Manchester United 3-2 Arsenal
The baffling thing yesterday was not so much that we lost – because lord knows, name a circumstance and Arsenal can magic up a defeat for it – but that we were, and still are, nominally in the hunt for the title. We look as if someone has poured us into the league table but forgot to say â€˜whenâ€™.*
Up against an injury-ravaged team suffering from its own existential crisis, we excelled ourselves by bringing all of our own majestic psychological demons to the party.
And what a party it was. As if it wasnâ€™t bad enough to be dishevelled in defence, inadequate in midfield and largely invisible up front, yesterday we simply did not look like a team that believes it can go all the way or has the stomach for the challenge ahead. We were well beaten and we were beaten too easily.
Congratulations to Marcus Rashford, by the way, who looked hungry and direct and fresh – all the things Arsenal werenâ€™t. In two matches over four days he has scored â…” of the amount of goals Theo Walcott has scored all season. More on Theo later.
The comparison with the 3-0 at home, when we unleashed the dogs of war and blew United away in the blink of an eye, does not bear making. Weâ€™ve been harping on about that, and about City at home and one or two others, but sandwiched between all that has been a lot of stodgy football.
I donâ€™t know whatâ€™s happened to this side, but something is missing. Welbeckâ€™s late, great winner at Leicester was a moment to savour, but it didnâ€™t spark us back into life as weâ€™d hoped it would.
Our form has simply evaporated since Christmas. The best thing you can say is that weâ€™ve hung in there, but the chance to win the most winnable of leagues is withering before our eyes unless we can engineer the kind of turnaround in form that seems entirely beyond us. Unless we can remove the lead boots.
I know itâ€™s far from impossible, but whereâ€™s the belief? Whereâ€™s the bloody-mindedness? Whoâ€™s driving us forward? We weave pretty enough patterns, but the ruthless end product is absent.
You canâ€™t get away with it when so many players are playing within themselves. Gabriel did not look ready to come back into a game like this, Coquelin struggled, Ramsey was ineffective and up front we basically carried two players. Wenger went top-heavy to generate some attacking momentum, but playing Alexis and Theo through these stormclouds of form is not working at all.
At least with Alexis you can say he never gave up: even if nothing else is working for him he tries to make things happen. But Walcott? Iâ€™ve stuck up for Theo many time before, but he was absolutely invisible yesterday. Heâ€™s too often invisible.
Three wins in ten does not tell a lie. With an injury list that has eased over the last month, now was meant to be the time to move up through the gears.
United away is always tough because it’s United away. But we wilted too easily against a far from vintage side. I donâ€™t buy the notion that itâ€™s a physical hangover after being ridden roughshod by Barcelonaâ€™s possession football, because there were five days between the two games and Utd played on Thursday too.
Itâ€™s as much psychological as it is physical – Arsenalâ€™s great Achilles heel, some would say – and Wengerâ€™s got about six days to fix it, via a midweek home game, before our Saturday lunchtime derby delight.
On yesterday’s evidence, I won’t hold my breath. But Arsenal are odd, football is odd and you just never know.
*With the greatest of apologies to P.G.Wodehouse.