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March 1999 9.3.99 Arsenal 3 Sheffield Wednesday 0
Arsenal 3 Sheffield Wednesday 0 If you were the two spuds who sit behind us in the East Stand your match report would have gone something like this: "Totally boring first half. Talked to Ivan about the EU common agricultural policy and the very worrying news about Soya leakage in breast implants. Remembered at half time to reprimand the au pair when she gets back from her step aerobics class about the cost of all those phone calls to Slovenia. Had a quick look at the ‘footy’. Six minutes to go on the clock, no score, might as well leave early and get the Volvo out of St Joan of Arc’s car park. Must pick up some camomile tea and a copy of Granita on the way home for Trish." Ha, ha, ha. Yeah, cosmic. Six minutes to go and these pillocks were on their way home. About fifteen minutes before that the surprise of the night had been sprung on us. Up went the spotty electronic substitutes board off went Ray Parlour and on came Manu Petit. In the twenty minutes he was on he totally transformed the game from a dead pointless affair into a stunning little footballing cameo. The truth be told, the first half was a complete dog. The learned yuppie half-lives who sit behind us had a bit of a point. Arsenal chased the game lamely; even Bergkamp, who was so off the pace of the game he didn’t look like he could hit Asia with a ping pong ball. Come half time and we were all yawning our heads off. With ten minutes to go the highlight of the game was poor old Diawara hitting yet another post (his third in a row) with a belting little shot. By this time Kanu too was on and Wednesday with the solid Jonk and a rejuvenated Des Walker were soaking up everything Arsenal could throw at them. Petit quickly hit an up and under ball forward which Bergkamp ran onto and in a flash out went a long leg and the ball buried itself in the net. One-nil up, five minutes to go; amazing, thirty thousand people all woke up simultaneously. Barely two minutes later Kanu found himself on the edge of the area in a little island of space. We were all screaming at him to shoot; but he didn’t seem in too much of a rush. He looked up, moved sideways with the ball, looked up again, scratched his arse (well, maybe not) and just belted the ball. And guess where it went. In a new experience for us East Standers, Kanu came over, cupped a hand over one ear and gave us a smile a mile wide as we all chanted his name again and again. Silly, I know, but it was that little bit of magic that made the whole night. The third goal, a swift minute or so later came through Wednesday pressing the Arsenal. Overmars picked up a loose ball, ran the length of the pitch and then squared it to Bergkamp who timed his chip exquisitely just as the goalkeeper arrived. You wouldn’t win any prizes in a spot the ball competition for guessing where it ended up. 3-0. Three goals in six minutes. A tiny mini match. Then the whistle went, almost exactly on cue. You would have thought that the players had won the world cup by their reactions at the end. Then again, I suppose a couple of them already have. Apart from three wonderful points the best bit of the night was that the dingbats behind us missed all the goals. And they missed Kanu’s goal on Saturday. Ha. There is a God. And he doesn’t drive a Volvo. Man of the Match: He’s blonde, he’s quick.
Everton 0 Arsenal 2 There are some matches where the result is more important than the match itself. As a spectacle, matches like this pale into insignificance; all you want is three points, United to lose and Chelsea finally to show themselves up for what they really are ie. overrated. Arsenal dominated this game, allowing Everton only one real shot late in the game that boinged off the bar. Early on Ray Parlour, through on goal, shot and put a ball into the stands so high that it came back dripping with Mersey river water. Ten minutes later, Overmars speeding down the sunshine splashed left, hefted an incredible ball fifty yards plus diagonally across the pitch. It fell to Ray, who controlled it, brought it onto his foot and lamped it into the net. Terrific goal; the Overmars pass maybe the best of the season. We were all slightly wary of the referee, Uriah ‘heap of cack’ Rennie. Maybe not one of the best performing refs in the league, but possibly the sharpest looking and more than able to probably go ten rounds with Tyson. The man is stacked, physically, but in the thought department some of his decisions seem to border on mental illness. Anybody who reads these reports regularly will know that we are biased half-wits who rarely see anything good in the opposing side. But when Rennie showed the red card to Hutchinson for a supposed elbow on Keown, we couldn’t believe it; I don’t think even Keown believed it. Mad. An elbow seen by only one man out of the thousands that were watching the game. That, my friend, is delusional behaviour. Later, Petit was sent off for a second yellow, based on a first yellow where Dacourt dived over Petit’s legs like a spawning salmon. Oh, well, he did look a little rusty, but the real pisser is that Manu misses the FA Cup semi final against Man U. Bugger. The rest of the game was taken up by trying to find out how the mankies and the blues were doing. On the pitch Parlour was having a field day; the sort of form that makes him a must for England. (Just watch him play for Keegan. He’ll have a shit game and come back injured; you mark my words.) It was one of Ray’s runs that propelled him into the area where he was brought down from behind and Bergkamp coolly converted the penalty. Not much else happened in the gameapart from a scorchio shot from Vivas that burnt the paint off the Everton crossbar as it whizzed over. Funny day, really. Three points to stay exactly where we were at three o clock, the only joy being Chelsea who folded to an enterprising West Ham. Deja vu, que sera, que sera; but more than a bit merde about Petit. Man of the Match: Ray Parlour.
Arsenal 2 Coventry 0 It all started well; the Arsenal players applauding Lee Dixon for reaching his 500th game. As my mate put it; ‘500 games and two good crosses and they’re clapping him.’ Take no notice, most of my friends are cynical sods who even think gifted talented people like, Noel Edmonds and Anthea Turner are a complete waste of a decent respiratory system. ‘Those idiots are breathing my air.’ Anyway, we’re only mentioning Lee because, inadvertently, it was his departure with a turned ankle after just half an hour, that ultimately turned the game. It was good to see the Arsenal at full strength; even if the soon to be suspended Petit looked a bit a bit like a whipped dog. (An Afghan, I think.) All week he has been going on about leaving the English game. With an offer in the region of £13 million from Milan in the wings we can’t help wondering if Manu is trying to extricate from Highbury in the most damage limiting way. We’ll wait see on that one. Arsenal dominated the game from the start, albeit in a lazy, wasteful way. We had so much of the ball initially that it was obvious that some of the passing would go astray. Ray Parlour, just about to be ruined forever by his inducement to the England squad, was shaping up for another @FC man of the match, small green line award (see below). He ran the right of the field like a general. His running was powerful and precise and it came as no surprise when he connived to get the ball just outside the Coventry area, turned Burrows inside out and bent the ball around the keeper and into the net. We had a terrific view of the goal right along Ray’s spine; bent as a politicians smile. Excellent. It even made up for the rather severe pruning of his poodle barnet; honestly, Ray, you look like a half sheared Merino. It was when Dixon’s 500 game ankle went south that some of the problems started. Lee went off, Ray dropped into right back and the disappointing Ljungberg came on and filled in Ray’s spot. I don’t know; with Bouldy on the bench I’m sure Wenger could have afforded to bring on Steve, put Keown at right back and left Ray Parlour where he was. The arrival of Freddy did absolutely nothing. In fact, all it did was increase Ray’s workload considerably and give the sky blues carte blanc to run down the right. But then again, Wenger’s a highly paid manager and I’m just a bloke who can’t eat a Toffee Crisp without getting it all smeared around me mush. The tide turned slightly then. Arsenal were still making chances but Coventry were making inroads; particularly down the channels. On the left, Winterburn was having a stormer; defending, driving forward and generally livening up our dozy looking midfield. The second half was more of the same; a bit tedious and a bit worrying. Most of us were getting a bit uncomfortable with the referee (the tumbling clown, Alcock. Was ever a referee so aptly named?) who seemed to positively revel in every bit of Gary MacAllister’s transparent thuggery At some point Coventry thought they should have had a penalty and the Sky Blues unintelligible ginger mutant, Gordon Strachan, was leaping up and down on the touchline looking like a satsuma in a tracksuit. How do you get hair that colour? I wouldn’t have liked to be in the Strachan household the day Gordon’s old man came home early and found his missus in bed with a large goldfish. Anyway, the game plodded on. The now inevitable substitution of Anelka for Kanu happened and we were hoping that 1-0 would enough. Kanu, however, transformed the game. In a matter of minutes he got hold of a ball out on the right, lazily drifted across the pitch, failed to be impressed by the nipping hordes of Coventry grunts fouling him like mad and slipped an uncomplicated ball into the path of the advancing Overmars. A simple tap for Marc and it was 2-0. Quite amazingly, we were wall up on our feet moaning that Kanu was fouled. Never let us be called intelligent. The crowd loved the Kanu run. Several proto Kanu songs are currently being auditioned by the Clock End: one to the tune of ‘Tequila’ that’s about fifteen minutes long and goes absolutely nowhere and the other a more promising rendition of Gary Glitter’s ‘Do you wanna be in my gang.’ (‘Kanu, Kanu, Kanu, Kanu, Kanu, Kanu, Kanooooo, OOOW!’) However, the one we prefer is, ‘He’s big, he’s black he’s had a heart attack, Kanooo.’ Marvellous. Talking of singing, the last ten minutes consisted of the more choral members of the Clock End singing to Gordon Strachan directly: ‘Gordon Strachan’s gingaaa, he wears a GINGAAA hat and when he saw the Nationwide, he said I’m having that.’ Made me laugh, I’m fed up with witless Coventry. Hope they go down. (With Charlton and Southampton, please.) So, not the most enjoyable game this season but three more points in the tough attritional battle with Manchester. Still winning, still singing and still have much to be grateful for. (At least we don’t have ginger hair.) Small green line award. Man of the Match: Would have been Parlour. Could have been Kanu. Definitely should be Nigel Winterburn.
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