Feeling the pain of profligacy on a blue day at St Andrew’s
Then I guess that much like me, most Gooners were struggling with the dilemma of having to choose between the insufferable smugness of their Spurs mates, should they manage to secure their first silverware in nine years, or the unbearable thought of the Blue scum bagging yet another, albeit trivial tin pot.
Anyway, I’ve been expressing my concerns about our lack of a sufficient ruthless streak for much of the season. It seemed obvious to me our inability to kill teams off might eventually cost us dear and sadly this account finally fell due on Saturday. Never mind Gael Clichy’s last gasp act of hari-kari (or Flamini’s failure to clear our lines), our five-point cushion would’ve still been intact, in spite of this lapse in concentration, if we’d managed to force home our advantage.
