Arsene played the perecentages here, and it didn’t work. Hey, it happens. Barcelona did the same the night previously as they knew they had Real Madrid coming up on the weekend. And whilst Boro aren’t as glamorous as Real Madrid, the logic is the same

Match Review – Porto 2 Arsenal 0 – Champions League

The title to this piece says it all. A makeshift, mix-and-match Arsenal side never really got out of second gear and succumbed to a defeat by Porto, who on their own patch were evidently more up for it.

The spotlight in the Arsenal blogosphere these last few days has fallen on one man: Emmanuel Eboue. He took his place at right-back as part of an experienced defence. Another victim of the boo-boys following a below-par performance in the Carling Cup last week had been Nicklas Bendtner and he was restored to the lineup here. But lest we forget, it was he who had secured our place in the knockout stage with a late winner against Kiev a fortnight ago. The Dane, however, was shorn of his infamous pink boots, instead reverting to natty (or should that be ‘nasty’) fluorescent green pair.

With a plethora of minor niggles and players being rested, my main worry before the game stemmed from our two most horrifying defeats of last season: the 4-0 reverse against Man Utd in FA Cup and the 5-1 hammering by Spurs in the Carling Cup. In both of these games we fielded a mixture of youth and experience, and it is very rarely a combination that works. The young players are often overawed by the occasion and are unable to link up with the seniors as they do with their fellow youths, whilst the seniors themselves, quite frankly, can’t be arsed. My fears were proved right.

With all eyes on Emmanuel Eboue early doors, one of his first contributions to was to concede a free-kick in a dangerous position. The wall disintegrated and Bruno Alves’ shot was well held by Manuel, who was skipper for the night in the absence of Cesc.

On the quarter hour Porto nearly broke free but a timely interception by Johan Djourou stopped them in their tracks. We may have eventually lost and conceded two goals, but Djourou is growing in stature game by game and looked far more comfortable than his elder partner William Gallas.

Many believed that Carlos Vela would start alongside Bendtner with Diaby out wide. These roles were reversed, although it wasn’t to the detriment of the Mexican’s game as he showed many neat touches to prove that he is more than just a finisher. In the long-term his position is most certainly through the middle, because unlike Theo Walcott he doesn’t have that searing pace to get past his man on the outside. His craftiness will be an invaluable asset through the centre. Diaby, I felt, also started with a purpose and looked to impose himself on the game with some strong runs through the middle, but his passing lacked crispness and general decision-making went awry at times.

A concerted spell of possession and pressure from the boys in red and white – probably the only sustained assault we had throughout the entire match – eventually resulted in Ramsey cutting in from the right in the 25th minute and arrowing a drilled left-footed shot that Helton in the Porto goal turned behind for a corner.

We had looked comfortable thus far, but then the pendulum swung. In my eyes the change in momentum came after we saw the best and worst of Diaby within a split second. Just inside the opposition half in the inside-left channel, he recreated the halcyon days of Patrick Vieira has he juggled and flicked the ball over his marker, but then proceeded to give the ball away with a mis-directed pass. One thing that the current crop of players seems to lack is pass appreciation, i.e. instinctively knowing where your team-mate would be comfortable receiving the ball.

Porto had woken up after the half-hour mark. Gallas was bundled off the ball and the dangerous Lisandro capitalised before seeing his shot blocked by Almunia. The big lad Hulk up-front was posing a problem or two, but for a man with his name he had an annoying tendency to go down very easily and waving around an imaginary yellow card.

The opener came seven minutes before half-time, and our set-piece blues were revisited. A regulation corner was floated in and Diaby fell asleep momentarily, thereby allowing Bruno Alves to get a run on him and rise to power the header home. It was no more than Porto had deserved as they had really upped the tempo.

We tried to reply but our lack of penetration was exhibited two minutes later when Bendtner broke on the halfway line and ran at the Porto defence, but was ponderous in possession and the move eventually petered out. His fellow scapegoat, Mr. Eboue, had a quiet first-half by his usual standards but managed to get forward in the closing stages to whip in a teasing cross that was cut out at the near-post. Half-time.

During the break I didn’t expect that we’d get much joy. It was clear that Porto wanted it more.

The half began and that man Eboue was involved from the off. He coerced a foul that saw him clutching his ankle and resulted in a yellow card for Lucho Gonzalez. Had that happened at home, I’m sure the Emirates faithful would have shown little pity the Ivorian’s way. Then a minute later he himself picked up a booking after a seemingly innocuous tackle. The referee was obviously trying to be the star of the show by issuing two yellows in a minute having not shown one in the previous 45.

Diaby’s performance mirrored that of Arsenal’s – having started sprightly and looked comfortable, the error that led to the goal had drained his confidence completely. Abou was running into cul-de-sacs and being muscled off possession too easily, although he wasn’t the only one in our midfield to suffer the same fate.

On 53 minutes Porto doubled their lead with Lisandro springing our offside trap and walloping the ball into the top corner. It was a truly glorious finish that left Manuel with no chance whatsoever. Whether it was Silvestre who had dropped in behind the centre-halves or Eboue on the far side that was playing Lisandro onside, I’m not sure.

A quick word about Silvestre – I think this may have been his first game for us at left-back, and he didn’t really cover himself in glory. We’ve grown accustomed to marauding left-backs such as Silvinho, Cashley Hole, Clichy, and even the likes of Traore and Gibbs breaking through nowadays. So for all those who moan at Clichy for whatever reason, just remember the penetration he offers us going forward. Silvestre is a solid citizen at full-back – nothing more, nothing less.

Five minutes after the goal it was again Aaron Ramsey providing us with a semblance of hope as he scrapped for the ball on the right but could not muster enough power in his shot. That was to be his last act of the game as Jack Wilshere came on for the Welshman, whilst Gibbs replaced the out-of-sorts Diaby on the opposite flank. Abou will definitely see better days – don’t forget that he was returning from injury in this game, after all. What has become massively clear to me after that performance though is that he will NEVER be a suitable partner for Fabregas. He is too languid to perform that role and lacks the necessary bite in the tackle. For all of Denilson’s perceived failings, at least he puts his foot in. Diaby’s best role, it seems, is just off the front-man – the position from where he wreaked havoc against Fenerbahce a few months ago.

And although Wilshere and Gibbs added a bit more impetus on the flanks, this simply served to stretch the game too much and leave us open at the back. From such situations Porto manufactured three chances in the space of ten minutes and really should have converted at least one of them.

The night was summed up when substitute Mark Randall’s first act was to get nutmegged. On for Alex Song, Randall then proceeded to have a decent cameo as he made a few good passes but was barged off the ball too easily on a couple of occasions.

With eight minutes remaining we were presented with an opportunity to grab a consolation. Wilshere’s slippery and elusive style won us a free-kick on the edge of the box. Bendtner and Vela stood over it expectantly, before the Big Dane pulled rank and fired a low effort that was grasped comfortably by Helton. And that was that.

We deserved exactly what we got: nothing. But did you really, truly expect anything different?

We knew that by sending out a scratch team, we’d do well to come away with a point against a Porto side who are have a formidable home record against English opposition. A Porto side intent on revenge after a four-goal mauling at the Emirates by a focused and switched-on Arsenal team that included our twin goal threat of Ade and Robin supplemented by the creativity of Cesc, the guile of Nasri, and the sheer pace of Theo.

None of the aforementioned players featured last night, but god willing they will be back for the knockout stages, so I am certainly not going throw my toys out of the pram at what was – admittedly – an abject performance. Because the reality of the situation is this: having already qualified, would it have been worth wheeling out the big guns such as Ade and RvP, who would probably themselves had not gone hell for leather, thereby also getting beaten and maybe even picking up an injury before the much more crucial clash with Boro in two days time? The answer to that is a simple NO.

Arsene played the perecentages here, and it didn’t work. Hey, it happens. Barcelona did the same the night previously as they knew they had Real Madrid coming up on the weekend. And whilst Boro aren’t as glamorous as Real Madrid, the logic is the same. In a season as long and arduous as this, there is little need to take unnecessary risks.

My sympathy goes out to the travelling Arsenal contingent. It’s sad for them to have gone so far and forked out so much to watch such a shower of shite. I had planned to go – but a (lucky) twist of fate put paid to that.

The defeat therefore sees us finish second, so we are liable to face one of Roma, Panathinaikos, Barcelona, Bayern Munich, or Juventus in the next round. The natural instinct would be to plump for the Greeks, but I fear that would be a re-run of the PSV ordeal in 2007. If anything this season and CL campaigns of that past have proved, it is that we can raise our games to extraordinary levels against the big teams whilst inexplicably sinking to shoddy lows against the supposed minnows. Roma, Barca, Bayern or Juve? Bring it on. Because one thing is for certain – none of them will want to face a flying Walcott, a crafty Cesc, a rockin’ Robin or a bulldozing Adebayor in February.