LIAM MACKEY: Wenger deserves a shot at redemption
The extent to which you regard the club as being in crisis largely depends on whether you’re a fan or a supporter. That crucial distinction was made plain to me by my earliest memory of seeing the Gunners in action on the small screen, that long ago summer’s day when they beat Liverpool in the FA Cup Final to claim the double in 1971.
Largely because Ireland’s Steve Heighway was on the wing, I began the game by supporting Liverpool, a position only hardened by the ugliness of the George Graham goal which cancelled out Heighway’s opener. But when that definitively 1970s footballer, lank-haired, cheeky Charlie George, won it with a screamer — and then lay down on the turf to await the amorous congratulations of his team mates — I instantly switched allegiance to the Gunners (oh, the easiness of life for a 12-year-old whose overarching loyalty, in any event, was to the green and white hoops of Shamrock Rovers).
When the Irish brigade — Brady, Stapleton and O’Leary — fetched up at Highbury, it was easier still to be a fan yet, frankly, not half as easy as it was to entirely abandon the Gunners when, under George Graham, they became the grinders supreme of the English game.
To their credit, Graham’s side achieved something even more momentous than the Terry Neill team which, inspired by Brady, had claimed the FA Cup in the so-called ‘five minute final’ in 1979. Ten years later, it was all about the one minute league, as that famous, last gasp Michael Thomas goal saw Arsenal wrest the title away from Liverpool at Anfield, an occasion which, as the ultimate sensational plot twist, stood alone in the annals of football league history until Sergio Aguero popped up to do the unthinkable for Manchester City last season.
But while, as a neutral, you couldn’t but love the knife-edge drama of that night in 1979, Graham’s was an Arsenal era that was, in the main, more efficient than exhilarating and which, as a consequence, inspired respect – much of it grudging, at that — rather than affection.
Slipping into Highbury under the radar in 1996, the unheralded Arsene Wenger changed all that, launching the French Revolution which would transform the club on and off the pitch. In fairness to Graham, it was he who had bequeathed Wenger the rock of a defence on which the new man proceeded to construct his high church of football – but what a splendid, soaring vision it turned out to be, a grand design which transformed Thierry Henry from an unfulfilled winger into one of the world’s great strikers, made the team for a time literally invincible in England and, but for the bad luck of losing Jens Lehmann to a harsh red card, might even have seen the Gunners out-Barca Barcelona in the Champions League final in Paris in 2006.
I was in the press box in the Stade de France that night — another of those occasions when, as a fan, I might well have been almost as disappointed as the supporters, knowing from 17 minutes in that the prospect of the ultimate beautiful game of European football had been scuppered by events, dear boy.
Seven barren years later, Gooners can only dream of being so close to the glittering prize, especially now that Bayern Munich have taken such a firm grip on their Champions League tie. A youthful Cesc Fabregas was part of Arsenal’s future back in 2006; he’s part of the club’s past now. But if losing him to the greatest club side in the world might have at least softened the blow somewhat, there was no similar consolation in surrendering Robin van Persie to Manchester United, a pathological case of not only weakening your own team but simultaneously strengthening one of your main rivals — or, rather, a team that would be one of your main rivals if Arsenal were showing any signs of real ambition.
And yet I remain a fan of the team and of Wenger because, even though, man for man, Arsenal now conspicuously lack the quality they had in their pomp, they still try to play football as Brian Clough intended it to be played. At times, their shortcomings are almost painful to watch, true, but there is still something noble and even vaguely heroic about an Arsenal side continuing to fly the admittedly tattered flag of Wenger’s beautiful game, as all around them the once faithful bay for the manager’s head.
Incidentally, we all know about the Gunners’ often chaotic defending these days but, just for the record, like, has anyone ever seen a team as good as Bayern Munich so ineptly defend a corner as the German side did for Podolski’s consolation goal on Wednesday night? Luckily for Jupp Heynckes, his players scarcely put a foot wrong otherwise.
Barring Bayern succumbing to a rash of such sloppiness in the second leg, however, it’s pretty obvious at this stage that the trophy cupboard will remain undisturbed at the Emirates for another season. And whispers that the purse-strings will be properly loosened in the summer will count for nought if Arsenal don’t at least rally on the home front between now and then.
For Wenger’s sake, I hope they do. It might be a minority view but the wonders he has performed at Arsenal mean I still think he merits one more shot at redemption. And if that cupboard is still bare in May of 2014, well, as the sage Johnny Logan put it, what’s another year? Easy for a fan to say, of course. Rather harder, I appreciate, for a supporter.
