Perfect timing as new Clock End basks in mauling

THE Blackpool fans weren’t going to let the trifling matter of annihilation spoil their big day out.

Bless them, the visitors spent much of the afternoon regaling us with a song about this being “the best trip we’ve ever been on”. But if a 6-0 drubbing is the most they can hope for on the road, it’s going to be one hell of a long season.

Considering the media’s massive David and Goliath build-up to Saturday’s first home encounter, it seemed downright ridiculous that a rules for rules sake red card, threatened to ruin the spectacle after only half an hour.

It was a tall enough task for the Tangerines with 11 on the pitch, but they made a decent enough fist of it, up until then. Unable to use his discretion, Mike Jones only added insult to injury, sending Evatt off, after awarding a dubious penalty for a foul on the edge of the box.

With the visitors’ own ambition being our best source of success, I feared it was doing us no favours for them to be forced to adopt a more conservative approach. Mercifully, despite Ian Holloway’s subsequent best efforts at damage limitation, Blackpool’s immovable object proved no match for the Arsenal’s irresistible force.

As one of those who’ve long been questioning whether Walcott is capable of developing the sort of intuitive football brain needed, no matter how many hours he spends on the training pitch, I revelled in Theo’s emphatic response to his many critics.

I know it was only against 10-man Blackpool, but with Theo having inherited Henry’s no. 14 shirt, even the great man would’ve been proud of the composed way in which Walcott passed home his hat-trick goal, with his weaker foot. I pray this will prove to be the springboard for Walcott to have the sort of influential season we’ve been waiting for.

There have been times in the past when we’ve been guilty of letting lesser opponents off the hook lightly, lacking the killer instinct necessary to make our dominance count. If I wanted to be hypercritical, Saturday’s game should really have resulted in a cricket score. But where previously our pretty passing game has floundered on the number of opposing bodies behind the ball, the most positive aspect was the cutting edge evident against Blackpool and a tempo that they simply couldn’t live with, thereby enabling us to convert possession into countless goal-scoring opportunities.

I almost felt sorry for the Seasiders, as it must’ve been positively soul-destroying at 5-0 down, to see the likes of our fresh-legged World Cup finalists, Fabregas and Van Persie, coming off the bench.

The Seasiders were sardonically singing “Can we play you every week” and as much as I’d love to romp home 6-0 in every game, there won’t be many matches where the Gunners can afford to carry passengers.

After impressing in pre-season, no sooner do terrace songsmiths conjure up a new ditty dedicated to Samir Nasri, than the French midfielder is ruled out for at least a month. Similarly, a more long-term injury for Manny Frimpong must be a devastating blow for a youngster on the verge of hitting the big time. As for the motivation of William Gallas, in signing for the team at the wrong end of the Seven Sisters Road, I wouldn’t be surprised if he acted out of spite, after Arsene failed to make him feel sufficiently wanted for a return to London N5.

Doubtless my Spurs mates will be crowing about gaining revenge for our capture of Sol Campbell. But they might do well to remember Willie’s disruptive tendencies. Hopefully Arsene is intent on addressing our obvious need for a more dominant personality between the posts, but the loss of old war-horses Campbell and Gallas has been tempered by the addition of Koscielny and now Squillaci, to beef up the Gunners defensive ranks.

Meanwhile the mood at our place is buoyant. It might never be Highbury, but Saturday’s visitors were suitably impressed. With the installation of a replica clock, the renaming of the stands (instead of different coloured quadrants), there’s an earnest effort to make the place feel more homely. But in truth, all that’s really required to transform our cavernous concrete arena, into a more comfy pair of slippers is the missing modicum of success.