With our annual pre-season friendly against Barnet taking place on Saturday, some reminiscence from last year - the thoughts that were on my mind as our team took the pitch, the optimism and hope as well as that usual Gooner pessimism (guilty as charged, m’Lord).

The signs were all there for a good game; stale burger buns, confused attendants, that bloody dinosaur waddling about like he owns the place and that suited French bloke who likes kids a lot came out and waved to the crowd, the air was full of pre-season fun and frivolity and I sat at the front, just left of what would be our goal in the first half along with my missus who had borrowed my ’06 Highbury shirt which she wore with poise and confidence in this fraternity of Gooner.

I’d never been to the annual pre-amble with Barnet before so I was looking forward to it, only seeing yer boys (note: spelling is de-rigour) at big ass stadiums is all well and good but being able to be about 10 feet away from Almunia’s sasquatch rump as he hollers orders at a confused and scared looking Hoyte (perhaps nervous that he was being eyed up as a half time snack by the keeper? Oh nope, I’ve just been informed that that is his usual look) is a gift.

So, with a great fanfare and much heralding (supplied by Guns ‘n’ Roses) the game began…

Rather than a match report, which would make your eyes crust over to protect your brain from the boredom, I shall give you some pure, sexy highlights:

I’m a big fan of Sagna and was close enough to see the pet octopus he keeps safe on his head holding on tight as he flew in for the ball time after time, running up the wing like he actually wanted a win.

Bendtner received his usual raptous applause as soon as he took the pitch, flowers being hurled at his feet. Maybe it was these which put him off every time the ball came to him? Did the team tie his shoe laces together as a joke and he just didn’t realise? My God, he helped Barnet out more than Adomah and Yakubu (bless you) combined! Every time he gets the ball he seems to make a great show of it, his holding the ball technique consists of his torso swaying with the breeze while doing windmills with his arms to imply movement, his feet actually do not move at all as the confused opposing player stares at this act and wonders if Bendtner is about to explode. Then the ball is easily taken from him. But this isn’t enough for our dear Nicklas for ninety percent of his passes are directed straight to Barnet’s feet. Oh dear. At one point he fell to the ground, doubled over and no-one battered an eye lid, the players just weaved around him. He could have had a ruptured anus or anything. Poor sod. I feel bad now.

In the first half Barnet were really troubling us, pushing us up against the wall and demanding satisfaction and they got their way with our dignity and undergarments in tatters after Kenny Gillet popped the stale mate from a free kick and we couldn’t do bugger all to respond, other than grumble a bit and write a strongly worded letter to the editor of the Times.

Aaron Ramsey looked alright though, didn’t he?! He flung in some nice balls (ooh-er) that would have been even better if the half that had connected with Arsenal feet had ended with a goal but c’est la vie, if he links up well with Fabregas we could have a groovy midfield indeed.

We did have chances the first half though, it wasn’t all doom and gloom, the one that stands out for me was a quick counter attack from another dangerous looking free kick. Master Walcott received a large chant of ‘Theo! Theo!’ when he came down in to the box to fill it up a bit, this chant made him grin and from that he made a break with the ball. But, alas, no goal came from it. No, that privilege went to the lost son of Homer, Jay Simpson and a fine goal it was too after that French bloke I told you about earlier decided to change the entire team for the second half.

By the point of our equaliser the game had become quite dull, at half time my wife had decided to depart toward the snack bar to get us a couple of hot dogs but the queue was so immense that she fell to her knees and cursed the Gods and came back empty handed but, as the game was pretty crappy, she went out in the second half to get those darn tootin’ heated hounds and she was gone an age, many others thinking the same it would seem. She was gone so long in fact that she missed both of our goals. She heard them both from the snack bar though. Rest assured dear Gooners that I now know her power and whenever we are a goal down I will banish her to the nearest eatery to unleash her two goals upon our enemy!

And so the game drew to a close with a 2-1 win for the Arsenal who came alive in the second half when more of the kiddies took the pitch, which bodes well for the future but what about this season?

I reckon we’ll bring home the FA Cup!

We wait with baited breath….

And so folks, that was my report from one year ago and no, we didn’t bring home the FA Cup but we were close.

The only thing that stands out for me is my mocking of Bendtner who, at this stage of the season, is the player who I think (along with Denílson) has stepped up and improved the most and, dare I say it, had a good season. He did, he’s gonna be good, I can see it and my bile from seasons past toward him has evaporated.

I said at the beginning of the season I’d give him a chance, a clean slate but quickly reneged on that oath and cursed him out violently time and again, the loss at our place to Hull springs to mind as I can recall calling him a very bad word which rhymes with blunt nearly every time he took a touch (as a friend of mine says; he has the first touch of a rapist) and then I happened to meet him after the game after winning the lottery thing on the back of the programmes (yep, someone does win and I got a nice LG phone, ta) and he was one of the nicest people I have happened to chat too. Naturally, I felt guilty but, again naturally, I still called him very bad names at later games.

Still, his form has improved and I think our whole team should be proud as we’re doing things the Arsenal way while fighting against the usual media hate mongering and Man U bum licking ooze dripping from the page and still getting to semis and fighting back against Villa to get fourth place.

It isn’t good enough, obviously but it does show the, oh blimey I’m gonna say it, the mental strength of our team.

OK folks, that’s it for now and maybe we’ll be smiling at our look back after next season when we finish 20 points clear.