Running Up That Hill

By: Abby | March 29th, 2008

It was the stereotypical wet afternoon in the North, in conditions that my wimpy American self, used to rain delays and stadiums with roofs, couldn’t imagine sitting in, much less playing football in. In the worst form Arsenal had been in ages it was time to visit the bogey team of the past few seasons. Shorn of Allardyce and Anelka, and battling relegation, they weren’t the Bolton that had caused us so much trouble in the past. But in football old habits and superstition die hard.

It wasn’t as if we started badly. The beginning 10 minutes were rather encouraging. Nicklas Bendtner and Robin van Persie should have scored a few between them, but were kept out by the goalkeeper and general rustiness. Van Persie from his long injury break, Bendtner from his non-regular playing time. But it seemed we would score soon after those first ten minutes.

Instead, it was Bolton. Their first attack, a cross in, a header that Kolo missed, and Almunia flailed at a ball not too far from where he was standing. I try not to be too harsh on Almunia, try not to let the fact that I don’t like him obscure my objectivity, but I’m still not convinced that he’s what we need. He’s not a great goalkeeper. Decent, even good, but not great.

Perhaps we panicked a bit after that. We’ve let the opposition scoring get to us too much in the past weeks. In the run of form we’re in, perhaps the players lost their heads. And we were soon down a man as well. Diaby- who really should know better, with what he’s been through- was sent off for an atrocious studs-up tackle. Argue all you want about intent, but tackles like that have no place in football. Even if it gets one of our own men sent off. It was an incredibly stupid move from Diaby. Arsenal players (and fans) should know that most of all.

If we were panicked and flailing before, we certainly were after that. Moves went astray. Touches were completely off. Arsenal, possession masters, couldn’t keep ahold of the ball. Duly, we let another goal in. A sloppy loss of possession, even sloppier defending than the first goal, and a deflection off our controversial captain meant Matthew Taylor got his second.

An awful half. An awful run. And in the form we’re in, everyone were as pessimistic as we’d ever been. Made worse when a still-rusty van Persie fired a damned good chance over the crossbar. Frankly, the entire first half was absolutely embarrassing.

(Also, I hate Setanta’s half-time “commentators.” I’ll take FSC’s low-rent commercials any day. Although I watched the game after knowing what would happen and I did feel a bit smug as I watched them smirkingly predict doom.)

The second half started with more of the same. A succession of Bolton corners. Arsenal looking shellshocked. Poor defending again. Losing possession and failing to regain it. And yet…and yet…

It took sixty or so minutes, but someone’s pride finally forced action. Was it Wenger, tossing on Theo and the “jaded” Adebayor and going to a gung-ho 3-4-2? Gallas, seeing yet more headlines with doubts about his captaincy? The rest of the boys recalling how far they’ve come and how ridiculous it would be to collapse now? Whatever the case, Gallas, showing himself more like the number 10 on his jersey than the defender he is, turned a poorly-defended Bolton corner into a powerfully-shot goal.

Where the captain leads the team follows, for better or for worse. We passed our way into the box. A smart shot was well saved. And as Hleb fought for the rebound, he was brought down right in front of the rep. Van Persie finally got his name on the scoresheet again as he cooly slammed home the penalty. All even now.

But a draw was useless for us. We needed all the points. And the impetus, finally, was with us again, although our finishing (as it often is, irritatingly) left something to be desired. Robin is clearly not back to his pre-injury predatory self and missed a golden chance on 80 minutes after Theo showed a bit of the player we all hope he’ll become. The boy Walcott is perhaps not a starter yet, but as an impact sub he is magnificent. There is something to be said for the impact of a speedy guy on the wing towards the ending parts of a game- Real Betis’ introduction of David Odonkor (a somewhat stockier German version of Theo in a way) was one of the elements in their similarly spectacular comeback against Barcelona.

Although Bolton probed, destiny was with us. And who else to save the day but our symbol, our own Catalan, Cesc Fabregas? The look on his face as he celebrated, after his deflected shot (from a wonderful pass from Hleb) trickled over the line, showed all. Cesc felt it as he did. His passion as much as his skills make him so beloved. He is, simply, ours.

In the end, preposterously, after going two goals and a man down, we won at the Reebok. It was an incredible comeback. Quite simply amazing. And we’re still in the thick of the races. Our season continues, about as improbable as it began.

Was this the perfect win? Of course not. But in its own way it was spectacular. There are a lot of things to say, criticisms to make, but I’m endlessly irritated by those “fans” who attempt to destroy an euphoria before it’s tasted. We can discuss what needs to be changed, the luck we may have had, how this would have ended if we were not playing the third-from-bottom team later. For now, we can bask in a win plucked from despair.

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