The other side

Results

Date	Time	C	Opponent	F	A	R	S
22 Sep	7:45 PM	LC	West Bromwich Albion (H)	2	0	Win

I know y'all must have seen this image before, but I think we can all agree that a stunning image it is and one to never get tired of. I particularly like the effect, which I presume you don't get during the day, of the light shining out of Thierry's backside.

See? You don't get observations like that elsewhere, do you?

I feel I must apologise for the lateness of this blog, but something came up at work this week, which led to working through lunch and leaving early. I could have done with having a "proper" lunch break to be honest, my stomach has been doing flip flops since round about 7.30 PM yesterday evening, but perhaps now is not the time to get into that. And anyway, I'm never one to turn down an early finish.

So last night, I met up with a whole heap of regulars from the Arsenal Mania Forum. And we had a cracking time in the Twelve Pins, before heading down the road to the "Goonerdome", © Gabs the Part Time Gooner. Substitute "a whole heap" with James and Jonathan Chong, the "Architect" of Arsenal Mania and that's the sum of the great Mania Meet-Up. We did have a cracking time, well, I know I did anyway. Until the Pear Magners started ripping through my guts. I don't think it's my drink, I have to say. But never mind about that for now.

James and I knew already that we were in the same block, it transpired that we were in the same row. But it wasn't until we took our seats just before kick-off- with me wishing I'd taken the opportunity to visit the loo beforehand - that we realised I was the other side of the gangway from him. And surrounded by kids that made this observer feel old. Very old indeed. And that wasn't taking into account the players on the pitch, the majority of whom weren't even born as I raced around the living room celebrating the Michael Thomas moment in 1989.

One of the truly amazing things about the Carling Cup teams we put out is the seemingly endless generations we can put out who will turn up and make a team of experienced pros look like right chumps. That wasn't the case last night, but then this is essentially a new side being given their head. Of the 11 that took the pitch, only Gibbs, Ramsey, Wilshere and Coquelin featured in the Carling Cup last year. Senderos and Silvestre were given some game time and much as I want to see Kyle Bartley given his head, I think the manager had to play the two at the back that he did.

And Senderos did alright, you know. He might have opened the scoring with two near identical headers. At least they looked identical from my position in Block 5. Sanchez Watt, making his first "senior" start, hit a post and Jack Wilshere went closeish. But to pretend the kids had it all their own way, would be very one eyed and West Bromwich Albion were looking pretty comfortable, forcing Chesney (that is how you spell it, isn't it?) into action on more than one occasion.

In fact I don't think it would be unfair to suggest that it was the sending off of former Arsenal trainee, Jerome Thomas that tipped the game decisively. Now I had the fortune to be not too far from the incident, but anyone who has played football with me will tell you I'm a bit of a ball watcher, so I was following the ball as the crowd around me erupted with Master Jack on the turf.

Not wanting to be left out, I leapt up and shouted my displeasure. As Thomas was duly dispatched in one of the rare decisions that net with universal approval, I turned to the woman behind me - we'd bonded over the shared irritation of having to get up every time someone started a "Stand up if you hate Tottenham" chant, or more accurately, remaining seated (I was pretty much incapicitated and irritated throughout the first half) and putting up with not being to see anything about from what the youth of North London are wearing around their arses these days - and asked her what happened.

Apparently, Mr Thomas had pushed the excellent Wilshere in the face and Wilshere was, was ... well, I don't know what he was doing actually, I'd say he was making the most of it really, but we all know that "honest' English players don't do that kind of thing, don't we?

Anyone that thought we were now going to be in for a cake walk was disappointed and as injury time began, my only thought was that an Arsenal goal was not worth the humiliation of staining my new 501s. And not very likely either. So I buggered off.

James and I met for a quick half-time debrief and hot drinks - yes, hot drinks that's how rough we were both feeling and then it was back for the second half. And though there was some good football beginning to come out, we still didn't look like scoring any time soon and my mind began to drift toward the possibility of extra time that I'd normally lap up, but last night it loomed like John Carpenter's Fog over my consciousness. No, not a good thing. As if Arsène didn't particularly fancy the idea either, Carlos Vela replaced Gilles Sunu, with Mark Randall taking over from Francis Coquelin.

The Mexican Superstar immediately made a difference with his ability to take players on and his willingness to shoot. It was his willingness to shoot that broke the deadlock, as he wriggled some space in the penalty area and got a shot in, which Dean Kiely parried.

Unfortunately for Kiely, his parry went to Sanchez Watt who slid home his first goal for the club. And the mood changed. I was too distracted by my troublesome stomach to take much note of what happened afterwards, though I know we looked much more dangerous than we had. Vela got the goal his cameo deserved when Mark Randall's golf shot of a chip beat the keeper but cannoned off the bar. The West Brom defender under it had what can only be termed as a brain freeze and Vela was able to pause on the goal line, before smashing home the final goal of the evening.

We could have scored more, we didn't. West Brom put together a lovely move which should have ended with a goal, but ended with the ball flying away into the Yellow quad. My evening ended with an emergency return to the Twelve Pins and it wasn't beer - or cider for that matter - on the agenda...

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