Layth Yousif
And so it goes to the last game.
Hands up who knew once we failed to follow up with a second to Poldoski’s 11th minute opener that we would drop deeper and deeper inviting Wigan onto us? Who was also convinced Shaun Maloney’s free kick was going in the net?
Despite Theo Walcott talking of a “Wenger rocket” at half time, the fact is we started the second half poorly with only Szczesny’s strong arm preventing Kone from edging them 2-1 ahead. In the end with 3 goals between the 63rd and 71st minutes we blew away a tired looking Latics team who had run out of energy and adrenaline after their momentous Cup win the three days previously.
Well done to those who stayed behind to cheer the team on in the torrential rain, as well as to pay homage to Cazorla after his four assists. Was it me or did the two lads carrying the banner that simply said “thanks” look like they were in a hurry to get out of the rain? Can’t blame them really. When an officially sanctioned end of season sign reads of gratitude rather than naming an achievement, then I wouldn’t have particularly dawdled carrying such an underwhelming message either.
Anyway, Tuesday night has gone and so have Wigan. A well run club with a decent manager and a football man pulling the strings on transfers. (Didn’t people say that about us a while ago?). I hope they return – although with a myriad of Championship heavyweights lining up for a tilt at promotion next season I think it will be a while.
If a mate had told you as you were drowning your sorrows on the evening of March 3rd that not only would we claw back the eight points on our delightful and dignified neighbours, but a win at Newcastle United on the last day of the season would guarantee a top four finish, you would have feared for their sanity – or at the very least thought it was the booze talking.
While we’re at it can someone tell me that it’s not true that Bale Hotspurs FC has patented his “celebration”? How on earth has he done that by the way? By registering his fingers with the UK Copyright Department? Honestly, even when they think they’re being smart they still end up looking as ridiculous as a particularly cretinous character from Monty Python.
The fact is we are the form team in the division with seven wins and two draws from the last nine, and in terms of Champions League qualification we are what are known in Horse Racing as a Course and Distance winner.
Even Alan Depardieu has “joked” about not caring whether they lose 4-0 this Sunday.
As we all know by now: if only it were so simple.
Nothing The Arsenal do makes for easy viewing these days. And as for the events of Feb 5th 2011, well, if there are any gooners out there who haven’t still got the scars from that hideously awful day then I’d like to meet them. A good mate of mine even missed our first three goals as he climbed that stairway to heaven in the away end which forces unsolicited views of Humberside on visitors, so high are the away seats.
Forget the madness of the 7-3 in December. That was a once in a decade game…or in our case a once every six weeks kind of game if you include the 7-5 League Cup game at Reading. Having attended both of those fixtures I would happily settle for a backs to the wall 1-0 to the Arsenal type victory this Sunday.
Normally our games at St James’s Park are quite tight affairs.
The first time I went to Newcastle was to see a Steve Bould header hit the net in front of 400 screaming loons in the old away pen with the concrete crush barriers in November 88. Unfortunately the noise got drowned out by 30 thousand other screaming loons in the home end.
Does anyone else remember watching nutters in the Gallowgate hurl themselves off those concrete barriers and onto fellow fans heads below, as if they were stage diving? Always thought people from the North East were tough characters in general but back then their support was deranged.
I also remember a last minute, long range Peter Beardsley goal in a 1-0 defeat in March 1995, which he struck from about where the Strawberry Pub is.
I had just spent five bonkers days with a few pals (take a bow Mozzy, The Wiseman and Nige the Cabbie) and various “characters” in and around Auxerre where Wrighty’s cracker had put us through, and had gone straight from that game in middle of France via London and an overnight National Express Coach to Newcastle.
By the 90th minute I was about as sluggish as Vince Bartram was in our goal in attempting to save Quasimodo’s shot. Needless to say I made sure I drowned my sorrows in the Bigg Market that Sunday night. (Incidentally as someone with three young kids, looking back on times like that I find it incredible I could take 7 days off work to spend almost a week on the p*ss in France before heading up to Newcastle to do the same – I can’t even buy a paper these days without asking permission…).
I also saw a flying Wrighty header that won the game for us in Dec 97. Another trip to Geordieland where I drank far too much in the Bigg Market. All I’ll say about that place is if you haven’t been there yet you need to.
I seem to recall a drab 0-0 in our Invincibles season where Wiltord hit the post. A draw that day in April 2004 was enough to keep our glorious unbeaten record going.
