At least we have Spurs to supply us with laughs

ALL the Euro euphoria last week was very hard to bear, amidst all the media’s “best league in the world” backslapping.

Especially when we’ve grown accustomed in recent times to gorging ourselves at football’s top table, as opposed to finding ourselves with our faces pressed up against the restaurant window, with our tongues positively hanging out at the thought of what might have been, with a Champions League trophy that seems to be there for the taking this season.

It must also be strange for Man Utd fans, to find themselves the beneficiar-ies of the prevailing “Anyone but Chelsea” mood. Yet no matter how much I might despise everything that Abramovich’s toy stands for and despite Utd’s remarkable display against Roma, it’s impossible to ignore the Blues boundless resilience. With their last minute winner in the Mestalla, Chelsea yet again demonstrated an irrepressible desire and spirit that seems to fly in the face of the mercenary nature of the modern game.

At the end of the day, it’s this indefatigability that probably makes the Blues favourites for the big prize. But personally I’m praying either AC Milan or Liverpool can overcome the odds — the insufferable smugness of Man Utd fans, should they end up celebrating silverware (plural), is almost as unendurable as the prospect of a preening Portuguese cockatoo. Mercifully, in the face of such a traumatic climax to the season, of the sort that makes World Cup cricket a welcome relief, at least we can rely on our North London neighbours to provide us with laughs.

That Spurs’ midweek misery against Seville was self-inflicted, with Malbranque’s own goal, and at least it meant that we were able to approach Saturday’s crucial encounter with Bolton, knowing we’d endured the last of the Spurs taunts of “Arsenal watching Eastenders.” The only upside to our worst run of defeats in over a decade is that it at least meant that we went into last weekend’s encounter with plenty to play for.

With the recent installation of the famous old Clock End timepiece, in an eye-catching position, high up on the glass and concrete structure, the approach to the stadium over the South Bridge has now become my favourite aspect of our impressive new arena. I’m led to believe the privileged £500 per match Diamond Club high-rollers have plenty of memorabilia from Highbury, installed in the Gentleman’s Club style environs of their exclusive surroundings, which they can enjoy whilst eating their Michelin starred pre-match grub in the Raymond Blanc restaurant. However for the rest of us plebs, the clock appears to be the only remaining reminder of the grandiose old gaff and its gorgeous Art Deco essence. As such, it seemed to be a metaphor for the club in general, when my West Ham supporting pal pointed out last week that it wasn’t working.

Having once again squandered a hatful of chances on Saturday to put the game beyond Bolton’s reach with a third goal, I’ve no doubt I wasn’t alone in thinking that the final whistle couldn’t come quick enough.

Unlike some of our competitors, we continue to lack the necessary composure to close out games with a single goal lead. I was grabbing for Rona’s hand every time Wanderers banged the ball forward in the final few minutes, convinced a knockdown from Davies or Nolan would cause the panic in our defence that would result in a scrappy equaliser from just about Bolton’s only attempt on goal in the second-half.

But then our inability to put the ball in the back of the net has seen us grow far too familiar with this particular feeling. Above all, I would’ve been gutted for Fabregas if we hadn’t won the game, after he’d scored his first goal in eight months.

It’ll be interesting to see if he can take this confidence into our last few games, as then perhaps those sides who’ve little left to play for will find themselves on the wrong end of the sort of drubbing that we’ve threatened to produce all season. I’d love to know how Le Prof computes his calculations, but according to Arsène the win against Wanderers has given us “an 80% chance of killing off the race for 4th place.” However it would be great if we could end the season on a high, with the sort of results that would justify our faith in Arsène’s vision of entertaining football, or what we’ve all come to know as Wengerball.

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