The gut-wrenching thing is that, apart from the goals, I felt the back-four looked solid for the most part, which may sound crazy having conceded four

Match Review – Arsenal 4 Tottenham Hotspurs 4 – Premier League

That headline doesn’t make for nice reading, does it? They say the truth hurts, and this is painful.

As I write this at 11.30pm on Wednesday night, barely two hours after we had a *comfortable* two-goal lead, my initial overriding feeling of numbness has been replaced by an altogether harsher reality.

I have not watched a re-run of the game, nor do I intend to, so this match report may contain a few factual errors that you’d expect from someone with a one-eyed view up in the stands.

I hadn’t been as pumped for a derby for a long time. The fact that I was off work meant that I had the entire day to sit at home and stew. But the matchday experience was a horrible one. Biting weather meant that too many layers had to be worn, and a horrible service on the Metropolitan Line resulted in myself and my mate DJ barely reaching the game for kick-off. I was glad to see Silvestre retain his place following Sunday’s clean sheet – Arsene had clearly adhered to the mantra ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’. Denilson was restored to the midfield to partner Cesc, whilst our most attacking wingers also took to the field. To counter this, Spurs elected to play Gareth Bale at left midfield.

The early events centred around two English right-sided midfielders: one a humble, unassuming young man with the world at his feet; the other an arrogant rat-faced prick who will never go on to bigger things. The former – our Theo, of course – came mighty close to breaking the deadlock with a left-footed snapshot that sneaked past the post.

Yet to the disdain of the Emirates faithful, it was the latter who opened the scoring. Ex-Gooner David Bentley got on the end of a second ball some 40-yards out, flicked it up and hit the most audacious of dipping volleys. The back-pedalling Almunia was a fair few yards off his line (as you would expect) and stood no chance. The replay at half-time showed that he got a fingertip to it, but by my estimation that was pretty much unsavable, simply due to the surprise factor. The rat-faced one sprinted all the way down to the opposite end of the pitch to celebrate with his “mates” in the away section. Credit where credit is due, it was a stunning effort. I’ve long held a theory that 80% of our goals conceded at home are either wonder strikes or set-pieces, and the curse had struck again.

So once again we were a goal down at home. I thought we banished that habit last season, but it has returned with a vengeance. As the Spurs fans jumped up and down, the Gooners roared the team on. And the players upped the tempo considerably. We nearly equalised ASAP, led by the fired up Robin van Persie. Theo too was posing problems, his slippery dribbling style and electric acceleration tormenting Assou-Ekoto. But the visitors held firm and clear cut chances were at a premium.

Gomes was looking none too clever in the Spurs goal however, as exhibited when he flapped at a corner and Gallas lashed it inches over from the back post. It was heartening to see that instead of leaving it late to take the game by the scruff of the neck, we were doing so now. Just after the half-hour a marauding Gael Clichy run eventually saw the Frenchman launch an effort that only just sailed over. Having still not scored for us, they day he does will see a massive eruption.

The equaliser was well-deserved and came with seven minutes of the half remaining. RvP swung a dangerous corner, Gomes sort of flapped as Silvestre nipped in ahead of him to nod it into the far corner. A goal in his first North London Derby cemented his temporary hero status. The half ended at a goal apiece.

During the fifteen minute break of sitting around doing nothing, the weather really took its toll. All the warmth generated by the passion of the fans in the first period had truly dissipated. However, it came back even quicker. Barely seconds into the half and we took the lead. Many a punter had yet to take their seats as Gallas nodded home a van Persie free-kick.

“1-0 and you fucked it up” crowed the gleeful Gooners. But the last laugh was not to be ours.

One thing I personally felt throughout the game was that everytime we scored, we looked vulnerable immediately thereafter. After last season’s Champions League tie at Anfield, we should be acutely aware of the need to shut up shop and simply consolidate our position, especially in big games where we know the opposition are cunts. Just keep the ball. So what if that is to the detriment of our attacking play? I myself have grown weary of supporting a team that is so shit-hot going forward but meek and naive in the other direction.

That said, I felt that on this occasion Silvestre and Gallas had decent games, especially the skipper. Aerial balls were contested and won and Spurs very rarely (if ever) tore us apart. The fact that all of their goals stemmed from long-range efforts suggests that the problem lay elsewhere on the pitch.

A series of bookings around the hour mark was a clear sign that the away side were becoming desperate. And the game should have been over after Adebayor’s customary goal against the enemy. The Tognoator had already snatched at one chance but couldn’t miss this one. Robin clipped a delightful through ball into Nasri’s path, who chipped it over the onrushing Gomes. Just to make sure it went in, Ade slid it home. I looked anxiously for an offside flag but thankfully it wasn’t forthcoming.

Just as the home fans embarked on an ironic rendition of “are you Tottenham in disguise?”, the Lilywhites came straight back into it. Manuel failed to hold a stinging effort from Big Tom Huddlestone and substitute Darren Bent pounced to reduce our cushion. Once again I looked for an offside flag but this time I was saddened to see it not raised. I make that to be Manuel’s first mistake of the season. In his defence, I am reliably informed that the initial shot struck his face, leaving him a bit dazed and disabling him from reacting to the spilled ball. I refuse to watch a replay to sway my mind either way.

A shocked silence descended around the stadium, but everyone was happy again a minute later. Ade set up Robin at the back post and he made no mistake with his right-foot. Their funky celebration suggested that the game was well and truly over.

And it should’ve been. For the ensuing twenty minutes we knocked the ball around with confidence. Some would say over-confidence, but it is easy to say that in hindsight. The lead could have even been extended but Ade sent a header wide when he should have at least got it on target. A trio of defensive substitutions (Eboue, Diaby and Song on for Walcott, RvP and Nasri) saw our attacking edge blunted. And the way this team defend, surely attack is the best form of defence? I would have liked to have seen Bendtner come on to further occupy the Spurs backline, but c’est la vie. Once again, hindsight is a wonderful thing.

With a minute of normal time left, I looked underneath me to see half of the Spurs fans having already left. So I missed the Clichy slip which led to the goal, although DJ quickly alerted me to it. Jenas took advantage, rumbled forward and curled in a peach of a shot. That old theory about only conceding wonder goals reared its ugly head again. Poor Gael, every error or slip he makes seems to be fatal – Birmingham away, Man City away, and here.

The fourth official signalled a whopping four minutes of injury time, which I guess was only fair given the plethora of goals, bookings and substitutions. Injury time was certainly eventful, I distinctly remember us breaking and winning a corner but inexplicably tossing it into the box instead of playing keep ball. There was another occasion where Cesc played in Ade but the big man was offside – surely keeping ball would have been the wiser option again? Still, I guess you live and learn. You can be damn sure that if we are in such a position again the players will keep the fucking football, so as to avoid what happened next…

Diaby committed a foul near the touchline, the resulting free-kick went for a corner, which was then cleared. The ball nearly fell to Ade who would have been through on goal, but Gomes hoofed it upfield where many a white shirt was waiting. Somehow or another Modric picked up the ball, hit it goalwards where it bounced off the upright and a grateful Lennon tapped it home. Four-fucking-all, and only five minutes earlier we were “chilling”.

Like I say, I haven’t seen any replays so I might be wrong, but the issue I have is that with their second goal being a tap-in after a rebound, why didn’t the defence realise that something similar was a distinct possibility again????

To compound my misery, the PA at the stadium announced that the Piccadilly Line was shut for the “foreseeable future”. So after a massively long-winded walk to Finsbury Park, it took me doubly long to get home. Even at Baker Street some chirpy Spud came up to me and not-so-politely enquired me to make another Spurs joke, for I was a “Gooner cunt”. And having arrived in the safe haven (or so I thought) of North-West London, I went to the chippie to get some comfort food, but there was a bloke standing in front of the door saying “If you try and go in I’ll knock you out.” Wanker bastard cunt. So as I type this I’m fucking starving. Although if he was a distraught Arsenal fan, I forgive him.

The gut-wrenching thing is that, apart from the goals, I felt the back-four looked solid for the most part, which may sound crazy having conceded four. Yet all of their goals came from long-range, be it straight in or via a rebound. If we had conceded four goals through shit defending then you can hold your hands up and say we got what we deserved. I guess you can’t legislate for the first goal (goal of the season?), and the third came from an unfortunate slip that led to another wonder strike. But having conceded the second as we did, I am aggrieved that the fourth was so similar.

All the good work of scoring four goals ourselves had been completely undone. Sure, chances were missed, but a certain three points was thrown away due to two things. Firstly, naivety in the final minutes. In a way this can be expected given the youthful exuberance of the side that always wants to score goals. But this follows on to the second factor: leadership. I am loathe to criticise Gallas because I thought he put in a very good show, but having them come back to 4-3, surely he should have been demanding, nay warning, the midfield and attack to run the ball into the corners and kill time? Is it his fault though? Shouldn’t professional players (whatever their age) know what to do? I dunno, my brain is frazzled.

To summarise:

1. Would Man Utd, 4-2 up at Old Trafford, have gifted two late goals to Man City?
2. Would Liverpool, 4-2 up at Anfield, have gifted two late goals to Everton?
3. Would Chelsea, 4-2 up at Stamford Bridge, have gifted two late goals to Fulham?

The answer to all three is a resounding no. And that’s exactly why it will be one of those three clubs lifting the Premiership title in May and *almost certainly* not us. Like the headline of this article, the truth hurts.

P.S. after Cesc’s Arsenal Ladies/Spurs comment, can we please please please put an embargo on players saying things that could act as motivation for the opposition? Sure it was funny in the build-up to the game when we all read it, but in football these things have a nasty habit of coming back to bite you in the arsenal.