Deafening silence from 12th man gives misfiring Gunners the blues

I’M LED to believe Arsene Wenger turned the air blue in the bowels of the Stade de France last Wednesday, during a post-match barney with French coach Raymond Domenech that made le Prof and Pardew seem like bosom buddies.

I can appreciate Arsène’s sense of righteous indignation. Domenech’s decision to give Makelele, Saha and Evra a 45 minute run-out in a meaningless friendly against Greece, while Henry and Gallas were deemed necessary for the entire 90, was hardly designed to promote an “entente cordial” with his compatriot.

Hence Arsène’s ever so slightly sarcastic expression of gratitude to the French national team, in his post-match comments on Saturday. However the lack of freshness of these two crucial French cogs was hardly the principle contributing factor in our increasingly frustrating failure to pick up all three points against Newcastle.

Prior to kick-off I was gabbing with a wide-eyed young Gooner, who was soaking up the new stadium experience for the first time. Doubtless I made the mistake of tempting fate, when I jokingly suggested I hoped he’d picked a 3-0, rather than a 1-1.

When Kieran Dyer scored with just about the Geordies only shot on goal, I turned to commiserate with my new Welsh mate, as it looked very likely we were once again going to have to endure the latter. With these being the only two Premiership results we’ve experienced at our new home so far, there was a certain air of resignation, once Newcastle took the lead, as though a draw was the most we could hope for.

I suppose I could have a pop at Manny Eboué for backing off, when he might’ve pounced to prevent the Toon’s sucker punch. Or perhaps I might bemoan Julio Baptista’s inconspicuous efforts, in his return to fitness after a month long layoff.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been watching the game long enough to know that, ultimately the only thing that truly matters is the ability to put more balls in the back of the net than the opposition. Yet in the two Sunday games, I saw Spurs labouring like a Lada for a point at Ewood Park and Villa struggling in vain to leapfrog us into third, with a vapid Vauxhall Astra-like display at the JJB. In contrast to such instantly forgettable football, this Arsenal side is performing like a Ferrari.

As a result I have to believe such quality entertainment will eventually bear fruit. After all, we’re not going to encounter an inspired Shay Given every week.

Many pundits are suggesting we’ve already blown it on the home front. But while I’ve not suddenly turned into an eternal optimist, I tend to believe there’s still plenty of unexpected twists to come in this title race.

Based on our miserable recent record at the Reebok, most Arsenal fans would’ve settled for four points from our encounters with Newcastle and Bolton. As ever, we’re merely left having to do it the hard way. If we can beat Bolton and if Manchester United and Chelsea were to draw, we’d only have to win our game in hand to put ourselves right back in the title picture.

If there’s one specific area where the Arsenal definitely need to raise their game, it’s the 12th man performance from the terraces. Even at the old Library on the quietest of afternoons, in matches where we were as dominant as Saturday’s encounter, where we laid siege to the opposition’s goal for the last 15 minutes, you could expect even the most passive fans to loosen their vocal chords and muster a roar of encouragement, if only as they began to lose patience and pleaded for some satisfaction.

I’m unsure whether it’s the movement in the crowd, as so many make a premature exit, or the fact that large sections of the stadium are already half-empty, but instead of the deafening noise needed to inspire the Gunners to eke out every last ounce of energy from their weary legs, we now get a wall of embarrassing silence, which carries an air of resignation out on to the pitch.

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