Gunnertalk: Conversations from an African Pub

I watched last Saturday’s drawn game with Sunderland in the dark confines of an overflowing pub in downtown Johannesburg and was quite ‘priviledged’ to sit-in on an exchange between a cross-section of soccer fans also there for the occasion.



Enjoy the session with me.


Its 6.25pm local time and we are all perched on rickety stools scattered around seven tables. The music is naturally too loud to hear the Skysports commentators of Efan Ekoku and Peter Drury, so some over-enthusiastic types do the honours as the teams file out of the tunnel.
Cameras close up on the faces of Cesc Fabregas, Kieran Richardson and referee Phil Dowd as they lead both teams out onto the well-manicured lawn.
To my right, a beefy, Nigerian-looking, dark bloke pipes up.
“Oh yes, they’ve given them a Man U referee. There’s no way Arsenal can win this game”
To my left, a little, subdued fella, clutching a sweating bottle of transparent something responds: “Why are they wearing yellow? Whenever we don’t wear red, we don’t win!”.
“Don’t start making excuses my man”, beefy Nigerian fires back. “Just accept that you can’t win anyway”.
“What do you mean, making excuses?”, little fella turned around, eyes darting like a squirrel’s. “Who are Sunderland that we have to make excuse for?”
“Oh, so you don’t know they have Gyan now, the Ghanaian? You will be surprised that he will finish you today. Remember Van Persie and Bendtner are not there. And Walcott too. And of course, you guys don’t have a keeper”, beefy Nigerian boasted with glee obviously pleased with himself for this unsolicited team update.
“My friend, so there’s no one in goal for us. Is that what you mean?”
“Ah, Almunia is not a keeper now, you know”.
Little fella clearly was a Gunner. His sparring partner wasn’t a Sunderland supporter, just someone who backed anyone playing against Arsenal.
The match kicks-off and Sunderland launch opening forays into Arsenal area, winning an early corner kick.
“You see, I told you, Arsenal will die today”, beefy Nigerian sang with a wide grin, as if Arsenal was a human being.
Corner kick comes to nothing. Ball is cleared and we momentarily string passes in the middle much to the distaste of beefy Nigerian.
“Everytime one touch, one touch. Wenger thinks this is Champions League where they can play and score as they like”.
No response from little fella who pretends he did not hear. The music from the loudspeakers go up an octave for some reason and a fat lady in jeans mini-skirt brushes past me on her way to the bar. She attracts lots of attention as she jiggles her behind in a sleazy attempt to attract even more attention.
“Give the ball to that man!”, beefy Nigerian yells at the screen as Sunderland break into our half of the pitch. My eyes return to the screen in time to see El Mohammady attempt a pass to “that man”, which was blocked by Song.
“Ah, this Song. Is it Wenger who told him to cut this hairstyle?”, beefy Nigerian asked sheepishly, in reference to Song’s new hyena chops-dyed look.
Little fella, who looks a cross between a Malawian, a South African and a Zimbabwean glances over at his sparring partner and just shakes his head sadly. As if to say, what an irrelevant comment that was.
Suddenly; “GOAL, GOAL, OH, WHAT A GOAL!”
Little fella shot from his stool and did a jiggy-dance on the floor, joined by several apparently undercover Gunners.
“Ah, ah”, a stunned-looking Beefy protested as the replays of Fabregas’ fluke goal were repeated from several angles. “Ah, ah how can that be a goal? It was deflection and the keeper was not in the post and because of that they should count it as a backpass”.
I smiled inwardly at this new, bizarre interpretation of football rules. There was no pacifying Beefy however as Phil Dowd restarted the game.
“This Man U referee…how can he allow that? They are the ones killing football. What kind of goal is that? How can he allow that? Did he not see that the ball hit Fabregas’ hand?”
This latest intelligence stirred a new voice.
“My friend, what do you mean handball? Can’t you see the replay? What handball? You better finish that beer quickly so you can see clearly”. General laughter at this attack on Beefy.
Looking overwhelmed, Beefy stayed subdued for a few minutes as he contemplated this new turn of events. Like a wounded dog, he sat silent on his stool with sad eyes following the action on the big, overhanging screen.
Soon it was halftime and the referee blew the half over.

True or False..."when we don't wear red, we don't win?" 

I went out to make a call and check if my vehicle (a minibus) was still where I left it. Being a very notorious neighbourhood and also being a weekend where the streets were overflowing with drunken revellers, undesirables and what-have-you, one could not be too careful.
I returned to a heated debate between Beefy, little fella and an assortment of other faces. The fat lady in miniskirt who was now being cuddled around the waist down by a hefty, half white, half black bouncer-looking type. The category of people generally known as coloureds here. Coloured man, who apparently had no interest in football was trying to tell all those assembled that he once watched Man United play at Old Trafford and there was no way the Fabregas goal would have stood at the famous Theatre of Dreams if it was scored by an away side.
He was immediately shouted down by a group of excited, clearly Arsenal-supporting sorts who were obviously pleased with the events of the first half.
Fat lady looked from one face to the other, basking in the attention from her new boyfriend as she slurped the liquid contents from the brown bottle in her chunky left hand.
Commercials over on the big screen, the teams came out again to commence hostilities for the second half. Meanwhile I had to stand now since my stool had since been re-possessed while I was out checking my vehicle. Here, you don’t go asking questions.
“This man sef”, in reference to Sunderland coach, Steve Bruce, “when will he bring Gyan now?”, Beefy wondered. “If Gyan was here, by now they would have scored three against that your keeper”, he predicted, directing his tirade at little fella.
“I thought you said we didn’t have a keeper. Why haven’t the others scored since?”, little fella attempted to shut him up.
“Ah wait now, you will see what will happen when Gyan comes. I’m sure they are reserving him for this second half”.
Game resumes and ten minutes later, Song sees red.
“Eh, eh, I told you...that Song”, Beefy celebrated. “He thinks this is African Cup of Nations where you can push people around on the pitch and referee will not say anything. Ah, I trust this referee, he will not take nonsense”.
“What did he do?”, little fella protested, looking around him for support. Something which I momentarily considered offering him as I also seethed at the injustice of the Song sending-off.
Fired up now, beefy offered a steady stream of encouragement to Sunderland players as he saw the chanceof beating ten-man Arsenal.
Then came the 76th minute and the penalty for Arsenal.
Oh God, this referee!”, lamented Beefy. “See how they are killing football in England. What did that guy do now?”. ‘That guy’ being El Mohamady who had brought down Nasri in the box.
“Ah, ah I thought you said he is not like an African referee that allows pushing. So now he has shown that he won’t allow kicking as well”, little fella taunted him as he smiled, obviously pleased with this golden chance to seal the points.
Moments later, the smiled vanished from his face as Rosicky skied his shot into the crowd.
“Ah, I told you. Didn’t I tell you? I said they can’t score wayo penalty”, Beefy danced on his stool as huge moans and invectives were directed at the screen and Rosicky in particular from around inside the pub.
Little fella, clearly taken aback by this unexpected setback, couldn’t muster any form of reply.
Soon, finally, Gyan was introduced and Beefy serenaded his entry.
“Eh, eh, now this is the end of Arsenal. My friend, you will see football now. Classical football, not this thing you people have been doing since. Let them just give the ball to Gyan and your keeper will be in trouble”.
Well, the game drifted to its closing minutes and still ‘trouble’ refused to happen. Gyan himself saw very little of the ball as we warded off attack-after-attack.
“This referee should blow this game off now”, pleaded little fella as the clock showed the 90 minutes were up.
“What do you mean blow this game?”, Beefy reacted sharply as he sought to cling to the fading hope of Sunderland salvaging something. Anything. Now, with the minutes all but gone, he looked disturbed and dispirited.
I for one, was quivering with nerves as the game drifted into extra time. We hadn’t been our scintillating selves but surely now, after all the yeoman’s work done by our defenders, we weren’t going to chuck it all away.
Then in the 95th, new introduction, Boudjewin Zenden crossed into our box. The ball was headed out; someone headed it back in and after and almighty ding-dong, it fell to Bent who smashed it home.
Pandemonium, bedlam broke around me. The noise that erupted swallowed up the strains of Congolese music that had all along provided a backdrop in the pub.
I made my exit, crestfallen.
On my way out, I saw little fella with hands deep in his pockets crossing the busy road. Poor guy. Wish I could say or do something to lift a fellow Gunner; who had single-handedly defied a garrulous opponent and almost made him eat all his words.
Well, it is the lot of the fan. Helpless and forever hostage to the mistakes and failings of players thousands of miles away.
I headed to my vehicle, which thankfully was still standing where I left it.
At least we didn’t lose, I told myself. If only Rosicky had scored that penalty. If only…

Sunderland 1 Arsenal 1

In view of the fact this looked more like two points dropped, it must have been disappointing. But on further perspective, quite a handful of positives emerged from this heated game. All the rage and hype was how Sunderland came back at the death to snatch a so-called “well deserved point”. Considering how much application and effort they put into the game, they probably deserved to take something out of it.
On the other side of the coin, this same fixture last year was a 1-0 defeat to us but at a ground where we have never had much luck, a point was something to savour.
Steve Bruce spoke before the match of how much respect and admiration he had for the work done by Wenger both at Arsenal and in the game. Complimentary as it looks, such comments before a meeting between sides, often helps to lull opponents into a false sense of security.
It looked to have been case as the game kicked off in the Stadium of Light late in the day. The hosts swarmed over us and launched attack after attack. They set out their stall quite early and were intent on denying us all the space, latitude and ‘respect’ that Braga showed during the midweek.
Good enough. Until the 13th minute that is.
All Sunderland’s efforts yielded were cornerkicks after cornerkicks until the 13th minute when a goal of unbelievable dimensions changed the face of the game.
A harmless ball was played back to Anton Ferdinand in the Sunderland defence and all he needed do was to pass it on or hoof it upfield. Instead, he dallied and dallied until at the last minute, he attempted a clearance with Fabregas closing in.
The now-hasty clearance rebounded off Fabregas’ right peg and sailed high into the air, over and above the retreating Simon Mignolet in goal for Sunderland and straight into the hosts’ net. Comical was too inadequate to describe it.
Steve Bruce’s hands-on-the-head pose captured the disbelief around the stadium and as he explained post-match, such a goal only happened in the “old school days kickabouts”. Well, this was the premiership; edition of 2010.
Fabregas must have tweaked his hamstring because ten minutes later, he departed the pitch.
Sunderland continued pressing with huge doses of cornerkicks but we repelled everything and actually upped our game in the second half. Two decent chances fell to Arshavin which he fluffed (customarily?) and one to Chamakh after a fine interchange between Nasri and Rosicky but Mignolet saved at his feet.
Then in the 56th, events turned against us as Song was shown a second caution and sent off. Down to ten men, we still fought on bravely and kept Sunderland at bay. It got even better for us when El Mohammady scythed Nasri in the 72nd and the referee promptly pointed to the spot.
Up stepped Rosicky, wearing the captain’s band in Fabregas’ absence, who skied the ball into Row Z.
It was backs-to-the-wall stuff again for us as Sunderland poured forward in droves to nick something. We were doing a very good job of it though until the 95th minute when a high ball was lifted into the box and fell between Squillaci and Wilshire. Before both, or any of them could respond, up popped Darren Bent to smash the ball past the diving Almunia for their equalizer.
A true test of wills this was, but one I believe we emerged from with heads held high. And a precious point away from home as well.


Turning point...Rosicky blasting away his penalty kick that gave Sunderland hope






 Below are the ratings.
*Almunia (7/10) – Was impressive throughout and commanded his area well despite the onslaught of cornerkicks. Looks to have really upped his game and there seems to be a better understanding now between him and the defence. Stopped everything that came his way until Bent’s late, late show. No fault attached to him for that at all.
* Sagna (7/10) – Did his usual bit and ran his socks off for the team. It was going to be a night of top defending if we were to get anything there and he stepped up to the mark admirably.
* Squillaci (8/10) – Coped very well with all of Sunderland’s onslaught and emerged with his reputation very much intact. The wisdom in his acquisition is quite clear for all to see. His experience proved vital throughout the game as we had to defend for long stretches. Him, along with other members of the defence were my men of the match.
* Koscielny (8/10) – Another hero for us on the night. He enhanced his growing reputation by combining with Squillaci to keep Bent, Wellbeck, Henderson & co at bay. Very assured on the ball and had a great game despite the late equalizer. His performance since the start of the season clearly bodes well for our defensive record this season.
* Clichy (7/10) – Also dealt will all that came his way and kept the dangerous Kieran Richardson very quiet. Couldn’t combine effectively with Arshavin in front of him though but did his bit in the back four. Headed a goalbound ball off the line in the second half.
* Song (6/10) – Was overrun by Sunderland’s five-man midfield in the first half but stepped up his game as the match unfolded. Picked up unnecessary cautions that led to a red card in the 55th minute but should be back for the West Brom this weekend after serving his suspension against Tottenham in the Carling Cup.
* Wilshire (8/10) – After the defence duo of Squillaci and Koscielny, he was our next most-impressive player. Was almost everywhere on the pitch; passing, running and tackling and being tackled. Got a lot of rough treatment from the Sunderland players but was not faved. Always got up, dusted himself and ploughed in again. A true lion heart, this Jack.
* Fabregas (6/10) – He won’t score another goal in his career like the one he got in the13th minute. But kudos to him for persistence. Not afforded time on the ball as he would want. Eventually succumbed to a tight hamstring and departed early. Bad news now is that he may be out for a month.
* Nasri (7/10) – In the circumstances, did quite well. Absent was the time and space enjoyed by us against Braga, nonetheless, he took the game to the Mackems and supported Chamakh upfront. His determination drew the penalty that would have sewn up the three points for us. Sadly, it was not to be.
* Arshavin (5/10) – Poor, poor game by his standards. He seems to have his mind elsewhere half the time. At the end of two very good balls in the first half and another from Song early in the second. Made nothing out of both and was (almost expectedly now) sacrificed for Denilson after the Song red card. Doesn’t appear to be happy about something.
* Chamakh (7/10) – You got to love this guy. Battled bravery all through 90 minutes with complete dedication. He has already shown what a handy purchase he is. Saturday wasn’t one of his good days, but you could never fault him for attitude. Kept running and troubling the Sunderland defence pair of Ferdinand and Titus Bramble, though the lack of support eventually wore him out.






Subs
• Denilson (6/10) – Clearly now, he is seen as a defensive midfielder and sidekick to Song. Came on after the Camerounian was sent off. Tried to stem Sunderland’s forays through the middle and almost nicked a breakaway goal late in the game. Not the first choice though in a starting line-up.
• Rosicky (6/10) - At the centre of the game’s biggest talking point. Had the chance to seal the points with a penalty kick, which he bungled spectacularly for a player of his considerable experience. Heads dropped a bit after that, but for Bent’s late intervention, he would have got away with that costly miss.


Next up, we go to White Hart Lane on Tuesday night as Carling Cup season kicks off. It’s bound to be a tough night ahead and with Wenger traditionally giving the kids and squad members a run out, anything could happen there. Unconfirmed early rumours have it that the Polish sensation Wojciech Szczesny will be preferred to ‘Calamity Lukasz’ in goal. That for me, is positive and hopeful enough.

The Professor and the beanstalker

The ball....plus the world at his feet.

Last Wednesday night against Braga, Jack Wilshire’s football education came to an end.
It’s a pretty bold statement to make about an18 year-old football player who is a ‘nobody’ when you look at what he has achieved so far.
But Wilshire is no ordinary 18 year-old. Since the age of nine when he joined Arsenal from Luton Town, his precocious talent and delicate abilities have been an open secret.
With his virtuoso performance beside Fabregas - another youth prodigy – last Wednesday night, the gloves have finally come off. The cloak thrown around him is surely now cast off.
The most obvious point that emerged from Wednesday night was the fact that Wenger trusts Jack. Five games into the season, Jack has featured in all of those games and started in four. Four starts!
For Wenger, who has spent a lifetime nurturing young talent, the golden rule about players of Jack’s gifts is always finding the right time to let them go. The exact moment to release them to make their way in the world.
It is always a tricky balancing act that could make or mar a player’s career. A time that could undo all the good work and the countless hours put into nurturing them. Football - and sports likewise - is replete with child prodigies who fell victim to their own publicity and ended up on the dunghill of failure.
For Jack though, it looks certain that he has earned Wenger’s confidence. And how well the master must be pleased to have seen his pupil confirm his trust Wednesday night.
Jack turns 19 on January 1, 2011 and by then, he ought to have cemented a spot for himself in the heart of Arsenal’s senior side.
With all the uncertainty and persistent attempts by Barcelona to prise Fabregas back to Catalonia, a new midfield fulcrum is deemed a must-have now at the club. Arsenal and Wenger cannot stand in Fabregas’ way forever. If he helps us to silverware, he will feel morally justified to tell Wenger that his dues have been paid at the club and it was time to move on. Both men know it.
Which is why Wenger has had to blood Jack now and allow him learn from Fabregas.
All season so far and especially on Wednesday night, the fruits of that apprenticeship was obvious for all to see.
Jack has bottle. It’s what sets him apart from his generation. Skill on its own, is never enough to make a player great. Character, discipline and decision-making all have to come into play at some stage. So far, the young man from Hitchin (which happens to also be the birthplace of ex-Arsenal wannabee David Noble), 30minutes from London, seems to have combined all these qualities admirably.
We can talk all day about his obvious ball skills. How he always, always finds space for a pass with his wonderful left foot. How he glides across the pitch with ballet-like ease. How he fights and scraps for the ball despite his lack of inches. We can swoon and talk about that 30 yard pinpoint lob to Fabregas that led to goal No 6 against Braga. Without him applying himself to discipline, all that would go down the drain and be lost forever.
It was commendable how Wenger ignored all the petulant stories about Jack’s involvement in a pub fight weeks ago, to maintain his trust in him. Such tabloid sensationalism is the stock-in-trade of British media which has doomed many a player’s career. Cavalier considerations always override public interest and allied with society’s addiction to scandal, celebrities in sports and other spheres of life are targeted for their news value.
So often, the media thrives on and feeds this assault on people’s lives, thus creating goldfishes with no hiding place.
It’s one major reason why Wenger has been suspicious of English players. He has actually had his fingers burnt by the likes of Jermaine Pennant and David Bentley on the few occasions he has bought English.
It may smack somewhat of dictatorial tendencies on Wenger’s part, but you build a team very much in your own image if you hope to succeed as a manager. It is very well-known how avuncular, taciturn and aloof Wenger is and for him to stamp his authority on his team, he has to recruit players of like character.
All managers like who have succeeded know that basic truth. Ask Mourinho and Ferguson.
Jack, apart from his gifts, has knuckled down to earn his master’s trust. The fact that he is British would probably have made him work even harder at earning that trust. He would have looked at fellow-Englishmen like Theo, Kieran and the unfortunately-stricken Emmanuel Frimpong, to realize what was needed to make the grade in Wenger’s team.
On Wednesday night, we saw the fruits of those years of patience and servitude.
It is our fervent prayer that Jack makes it and goes on to become a legend and a future captain of Arsenal. He has it in him, if you look carefully at what he does.
Which is why an “old fox” like Wenger trusts this teenager named after the fabled beanstalker.

Arsenal 6 Braga 0…….ratings

Once again, the statistics told the story.
Better still, the rag-doll look on the face of Braga’s coach, the youngish Domingos Paciencia told a more graphic story. One of capitulation, despair and defeat. His team had just played an inglorious part in helping Arsenal become the highest scoring team on Matchday One of the Champions League.
On the night when we kicked of our 13th consecutive Champions League campaign, the dominance of all the players in red shone through like a beacon.
The score read six goals against nil but on the evidence of the night, it was far more overwhelming.
We lined up in a flexible 4-2-3-1 formation that saw our midfield filled with ball players. Of all the five midfielders on parade, only Alex Song was saddled with defensive duties.
It was a testament to the abundance of talent available to Arsene Wenger, that he could rest the likes of Rosicky and Abou Diaby and still have all those personnel to call upon in the middle.
So also was it a huge vote of confidence for 18 year-old Jack Wilshire, who was starting his most-important Champions League tie in front of adoring fans.
The game itself was all about Arsenal’s attacking prowess, against the Portuguese’s damage control skills. Almost inevitably, attacking prowess won the day.
Even before the 9th minute penalty tucked away by Fabregas, we had steadily pushed Braga back and taken over their goalmouth. Further strikes by first Arshavin and later Chamakh in the 30th and 34th minutes further underlined our superiority of movement and thought and by the halftime whistle, it was clear Braga had raised the white flag.
It afforded Wenger the luxury of pulling out Chamakh and introducing Carlos Vela, who promptly helped himself to two well-taken goals after Fabregas – one of the smallest players in the world – had headed the fourth.
All the men in red were heroes last night. No one shirked their duties and all excelled in their specific roles. Moreso Mr Wilshire, who shone brighter and brighter as he revelled in a central midfield role beside Fabregas.
It is early days yet both in the season and the Champions League but after five games now, the strength in depth, talent, skill levels and maturity of this side is rising to a crescendo that might portend the arrival of a trophy come May next year.
So far, the signs look pretty good.

Having Fun...Arshavin loves the taste of scoring against Braga

Below are the ratings from last night.
• Almunia (6/10) – David Seaman once commented that one of the often-overlooked attributes of a good goalie is awareness and adapting to long stretches of inactivity during a game. Last night was one of those instances for Manuel. He was forced into a passive onlooker role as we dominated and swarmed allover Braga, but twice in the second half when called to action, he responded admirably well to ward off danger – both from the right flank and the boot of Julio Cesar.
• Koscielny (7/10) – Clearly, the new boy has warmed his way into our hearts, so early in his Arsenal career. Not that he had much to do, but the few times he was asked questions by the Braga duo of Cesar and Lima, he dealt with them professionally. Once in the 73rd minute, he battled bravely for a loose ball and took it up to the centre circle amidst a sea of Braga players. Obviously a top player and a great acquisition by Wenger.
• Squillaci (7/10) – A smooth operator indeed. Most of the time you don’t even realize he is there. But ever-present he is certainly. Very surefooted all night and complimented Koscielny one hundred percent. There might be some wisdom in Wenger’s unstated policy of buying French if in a defensive crisis.
• Sagna (7/10) – No surprises here as regards the tough-tackling Frenchman. He was his usual hard-as-nails self. Tackling, harrying attackers and bombing forward at the slightest chance. Picked up a soft caution in the second half.
• Clichy (7/10) – Came back into the team after being rested against Bolton over the weekend. Followed very much in Sagna’s footsteps, except that he does most of his job with the left foot. Very steady on the left flank.
• Song (8/10) – Can he really get better? Looks like a frightening prospect but also very real. He's maturing in leaps and bounds and is a real joy to watch. Snuffed whatever little threat Braga carried through the middle and never allowed their playmakers, Rodriguez and ex-Newcastle player, Hugo Viana to settle. The fact that Viana was later substituted was due largely to Song’s success in containing him. Was himself substituted for Denilson deep in the second half.
• Nasri (6/10) - Returned from injury for his second game this season. Part of a five-man midfield with license to drift to the right. He did well and pulled the Braga defence allover the pitch. Linked well with Fabregas and Wilshire in the middle.
• Fabregas (8/10) – Opened his account for the season with two sweet goals here. Tucked away the first from the spot after Chamakh had been pulled down in the 9th. Got his second for the night and his 50th Arsenal goal with a header off a fine ball from Arshavin. Almost got another goal, which was cleared off the line by Moises. Laid on an assist for Vela for the final goal of the night. All in all, he looked happy and at peace with the world. Looked like the old Cesc we’ve always known.
• Wilshire (8/10) – His best game so far for Arsenal this season. Was inspirational in the middle of the park and displayed ability way beyond his tender 18years. Ran the show alongside Fabregas and accounted for two assists – one for Chamakh and threaded a 35 yarder that Fabregas brought under control before feeding Vela for the final goal. Breathtaking vision indeed.
• Arshavin (7/10) – The Russian seems to be exorcising the demons of past poor performances gradually. Took his goal very well in the 30th minute and almost got a second which ricocheted off the bar in the second half. Got himself two assists though to underline a very positive night. Withdrawn later for Eboue.
• Chamakh (7/10) – The Moroccan enhanced his growing reputation here tonight. Scored a very good goal after sublime footwork from Wilshire in the 34th minute and was responsible for the first goal, after he won a penalty. His overall contribution though is much more than scoring, which is what makes him a very, value-added acquisition to the team. Later made way for Vela and got a standing ovation form the appreciative crowd.

Subs
• Vela (8/10) – For someone who spent a little over 16minutes on the park, he gets so high a rating on account of his two cleverly-taken goals. First was a brilliant through ball amidst a pair of Braga defenders' legs from Arshavin, which Vela ran onto and chipped almost-effortlessly beyond the keeper. The second was a knock down from Fabregas which the Mexican smartly placed in the keeper’s near post. He never seems to do much except place the ball in the net. If that is all he does however, Bendtner may find himself looking in from the outside whenever he returns from injury.
• Denilson (5/10) – Replaced Song in the DM role. Didn’t do anything wrong for the 20-odd minutes he was on the pitch. Steady as the game drifted to a grandstand finale.
• Eboue (5/10) – Came in for Arshavin as Wenger shuffled things around ahead of our trip to Sunderland on Saturday. Took up the right wing position and helped trouble the Braga defence.


All in all, yet another memorable European night and puts us in fearsome mood ahead of the Sunderland game on Saturday night.

Arsenal 4 Bolton 1…….ratings

After this game on Saturday, Arsene Wenger gloatingly declared that beating first Blackburn and next Bolton would have been beyond his side in the past. Considering the physicality of both opponents, he deemed his side to have matured this season with the way they dispatched the two teams near-effortlessly.

It is early days yet, but Wenger might have a point there.
Blackburn and Bolton belong to the same school of hard knock-playing sides like the Stoke Citys and Wolverhampton Wanderers of this world. They all might be unfashionable but they have in common, hard-grafting, English managers who put their trust in players of average skills but tutored to intimidate opponents. And in Arsenal, they all share the collective, flawed wisdom that the Gunners are a soft touch.
Such thinking has helped them try to knock us off our stride in the past and all have succeeded to a certain degree in this abominable task.
Last Saturday was one of those days as Bolton turned up at the Emirates.
Ten minutes into the game, they left their calling card when the belligerent Kevin Davies launched two-footed into Jack Wilshire. He got a talking-to as well as a yellow card for his troubles but being Bolton, the tone of the game was set.
We went ahead in the 28th minute as new-kid-on-the-block and birthday boy, Laurent Koscielny bundled home a Wilshire cross after Fabregas helped the ball along its way. It was to be the first of four assists by Fabregas on the afternoon.
By and by, an eventful game unfolded that saw a red card to new England debutant, Gary Cahill; swinging the match decisively the Gunners’ way as we ran out 4-1 winners.
After Manchester United’s injury-time capitulation to Everton at Goodison Park in the earlier kick-off, this was a golden chance to put daylight between us and them; and how gratefully we took it.

I can fly..Notice the similar pair of boots worn by Koscielny and mate, Squillaci (behind)

Below are the ratings for the game:
• Almunia (6/10) – Solid and professional throughout all the 90 minutes. Organised all before him well and dealt with everything that came his way. Not at fault for the Bolton goal as he was left exposed by Koscielny’s mistake. Largely untroubled in the second half as Bolton failed to come forward, preferring instead to concentrate on damage-limitation.
• Koscielny (7/10) – He really looks like he has adjusted to the pace of the premiership. Covers the ground very well and struck a good understanding at the back with new partner Squillaci. The way he strode forward to score the opener would have made the absent Thomas Vermaelen very proud. Muddied things a bit by his tame back header that opened the door for Bolton’s equaliser . All in all, he is looking every inch an impressive presence at the back.
• Squillaci (7/10) – He deserves high praise for the calm, composure and experience he brought to the back line. His debut passed almost effortlessly because he hardly put a foot wrong and dealt with all the high balls and intimidation manufactured by the likes of Davies and Elmander. Slotted in well for TV and looks like another shrewd piece of business by Wenger.
• Gibbs (6/10) – Deputised admirably for Clichy. It was his debut game of the season and kudos to Wenger for giving the young Englishman a taste of action. Kieran looks to have come a long way with his sense of positional play, tackling, awareness and distribution. Picked up a caution but had a very comfortable outing as he kept the Bolton wingers quiet and subdued.
• Eboue (6/10) – Started brightly with overlapping runs and good interchanges with the forward men. Lost his way sort of in the second half after some rough treatment from the Bolton defence. Substituted later in the second half. The Ivorien still looks a handy squad player though.
• Song (8/10) – Fabregas aside, I will tick him off as my MVP. Did all that was asked of him in the DM position and snuffed out all signs of danger with increasing authority and confidence. Looking at him now, I still shake my head how far he has come. Got the crucial third goal that settled the tie and triggered the oles from the home crowd as the result was put beyond doubt. He is gradually becoming a legend for us. Going a bit further, he is becoming the best thing since Patrick Vieira. Some accolade, ay?
• Wilshire (5/10) – Started the game and ignited the first goal with a very incisive lob over the Bolton defence. He looked fired up as if to show Bolton what they missed by handing him back to Arsenal after last season’s loan move there. Looked jaded and faded from the game in the second period before being substituted.
• Fabregas (8/10) – His best game so far this season. He laid on all the assists for all our four goals and was his mercurial old self (if you could call a 22 year-old that!). After all the unnecessary distraction created by the Barcelona attempts to sign him, he looks to have put all that behind him and gotten on with the business. My pick of his balls was the beauty he lifted into the path of Vela for the fourth goal. Sheer class!
• Rosicky (7/10) – Another one who had a good afternoon. Seems to have found his lost mojo from somewhere. His vision was apparent as he dissected Bolton’s defence thrice in the first half with incisive balls to Arshavin and Chamakh. Tired though as the game wore on.
• Arshavin (6/10) – Should have opened the scoring as early as the 5th minute when Rosicky’s through ball put him one-on-one with the Bolton goalie, Adam Bogdan. He was to get two more bites at the cherry in the same half all of which he failed to bury. Looks a bit isolated on the left where he often opts to take on defenders with little success.
• Chamakh (7/10) – The big Moroccan held the line well and never stops trying. Got his reward early in the second period with a fine headed goal off a Fabregas ball from the corner flag. He is quite capable in the air and even when things aren’t going his way, he always persists. Good work on the afternoon.


Subs
• Diaby (4/10) – Came in for Wilshire but almost immediately got himself kicked on the shin by Bolton’s Robinson. Never recovered from the knock as he hobbled around and eventually was forced off after only 12minutes.
• Denilson (5/10) – Another one making his debut this season. Came on for the injured Diaby and slotted in beside Song. Apart from an attempted shot on goal that was blocked, nothing spectacular from the little Brazilian who looked bulkier than before.
• Vela (6/10) – The Mexican came on to replace Chamakh and opened his account for the season with a sublime goal after being fed by Fabregas. Great things are expected of him this season and with the absence of regulars Van Persie and Bendtner, he has started on a very positive note indeed.
Next up is Braga from Portugal as we launch our latest foray into the Champions League, Wednesday night.

Time For Something Different, Robin

For three seasons past now, Robin Van Persie has cheated us all with long-term vanishing acts.
No fault of his, I must add.
Rather, it has been due to the never-ending injury sagas he unfortunately always succumbs to – season after season.
After reading all the newsreel and reports accompanying his latest affliction and coming away with the assessment that we will not see him again until mid-October, a niggling feeling is beginning to overcome me.
Will we ever see the full talents of this wonderfully gifted player? Personally, I’m beginning to doubt it.
He is 27 now. An age where players blossom and hit their best years. He just played in a hugely-successful Dutch side that went all the way to World Cup finals. If not for some defeatist tactics by their paranoid coach, Van Persie would probably be a World Cup winner now.
Four seasons ago, Arsenal were hanging onto a 1-0 lead against Charlton Athletic at The Valley. Suddenly, a ball was floated chest high from the midfield and without breaking stride, it fell to Van Persie, who took it first time; smashing it into the Charlton net with both feet off the ground, in a vintage display of jaw-dropping skill. It was described as a "goal of a lifetime" by Wenger and was later picked as Goal of the Month by the BBC.
In our last season at Highbury, the same Van Persie struck a beauty of a freekick from the left side of the box in a Carling Cup semifinal, second leg game against Wigan. Unfortunately, our defence later allowed Jason Roberts to score a damaging equalizer that knocked us out of the competition for that year.

Van Persie hitting the "goal of a lifetime" against Charlton in Sept., 2006

Two seasons ago in pouring rain, with Arsenal trailing 1-0 to a dogged Everton at Goodison Park, Abou Diaby floated a 40 yard ball over and above the Everton defence in the 80th minute. Approaching from the left flank, Van Persie met the ball in mid-air and connected with his left boot; burying it sweetly past a bewildered , who along with his defenders, never saw the Dutchman.
It is such moments of sheer brilliance and uncoachable skill that makes Van Persie a very special athlete and a delight to watch. His repertoire brings back memories of another supremely gifted Dutchman, the affectionate “there’s only one Dennis Bergkamp”.
Van Persie has shown how capable he is of moments like these. Of gravity-defying exhibitions of his awesome talent.
If only, he can stay fit.
At his age now, it’s beginning to look like his will be a career of truncated potential. Just like yet another gifted Dutchman – a certain Marco Van Basten.
Doses and doses of intensive medication; Litres and litres of injections can surely not leave anyone as good as new. It’s a bit like the case of professional boxers who develop brain damage after years of receiving punishing blows to the head. Or like rugby players who develop 'cauliflowers' in their ears and eventually go deaf after years of being tackled with so much violence.
Yet another Dutchman, interestingly, could have the solution to Van Persie’s endless visits to the treatment table. He is none other than one-time Arsenal bête noire, Ruud Van Nistelrooy.
He suffered a cruciate ligament injury in the knee while at PSV Eindhoven in the season before he joined Manchester United in 2002. On recovery after about ten months out, he remodeled his game to avoid tackles that could cripple him, by playing as a fox-in-the-box. In all his time at Manchester, onto Real Madrid and now at Hamburg, the Dutchman scored almost all his tonnes of goals within the 18-yard box.
Not for him are elaborate displays of skill or one-on-ones that could attract tenacious tackles; the sort that targets knees, ankles and parts of the leg vulnerable to long-term healing.
It is an example worth copying. Hard as it may be for someone of Van Persie’s array of gifts, it would be wise to err on the side of caution in this case.
He has shunned all advances and temptations to repeatedly pledge his future to Arsenal. He seems to mean it as well. Those pledges will however count for nothing if we only see him in fleeting snatches.
A consequence of his repeated absences has been the loss of his deadball abilities. When, if I may ask, did Van Persie last score a freekick for us? Can’t recollect.
Get well Robin and stay well.

Will He Ever Grow Up?

“With the great new players we’ve got we have a wonderful chance to make history. But it’s all about results. If we can win ten games in a row, people will class Manchester City as bigger than Arsenal.”



Here we go again.

Like him or hate him, Emmanuel Adebayor now of Manchester City; formerly of Arsenal FC simply cannot get over the fact that he is no more ambitious than a rain cloud.
Which is why he keeps making noises like the one above in a vain attempt at making Arsenal regret selling him.
One wonders what is there to regret when he is not even considered important enough to start games at his new club.
It all smacks of bitterness of course. Bitterness about the way he was bundled out of the club at a point when most players would have been hitting their peak and writing their names in indelible ink, into a club’s history.
We are all familiar with his story.
From a journeyman striker in Monaco who had spearheaded tiny Togo to an epochal maiden World Cup appearance in 2006, Adebayor was brought to England by Arsene Wenger and built-up to lead Arsenal’s attack with Thierry Henry.
He stuck to the script initially before unexpected fame and fortune got the better of him and we ended up with arguably the most-hated player in the club’s history.
From a high of scoring the winner against Manchester United at Old Trafford in September 2007, to the headbutting incident with Nicklas Bendtner at White Hart Lane in January 2008, the rise and fall of the Togolian had gone full circle.
In between, we witnessed the full repertoire of this flawed genius. Brilliant and willing to run like a dog one day; disinterested and petulant the next.
At the risk of incurring wrath towards his own person, Wenger eventually sold him to Manchester City last summer for a yet-unconfirmed £25million; tripling his value and making him one of the best pieces of business the club ever conducted.
Still very fresh in our collective memories was his stamp on Robin Van Persie’s face last October which earned him a four match ban. Not counting the crazy, hair-brained running the length of the pitch to celebrate his goal against us and taunt the same fans who sang his name for three years.
Adebayor is the archetypal modern-day creation of a global, marketing system that rewards mediocre talent and makes the modern sportsman believe he is the most important person on the face of the earth; a Messiah who can walk on water; the centre of the world’s gravity.
Which is why one year later, he still cannot understand how Arsenal could have dropped him on the floor so effortlessly and life still goes on.

Hellraiser in blue....Adebayor doing his thing for Manchester City

Just a summer before he was sold, he was touting his conversations with Adriano Galliani, AC Milan supremo as a prelude to some sort of move to the Milan side. So hot and in-demand he believed he was, that he openly flaunted his availability and willingness to lace boots for a “big club”. Bigger of course, he meant, than the “little” Arsenal that saved him from oblivion at Monaco and brought him to the limelight of the English premiership.
Eventually after ruffling as many feathers as possible, the Milan move never materialized but it succeeded in helping him squeeze out more money from Arsenal in form of a new contract.
Such statements like above, uttered over the weekend obviously show that the Togolian has learnt little, and changed hardly. Often, as somethings supposedly change, they remain very much the same.
He managed 13 goals in all competitions for Manchester City last season and was hardly a factor as they chased an ill-fated Champions League spot.
Clearly, he has now been usurped by the likes of Carlos Tevez, James Milner and Spanish new-boy David Silva. Frustrated last month, he issued a veiled come-and-get-me plea to invisible suitors, declaring that:

“If you’re in a team and you’re not playing, and there is a team that comes in for me, then I will definitely be on my way out because I’m a footballer and I love playing”.

Warned and ordered to fight for his place by the mercenary Manchester City hierarchy, he has since been cowed into a grudging submission. The sweet smell of the over £100,000 weekly wages he gets will very obviously not be forthcoming anywhere else.
Nonetheless, he keeps living in the past. Keeps looking regretfully at the hallowed chance he threw away at Arsenal. Keeps trying to re-open old wounds by making silly and uncouth comments against Arsenal.
The simple fact that his old mentor, Wenger has maintained a dignified silence despite the Togolian's verbal provocations, speaks volumes in itself.
Sadly for our old boy, some lessons never sink in - that in life, you learn from past failings and simply move on.