Oh so low as Guns fall silent

AFTER the utterly devastating denouement of the Gunners’ season over the past few weeks, I’m afraid that like many of my fellow Gooners, I am all footballed out.

Even after 40 years of watching the Arsenal I still struggle to reconcile the ecstatic highs and gut-wrenching lows of last Tuesday’s Champions League exit. I guess that’s what makes this amazing sport such an addictive enigma. The euphoric peak of the scintillating perfection of Theo Walcott’s run from the edge of his own penalty area, to put what we all assumed would be the winner, on a plate for Adebayor, lifted all of us present to such a head-bursting, oxygen-deprived altitude that the subsequent thud was almost physical, as poor Kolo inadvertently pushed us off this lofty perch, by committing hari kari at the other end of the pitch only moments later.

I’ve some sympathy for poor Theo. As had been the case a few weeks prior against Birmingham, the boy wonder had come up with the goods, when we most needed them, with the sort of game-changing, sublime skills that deserved to decide a Champions League quarter-final. But instead of being the hero and grabbing all the headlines, just as at St Andrews, subsequent events ensured that Walcott’s contribution will only be remembered as a mere footnote.

However as much as I struggle to comprehend how we can score twice away from home in the Champions League and still fail to win, in the cold light of day, Walcott’s wonderful assist would’ve only helped to mask the inadequacies witnessed in the latter stages of this match and on Sunday at Old Trafford, where recent performances have been a microcosm of this season’s incredibly entertaining, but ultimately unsuccessful campaign.

In seasons past we’ve grown accustomed to dips in form around October/November time, but Arsène’s scientific management of his team’s fitness levels has invariably seen us come on strong both at the tail end of matches and at the business end of the season. But sadly the deficiencies of our far too shallow squad have eventually taken their toll.

Perhaps it’s related to the fact that so many Scousers have Irish roots, but I’ve always felt a stronger affinity for fans from either side of Stanley Park, than anywhere else in Britain. If we were going to get knocked out by a domestic rival, then Liverpool was the least distasteful of the three options, as they are at least proper fans.

Amongst all the finger pointing, at Senderos for losing Hyypia (although Almunia must share some blame for panicking and putting the ball into touch in the build up) and at Kolo for allowing Babel to get goalside, I can’t help but wonder if our fans behind the goal when Hleb hit the deck were as animated as those at Anfield, might they have swayed the Dutch ref sufficiently to produce a similar outcome?

There was some consolation in the thought that the Scousers might have a better chance of beating Chelsea than us, but we were nonetheless so demoralised that few of us fancied Sunday’s trip to Old Trafford. In the absence of Flamini holding the fort in midfield, I had nightmare images of the floodgates opening up and the Gunners drowning in some serious, long-term psychological damage.

As it turned out, I was proud to be a Gooner on Sunday. In my eyes the lads did themselves great credit by playing United off the park. It seemed to me that even old Red Nose himself was impressed by the reaction of his rival’s young squad. After all his dreams of a successful campaign had been left in tatters, it was perhaps not so surprising that a devastated Wenger was left clutching at straws, with his implications of a “world’s against us” conspiracy. I guess graciousness in defeat is a trait which befits those who are more comfortable with getting beat!

When you consider that the Arsenal’s squad cost a third of the £120 million paid for United’s and you compare a subs bench comprising the likes of Bendtner and Hoyte with Tevez and Anderson, in truth Wenger has achieved a remarkable feat, by competing with the likes of Unite and Chelsea, with a team that’s recognised as playing the most attractive brand of football on the planet, on a fraction of his rivals’ budget.

There will be plenty of time for a post-mortem but I’m convinced that there isn’t too much wrong with this Arsenal squad that a world-class goalie, proper leadership qualities and a bit more depth, wouldn’t cure.