We still have faith in Wengervision
Although in saying that, apparently Old Trafford played host to a embarrassingly meagre turn out of only 834 for the quarter-finals of the FA Youth Cup, while over 11,000 watched our youngsters gun down a doughty Cardiff side. Moreover while savouring our first XI’s somewhat fortunate victory against Martin O’Neill’s Villa in the Midlands on Wednesday night, I was absolutely flabbergasted to discover that there was a record crowd of over 38,000 back on my doorstep in London watching the kids beat Man Utd 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final.
With tickets at only £3/£1 (adults/kids) in advance and £10/£5 on the night, admittedly this guaranteed that there were thousands of kids present, who were perhaps enjoying their first trip to our new stadium and an introduction to the Gooner faith. However for a club that’s supposedly on the floor after a disastrous couple of weeks and who’s fans, according to the media, are supposed to be in open revolt, this was a significant show of faith, both in the club and in Arsène Wenger’s vision for the future.
I imagine that it must’ve felt somewhat discomfiting for our North London neighbours that our Youth Cup campaign attracted 5,000 more than the number of Spurs fans that bothered to turn up at White Hart Lane to watch Tottenham progress to the quarter-finals of Europe’s Mickey Mouse competition and only a couple of thousand less than the number of fans watching with me as we took 3 points at Villa.
On route to Birmingham, I’d been whinging that the players only ever seem to throw their shirts into the crowd on the rare occasions when I’m not present, or when I’m at the back of the stand. Obviously I’m deluding myself, but as he headed towards us after the final whistle, I was convinced Denilson was intending to reward me for my humble efforts to make him feel at home, by encouraging him in Portuguese.
If only I was six inches taller, as I’m certain that some lofty Gooner is now walking around in (or offering on eBay!) an Arsenal shirt, which had my name on it (well Denilson’s name on it), as it only just eluded my outstretched fingers in the scramble to retrieve it.
It’s a loyal football fan’s lot to be a naïve romantic but following recent disappointments, I honestly believed our victory at Villa might prove to be a turning point. With good fortune smiling upon us once again, in those few moments of mutual admiration after the final whistle, I thought I sensed a new found “the rot stops here” type resolve in the eyes of the squad.
And yet with Wenger down to the barebones of two strikers with only a solitary Premiership goal between them, I guess we were always going to struggle at Goodison. However the consensus of opinion would suggest that our task wasn’t made any easier by Le Boss’ bizarre choice of a backline where only Gallas was playing in his natural position.
Watching the incredibly incisive counter-attacking of Rooney and Ronaldo on Match of the Day reminded me of what we’ve been missing for much of the season, as we’ve grown all too accustomed to seeing any thrust of the Arsenal’s forward play falter on the edge of the oppositions penalty area, while we plead for someone to take responsibility. You can’t fault Aliadière’s work rate and the faith that’s been shown in him suggests he must be a gifted player, but where Andy Johnson is blessed with the opposite polarity that ensures the ball is constantly attracted to him, Aliadière appears to suffer from the exact opposite.
We can but hope that the price of this lesson in playing to the final whistle does not prove too costly and that it is a lesson learned which might serve us well in future. With such weird weather and Spurs still involved in a cup campaign, some might conclude that the end of world is nigh.
Me, I’m battening down the hatches and waiting for the inevitable winds of change.
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