Fozzy 
It seems that most of my online pieces follow on from a dreadful performance, and this one is no exception. However, my iPatch was having its screen hammered with my Match View following the Newcastle game two days ago, but you will have to wait for the next issue of the Gooner mag to read that.
We had a full two days to address at least some of the many mistakes from that game. The fact that we let in three ridiculous goals which all came from the right, where Sagna was found wanting, could have been a good starting point. So, what happened in the 48 hours following the Newcastle game? By the looks of what occurred on the pitch at Southampton, absolutely nothing. Did they all go out on a bender on New Year’s Eve, because that’s what it looked like. I can’t think of any of the outfield players who could hold their heads high after that shambles. If they were on performance-related pay, The Arse would have saved itself a small fortune.
A variety of issues needs to be addressed as a matter of urgency, otherwise you can forget the coveted “fourth place” trophy. Let’s start with Sagna, who was hopelessly off the pace throughout the game. Just what was he doing on the lead-up to their goal? There was the normal calamity of errors by most of the defence before the ball reached Sagna, but all he had to do was to wellie the ball. We all know what happened next. Is Sagna’s sudden dip in form due to the fact that The Ox does not inspire him with confidence? I love The Ox, and have always rated him as being like Walnutt but with skill, but the poor lad has gone noticeably backwards this season with his development.
Let’s now switch to the other flank. Why has nobody taught Gibbs to kick the ball with his right foot? When he is attacking, any wily defender would show him inside, where he is marooned, and in true Denilson-esque style the ball ends up going backwards. Near the end of the match, he had a perfect opportunity to give us an undeserved three points with a right-foot shot, but chose the safer option of a left footed pass and the chance was gone. In front of Gibbs is Podolski, who can best be described as a major flop and is lazy in not tracking back. I have no time for gifted players who are lazy.
Two incidents happened during the three minutes of time added on. Firstly, we had an attacking free-kick. Walnutt stepped up to take it and the ball got no more than two feet off the ground and was cleared by the first defender, which just about summed up Walnutt’s performance. Even the likes of Stoke Rugby Club would have been able to hoof the ball on to one of their attacker’s heads, so why can’t we? Southampton then broke and the Verminator, of all people, was caught dallying and my heart missed more than a beat as they again threatened our goal. Just what has happened to the Verminator this season? I remember a wonderful piece after Kolo Touré had returned from Africa, when The Spy described him as “somebody with two left feet on forty fags a day”. This reminds me of where the Verminator is now. Despite receiving my vote of support as captain at the end of last season, he is not doing the business as either a player or leader.
Let’s face it, we were extremely lucky to come away with a point. The equaliser was a late Christmas present and their disallowed second-half goal was a harsh decision.
Of course, the buck stops with the manager. He had the temerity to say in the post-match interview that “we were not very good”. I could see that by midway through the first half, yet he chose to just sit on the bench and not attempt to inspire the players in front of him. A few weeks ago, a certain Rafael was playing poorly at right-back for ManUre at Reading and, after thirty minutes, the Senile Jock Tyrant had seen enough and pulled him off. What a shame that Wenger didn’t have the balls to follow suit. The long-awaited introduction of Giroud only gave him half an hour to alter the game, which was not enough. The only saving grace was that we were spared from watching Walnutt floundering around up front. Then, with fifteen minutes to go, we saw the mandatory introduction of Clumsey, but with him came an added comedy bonus with the appearance of Eboué-with-a-syrup. All he managed to achieve was to lighten up the home crowd by constantly losing the ball and falling over his own two feet. Perhaps a transfer to Billy Smart’s circus might better suit his “silky skills”? With these two jokers on the pitch, we were effectively reduced to nine men. Wenger, it’s all in your hands. You have a month to sort out this mess and your time starts now.
