Gautam_bhatia
Active Member
Yesterday night was epic in every sense of the word.
First things first, though. BBC can shove it. Soccernet can shove it. And Alen Hansen, Lou Macari and Graeme Sounness can collectively shove it.
I remember back in December 2004, the mid-point of the premier league season approaching, and Arsenal five points off the pace. We had to play leaders Chelsea at Highbury in a crunch match. The game before that, Patrick Vieira got his fifth yellow card of the season for a horrendous dive against Liverpool. Gilberto was suffering from a long-term injury, Edu was injured and Ray Parlour had been sold. That left us painfully short of numbers in the centre of the park, and the mantle fell upon two chaps nobody had every heard of before the season. A seventeen year old called Cesc Fabregas, and a twenty year old called Mathieu Flamini. Against Claud Makelele, the best holding player of his generation, and Frank Lampard.
I remember anticipating a thrashing before the game. We all were. I mean, no Paddy, Bert and Edu injured, and Flamini and Fabregas against Makele and Lampard. Then a chap at the Arsenal forums came up with a line that I still remember. "Ah well, it is on nights like these that legends are born."
Fabregas and Flamini dominated the midfield, and but for Henry missing a tap in from eight yards right at the death, we would have won the game.
Flash forward, more than three years. Henry, Reyes, Campbell, Cole, Lauren, Pires... every single player who started that game with those two has gone. But yesterday it was like 2004 all over again: two young, unheralded players thrown into the deep end against Kaka, Pirlo and Gattuso. And heck, did they rise to the occasion! And in those ninety minutes, the vision and the philosophy of Arsène Wenger were in full bloom.
Total football died with the great Ajax team of the early '70s. But yesterday, on seeing Gael Clichy dribbling upon the right wing, Philip Senderos taking pot shots at goal, and Hleb, Fabregas, Flamini and Eboue constantly interchanging positions all over the pitch, Rinus Michels, wherever he is, would have been smiling. For once, faced with a team who set out to play football rather than kick lumps out of their opponents, the Arsenal philosophy found expression. Alex Hleb, the ball glued to his feet as he ran at the Milan defense; Clichy and Sagna, tearing down the flanks; Adebeyor, harrying, chasing, tackling; and of course, Fabregas and Flamini dominating the centre, dictating the pace of the game, and spraying passes all over the pitch.
So much for the performance. The manner and nature of the victory cannot be underestimated. Make no mistake, the English media does not like Arsenal. Purveyors of artistic, elegant football, this Arsenal team (with no Englishman in its starting eleven) is the very antithesis of English "grit" and "determination." Hence the pre-season predictions of fifth place. Hence the media waiting like packs of hungry jackals for even the hint of a slip to tear into the Arsenal squad. And hence the shocking reaction to Eduardo's leg-break which borderd more on the side of sympathy for Taylor than concern for Eduardo. All this has done is to create a siege mentality within the squad: yesterday, the togetherness was there for all to see. Fabregas running over to embrace Wenger spoke volumes. After two difficult weeks, this was the way to answer fools - upon the football pitch.
We may still go empty-handed this season. But whatever happens, the memory of last night is going to linger long in the minds of all Arsenal fans. Under pressure, backs to the wall, in the cauldron of the Guiseppe Meazza, a bunch of twenty-somethings faced and defeated the aristocrats of European football in their own fortress. This team, as Wenger said, is destined for greatness. It's only Two - Nil at the San Siro!
First things first, though. BBC can shove it. Soccernet can shove it. And Alen Hansen, Lou Macari and Graeme Sounness can collectively shove it.
I remember back in December 2004, the mid-point of the premier league season approaching, and Arsenal five points off the pace. We had to play leaders Chelsea at Highbury in a crunch match. The game before that, Patrick Vieira got his fifth yellow card of the season for a horrendous dive against Liverpool. Gilberto was suffering from a long-term injury, Edu was injured and Ray Parlour had been sold. That left us painfully short of numbers in the centre of the park, and the mantle fell upon two chaps nobody had every heard of before the season. A seventeen year old called Cesc Fabregas, and a twenty year old called Mathieu Flamini. Against Claud Makelele, the best holding player of his generation, and Frank Lampard.
I remember anticipating a thrashing before the game. We all were. I mean, no Paddy, Bert and Edu injured, and Flamini and Fabregas against Makele and Lampard. Then a chap at the Arsenal forums came up with a line that I still remember. "Ah well, it is on nights like these that legends are born."
Fabregas and Flamini dominated the midfield, and but for Henry missing a tap in from eight yards right at the death, we would have won the game.
Flash forward, more than three years. Henry, Reyes, Campbell, Cole, Lauren, Pires... every single player who started that game with those two has gone. But yesterday it was like 2004 all over again: two young, unheralded players thrown into the deep end against Kaka, Pirlo and Gattuso. And heck, did they rise to the occasion! And in those ninety minutes, the vision and the philosophy of Arsène Wenger were in full bloom.
Total football died with the great Ajax team of the early '70s. But yesterday, on seeing Gael Clichy dribbling upon the right wing, Philip Senderos taking pot shots at goal, and Hleb, Fabregas, Flamini and Eboue constantly interchanging positions all over the pitch, Rinus Michels, wherever he is, would have been smiling. For once, faced with a team who set out to play football rather than kick lumps out of their opponents, the Arsenal philosophy found expression. Alex Hleb, the ball glued to his feet as he ran at the Milan defense; Clichy and Sagna, tearing down the flanks; Adebeyor, harrying, chasing, tackling; and of course, Fabregas and Flamini dominating the centre, dictating the pace of the game, and spraying passes all over the pitch.
So much for the performance. The manner and nature of the victory cannot be underestimated. Make no mistake, the English media does not like Arsenal. Purveyors of artistic, elegant football, this Arsenal team (with no Englishman in its starting eleven) is the very antithesis of English "grit" and "determination." Hence the pre-season predictions of fifth place. Hence the media waiting like packs of hungry jackals for even the hint of a slip to tear into the Arsenal squad. And hence the shocking reaction to Eduardo's leg-break which borderd more on the side of sympathy for Taylor than concern for Eduardo. All this has done is to create a siege mentality within the squad: yesterday, the togetherness was there for all to see. Fabregas running over to embrace Wenger spoke volumes. After two difficult weeks, this was the way to answer fools - upon the football pitch.
We may still go empty-handed this season. But whatever happens, the memory of last night is going to linger long in the minds of all Arsenal fans. Under pressure, backs to the wall, in the cauldron of the Guiseppe Meazza, a bunch of twenty-somethings faced and defeated the aristocrats of European football in their own fortress. This team, as Wenger said, is destined for greatness. It's only Two - Nil at the San Siro!
