Fozzy 
We’ve been waiting since our move from Highbury in the summer of 2006 for this to happen, and when it did, we never saw it coming. For 78 minutes we had witnessed a demonstration from a team who had proved that they are the best club side in the world. What happened next was amazing. The catalyst was Gael Clichy’s right foot. Right in front of me, he produced an inch perfect Vela-esque dink into Percy’s (Robin van Persie) path. We saw Percy’s left foot swing round and a split second later he had twatted the ball home from an impossible angle. Perhaps their keeper showed Percy the inside track, but how ironic it was to see an almost carbon copy of the goal that Barcelona scored against us in Champions League final when Almunia got the blame.
Five minutes later, I have never witnessed such joyous scenes from my position in The Gods at the back of block 103. Two visionary passes, both under pressure, out of defence from Jack to Cesc (what outstanding games they both had), led to Cesc finding Sammy (Samir Nasri). Sammy, who had run his heart out in his first game back after injury, who by then must have been truly knackered, found himself sprinting in space. He held up play long enough for The Dwarf (Arshavin) to provide the magnificent end product.
And we never saw this coming, and it all started with Gael’s right boot. This was only the second time that Gael had done this. Has he been fooling us for all those years? Earlier in the season at home to West Ham he proved that he could kick the ball with his right foot. Gael’s 88th minute curler allowed One Song (Alex) to bundle the ball home for a scrappy 1-0 win.
But back to the game. The first half was compelling. Barcelona always seemed to have an attacking player on either touchline, and they were regular picked out by immaculate passing. Their camouflage green tops made it difficult for me to see where the call was heading until it landed right at their feet. At times it seemed as if they had 15 players on the pitch. The crowd on the far side of the pitch gave a clear indication that their opening goal was offside, and that was compounded by the fact that the goal was not replayed on the big screen. Just like the Everton “goal” a week ago, it was deemed to be a “controversial incident” so they didn’t show the replay until half time. By then the crowd was giving the ref almost the same amount of stick as Messrs Mason, Dowd and Foy in the previous three games. Perhaps that worked in our favour. We were being out-Arsenaled by their incredible one touch passing and movement and we were left to feed on scraps. However, it must have been good to watch because the action filled the bladders of practically all the North Bank blokes and it took me the entire half time break to go for a pee.
We upped the tempo in the second half buoyed on by the crowd. One Song’s early booking meant that he was walking a tightrope. My heart sank when Arsene took him off because I was fully expecting my mate Deckchair (Denilson) to enter the fray. Instead, it was The Dwarf, who was soon to create history. Theo was replaced a few minutes later, who by then had run up more blind alleys than a deranged dustman. He was replaced by Barry (Bentner) who I think only touched the ball once during his 15 minute cameo on the pitch.
As for the rest of the team, they were heroes. All of them. When the ref blew the final whistle I mutter than a single goal would not be enough to see us through, but I was immediately pounced on by my mates who told me to “BELIEVE”!!!!! I hope they are right. Next stop, Leyton Orient.
