Ending barren run by default won’t worry Gooners

HOPEFULLY by the time you read this missive, I’ll be breakfasting on Las Ramblas, basking in the warm glow, after the Gunners have made a complete mockery of all those who believed we didn’t have a hope in hell of surviving beyond our outing to Camp Nou.

Alternatively, I’ll be drowning my sorrows, dreading the threat of our season ending up in tatters, after Saturday’s trip to Old Trafford.

Personally, I’m never happier than when everyone else is writing off the Arsenal as this has often proved the inspiration for some of our finest hours.

Having endured Messi’s four-goal mauling last season, it appears some of the travelling faithful are unwilling to face the risk of further ignominy in the Catalan capital. Such trepidation is understandable, with Song joining Walcott on the missing list.

We may have relished the brief respite of Orient’s reality-check against our reserves in midweek. But if the abject frustration of our Carling Cup catastrophe and Saturday’s failure to capitalise on a golden opportunity to turn up the heat in the title race, end up being combined with the disenchantment of a Champions League exit, it’s hard to envisage Arsene’s young squad having the bottle to instantly bounce back against Fergie’s more mature mob.

However this is football at the highest level where winners have an insatiable desire for success and limitless reserves of adrenaline. They thrive on the relentless barrage of big games and the leaden-footed losers are left bellyaching about lactic acid build-up, fatigued by the demands of 90 minutes every three or four days.

Sadly last Saturday’s scoreless draw was a long way from demonstrating the Gunners’ coming of age. We all turned up for the game in eager anticipation of a performance that might confirm the Arsenal’s imminent capacity to cast off the shroud of our perennial nearly-men mantle.

I won’t condone the crowd venting their ire at our midfield duo so vocally because I believe supporters are duty-bound to stay faithful. But I was no less vexed than anyone else.

In contrast to the anguish felt on the terraces, in Diaby’s languid demeanour and Denilson’s hapless football, these two players seem to epitomise the Gunners’ lack of appreciation (with a couple of exceptions) of the urgent need to kick down the door left ajar by Man Utd’s defeat at the Bridge and Anfield.

Sure if justice had prevailed (and if the officials had got the big decisions correct) the pressure would’ve resulted in a game-winning goal. But for once I agree with Hansen’s suggestion that the key to success in a championship run is “to start quickly”.

Instead of Sunderland harassing us to play at a high tempo, we seemed content to wait for the game to come to us, until we began to run out of time and Wenger rang the changes.

We seem to have completely forgotten the art of starting home games with the sort of intensity that’s enabled us to steamroll lesser opposition.

Still one of the good things about living on Arsenal’s doorstep, is that you are never short of a Gooner or two to commiserate with.

When I went to the local shops on Saturday evening, you could positively sense the anti-climactic atmosphere amidst the exchange of pleasantries that passed for the licking of red and white wounds.

Despite subsequent Gooner glee over United’s capitulation at Anfield, in some respects it was that much more maddening. Nevertheless we’ve gained a point and with their Mayday trip to North London, our destiny remains in our own hands.

Perhaps the return of Ramsey or Vermaelen will provide the necessary momentum. But unless our competitors continue to fall over their own feet we’re about to end our barren run by default. We badly need to discover some consistent form before risking the increased heartache at stake when one truly dares to believe.