Arsenal 3-3 Liverpool
After last nightâ€™s game, Wenger joined Kelly Cates and Gary Neville on the grass at the Emirates (maybe the camera-on-a-string had run out of batteries) to chew the fat on a match that had it all. I use the word â€˜allâ€™ as itâ€™s sufficiently ambiguous and can be taken to mean â€˜zero defendingâ€™ or â€˜a baffling lack of understanding of what to doâ€™, but I urge you to let your imagination run wild with your own take on what â€˜allâ€™ might infer in the context of last night.
He described how our dismal first half performance was â€˜psychologicalâ€™; a hangover from the Utd game (to which as Arseblog says, reasonably and with an admirable lack of beating around the bush, â€œGet over itâ€).
He then went on to lament how we were â€œa little bit naive defensivelyâ€ to let the third goal in, at which point my eyes rolled round my head like a waltzer, I scratched my beard contemplatively and wondered to myself: where have I heard all this before?
Arsenal in a nutshell
What you have in that one interview is the essence of every Arsenal side since about 2006. Beset, on and off, by psychological issues and serially incapable of taking a grip on a glorious situation.
Add to that the sheer incoherence of what we were doing before that four-minute splurge, and youâ€™ve got it all. Liverpool have a game plan that involves breaking at pace and countering lethally. It really works, though we can be thankful that their defence gives ours a run for its money when it comes to individual errors.
Our game plan these days is harder to ascertain. What were we trying to do? Bizarrely, it looked to all intents and purposes that for the first 25 minutes we were firing long balls over the Liverpool midfield. We couldnâ€™t keep hold of the ball for love nor money and how we went in at half time only one down I do not know.
Back from the dead
Then came their second, and it seemed to be all over. Step up our saviour – Mr D. Fensive-Error, who conspired to draw us level (though props to Sanchez for his determination and to Xhaka for firing off that howitzer), before Ozil applied the icing on the least likely cake by chipping it in, via the ground – though itâ€™s so good that even now I canâ€™t quite work out how he did it – to give us the lead.
It was a turnaround in fortune that would have had Lazarus nodding in approval, but did it last? Did it Sheringham.
So 3-3 it ended, a game that couldnâ€™t have been more late-era Wengerâ€™s Arsenal if it stood up, put on a long tubular coat and sang a sea shanty called â€˜Too Much in the Wanting Zoneâ€™.
Exciting? It was, from beneath my duvet (pre-Christmas flu – joy to the world). For all its faults, and they were manifold, there were goals everywhere, in short bursts and against the run of play, and it was a febrile, Friday-night, Christmas-fuelled atmosphere that reminds you how the Emirates can be when it wants to.
Take it at face level, and it was the kind of game that has the Premier Leagueâ€™s marketing men drooling. No doubt to have been in the crowd during those four minutes will stick in the mind for a very long time. Damn you, Christmas flu.
Just donâ€™t look too objectively at where we are, where weâ€™re going and what that performance says about the general state of things at the club, and weâ€™ll all be fine 🙂
Merry Christmas to you all. Iâ€™m off for a stiff lozenge.