Jeering fans should look at own contribution

I WAS sufficiently infuriated by our most recent failure to find the back of the net on Saturday, to feel like making my frustrations known at the final whistle. Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to join in with the loud chorus of boos, that saw the Gunners departing the field with the sound of our own ‘supporters’ anger ringing in their ears.

Admittedly I was more than a little miffed because I didn’t get the sense our players left absolutely everything out there on the field, during the closing stages of this match. While Frank Lampard was bagging a seemingly undeserved winner in injury time at the Bridge, I was most disappointed we couldn’t drum up the same “do or die” urgency, which in the past would’ve resulted in us laying siege to Fulham’s goal for the last 15 minutes.

Driven by the knowledge that nothing less than a win would suffice, I fondly recall the way in which opposing teams have visibly seemed to wilt in the dying throes, in the face of the force of nature, which was fuelled by the unrelenting drive and determination of previous Arsenal sides.

Whereas nowadays, in a squad seemingly devoid of inspirational leadership figures and with our confidence so brittle that several players seem to lack the bottle to grasp the goal-scoring responsibilities!, it’s the Gunners who’ve got a tendency to wilt.

Much as I love him, Kolo Toure isn’t really my idea of captain material. It might be seen as a little “de trop” in these touchy-feely times but instead of a superstitious soul, who’s inherited the armband by default, I’d much prefer the sort of highly-charged lunatic who’d be headbutting the lockers, before leading his men into battle.

If we’d scored an early goal against Fulham, it would’ve been an entirely different story. But, for example, when our five minute flurry at the start of the second half failed to breach Schwarzer’s goal, the energy levels dropped and one soon got the sense that our players felt as if they were fated for yet another fruitless afternoon.

However on sitting down to endure the low-lights on the box later that night, I was reminded of the wafer thin margins between success and failure.

With the width of a post denying us a goal for the 12th time, it occurred to me that unlike the bore draws against West Ham and Sunderland, the Cottagers’ more ambitious approach had made for an open encounter, in which we did everything but hit the back of the old onion bag.

As a result, as irate as I was about our fourth successive scoreless domestic draw and the prospect of coming to terms with a weekend which might put the complete kibosh on our hopes of Champions League qualification, this definitely wasn’t the sort of scandalously poor display that was deserving of such a din of disapproval at the death.

Moreover I would invite all those Gooners who targeted the team (and our manager) as a means of venting their anger, to look a little closer to home in the hunt for an equally culpable scapegoat.

If I was annoyed by the apparent lack of passion and commitment in the closing stages, I was no less dismayed by the dearth of any atmosphere. Despite it’s library label, many was the afternoon at Highbury when, in appreciation of the significance of the outcome, the North Bank or the Clock End would rise to the occasion, to create that wall of noise which was capable of sucking the ball into the back of the net, as a match reached its climax.

Therefore it was good to spend last night’s trip to the Hawthorns, in the company of those Gooners whose support remains unconditional!