A very silly video about a very important player.
Now that was tasty. Video features clumsy celebratory run down the stairs.
What’s that? A blog post. I know, I know, I’ve been absent. Neglectful, even. But a lot’s gone on. I broke my arm, for one. I’m going to keep trotting out that excuse until it enters myth.
So here it is: a first post of the season on Gunnerblog.com. Feels appropriate really: after Alexis and Arsenal burst into life at Leicester, it feels like our 2015/16 campaign has finally started.
Look, I broke my arm alright.
To be perfectly honest, I’d rather look forward to an FA Cup Final than back at a less than inspiring game.
Just like last year, we made hard work of Championship opposition at the semi-final stage. From around the hour-mark, this game really could have gone either way. There was something miraculous about how we navigated the two ties at Wembley last season, and there were times during this match where I wondered if our luck had finally run out.
In my opinion, we underperformed just as badly as Liverpool did in the other semi. Fortunately, our opposition did not have the quality to punish our sloppiness. Pavel Pogrebnyak running at you does not pose quite the same threat as Christian Benteke.
Our disappointing display is in part explained by Arsene Wenger’s decision to rotate the team. That’s not a criticism — I felt the introduction of Wojciech Szczesny, Mathieu Debuchy, Kieran Gibbs and Danny Welbeck made sense. Wenger kept the midfield intact and thus ought to have preserved the core of the side.
However, that theory overlooks quite how integral Olivier Giroud has become to our style of play. Without him as a focal point, our attack looked disjointed. Danny Welbeck took some stick for his performance, but it seemed to me he suffered from playing in a team that had forgotten how to use him. We’re utterly reliant on Giroud at present, and were unable to adapt to a different style of striker.
With the fall-backs faltering, the changes made for a substandard performance. One only hopes there’s not more to it: this extraordinary winning run has to end at some stage. After another drab win at Burnley, it’s hard to escape the suspicion that our form peaked against Liverpool and is now on the wane.
That we made it to the final is largely down to Alexis Sanchez. This was reminiscent of our performances in the first half of the campaign, when we were regularly bailed out by the Chilean’s individual brilliance. Although he was quiet for long periods against Reading, he was still able to provide the two telling moments. When you pay £35 million for a marquee forward, it’s in the hope they’ll deliver when the crunch comes. Sanchez did not disappoint. The Americans would doubtless call him a ‘clutch’ player. I’ll settle for calling him bloody brilliant.
And so it’s Villa in the final. I’m delighted with that: Steven Gerrard’s farewell party would have cast a sentimental shadow over proceedings had Liverpool progressed.
However, Villa also worry me, for one simple reason: I can’t bear the thought of making Tim Sherwood happy. I’ve gone on record in the past stating my belief that Sherwood has the glass-eyed star of a man with more gilets than brain cells. To lose to him would be the ultimate humiliation. Spare me that, Arsenal. Please.
Ps. Listen to this week’s Arsecast Extra for discussions on Szczesny, Debuchy and the game.