from the factory floor
Ashburton Grove
Referee: Martin Atkinson
Arsenal 1-0 Manchester City 8 April 2012
Arteta [87]
For this crucial fixture, before
heading to the Factory I tried to soothe the PMT* with some eggs, biscuits and delicious
bacon, and took in some of the United-QPR match. Not to be outdone by the poor
officiating in the Chelsea-Wigan match, Lee Mason and his crew offered up an
encore with another crucially incorrect offside, compounded by the shameful
dive [that still today no one will call a dive ‘cos he’s English, innit?] of
Ashley Young.
I’m not saying United couldn’t handle
QPR at home without the advantage, but that doesn’t make it any more tolerable
that they were once again benefactors of generous officiating at Old Trafford.
That makes 8 penalties for them at home this season in the league, 8 more than
the Arsenal have enjoyed. I tweeted before our match that I hoped the home
cooking would continue at the Grove. If you’re thinking that’s foreshadowing, you’re
right. Sort of.
It would only take 15 minutes to
realize that hope of home-cooking was wasted. Kompany barreled through the back
of Van Persie for as clear a penalty as you could get, and we only got a corner
kick out of it.** If the hand on Young’s back was a sending off then Kompany
should receive a season-long ban for the amount of contact he made in comparison.
From the ensuing corner, RVP pinged a header off the crossbar via an unwitting
Vermaelen.
As if that weren’t bad enough, Atkinson
missed a blatant sending off when Balotelli took a shot long after the flag was
raised and whistle blown for offside. The Italian was clearly worked up for
this match, probably out of self-loathing for getting his cigarettes
from the same place as Rooney, and it was a short matter of time before he
really should have been sent off for a horrific knee-high, studs first ‘tackle’
on Song. It wasn’t a red card so much as a jail sentence. Then after a near
miss from a corner Stupid Mario took an almighty kick against the goal post and
was generally looking unhinged. He went on to rough up Sagna for the opening 45
and would commit two more studs-first ‘tackles’ on the Arsenal right-back,
earning a yellow for the second one.
At this point I reminded the NY Gooners
in attendance [TJ, Tin Lid, and Ed at this stage, Carissa would join after the
break] that Balotelli is several sandwiches short of a picnic, with the story
about him driving
into a women’s prison simply because the gate was open. In fairness, Ed
pointed out, he probably just wanted to visit his mother. Still, Balotelli and
Aguero both continued to moan about
every call against them, despite the benefits of two pretty major non-decisions
by the officials. I suggested that the little Argentinian was missing a “t”
from his first name, not for
the first time this season. Tin Lid clearly not following this blog, I see.
Needless to say I was losing it over
the officials. Meanwhile, TJ was having a ‘private’ word with Tin Lid about the
deliberateness of Martin Atkinson, in contrast to a say, Phil Dowd, warning
that he wasn’t talking to me despite the fact I was standing right next to both
of them. Being the interloper that I am, I chipped in like Song versus QPR [that
is to say, needlessly and to little effect], that Atkinson was deliberately ignoring anything that
resembled a foul against the Arsenal. TJ was having none of it. As usual, that
didn’t stop me. To be fair he’s absolutely right that of the available options,
Atkinson was the best pick from an Arsenal point of view. [editor's note: I take it all back. Atkinson is a fucking cunt ]
The half-time whistle blew and the
players trod from the pitch towards the dressing rooms, with Balotelli rolling
around on the floor apparently in some discomfort. As TJ pointed out, not a
single City player even paused to look down at him on the ground. It’s no
secret the Italian is unloved by his team and no one expected him to emerge for
the second half.
I wondered out loud whether we’d even
get a replay of the Song incident at the break and to my surprise the
presenters made a four-course meal out of it. Fair play and hopefully the
appropriately lengthy ban will be applied, although I fail to understand how
Atkinson could miss it, given that Balotelli was in possession of the ball in
the middle of the pitch before he lost control [first of the ball, then of his
mind] and studded Song to the ground. If he didn’t see it just what the bloody
hell was he looking at? I should be grateful in retrospect that he can claim
his view was obstructed, but in reality what difference is it to us? We still
had to play a full match against eleven opponents with another match in a few
days, quite unlike a certain top of the table team, who got to stroll against
ten men for 75 minutes.
If offered 0-0 after the first period I
suppose I would have taken it before the match, but it was shaping up to be one
of those days. Deflected shots that would have gone in if they happened against
us. We hit the post at least three times. Poor officiating [except for an
inch-perfect offside decision that ruled out a nice RVP goal]. And despite a
clear lack of ambition, City still looked like nicking something on the break.
Surprisingly, Balotelli was still on the pitch, a situation we all agreed was
probably better for us, even if the unpunished stamp on Scott Parker was in the
back of my mind, and the winning goals that followed.
Benayoun slipped around on the pitch
looking very busy but ineffective and ultimately missed one from a yard out
that still has me scratching my head. Maybe he should spend a little less time
bigging up his former teams on Twitter and a little more time practicing the
basics. Like staying upright. Or finishing from point blank into an unguarded
net. Add to that, he’s not the best looking bloke and as TJ and Tin Lid
indicated, a little too close to some anti-Semitic stereotypical villains in
his appearance. Happy Easter everybody! There’s a reason we were in the pub and
not church.
We were getting no change from the
match, despite dominating. Chamberlain
was the obvious catalyst, his exclusion from the starting XI only explained by
this potential need for an impact from the bench. A spark up front is what was
required so naturally Arsene brought on Ramsey [Dos Santos came on for Gibbs earlier].
Since I wasn’t watching for the last 10 minutes according to TJ, again in spite
of standing inches away from him, we were off balance and Ramsey was a good
choice. I wasn’t too sure but it wasn’t exactly going to get worse. It just
didn’t get any better.
The game wound down and the Ox eventually
came on in the 85th minute, settling that little discussion between
myself and Ed, seemingly too late. But it was a move involving AOC that led to
the goal. He got in behind his marker and tried to thread the ball into the
penalty area. It was deflected away and Arteta, who had another performance
full of subtlety and discipline, surged forward to win the 50/50 and continued
his run into a patch of space outside the box. Before anyone could really yell
it he produced an unstoppable dipping shot into the bottom corner to set us
into raptures.
Before arriving at Everton or Arsenal,
somewhere along the way Mikel must have gotten a bit of voodoo mojo on his
feet. Mudbone maybe? Wenger reckons
it’s because they’re small. Perhaps both are correct. Whichever way you slice
it, when properly motivated, he can kick a ball very, very hard. Yesterday he
seemed very much motivated.
Although I previously showered the
Captain [a couple matches ago] and TJ [yesterday] with raging spittle, to his
joy Ed survived the post-goal chest-bump without wearing the full pint of Bass
I held overhead. One may spray invective with aplomb but we dare not waste
precious ale, especially when celebrating this fine strike still needed doing. And
celebrate we did. The home support were in the mood too, and gave it the full
Poznan, much to our amusement.
A word for the poor goal posts, which
were taking a beating. A Balotelli kick in the first half, RVP and Theo shots in
the second half, and Joe Hart’s kick after the goal all rattled the frame,
prompting us to sing a little Pink Floyd [Hey City! Leave our posts alone!]. The
job was nearly done but there was still time left, just enough for Balotelli to
finally get his marching orders for his umpteenth tackle on Sagna. Worryingly,
there was also still time for Tevez to wrangle a free kick.
Kolarov lined it up and blasted it
against the wall, and from the loose ball Dos Santos sent Ramsey clear for a
more score-line appropriate second goal. Instead of spotting the wide-open RVP
or Chamberlain, he elected to wait for his defender, cut inside and nearly kick
it out for a throw-in with the goal gaping. It was groan-worthy stuff and
hopefully something that won’t haunt us later with regards to goal difference
and third place.
Just about every player had a great
performance. On another day RVP has two headed goals and Theo, Ramsey,
Benayoun, and Rosicky [particularly impressive on the day] all could have had
goals. But if you’re talking Man of the Match there could be only one. Here
come the Arteta. He’s the Arsenal Midfielda [with little tiny feets!***].
*If you’re familiar with Red-Geezer, you know the expression. If
you’re not familiar, why not?
** Had I made the bet with Kaiser based
on the League only, it would still be on you know. It was still worth it.
***Listen to the Mudbone. And imagine
that the foot around Miss Rudolph’s neck once belonged to Peter Reid.
Follow @11cannons
Follow @11cannons
No comments:
Post a Comment