Terrace Talk: Arsenal: A Wembley window to our nervy past

When Aaron Ramsey hit the post in the late stages of Saturday’s FA Cup semi-final, I’m sure I wasn’t the only Gooner wondering if it might be destined not to be our day.

With my terrace tranny tuned into Chelsea beating Man Utd at the Bridge, I had a nightmare vision of our assault on the FA Cup petering out in extra-time and our season suddenly being brought to an impromptu conclusion, with my hands covering my eyes, watching through the cracks in my fingers as Reading progressed to the final in an agonising penalty shoot-out.

With their side’s campaign rapidly fading towards its customary insignificance, I pictured my Spurs mates gleefully wringing every last drop of pleasure, from the unexpected shadenfreude of our shock semi-final demise. But then I’d been fretting all week about the way in which everyone was talking as if our return for the final in May was already a foregone conclusion. Especially after the foreboding omen of Martin Keown’s kid scoring the winning goal, as Reading’s unknown U21 side beat a Gunners’ team including the illustrious likes of Wilshere, Diaby and Gnabry last Monday night.

All such fears seemed well-founded, as we endured a nervy 90 minutes, waiting for our superior quality to tell against the comparatively toothless Royals. But with us having recently looked as if the penny has finally dropped and that “Project Wenger (Mark 8!)” has eventually managed to mature into a multi-faceted, more efficient outfit, sadly on Saturday — Alexis Sanchez aside — it was back to our most dementing ways of old, as we ponderously waited for Reading to be mesmerised by our sideways passing, into parting like the waters of the Red Sea.

Although I must admit I was no less guilty of my mind not being fully focused on the job at hand. I was so caught up capturing the obligatory Wembley “selfies” as I soaked up the atmosphere around the stadium that I only just made it to my seat as the combatants took to the stage, without having given a thought to Wenger’s team selection. I was shocked to discover our best goal scorer had been left on the bench and it wasn’t until some minutes into the match that it dawned on me that Debuchy was out there, playing in his first competitive match in three months.

Kieran Gibbs on the opposite flank perhaps proved to be our weakest link but neither full-back provided the necessary width, or the energy to stretch the opposition. With Reading spending the majority of the match camped in their own half, Steve Clarke’s surprising 4-4-2 wasn’t anywhere near as ambitious as it sounded. Considering they were arriving at Wembley not exactly bristling with confidence, I expected to see Reading overrun in the middle of the park. Alexis apart, we were devoid of the verve required to expose the Royals.

Watching a recording of the game on the box later that night, I was flabbergasted to hear Danny Mills comment that Cazorla was perhaps our best player on the day, as I felt that Santi had taken such a back seat that I forgot he was out there for most of the match! It was only when Giroud made his far more muscular entrance, late on, that we really began to expose the limitations of our lower league opponents. Even then, there was a palpable sense of relief seeing Reading’s strikers “bottle it” when two-on-one right at the death.

On another afternoon, our habitual failure to go for the jugular after taking the lead could’ve proved fatal. We were so lethargic at the start of the second half that I worried we might not be able to grind up through the gears, after Reading breathed life back into this contest with their equaliser. At least this meant that the Royals’ fans got their money’s worth and Sanchez eventually ensured I could rejoice to my Spurs mates that the result was “never in doubt”.

At least Chelsea’s win has taken the wind out of Van Gaal’s sails and will finally extinguish the media’s efforts to ramp up title tease delusions any further. Hopefully this will leave us focused on the primary objective of overcoming our psychological inferiority next Sunday, with the sort of convincing victory that will serve the Gobby One with notice of the long overdue restoration of the “only one team in London” balance of power