And so it came to pass: Arsenal came, saw, and conquered. The contest, such as it was, and undoubtedly enthralling, was only ever going to have one outcome. My main concern before the game was whether the inevitable footballing procession would become a humiliation, and this is from one of the most optimistic canaries you will find (I’m still trying to find a bookie who will take a bet on us finishing top 3).
From the moment I saw the page 3 splash in the EDP, breathlessly reporting the Gunners’ eventual arrival at Dunstan Hall on Friday, complete with long-range telephoto lens snaps of the superstars, it became apparent that this team of sleek, talented, resilient and supremely calm players would truly present the ultimate test of our desire to remain in the Premiership. Prior to the match, we were unbeaten at Carrow Road since January and Arsenal seemed to be unbeaten at Highbury since the Industrial Revolution, so our chances of an upset this season depended on our ability to persuade the foreign hordes of the continuing impregnability of our Robert’s goal. Something clearly got lost in translation, as they seemed to regard our attempts at opposition as tiresome and clearly rather amusing.
Nigel Worthington picked the team he considered had the best chance of being least bamboozled by the lightning passes and flinty resilience of one of the great teams of the modern era. Safri likely would have started had he been match fit, so Jonsson had to suffice, while Edworthy retained his place at the expense of Helveg, who can’t have expected treatment of this sort when he signed. I only hope the Danish captain doesn’t turn out to be a Laurent Blanc for us, as we can ill afford the luxury: his evident lack of pace may rule him out of more encounters this season, given the appearance of speed demons such as Dennis Rommedahl.
The first three goals were a blur, for me and certainly for the Yellows on the pitch. Arsenal simply passed their way through us, always found the man in space and the finishing was clinical and inevitable. Seasoned commentators usually fall back on the notion that if a striker such as Henry or Owen can score with their head, past burly central defenders, then the contest must indeed have been one-sided. In truth, Henry could have controlled the ball, and scored with his feet, or kept the passing going and let someone else have a pop, but he would have felt it churlish to turn down such inch-perfect service from his acolytes.
3-0 at half-time and what else could Worthington do than appeal to players’ pride and sense of occasion, instructing them no doubt to think about shape and try to grasp whatever opportunities which might come our way. Safri was thrown into the fray and performed well in a midfield three, harrying and snapping when he could get near enough, and spreading the ball to the flanks with aplomb. Huckerby grew in confidence as Arsenal eased back and won a penalty for us at the end of another mesmeric run. He took it well; sweetly struck into the corner, past the efficient Teutonic bulk of Jens Lehmann.
Such was Arsenal’s commanding position that their fans treated this with hilarity, cheering and clapping along with us. This may have stuck some as disrespectful, but possibly they may have seen Dennis Bergkamp warming up and so knew what was coming next. The Dutchman trotted on with complex instructions to put the game beyond reach: give it to me and I’ll score. We should be thankful that Bergkamp has only ever had a few reasons to visit Carrow Road, as his brief sojourns generally have one outcome, and we are never thankful for them. Instead, as on Saturday, we are left to admire and to dream, and to give thanks that there is no-one quite like Arsenal.
Just a quick final word on the referee: cretin. His decisions, while not influencing the final result in terms of winners and losers, certainly contributed to a feeling of injustice and that certain powerful teams, as evidenced by Ferguson’s time grabbing antics on Saturday, get the benefit of the doubt more than others.
In his usual positive way Worthington will take much comfort from the game, and our general attitude and work-ethic, as well as Wenger’s elegant post-match comments. We now need to start picking up the points to reflect the effort, and although White Hart Lane may not be the ideal place given their start to the season, it can’t ever be as difficult again. Can it?