Arsene’s refusal to buy proving costly

NOT that we needed any reminding (following our traumatic implosion on Tyneside) but football’s a fickle old mistress.

It feels as if it was only yesterday that we were revelling in the return of an almost fully fit squad — which perhaps explained somewhat Le Prof’s reluctance to put his hand in the Arsenal’s deep pockets during the transfer window and his rush to send the likes of Ramsey, Eastmond, Emmanuel-Thomas & Bartley back out on loan.

But then in the blink of an eye we’re back down to the bare bones, deprived of Nasri, Song, Denilson, Vermaelen, Djourou and Fabianski by injury and Diaby by suspension. With our midfield decimated and Koscielny and Squillaci our last two centre-backs still standing, suddenly it’s looking decidedly remiss of Arsene to have resisted the inclination to strengthen our squad, thereby girding the Gunners’ loins for just such an eventuality.

While many footie fans were glued to the hyperbole gushing from Sky Sports News during the dramatic last hour leading up to the transfer deadline last Monday, Arshavin tweeted “I don’t watch transfer TV. I play for Arsenal, there’s no point!”

Arsene must have been feeling quite smug at half-time at St James’ Park after we’d steamrollered an utterly spineless Newcastle side, who’d spent most of the first 45 arguing amongst themselves.

I’m glad that for once I’d managed to arrive early, or else I’d have missed most of the fun. But my sympathy is reserved for those poor Geordies who lost complete faith during the Toon’s first-half capitulation and who appeared to be heading for the exits long before the break. In light of the fact that the Gunners are all too often guilty of failing to make the most of their advantage by putting the opposition to the sword, going into half-time four goals to the good, I couldn’t help but make the fatal mistake of counting unhatched chickens, believing it’d be a rare treat for us to be able to relax, sit back and enjoy a glut of goals, a comfortable three points and even perhaps the confidence boost of a clean sheet.

Yet after the red mist descended and referee Dowd sent Diaby loping off the pitch, within minutes the Toon had pulled two back and a couple of thousand Gooners were all turning to one another with aghast expressions on our faces, as the unlikely possibility dawned on us, of this encounter descending into another “squeaky bum” debacle.

From our far-sighted perspective, both penalties felt like a sympathy vote from Dowd and I’m not convinced he’d have given either decision if the contest had still been goalless. But even then, there remained an air of incredulity at the prospect of us throwing it away completely.

If ever fans and players alike have needed the reassurance of a big galoot coming off the bench, to offer some “stand firm” resolve, it was at St James’. Instead of which we failed to make do with a far too lightweight Tomas Rosicky, who’s in danger of being felled by a stiff breeze and the madcap Manny Eboue!.

By the time Tiote iced the Toon cake with his stunning strike, there was a certain inevitability about the way in which we waved the white flag, in the face of the momentum of the home side’s astonishing comeback, which left us trudging down from the heavens at St James’ Park with our tails firmly between our legs.

But injuries and suspensions aside, so long as there’s no long-term psychological impact from Saturday’s collapse, along with the pleasing confirmation of Cup final tickets on Monday morning, even a pessimist like myself would struggle to deny that the Premier League table looks more promising.