I was ten in 1993. The first Arsenal FA Cup Final of my life had been secured via semi final revenge over Spurs. The Donkey won the derby. The fixture list meant we again faced our loathsome neighbours in the league during the week leading up to the big day. Players were rested and Spurs won, but it was insignificant at the time. The Clock End taunted the Spuds with questions of 'What you doing Saturday?' and the result was soon forgotten. It was the last time Spurs won a league game at our place. It was seventeen years ago. Seventeen years of taking the p*ss. The run had to end at some point, but not like this.

When we went two up against Everton the foot came off the pedal. Victory was assumed and we became casual sloppy. The attitude led to Everton scoring what was, thankfully, a consolation. It's the same attitude seen at home to West Brom and Newcastle recently. It was seen at Wigan away last season. You might even trace it back to the 4-4 draw with Spurs and Bentley. It appears when this Arsenal side assume victory. Sometimes it emerges when two goals up, against lesser teams it's sometimes there before a ball is even kicked.

We were brilliant in the first half, Cesc led. Every player gave their all, which, when combined with our obvious talent, inflicts damage. We were clinical. We didn't create a multitude of chances, but we'd taken a two goal lead from those we did. A two goal lead at home against Spurs, with the top of the league calling. Then the casual complacency reared its ugly, lazy head.

The five minutes proceeding Bale's goal didn't see us under immense pressure. Yet there was an air about us witnessed at Goodison. Plenty of the ball seen without emphasising our position of superiority by confirming the result with a third. We took it all too easy. The sloppiness invited Spurs onto us, encouraged by their first attack of the second half drawing blood without them having to draw sweat. It was soft, and we wobbled. The work rate which impressed as went two up then disappeared as we let it slip. We hit the ball long, rarely threatening or keeping hold of the ball long enough to ease the pressure.

So what happened at half time? This is where the game was lost. This is where our effort was left. Our workrate on the changing room floor with the half time oranges. Or modern supplement drinks. Were the team sitting smiling, happy with their first forty-five, back slaps all around, and a gentle 'keep it up' from Arsene, perhaps echoed by Cesc?

Is motivation required to ensure the endeavour remains the same? When Arsenal were winning leagues our teams contained players who could motivate themselves, and those around them. Adams. Vieira. That mould. Arsene didn't need to motivate. With this side he does, and maybe he needs someone alongside side him with that mentality to freshen things up and remind players of their roles.

For all Tony Adams over-philosophised thoughts and piano playing, I'd have loved him to have been in there at half time, geeing up the boys after Arsene had spoken and before they came back out. It might have made a difference.

For it is a strange game where you come away thinking, with painful hindsight, that you might have been better off coming in for half time at 0-0, without the complacency the two goal lead brought. Perhaps the attitude wasn't helped by the fact that none of our players have ever lost at home to Spurs, whilst the reverse fact spurred the Stratford bound mugo's onto chasing victory. And their history. At two down they had nothing to lose. We had it all. A lead, a seventeen year record and the top of the league. Thrown away.

And Chelsea lose again. The league this year is so poor that, despite home defeats to the likes of West Brom, Newcastle and now Spurs, a win next week would still take us top and ease today’s down. Another seventeen years before the next home defeat would put yesterday’s events in a box in the mind’s loft along with the last one in 93. Dusty.

For now the major question remains:

How many times does this side have to suffer the same lesson before it learns?

There can be no bigger wake up call, and Arsene now has a huge job to pick the morale off the floor as we head into another important week.

Seventeen f**kin years.

** For more of my Arsenal based ramblings follow me on Twitter @TheArsenal_