Back to earth with a bump
I was expecting the entire gamut of emotions over the coming weeks, but we Gooners have encountered the full spectrum in the space of only four days. After the ecstasy of the coming of age of our stadium, Koscielny and Wilshere in Wednesday’s breathtaking display, I must’ve still been high on the euphoria when I dug my motorbike out for Sunday’s brief, but decidedly brisk hop from London N5 to E10.
Although it’s symbolic that Leyton is located just on the other side of Hackney Marshes; since in football terms the ramshackle mishmash of a dilapidated secondhand stand, functional modern flats, office space and seating that is Barry Hearn’s Brisbane Road fiefdom, is world’s away from the glamorous environs of the Emirates.
With many of the 1,600 Gooners meeting up on Sunday to collect precious Wembley and Barcelona tickets, it was perhaps inevitable that we’d embrace East London’s carnival atmosphere.
It was hardly an inspiring start to the day to hear we were playing for the right to face Man Utd away. But if the hosts needed any added motivation, they had the huge carrot of a trip to Old Trafford and the shot in the arm of such a massive financial inducement.
Few of us expected an easy ride against Orient, after witnessing Crawley Town’s heroics. Not to mention the Toffees putting one over on Ancelotti’s overpaid mercenaries and having my faith restored in karma, by Cashley’s penalty miss. However where events at Old Trafford left you wondering which was the Premiership outfit, compared to the intensity of our contest with the Catalan giants, Sunday’s game was a complete and utter role reversal, with the Arsenal producing a record number of passes, as Leyton lulled us all into a false sense of security.
Much like Messi and company, we were guilty of taking our foot off the pedal after scoring first. Instead of demonstrating the sort of killer instinct, which might’ve put the tie to bed, we were content to sit back and pass the ball amongst ourselves, expecting the opposition to tire from chasing the game and to present us with a gift-wrapped second goal, when we should’ve really forced the issue.
I can fully appreciate Arsène’s decision to give a much-deserved breather to many of the team. Albeit that Alex Song’s inclusion on Sunday was baffling, considering he’d be first on my team sheet for an agricultural encounter with Stoke tonight. But where I was delighted with the inclusion of Ignasi Miquel, our hungry young Catalan centre-back, I’m not sure why he bothered with Bendtner. You can make excuses for the Dane, with him being played out of position on the flank, but for my money he’s far too wrapped up in his own ego, to ever produce the sort of commitment and desire necessary in cup football.
Myself I was already pondering the fate of our reserves against Fergie’s fledglings when the O’s unknown Frenchman brought me back down to earth with a bump. In truth, having seen how much it means to the lowly East Londoners, I’d almost be happy for the Orient, if it wasn’t for them forcing us into yet another unnecessary replay.
Still after the week of wonderful football, it would be positively churlish of me to moan about more of the same!
