It Was Christmas Day In The Workhouse

After an interminably tedious International break, where two years worth of tortuous European qualifiers appear designed merely to eliminate the mighty footballing powers such as Gibraltar, Andorra, Luxembourg and the like, it was marvelous to find myself strolling around to the Man City game on Saturday, positively bristling with anticipation, at the prospect of witnessing the potential of this season’s Arsenal squad.

With Danny Welbeck’s arrival on deadline day in such debatable circumstances, while le Prof was playing peacemaker for the pontiff in Rome, when the majority of Wenger’s peers were seemingly pulling what remains of their hair out, in their efforts to squeeze a signing or two through the door before the transfer window slams shut, this weekend’s game was akin to Christmas morning.

Thousands of eager kiddies rushing down to the glamorous environs of the Arsenal to unwrap our new pressie and discover whether we’ve been gifted the footballing equivalent of a lush new gaming console, praying that le Gaffer wasn’t instead left picking up the last battered striker toy box on the shelves of Woolies (if Woolworths was still in existence!).

While at the same time hoping not to have to endure the Xmas Day equivalent of being told “you’ll have to wait until after lunch to open your gifts”. Most excitingly, we found that an unusually generous Father Arsène had left all our Gooner goodies under the tree, in Saturday’s swank starting XI.

Welbeck’s brace against the Swiss gave us plenty of cause for optimism and he was only the width of the post away from producing the perfect start to his Arsenal career against City. His similar price-tag to Balotelli (albeit perhaps with widely different wage demands?) resulted in much deliberation. While I previously suspected that opposition defenders might find the Italian striker more psychologically and physically intimidating, their contrasting work-ethic was evident from this weekend’s displays and Balotelli’s apparently limited overall contribution brooks no comparison with Welbeck’s selfless graft.

It would’ve been great if we could’ve managed to put one over on Man City, in the absence of Yaya Toure. Lampard is a wily and seemingly fortuitous (!!)addition to Pellegrini’s squad. He and his colleagues were able to stifle us from gaining momentum, with all the niggling (and more blatant!) midfield fouls that broke up our flowing attacks and at the same time, saved his 36-year old legs. But Frank no longer has the energy for his trademark box-to-box efforts and City were deprived of Toure's driving runs.

However, Alexis couldn’t have returned any earlier than Thurs, from his no less arduous midweek exploits for Chile v Haiti in Miami at 1am on Weds. I sincerely hope we don’t end up paying a hefty price, with a lactic-acid levy in Dortmund tomorrow night, but instead of sitting out Saturday’s game, Sanchez impressed yet again with his tireless industry. It was ironic that it was Alexis’ mazy (one man too many!) assault on City’s goal that resulted in the counter-attack, which led to the Sky Blues taking the lead.

From where we sit on the opposite side, it felt as if the Gunners had made the unforgiveable mistake of assuming that the ball was going into touch. Between them, Navas and Aguero made us pay a hefty price for this seemingly indolent presumption. City’s goal knocked all the stuffing out of us, just as we’d begun to acquire the sort of swagger that’s been so sorely lacking in top four clashes of late.

Mercifully Wilshere soon repaired the dent in our confidence with his wonderful equalizer. The chutzpah he demonstrated in selling Clichy a dummy, along with the composure necessary to wait for Hart to commit, before clipping the ball over the keeper with his wrong foot, from such a tight-angle, suggests Jack remains entirely unaffected by all the recent criticism.

Yet where we’ve grown accustomed to the sight of Wilshere sitting on his backside, pleading for restitution, I cannot repeat too often quite how refreshing it is to witness the unflinching determination Sanchez shows, in riding the incessant efforts to thwart his unstinting passion to impose himself.

In one of Özil’s more inept performances to date, the ensuing castigation of our most expensive star wasn’t exactly surprising. Especially when the impressive work-rate of his team mates only highlights Mezut’s languid style and when we are subsequently left enviously watching Fabregas doing exactly the sort of slicing and dicing for Mourinho that’s expected from our man. I can only assume it’s some sort of personal vendetta that’s resulted in the apparent ricket of presenting the title favourites with their principal midfield string puller!

Whether or not Welbeck can do for us what Costa is doing for Chelsea, remains to be seen but with Walcott fast on the mend, I would love to see Mezut prompting all this pace from the middle of the park. Although the gossamer thin depth of the squad, as far as the Gunners’ defensive cover is concerned, remains a massive concern, should the enthralling array of attacking facets in our armoury, begin to fall into place, this holds the promise of a scintillating assault on the Premiership promised land.

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