The first half of last night’s fourth round replay was bad enough. It reminded me (distant memories as I know Ciaran at LBWF relays everything here to my other half) of when you take a girl out for the evening and get every signal that you will be invited in for more than a coffee at the conclusion of the date, only to get the door in your face when you drop her off. All promise and no delivery.

Arsenal’s approach play was something to behold. A thing of beauty. Sumptuous, p*ss-taking. Adebayor’s goal aside, the finishing was kindergarten. I lost count of what I consider gilt-edged chances before the interval, but although we were handing Bolton a football lesson, the scoreline hardly reflected it, and by the half time whistle it could easily have been 1-1.

The second half was worse. Bolton competed a bit better, but the Gunners’ chances were even clearer. I sensed Gilberto was going to miss his spot kick and I hope he has taken his last one for Arsenal. He isn’t up to it. As for Adebayor missing the open goal, well from that point on my heart actually sunk every time we went forward. With Bolton’s equaliser, I just had to walk away from the television and make a phone call to a friend who didn’t give a fig about association football just to calm down and think about something else, delighted not to be watching any more of the fiasco.

Of course you relent, so after ten minutes of extra time I sat back down, slightly surprised the scores were still level and saw that Hoyte and Aliadiere had joined Ljungberg in coming on as subs. Freddie had replaced Alexandr Hleb, who was – in fairness – massive. If people can’t see what he brings to the team after this match, I despair. Anyway, having seen Freddie resemble a dustbin in defence (reflecting the way Bolton had been made to look for most of the first 45), I was not optimistic that the boys could hold out to prevent another Trotters goal, with the attendant sickening Fat Sam celebrations.

Incidentally, to sidetrack for a moment. What is it with the two giant television monitors in the Bolton dugout? Pure Allardyce. Talk about big. Doesn’t Fat Sam trust his own eyes? Couldn’t he make do with a 15” job? Are they there so he can point them out to the fourth official and scream – “look at that and tell that f**king w*nker in the middle through his earpiece to give us a penalty to make up for it!” A part of me wishes he’d got the England job just for the pure amusement value.

So anyway, Freddie, who had done approximately nothing since his arrival (although I’ll grant you there may have been something in the first ten of extra time) pops up to demonstrate the art of shooting at goal. Halle – bloody – lujah. Frankly by this time, I was mentally gone. I did not have it in me to celebrate the goal. I might have muttered something like ‘about bloody time too’ but the rapture that greeted the 13th minute opener was a thing of distant memory. I was a shell-shocked carcass in my armchair. Psychologically taken to the edge and just waiting for someone to prod me over.

To cap it all, the Beast’s penalty. At least Gilberto did not try and right his earlier wrong by having another go. So Baptista. Takes a mean free kick, but anyone remember his spot kick at Anfield? The night he scored four? That one wasn’t converted either. Can you imagine if Arsenal played with such profligacy in the Champions League? They’d be out. Imagine CSKA Moscow in the group stages was a two-legged knockout tie.

Of course, rationally, I should be delighted the boys are through and playing on Saturday lunchtime. And with the passage of time, I probably will be. All that matters in cup football is getting through. But right now, early on Thursday morning, I am still replaying all those misses. And I am not convinced I will ever fully recover. Can any Gunners fan tell me they genuinely enjoyed the events at the Reebok? I’m tempted to watch my next TV game on ceefax. If the boys could hit a cow’s arse with a banjo they’d be a cert for the quadruple. Wenger’s brand of football should come with a government warning - Arsenal are dangerous for your mental health.