Joe Mardon
It was time to turn back the blue tide. In the early hours of Boxing Day morning a Chelsea uncle suggested they were there for the taking. A general pessimism spread over other Chelsea fans beforehand too. A bad run saw them come into Monday night’s game bereft of the confidence their recent form against The Arsenal ought to have brought.
So Chelsea have been sh*t, but anyone using this point to deduct from the importance of our win can f*** right off. They are the same critics who would've been lauding Chelsea resilience whilst bashing ours, had things gone the other way. It's about f***in’ time. About time we stood up. About time we put in a performance in which our endeavour, work rate, passion and heart matched the undoubted talent that lays within our squad.
Watching the game from the new East Stand, it seemed some kind of lesson had been learned. There were still times you feared Chelsea would score on the break, but they were few and far between, as we played a patient first half, including pressing and the unusual sight of both 'wingers' working both ways on the touchline. The West Londoners, for whom Terry seemed to have special relationship with Clattenberg, soon opted for the preferred route of lumping long to Drogba. The excellent Djourou marshalled him fantastically.
In the extended absence of Vermalen, the Swiss defender has, in my opinion, emerged as the first choice centre half. He's jumped ahead of both summer signings, and thankfully Arsene didn't make the mistake of dropping him as he did for the Spurs game. He was lion. Man of.
Alex Song. Bombing on. I've given him some stick for doing so, despite his rising goal tally. Not after tonight. Both sides of his game were superb. He had already set up a great chance for Van Persie with a delightful lofted pass into the box, before he funnelled a way there himself, and finished clinically into the far corner. In the second half he had the intelligence to realise his primary role of screening the defence was paramount, and did so.
At Stamford Bridge this season we enjoyed most of the ball, before conceding just before the break. It was vital to get our noses in front.
Ashley Cole again took the opportunity to point at that gold badge he's currently wearing on his sleeves, just before we extended our lead to two, and then three nil, shutting the runt up for the rest of the evening.
Both goals came from pressing high up the pitch. Our work rate forced errors from a struggling side. We capitalised. Fully.
Theo Walcott was heavily involved in each, racing away to assist Cesc for the second, before robbing Malouda and playing a one-two with the Spaniard and finishing clinically. Selection justified. Three nil.
It’s worth remembering it was the champions we were beating three nil, even though they hardly looked the part, and their left back had stopped reminding us.
An all too easily won set piece was then scored just as effortlessly by Chelsea, quickly reducing an almost comfortable margin. With thirty minutes left, thoughts returned to that Spurs game, in the minds of the fans, and surely the players too. The situation was handled fantastically. The wobble never set. Flying defensive blocks were made for the cause.
This forgiving league sees us second once more. We're riding steady with plenty left in the tank, with many of our thoroughbreds waiting to peak at just the right time. And Vermaelen to return. Momentum must be added to the obvious confidence the emphatic win brings, and Wigan away looms. Any kind of decent run now could lead Arsene to the greatest of 'I told you so's.'
Such a thought should be a mile off, but hopefully we've turned a corner and the complacent attitude that's seeped out now fades away. As I've said before, this league won't be won by a great side. It doesn't contain one. The side that does might as well be us.
And Jack Wilshire is only eighteen years old.
*Follow more of my Arsenal ramblings on Twitter @TheArsenal_
