better performance.

That actually counts for every single one of the players out there. Yet another cup final, yet another lung-bursting effort, boys.

We’re proud of how far you’ve come. But since the horizon is peeking into view, why stop now?

COME ON YOU RED AND WHITES!

In short, a lot of players stepped up to the plate against West Ham – I’ll start with our regular boo-boys Denilson, Almunia and Eboue, who so often are victims of the fans’ ire. Denilson was everywhere against West Ham and his good performance as a shielding midfielder was capped by his opening goal. Eboue, another candidate for ‘Arsenal’s most improved player’ alongside Alex Song, gave the Hammers’ leftback hell as he tormented them with his sneaky dribbles throughout the match.

And Almunia was surely the toast of London with an emphatic penalty save off the usually-assured Diamanti.

Of course, there should never have been a penalty in the first place, when Franco went down easier than a starving call-girl while Vermaelen had eyes for nothing else than the ball. The inept linesman made the call with the referee a full 50 metres behind the ball, who could never have seen the ‘tackle’. Arsenal are appealing the incident, though despite Vermaelen’s innocence, it’s an uneasy course of action with the FA quite capable of labelling the appeal ‘frivolous’, and extending the ban.

But Vermaelen was professionalism personified as he walked off without any protestations (try that out sometime, John Terry), and it set up the platform for a man-of-the-match performance from Alex Song. Forced to deputise as a centreback, Song and Sol Campbell dealt with every West Ham attack comfortably, only letting one chance from Carlton Cole through, who hit the outside of the post.

With 10 men, Arsenal showed plenty of character to not only score a second goal (Fabregas from the penalty spot after Upson handballed), but to play West Ham off the park for the majority of the match. It was a top notch performance, and while Manchester United won their game against a pitiful Liverpool side, it shows how close the run-in is now, with us topping the table for 24 hours.

Chelsea are the first to have blinked, and if we can win all our games (which is pretty much what it will require to win this thing), Manchester United will be under all sorts of pressure to do the same.

Which brings me to the headline of today’s blog…

Manchester United’s next fixture is a tricky trip to a resurgant Bolton side who have demonstrated as much flair in attack as ugly aggression in the tackle. While their loss to Everton the other day will have done them no favours, they remain an uneasy fixture at the Reebok, and it will be interesting to see how the Trotters rock up to that match.

The big news, however, is Wayne Rooney’s niggly knee. He will surely be rested on Saturday and it will be interesting to see if his support act (aka, Manchester United) can cope without 70 per cent of their entire side.

While the absence of one Englishman will make the headlines, the inclusion of another could pose an Arsenal scriptwriter’s dream premise – little Jack Wilshere smacking one in to deny United the points.

Next season, we could see Wilshere sneak around 15 appearances for Arsenal as his burgeoning talent comes through. For now, he’s enjoying a productive loan spell for Bolton and has already gotten off the mark in the goals department.

We’ll have our eyes firmly fixed on how Arsenal handle a daunting trip to Birmingham ourselves.

But in an open plea to our on-loan boy wonder: Do us a favour, Jack!

Thoughts, well-wishes and job offers in the comments.

Lyon vs Bordeaux
Bayern vs Man United
Arsenal vs Barcelona
Inter vs CSKA Moscow

Which means, should we do the unthinkable and beat Barcelona over two legs, we’ll have a semifinal against Inter Milan, with the second leg at the Emirates.

If this doesn’t make our season all the more OMG-Friggin-Awesome, I don’t know what will.

Thoughts on the draw, in the comments.

As the headline suggests, I have a gut feeling we will draw Bayern Munich tonight, though I’m not saying they’re our ideal team to face. Ideally, one of Bordeaux, Lyon or CSKA would be great, but if it is Bayern or Inter (regardless of what the Mourinho brigade will tell you), I still rate our chances.

If it’s Barcelona or Manchester United, find a religion that suits you and start praying.

My predicted draw – teams in red to face each other in the semis, same goes for teams in blue.

[Bayern - Arsenal
Bordeaux-Lyon]
[CSKA Moscow-Manchester United
Barcelona-Inter]

Let’s see how close I get come draw time. For those trying to figure out what time the draw takes place, it’s at 12-noon, Central European time. If you need to do the maths, just google the time in Nyon and work it out from there.

Seems my life can’t move forward until this draw is out of the way. Then I’m ready for a looooooong Saturday before kickoff at West Ham. Come on!

Above is the well-publicised leak (thank you Arseblog) of either a commemorative shirt being released next season, or our actual kit for next season. As feedback goes, people will be clamouring for it if it is the real thing (there are many pages linking to how this is actually a fake), and I for one will be ordering it immediately if it proves to be the real McCoy.

On to the blog, and today I’m dealing with the Felipe Melo spiel – more to the point, how I feel the club should be resorting to transfer rumours in some sick, twisted fantasy of mine.

Arsenal need to publicly tap up Felipe Melo – even if the debate lingers over whether we need to reinforce central midfield.

Since the Patrick Vieira-Real Madrid fiasco of 2002, Arsenal have long appeared a soft touch when it comes to staving off reported interest in the club’s players.

After Vieira left, Spanish papers targeted Thierry Henry, who eventually left for Barcelona (credit to him last night after getting a start against Stuttgart ahead of that idiot, Zlatan). After Thierry, we’ve never heard the end of Cesc-to-Barcelona headlines.

Late this season, rumours have circled around Roma’s pursuit of Gallas, who allegedly also want Eboue and Vermaelen.

I know a lot of Gooners are proud of the way Arsenal conducts itself off the pitch – there’s always been a touch of class about the red and white and Wenger’s behind-closed-doors transfer policy has been nothing but by-the-book.

Surely now, it’s time to fight fire with fire. Time to unsettle a few players, offer suggestive quotes about wanting certain players and get players and backroom staff in on the act. If Wenger feels too strongly about his principles in this regard, people like Cesc, van Persie and Arshavin – players the press will listen to – should surely start blabbering on, mischievously, about Lionel Messi this, De Rossi that, until those bastard clubs decide to shut their collective traps.

We might not need Felipe Melo – but Juventus are just one club who have given us grief over our coveting our players publicly. Is it time Arsenal dished some dirt straight back, despite the Juve chairman’s wishes?

Wishful thinking. But still – would you prefer to see Arsenal fall to the dark side of transfer politics, or keep their clean, classy image they’ve done so well to maintain of late?

Perhaps I’m getting all Colonel SS Hans Landa on you, here, but allow me this simple analogy. Arsenal’s season seems to have been directed by the all powerful God of Cockroaches. You can lob grenades at us, you can declare nuclear war, you can bring down the Iron Curtain on our hopes and dreams, but Arsenal’s grubs will keep on prevailing.

The cockroaches scurry to Old Trafford in August. Through their sheer numbers, they disgust the Manchester girls into squealing about the place. One pint-sized Russian cockroach gets half-stepped on by a Scottish lump, who for labeling’s sake, we’ll call Darren Fletcher.

Yet still this marvel of animalia blasts a shot at girly-girl Ben Foster, who cannot find the tissues in time to pick the ball out of the net. Oily wings flutter, Manchester goes silent, and the pest inspectors are called in.

They resort to drugging one of the more maligned members of the cockroach brigade, who goes by the name of Abou. Poor Abou starts running in circles, and can’t remember which way he’s supposed to head the ball.

Meanwhile, Microwave Wayne does a cruel experiement to the rare albino cockroach, Almunia Manuelus, slicing him up and sending him every which way.

Yet the cockroaches lived on.

November comes. Winter sets in. While mere humans fester in their caves, huddling for warmth, the Arsenal scrape a minimalist existence. Infuriated by the infestation in the town’s north, a band of mercenaries head up from West London to put an end to our invertabrate ways.

Will our children ever forgive us? General Ancelotti makes the big decision that could alter living conditions in London for 60 years: He drops the Drogba on the Emirates.

Desolation. Title-chase? Long gone. Surely now, Arsenal Stadium lies in ruins?

A scratching is heard. On an outcropping of rubble, a small feeler emerges. Then another, then one more. Slowly, the insects emerge again, emitting a faint green glow. If anything, the cockroaches seem better than ever.

Even nuclear fallout could not stop them. From December to January, Arsenal lay waste to all and sundry, and have the choicest bits of breadcrumbs to choose from.

But one day, the cockroaches decide that they’re bored of the all the white bread on offer, and look to Birmingham’s horizon for some softer sour dough. The Villans get word, and man the barracades. Despite their best efforts, Arsenal fail to make the breakthrough, and are held at bay by Aston Villa.

Behind the scenes, the pest shop boys are called into action again.

Again, Wayne brings his trusty microwave and gives the cockroaches a deep, long fry. General Ancelotti drops the Drogba on his own Bridge (such is the levels of desperation), and yet, for all that, Arsenal return unscathed **.

Even some emotionally-unbalanced kid from the north tried to snap off the legs of one cockroach. But if anything, that just made the cockroaches angrier.

Now on a winning streak of five league games, the Arsenal brood is swarming over hapless opponents who can do little more than sit back, man the barricades and stomp, stomp, stomp.

This run of fine form has seen the rapid evolution of individual cockroaches. Shorn of “spinal” players like Fabregas, van Persie, Gallas and Alex Song, the Arsenal swarm has embraced invertebratehood, scraped for its existence and accumulated the three-pointers when it mattered most.

While everybody’s darlings, the Mancs and Chavs of the world, occupy their minds by thinking like hawks (they look in the barn, in the attic, in the cellar…everywhere they would think to hide), but the rats of this world (and by rats, I mean Arsenal cockroaches, not David Bentley) continue to damn well hang in there.

The pint-sized Russian cockroach, still smarting from being stepped on by some Scottish lump, has found slippery ways to weave between stomping defenders. The once-drugged Abou has come out of his stupour and finally knows which way to run.

And out of the ashes, a new frontman has emerged – Nicklas Bendtner. The Great Dane. Surely the Cockiest of them all?

**One cockroach, Denilson, has admittedly not quite been himself since the microwave incident.

Nicklas Bendtner broke Hull hearts (and left us all laughing as a result) as Arsenal waited until the grim end to keep us in the title race and send a despicable team closer to relegation.

The Tigers did well enough today to get a draw against the Arsenal, but as things are, the Gunners fought tooth and nail to snatch a 2-1 win in a difficult encounter that in another season would be two dropped points. We are still in the hunt.

If the first ten minutes were anything to go by, Arsenal were going to run away with this one, as our dominance in possession saw Bendtner feed Arshavin on the left. The little Russian dinked the ball past Mendy on his right, which curled left, to be latched on from Arshavin, who ran left around Mendy, who then dispatched it past poor Boaz Myhill.

Such was the Bergkampy nature of the goal, I was inspired to draw a diagramatic sketch of the little Russian’s goal. I think it’s very accurate and lifelike.

All was not roses and pancakes though, as American tyro Altidore was giving Sagna hell with his burly physique and very, very quick pace. And no sooner had he announced his intent when a Hull midfielder chipped the ball over the defence to find an offside Vennegoor of Hesselink (whose curvy shirt name is hilarious), who had Sol Campbell bumble his way into his back.

Never a penalty as it was offside, but it was more the linesman’s fault than the referee’s. At this point, we’re all spitting chips, but Bullard plants a solid kick past Almunia, who dived the right way but beaten. And no, I won’t be drawing a sketch of that.

Now, I have to spare a moment for Hull’s stupid excuse for a captain, Boateng. A man who spouts off cliched opinion on Sky Sports when injured, here’s a man who can actually look a camera in the eye when off the field, and then try and pry another player’s very eyes out of their sockets. His eye-gouge on Bendtner would have made a South African rugby player blush and while it’s difficult for the ref to spot when looking elsewhere (credit to the linesman, this time), it remains a shameful, shameful piece of play. He was rightly sent off after another foul, and Hull were down to ten men.

Half time came and went, Bullard shot over in the second half, and Hull were looking difficult to break down and dangerous on the attack when Altidore had the ball.

Then Walcott came on, and Hull’s threat, at least, was totally nullified. Theo’s pace meant everyone sat back, and from then on it was all Arsenal.

It was a frustrating time of try, try again, but eventually Denilson smacked a shot at Myhill, who amateurishly palmed it straight back at Bendtner, who kept his cool to hit a last-ditch winner.

A win is a win, and we remain firmly in the mix for a big fat trophy.

Almunia – 7: Is finding form at the right time and becoming more solid like he was in 2007. Came to corners and collected crosses well – did the simple things, which is instilling a modicum of confidence in the defensive line. Nearly got to Bullard’s penalty – one day he’ll save one.
Sagna – 6.5: Seemed a little lost when on the attack while Eboue was on the pitch and Altidore gave him some strife. But shut up shop when Hull had Walcott to worry about.
Campbell – 7: More bad luck than judgement when he ‘fouled’ V of H; his momentum carrying him into the offside striker. Crunching tackle on a Hull player showing perfect timing and eyes for the ball. A solid stop-gap acquisition, and I’m overjoyed to see him back at the club.
Vermaelen – 7: Got forward to assist Denilson at times and defended to his usual standard. Demonstrated a good passing game.
Clichy – 7.5: Has scratched his way back into form. His biggest asset in my mind is his anticipation and pace to intercept passes on his flank. It sets up threatening counters every time, and he’s been doing that a lot lately. He seems like a guy aware of when he’s playing badly, and he’s bucked up his ideas. Full credit to him.
Denilson – 7.5: The regular rubbishers of the young Brazilian may baulk at this, especially considering a number of passes that he gave to the opposition. To which I respond: the number one rule when you lose the ball is to damn well get it back. He did that nearly every time, hassling Hull’s midfield and back line to force possession back. His passing improved late on into the match. Has done his job in Song’s absence.
Nasri – 6: Obviously needs more regular matches with the Cesc-role than what he’s going to get. Never hit the heights he did against Porto, but you know he can be dangerous, even on a bad day. Couldn’t forge anything out of this match and his ideas were read well by the opposition.
Diaby – 7: Physical presence an asset. After feeling his way into the game, started drifting through Hull’s midfield with ease and passed the ball well. One of the most improved players so far this season, but the team needs to figure out a tactic that allows lay-offs for him to shoot from range more.
Eboue – 6: Never got going and Hull had his measure every time. Never faulted for effort, but his application lead to nothing. Replaced by Walcott on 66 minutes.
Arshavin – 8: Scored one of his best goals this season and I’ve still yet to figure how he did it. Kept probing at Hull relentlessly and looks dangerous everytime he runs directly at the angle. Good showing, and he’s chosen this third of the season to start hitting form. Very welcome.
Bendtner – 7.5: How we could have used him when van Persie limped out in October. Holds the line so, so well and gives us consistent shape on the attack. Is getting better at heading out corners from defence too. Has a lot to work on, like bloody-well shooting on sight, but scored a clutch goal (to use an American term), and we’re still in the race thanks to him.
SUBS: Walcott – 7.5: No coincidence that Hull’s most dangerous attacks stopped when Theo came on. His attacks forced the Tigers back and he made some telling cuts into the home-side’s box. Should already have 10 assists this season if the team could just learn to shoot on the first touch.
Eduardo – 6: Came on as Wenger started to throw his dice late on. Didn’t really do that much while he was on, from what I could see.

We’ve won a match that we should have drawn, and that shows there is still a lot left in the ‘Character cabinet’ of this side. Hull have drawn with Chelsea and beaten Man City at home, and we’ve come and beaten a team unbeaten at the KC for a few months. Top marks.

Detractors will say ‘lucky win’, but we were the better side by a margin, despite missing almost a full legion of players. Having said that, we could clearly do with Fabregas’ return, as Nasri, while gifted, hasn’t got a lot of time to rehearse properly for playmaker.

Song’s return will strengthen us considerably, but credit must go to the derided Denilson, whose passing game wasn’t quite right today, but his attitude certainly was. If you lose the ball, get it back. Denilson lost the ball, and like a terrier he yapped straight at their heels and returned possession to his team-mates.

He also showed the value of getting a solid shot away from distance. It should have been comfortably saved by Big Bumbling Boaz, but Badass B52 Bendtner was on hand to slot home and round off a terrible alliteration from yours truly. You make your own luck, and Denilson made that happen.

Diaby could do well to learn from that, as he and van Persie have the best shots from distance in this squad, I reckon. If the team can learn to set him up like Liverpool do to Gerrard, we might have a new goal outlet. Who knows.

Finally, Arshavin has hit form at the right time. I can’t recall which blog I read it in, but if van Persie got us through the first third of the season and Cesc the second, Arshavin could well be the one to carry us over the line. He’s been quiet of late, but his last two matches have been the real deal.

A good win, and a new hobbie for Jammathon, as he thinks of new things to sketch.

How about you sketch me a comment on what you thought of the match? For the silent readers of the blog, I’d love it for you to introduce yourselves to our more vocal readers and join in the fun. Until next time, 3rdGentlemen.

On that fateful day, February 23, a mentally battered Arsenal succumbed late-on to draw 2-2 away at Birmingham. We followed this up with a 1-1 draw at Aston Villa, at home, then after our AC Milan heroics, drew 0-0 with Wigan away, 1-1 with Boro at home, and eventually 1-1 against Liverpool at home.

Compare those run of fixtures (which also had a loss at Chelsea and a win at Bolton), with the ones we have coming up.

The trips to Wigan and Birmingham are coming soon, just as they were in 2008. For Boro at home, sub in Wolves in April. For Aston Villa’s trip to the Emirates, in come West Ham instead. A stern trip to Bolton two years ago can be seen as ferocious decider at White Hart Lane. Or perhaps, even tonight’s game at KC Stadium, against Hull.

A bit of poetic licence used here and there, but hopefully you get the picture. It’s all to reiterate that no fixture in the league is ever easy. Alex Ferguson will make sure to remind us when the mind-games come thick and fast. It’s better to just already think that, and pump up the determination factor.

We’re short of a number of players tonight, with Cesc and Gallas still out, plus Rosicky, Campbell, Sagna suffering niggles. Song sits out with the last game of suspension, too.

If anything, this should hopefully ensure against any complacency – we’re without some of our leading lights, so it’s time to roll up the sleeves, get in there and do the business. If Arshavin plays half as well as he did against Porto, Hull will be weeping, and young Theo must keep mixing it up as he was trying to do mid-week.

Bendtner does not necessarily have to keep his scoring streak going (though it would be nice!) but if he holds the line as well as he has for the past few, we’re in with a shout. Nasri will do the playmaker thing, Diaby box-to-box, and Denilson better have his running shoes on, as there’s ground to cover.

I have full confidence in the improving Clichy and Almunia as well as an in-form Eboue, and Silvestre is a good centreback when used sparingly, as he has been over the course of the season. He should deputise alongside the always-awesome Vermaelen.

So as I said earlier in the piece, history shows that we can really screw up ‘easy’ fixtures. At the business end of the season, there is no such thing, and despite the handbags they’ve been flailing near little old ladies, Hull will be up for this relegation scrap.

Let’s get more of those early goals, force them to come at us, and pepper old Boaz with lots of shots on the counter.

It’s all about efficiency and getting the job done. Are our boys up for it?

So said Jack Torrence to Lloyd the Bartender in The Shining. And so say I to you, my awesome readers, after a long, long absence from writing on Arsenal. Today, I’ve drummed up a very long, but sectioned, biographical account of my watching Arsenal, in Australia (hence the early hours), since my last article.

For your convenience, you can jump to whatever section you’re most interested in – or just read the whole thing. Enjoy!

Out of the Cup
Villans distract to draw
Denilson destroys the faith
Addicted to losing: the Chelsea debacle
Diaa-by!
Porto disastrous, Sunderland adequate
Stoke Part 1: The Ramsey incident
Stoke Part 2: A win of champions
Bendtner’s Burnley Blushes
Porto destroyed
How difficult is our run-in?

Out of the Cup

Wenger’s tossed the Cup, we hear. Sent out his kids, he’s lost the plot, lost the cup, lost all that’s valuable to the fans. Winning breeds winners, they say. Keep the momentum, play the first team.

Of course, everyone conveniently forgets that the first team have struggled at Brittania, so the result may have just been the same (evidence proved by our conceding an early goal in the Ramsey-Shawcross match). More to the point, we had Big-British Sol Campbell in the defence, and even he struggled against the Delap Special.

It was also patently obvious to those following our twisting, turning league campaign that, of all prizes, the most difficult of them was the most attainable. The league remained the focus, and from a personal note, I got over this loss pretty quickly.

Villans distract to draw

The start of the Fixtures from Hell – and a largely uneventful first half passes me by. At half time, I jet off to work, where’re I’m cooped up on the regs desk, away from any televisions. The only one I can see, from an angle, is showing Citeh vs the Mancs.

Frustrating time. Every now and then, I hear the Villa-supporter at work shout and groan, but it’s Arsenal who hit the post twice, so text updates tell me. Have to put up with the smugness of Man Utd supporters who blast Tevez for leaving the club. Go figure.

Denilson destroys the faith

Up the coast with family, and preparing to watch football with my Man U-supporting uncle, Tony. Tony taught me much of what I know about football – everything apart from ‘the Arsenal thing’, which I picked up myself. One of the few I will listen to, as he’s your typical Australian baby boomer who won’t touch internet news, apart from the racing form. As a result, he doesn’t fall into the media’s football hype, and makes his judgement solely on what he sees, based on experience of watching/listening to football since the 1950s, with a sprinkling of Manc bias.

In short, Tony rates Arsenal’s chances. We both think Ancelotti is an overrated manager and he says Arsenal are the biggest threat to his side this season. It’s very satisfying to find a bastion of sanity in a Manc’s body.

But that doesn’t make me any happier when the defence lets Nani squeeze through to lob Almunia, and I’m practically livid when Denilson refuses to follow Rooney’s run. Before Rooney’s made it anywhere near our box, I’m already screaming “follow that bastard!”. No luck. Denilson can’t hear me from London. We’re down and out, and it’s not even half time.

Park makes it 3-0. By now I’m brooding in the corner, letting Tony celebrate – how can you argue? We’re piss poor, a total shambles compared to the awesome team of character we saw not two weeks ago at Bolton. Vermaelen scores a consolation goal – if anything, at least he deserved it – but 3-1 flatters the losing hosts.

Addicted to losing: the Chelsea debacle

Somehow, the Man U loss puts things in a new light. We were supposed to win that one after they fluked a win at Old Trafford in August. Instead, all our frailties are seemingly laid bare, all that faith put in Denilson by the manager looks delusional, all our effort this season is going up in smoke.

I know we are going to lose to Chelsea. I do not expect a win in a million years. Not in the reverse-jinx-I’m-a-believer-Nick-Hornby way. Arsenal will not beat Chelsea. Period.

Yet still I get up at a ghastly hour. Still I put on the kettle, knowing what’s coming. The script is written. Drogba will eat us for breakfast again.

And from predicting it all, there’s a grim, grim satisfaction out of watching us lose. I’ve never felt that before. I feel disgusted with myself, yet vindicated, yet sick, yet turned on. Maybe this is how Myles Palmer lives with himself. It’s not a way I’d want to live.

Send a text message to my Liverpool-supporting mate. Tell him to play us on the break, give our fullbacks hell and treat conceded corners like goal kicks.

Diaa-by!

If only Liverpool had taken my advice. Without Torres (injury) or Gerrard (form), they’re nothing. Arsenal put more effort in than usual. Diaby and Gallas are immense – the latter pulling off a superb last ditch tackle on N’Gog. Cesc shoots at Reina, Rosicky’s fed through but fluffs his lines – one of those days?

Not at all. Rosicky scuttles down the right flank before hitting a brilliant cross for Diaby to head in. I jump out of my chair, arms raised, screaming! YESSSSSSS!!!

It’s not the neighbours who are startled. It’s all my work colleagues, more used to the mundane of rugby league, Aussie Rules, or cricket – who bump coffee off of desks, stop what they’re doing, and scornfully check to see me resume my seat.

Guilty satisfaction remains the best kind.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Porto disastrous, Sunderland adequate

Oh my days. Long have I had a Denilson-moment in my faith in Fabianski. When Arsenal signed the kid, he came with plenty of youtube videos showing some out-of-this-world saves pulled off in the Polish leagues.

We’ve never seen anything close to that since he’s been at Arsenal, and with the rise of Wojciech Szczesny, there may not be a future for him, sadly. A poor, poor, poor handling of a tame Porto cross from the right, fumbled into his own goal, before a disastrous mix-up with Campbell to handle the ball from a backpass. What’s worse? Turning your back to the ball – we all know what happened.

On the bright side, something genuinely stirred inside of me when Campbell headed in our away goal. Watching the big man celebrate is watching someone who genuinely loves the club. Yes, he used to be Spurs’ captain. Yes, he left us on the ropes when he buggered off to Belgium, but now his head seems concerned only with ending Arsenal’s season on a high. Good to have you back, Sol.

The Sunderland game was far more sedate than the Porto anger – Eboue showed some tremendous skill to dominate Sunderland, feeding Bendtner for an easy finish. It was heart-in-mouth stuff for most of the match with our inability to put the game to bed. But we got there in the end, with only our second penalty of the entire season (yes, they’re all out to get us!) scored by Captain Fabtastic.

Stoke Part 1: The Ramsey Incident

Arsenal are going to win the league. And they are going to win it for Aaron Ramsey.

Ryan Shawcross, bless his good nature, jumps into a 50:50 challenge with the young Welshman. Ramsey goes down. The cameras pan to the ref, who is surrounded by visibly distraught Arsenal players – Fabregas is furious, Vermaelen’s head is in his hands, and only one thing comes to mind: Eduardo. All over again.

Yes, Shawcross was going for the ball. But it was easy to see it was always going to be close, so why lunge for it like you’re going to smack that ball out of the stadium? Shawcross got nothing of the ball, and everything of Ramsey’s hard work this season. A young player goes off, an English player turns on the tears when he knows the cameras will be on him after the red, and you know the rest.

I’ll take this moment to wish Ramsey all the best in his recovery, a warning for Shawcross that when (not if) something like this happens again we’ll be all over him for it, and a mighty salute to the Arsenal bloggers who outdid themselves in churning up all the details of this dirty player’s career.

Stoke Part 2: A win of champions

Meanwhile, there was a tough fixture centred on the emotional whirlwind. Arsenal’s first team, this time, succumbed to another bombing throwin which Danny Pugh finished with ease. But where most would have written us off, Cesc Fabregas, the gladiator he is, stepped up to the plate.

In came a delightful cross for Nicklas Bendtner to finish – not at all easy – and we were level. After a 10-minute period after Ramsey’s injury, Arsenal grabbed the game by the scruff of the neck. Stoke were never in it. Yet it took us until the 90th minute to force a penalty (2 in 2 games!), which Fabregas, visibly emotional, stepped up to finish. The world’s best young midfielder then ran onto Rosicky’s parried shot to feed Vermaelen, who scored his EIGHTH goal of the season. Watching him and Sol Campbell celebrate was easily one of the moments of our season.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Bendtner’s Burnley blushes

“One Aaron Ramsey” read RedAction’s huge banner, telling all who watched that this was the new impetus behind Arsenal’s season. Arsenal’s intent was clear early on, but our big Danish striker simply couldn’t hit the target, missing two workable chances to put the home side in front.

It was Samir Nasri’s job to hit a lovely lob to Cesc Fabregas, who nutmegged the keeper to get the ball rolling. Yet Bendtner continued to exasperate, with chance after chance after chance falling his way to finish off the game.

It was a study in Newtonian physics: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. For all Bendtner’s glorious inability to finish, Burnley would counter it with one chance, one goal. A big header sliced Silvestre and Vermaelen apart, and Nugent dinked it over a stranded Almunia. 1-1.

But one man – yet another under amazing pressure from all and sundry – put up his hand to be counted. Little Theo Walcott zipped up the right wing, cut back in (something he must do more often) and unleashed a daisy cutter into the net. Cue pandemonium, cue vindication, cue Theo! Theo! Theo!

Bendtner was taken off after another miss, but the crowd gave him a better send-off than I unwisely would have. How wise that send-off proved to be against Porto. Arshavin danced his way from the right wing into Burnley’s box, and smashed the third goal beyond Jensen with ferocious venom.

Porto destroyed

Late night at the ABC again – the graveyard shift has major plusses and drawbacks – a good dose of responsibility in keeping the website running into the wee hours of the night, but a killer on the social life. It’s the trade-off in journalism, but there’re not that many who will put their health on the line to follow it up with football.

Get home at 1:30am. Straight to bed. Alarm is set for 5:30am, just before kickoff time. Of course, walking home in the dead of night is enough to keep the blood pumping, but pesky fruitbats swooping at you all the way keeps the heart rate up. Toss and turn for half an hour before dozing off.

Alarm sounds, throw phone across the room for the sake of the missus, slink out into the lounge. TV on, kettle on, Arsenal-mode totally on. Huge match – thoughts of PSV a couple of seasons ago keep swimming in my mind, coupled with Porto drawing 2-2 at Old Trafford last year.

Scramble in the box, Arshavin seems to have lost it – Bendtner! YEEEEEEEEEESSS!!!! Neighbours all having heart-attacks like pedestrians besieged by bats! Get in there, B52! Crowd appreciative, but game far from over. One away goal can cock it all up.

Brother stumbles out of his room, clearly not meaning to be up this early. Grumpily starts making coffee. Tells me to stop screaming, gets a reply that clearly doesn’t satisfy him. Three minutes later, screams again as Arshavin lays waste to Fucile and feeds Bendtner’s second. YEEESSSSS!!!!!

Half time. Brother reckons I should go to hell. SBS pundits reckon I should go back to bed. Extreme fatigue makes me momentarily agree, then remember we’re still an away goal from extra time.

Must have dozed off, as Nasri scores a goal I’d struggle to on a playstation. Unbelievable dinking, dribbling, finishing. What a goal. Ballistic skill. Arshavin continues his rampant display by feeding Eboue brilliantly who finishes with goofy style for 4-0. There’s a strange satisfaction out of seeing him score.

Eboue makes a run, gets fouled by the sick-of-life Fucile. Bendtner steps up and scores. Hattrick. More strange satisfaction. It’s great when players respond to over-the-top criticism.

Great win. Pundits are lapping up Bendtner – careful now! It’s a message sent to the big guns, alright. But as always, it remains one game at a time.

Click here to view the embedded video.

How difficult is our run-in?

Hull away, West Ham at home. Birmingham away, Wolves at home. Tottenham and Wigan away, Man City at home. Blackburn away, Fulham at home.

That is a difficult run-in. The only way Arsenal can afford to look at that run of games is “major challenge.” In fact, the only one I see as remotely easy is the very last one – Fulham at home. If that game is going to count, we’d have to still be in the thick of a title race, in which case, rhythm and momentum should carry us over the line.

But Hull, Birmingham, Wigan and Blackburn will scrap for their lives at their place. Hull is one of those games where they are a pretty poor side, but football logic dictates they’ll make it tight. Birmingham have impressed quite a few this year and find themselves in eighth place, and Wigan will be technically efficient and hard-workers as ever. Blackburn we know all about with their Walrus manager.

Tottenham away could be the most daunting North London Derby in living memory. I put them as favourites for that fourth place (happy times, Spurs. Whether you’ll even make it past the qualifying phase is another worry), but to secure that, they’ll need at least a point against us. Perhaps three. It will be blood and thunder, and one with an awful, awful amount to lose.

Similarly, West Ham cannot be written off, even at the Emirates. The big game comes in the form of Manchester City. At this point, I’m actually feeling positive about that game. I think their style of play could fall right into our favour. But they remain a danger because of the calibre of players they have at their disposal. Perhaps not so much with their manager or team-bond, but talent will always remain as talent.

If we do go on and somehow win this league, it will have been by no means easy. We will have beaten the smaller teams (something essential to winning, which we’ve been told every season prior, but conveniently forgotten this year), and shown more consistency than our much-fancied rivals.

But it can only be done one game at a time. What a fascinating season we have left.

Come on, Arsenal!!!

Be sure to let me know your ‘journey’ so far this season, in what has been an absolute roller-coaster ride, in the comments. Be cool! Do it!