Arsenal Need To Have Their Running Boots On For Barcelona Clash

There are people who have been watching Arsenal since they had a shiny, bald baby head which is currently returning to its hairless, albeit far less shiny, state. And although I’m the newest of newbies in comparison with them, I think I can match the grumpiest old gooner in being negative about things. And staying true to form, I was a gloomy, pessimistic bastard when the draw for the Champions League round of 16 was made. Have I seen something for me to change my cantankerous and bad-tempered outlook to the game? Say it quietly, whisper it, take cover behind something solid before silently sniping it, but I believe I have.

A Word On The Wolves Victory…

- Necessary.

- It was a typical Arsenal game at the Emirates in many ways. Opposition keeper going crazy, players getting chances on a plate, players petulantly upending the plate and refusing to take their chances, wankworthy goals, a Bendtner first touch sending the ball to the moon etc.

- And it’s already forgotten. Time to take a look at whether the spankers will become the spankees come Wednesday. Bah, there I go being all frowning storm-clouds again.

But In My Defence…

- If there was any match for which going frowning storm clouds is justified, it’d be against this lot. Last year, they came to London, heads held high on their Blaugranian chariots, and started tiki-taka-ing their way to the most one-sided forty five minutes at the Emirates with Arsenal being on the unfavourable side.

- Xavi completed something like 110% of his passes that night (that means completing all of his passes and beguiling some of our players to misplace theirs with husky-voiced DNA talk) and only reason the score remained non-scandalous from a red and white point of view at half time is because Ibrahimovic had entered into a Scandinavian bet with Nick on who could miss more chances.

- No, I’m not forgetting the fantastic first half Manuel Almunia had, saving shots with every possible body part and more to keep parity at half time. But the sweetness of those first half heroics was tempered by an error inside the first minute of the second half. Barca had their lead, the commentators had their superlatives, Barca had their two goal lead, and I didn’t have any cyanide.

- So when I think of all of the above things, thunder understandably rumbles over my head as I say ‘Please Not Again’.

Woah, What’s That? Could It Be A Sliver Of Sunlight Shining Through…

- I would like to think it is. Despite being juggled for sixty minutes, we showed gumption/character/determination/luck to hiss, spit and claw our way back. Theo came on and changed the game, Cesc scored a penalty so hard it injured his leg, and I’d agree with Wenger when he said that, had the game gone on for ten more minutes, we had more chances of winning it. The Catalan matador and the London street-boxer had finished on terms.

- This above mentioned bloody-mindedness along with other mitigating factors like lesser injuries and a better run of form for us make me smile slightly, before holding my face in pain as it struggles to adjust to something new.

Alex Song Said The Right Thing…

- When he said that the Chelsea game should be a template for the way we perform against Barcelona. That’s exactly how we should play, because that’s exactly how Barcelona usually play.

- They were stunning with the ball at the Emirates last year, but whenever we got the ball was when they really came to life like a hungry bull terrier. They harried, harassed and hounded the Arsenal players without end, just like we did against Chelsea, and as we can see it pays dividends.

To Close Off…

- This is by far the toughest match we’ve played so far this season. That said, we definitely have a better chance this time round if we balance it out between playing to our strengths and sticking to the ball-pressing template that has worked so well for us over the past few weeks.

- As for who will be our most important player, to put it simply, everyone. There can be no passengers for this game, no excess baggage, no luxury players who’ll mooch around with the excuse of having a match-changing ability in them. And the gratifying thing is that all the players seem to know that. The forward line has to have its shooting boots on, the midfield has to have its passing boots on, but above all, the entire team has to have its running boots on.

- We need to press the fuck out of those cunts until they give up and say ‘Fine, have your stupid football’. They’re the bully at the chocolate store who stole our Twix bar and we’re the fat kid. Now the fat kid is normally inferior to the comparatively well-built bully. But if the fat kid wants it enough, if the Twix bar is the only thing in his line of vision, he can beat the bully with his bally fists until he gives in. We have to make him say, ‘Fine,have your stupid chocolate.’

Do We Want It Enough?

Go out there and get your Twix bar, lads. You deserve it, and have many fat kids behind you. Rip out the wrapper and roar, you rip-roaring reds.

Note: This post also appeared on BigFourZa.