Spirit shows in Fab day at Spurs

I DID the aural equivalent of a double take, on hearing the Gooners around me break into several sonorous choruses of “We are top of the league” when we eventually took the lead at White Hart Lane with only 10 minutes left on the clock last Saturday.

After all, it’s been three long years since we last rejoiced to the sound of this highly-satisfying refrain and I’ve grown so accustomed to living in the shadow of the teams above us that, up until this point, it hadn’t even occurred to me that this was a possible outcome of Saturday’s near-perfect proceedings (with the exception of Vidic’s late goal at Goodison).

It tickles me to see the tabloids singing our praises, as if our title credentials were never in doubt, when in truth there’s probably little to choose between us and our immediate rivals and avid Arsenal watchers can attest to my previous assertion, that we remain a good distance from finding top gear.

Some of Wenger’s cogs are already cranked up to full speed, with Fabregas invariably the hub around which the majority of our most scintillating moves evolve. Yet there are others like Van Persie and Rosicky who are still (hopefully?) grinding their way into a groove. None of which mattered on Saturday, as the single significant factor on derby day is the outcome and in truth, we again flattered to deceive. A hair-raising affair for both sets of fans, with end-to-end football that must’ve made for hugely entertaining viewing for the neutrals.

No such luxury for the Spurs manager, who we serenaded with our “sacked in the morning, you’re getting sacked in the morning” melody, while Martin Jol stood cross-armed on the edge of his technical area, like some beleaguered Buddha who’d already been convicted of his crime and was merely awaiting his sentence. !

In the end, the stats confirm that this was an encounter which served to highlight the incredibly narrow margins between success and failure. Considering we’ve not lost a north London derby since the last century, it’s par for the course for Arsenal to completely outplay the enemy. We seemed to dominate possession in the middle of the park, restricting Spurs to several — albeit heart-stopping — counter-attacks, while we teased the Totts with the customary “you’re supposed to be at home”.

However with the likes of Berbatov, Keane and Jenas, the current Lilywhites are blessed with more natural ability.

Consequently, the most pleasing aspect to this performance was the way in which we outdid the home side for determination and commitment. The gangly Abou Diaby hardly appears designed for playing on the flank but I’m happy to forgive the fact he had a bit of a stinker and Van Persie’s fruitless struggle to have any real impact, as the pictures shown on the box of Le Gaffer celebrating our third goal with those who’d been retired to the bench, suggest a selfless desire about this squad, where individual egos are kept in check for the common good.

More evidence of the mood of togetherness was witnessed by those of us who lingered long after the final whistle. In scenes reminiscent of 2004, the players encouraged each other to gather in the centre-circle for a group hug, before joining us for a moment of mutual admiration. I only wish I’d been amongst the lucky bleeders in the lower tier, where I’d have been in with a shout of bagging one of the shirts thrown into the throng.

I only hope that they’ve all recovered for tonight, because judging what I saw of Seville’s 4-1 romp against Recreativo on Sunday, the Spanish side are unlikely to be a pushover. I’m loathe to tempt fate and thereby guarantee a dour, 0-0 draw, but the flowing football favoured by both sides should hold the promise of a some highly entertaining Champions League fare.