TERRACE TALK
If we can build on this win, watch us go!
When you consider that for the vast majority of players catching a scent of an FA Cup final appearance might well be a once in a lifetime opportunity, I was somewhat astounded watching the highlights of Saturday’s cup games.
Surely Mark Hughes must’ve been incensed upon seeing the TV pictures showing his Stoke players hardly breaking their necks to try and get back to prevent Blackburn scoring.
Similarly, it must have been infuriating for all those Hammers fans who made the trek up to the Black Country to endure the ignominy of an Irons’ performance that was devoid of any steam, only to hear Allardyce offering feeble “three games in week” fatigue excuses for the way in which they rolled over against the Baggies.
Then as the hors d’ouevres for Sunday’s main course, I found myself watching the live coverage of an unbelievably insipid Midlands derby at a half-empty Villa Park.
All of which seemed to be in such stark contrast to black and white pictures of a “Cup Classics” series that just happened to be showing on Sunday morning when I turned the television on.
It featured a positively electrifying fifth round giant-killing, where lowly fourth division Colchester somehow overcame the venerable “dirty Leeds” side in 1971 (and I suppose thereby ensuring Don Revie’s infamous outfit didn’t stand in the way of the Gunners’ glorious double that season).
For all their renown in the dark arts, I’d forgotten quite what a fabulous side Leeds had in those days, but it was the intensity and fervor of this contest that really struck me.
It brooks absolutely no comparison with the over-hyped, comparatively pallid, modern-day equivalent. With Boro having not been beaten so far this year and after their admirable feats at the Etihad in the last round, I was expecting Aitor Karanka’s team to produce a relatively fierce assault on the quarter-finals
Perhaps beating Man City was Boro’s cup final, or perhaps promotion to the Premier League has now become such an obscenely valuable prize that maintaining a valiant cup run would be mere fools gold, compared to the significance of their midweek Championship match.
Whatever the cause, I’m sure that like most other Gooners, I couldn’t have possibly dreamed of a more comfortable progress into the hat for tonight’s draw.
Despite beating Leicester last Tuesday, this was hardly a convincing victory and our application and intensity was no more earnest than the thoroughly unacceptable attitude witnessed in our dismal derby defeat.
Mercifully we’re now blessed with a squad of sufficient strength in depth that Arsene can ring the changes, without him being accused of disrespecting the FA Cup.
To the contrary, compared to the starting XI in our last two games, we appeared an all-together more formidable proposition from the moment Dean blew the whistle . My fears about Gabriel being thrown in at the deep-end proved completely unfounded, as a Boro side who set their stall out to stifle us, soon seemed to be mesmerised into a stupor, by the speed and intricacy of Premier League football played at it’s most entertaining best. As our mazy patterns made mincemeat of the weight of Boro’s defensive numbers, at times our guests looked more inclined to want to join in the applause than to make a concerted effort to thwart us.
In Mertesacker’s absence, Santi Cazorla seemed to relish his increased responsibility as captain. It helped to have Gibbs and Chambers as such willing outlets on the flanks, enabling Santi to display the full range of his play-spreading passing abilities.
It was most fitting to see all 11 players involved in the build up to our first goal and most satisfying to see Giroud volley home our second, with the accomplished touch of a genuine top drawer goal poacher
But Gooner Valhalla has been the prospect of the potentially peerless combustion possible when Alexis’ energy coalesces with the grace of Ozil and the glimpses we witnessed on Sunday left everyone drooling. Doubtless I’ll be back in pessimistic mode after we take two-steps back again at Selhurst Park on Saturday. But if we can build on the performance against Boro we might have good cause to salivate over a scintillating climax to our season.
Good grief, even smiling Mario’s making a contribution
This must be what a plastic surgery fiasco is like. No matter how wrong it feels, you can’t stop smiling.
I hate it. You know full well the start to the season was gruesome and that’s why we’re back in seventh place in a league where Van Gaal’s United are third (third!), but the way things have gone lately the joys of spring will be a let-down in comparison.
Good grief, even Mario’s making a contribution. It displays football’s pantomime nature when the quality of the Tottenham match is barely mentioned. Exciting football used to be the sexiest part of the shebang, now it’s a guilty quickie compared to the great god Controversy. No wonder Mourinho is the new Pied Piper.
Balotelli scored, but he didn’t smile! That was actually a thing in midweek. Liverpool slowly crept their way to 28 points from the last 13 games. Multiplied up that virtually equals last season’s title-chasing tally.
Yes, we do know that isn’t how it works. Better than you, actually. It shows fans can readjust quickly to almost any given situation and if the early season freeze has been eradicated for now then let’s all celebrate that and hope for better next time around. And there’s still something to fight for this season.
Tottenham began a sequence of tricky fixtures. What it says about us that Palace counts as “tricky” we’ll put to one side for the moment. Needless to say, the first half on Saturday wasn’t a surprise.
Suddenly Can looked human and the defence was back in one mistake/one goal mode. Just what was needed after another week of cup-shock flashbacks. Wimbledon, Bolton, Palace. Each game preceded by fond memories (for the rest of the country) of how Liverpool screwed up that time. Newsflash: football club that’s existed for 123 years may have been beaten in the FA Cup before.
It gets tiresome.
You wonder if the BBC has a cupboard with all of Anfield’s past nemeses in storage, waiting patiently and dustily for such eventualities. At least Pardew had an excuse to be at Selhurst.
In fairness that day at Villa Park in 1990 still rankles. Another ‘double’ thwarted, and a watermark trophy for Floundering Fergie. We’ve all played that “what if?” game before. Pardew’s not that likeable anyway, to put it mildly, and that memory only makes it worse.
Liverpool’s record in that distant outpost of South London isn’t great before people start making a mountain out of ‘that’ 3-3. Much as we hate to admit it, one team scuppered our title chances last season and it wasn’t Palace.
It’s worse when no-marks like Dwight Gayle suddenly turn into Drogba whenever we play them. Add a minnow-friendly ref who wants to ‘square it up’ for the cameras and you’re facing humiliation. Again.
That made the fight-back more satisfying than it should be. Sturridge hadn’t controlled a thing, not even his temper, until that one half-chance came along then bam! 1-1.
Greatness cannot be defined by one gift alone but it’s amazing how many of the game’s superstars do that.
Mignolet and goalkeepers in general must fume at the injustice of it all. The Belgian is getting a lot better lately but he knows another mistake puts his reputation back into the toilet.
Mario’s free-kick led to the winner, and yes he smiled. He was also savvy for the rest of the game, a help not a hindrance. It’s been a decent week for the good-natured goof, triggering speculation about the comeback to overshadow them all. Easy, tiger… I don’t mind Palace, actually. They make a noise at least.
In a week when English football snagged another £5 billion from TV dupes, you know none of it will trickle down into price reductions.
At least let fans have a good time once they’re bankrupted themselves getting in. It wouldn’t take much from the authorities to encourage it.
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