The younger members of our current squad could never live up to the achievements of the men mentioned above and it would be an exercise in futility to expect them too but it's safe to say that the future doesn't look especially bright. Our second trip to White Hart Lane this season ended in another farce. The knives were out instantly from the press, including stories of shirt-burnings in disgust. I do hope so. I have two pieces of advice for such people. Firstly, don't stand too close to the conflagration lest you burnt and, secondly, don't take my advice all the time. Of course this may be just a hysterical rumour but given the over-reaction from Wednesday it wouldn't surprise me. It's a nothing competition unless you're in the final. To emphasise our non-show the media have now established a love-in with 'Arsenal's youngsters' ™ and the uber managerial genius that is Harry Redknapp who is soon to be named the new Rinus Michels. The Gunners are a pre-pubescent Brazil 1970 and Redknapp is football's Dr Gregory House. Heady days.
If there was anything shameful about the game it was the pricing. £37 for a chance to see a team who didn't want to be there (hello Mr Babel) and covered less distance than a particularly lethargic koala bear (hello Sr. Torres). Rumour has it that it was even more expensive for the home fans but at least they had a guaranteed win to cheer. People can point at the fullbacks, Ngog, Lucas and the keeper but the first team players could have led a bit more. Most forgive Torres as he was coming back from injury but he seemed okay at Albion the week before. I love the lad but I don't want to see £20m geniuses watching the ball pass him from the distance of five metres. It wasn't until the newly revitalised Alonso came on that we made any difference. Meanwhile at the Bridge they went out to a lower league club and threw a coin into the crowd. I'm glad we didn't do that. I doubt if our side could have managed to get it over the byline.
Back to the real business on Saturday. I've never been to Bolton before and have a soft spot that would compete with matter from a pulsar. It was the usual story - the spiders leg stadium, their annoying over-played song, a man dressed as a lion to get what remained of the crowd warmed up and elbows being used more than legs. Generic Football Club 2009. As their fans walked away I heard some discuss their plans for the weekend. I suppose it took their minds off whatever that was supposed to be on the pitch.
Torres and Gerrard return and it's easy to see why they're feared while Kuyt and Alonso, slower obviously, are far too clever to be intimidated by their yard-dogs. Mascherano was quiet again but was seldom troubled. How we could have done with him and Dirk on Wednesday. We were dominant in the first half and took the expected physical battering in the second half well. At one stage I thought Megson's half time team talk must have been similar to Mickey's in the Rocky films.
On we go. The results are looking good with a 5-0 goal difference since we were robbed at the Lane. Oh, speaking of which, the North London mafia both lost games they'd be expected to win on Sunday.
Shame.
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