Will these fluffy poodles we breed ever show their teeth?

WE bumped into Frank McLintock outside our turnstile at Wembley on Sunday and I was hoping this might be a good omen. I jokingly suggested to our double winning skipper that “I wouldn’t mind having you in the middle of the park this afternoon”.

Little did I realise how prophetic this would prove to be. Instead of a steely leader of McLintock’s calibre, we had the far too lightweight likes of Thomas Rosicky farting around at the Gunners’ fulcrum.

I don’t really want to point the finger at our Czech midfielder. After all, it’s not his fault he’s not Cesc Fabregas. But without Fabregas’ finesse and with Rosicky’s frustrating tendency to hit the deck at the slightest touch, he certainly wouldn’t be my first choice to play at the heart of this immature Arsenal side, when we are crying out for the sort of effusive stand-firm leader who’s capable of galvanising the young Gunners.