Simple Premier League riddle for you - when is beautiful football not beautiful football? Well, assuming the Media love-in with a certain club’s style of play has not escaped your notice, if you didn’t have a clue before Jose took on Arsene, or before Guus locked horns with him, you certainly do now having witnessed another cracking Chelsea result against a Wenger-built side. Yep, the right answer is… when it is played against Arsenal rather than by them. However, before taking the topic further, here’s a little bit of background information for the uninitiated…
For years the immutable truth - that only an Arsene Wenger blessed Arsenal team could produce such a level of beauty - went unchallenged. Except, of course, when it went unfairly challenged on the very canvas upon which their pretty pictures were being painted and then the perpetrators were cast in the role of Luddites in a fun factory, accused of being muscle-bound bullies bent on destroying the vision of loveliness. Facets within the game, such as being able to defend well and curtail in midfield rather than create, took on a kind of bad guy persona within opposition play, whereas in contrast the portrait of Arsene the artist, through his team, allowed such a high degree of self-indulgence it manifested itself in a diabolical disciplinary record for a club that somehow always managed to dip under the radar of Media criticism when it came to its own crimes.
Then along came Mourinho and instead of mere token resistance to the London Arts and Crafts Set we had something of substance that was capable of occasional magnificence. Beauty faded in the presence of the beast, but more importantly, unlike on the Monopoly board, with it went the beauty competition prizes. It was around about this time that Wenger’s further throw of the dice, the perennial promotion of youth, brought forth a few double sixes, gilded the lily and extended his tenure despite no tangible signs of success. Jose’s departure and our failure in the Champions League final [no first win for a London club] papered over further cracks appearing in make-up designed to keep the ever-ageing youngsters looking the part, even if they never actually lived up to their youthful billing in terms of winning trophies.
Hiddink’s arrival hardly helped matters and by the end of last season it was becoming increasingly clear to a vast number of Gooners that their boss might be promoting the beautiful-football-beats-winning philosophy just a tad too much for the club’s best interests, let alone for his own good. By now Wenger’s explanations for defeat resembled a Bumper Book of Excuses that even the Media appeared to be growing tired of, yet throughout it all the ’beautiful football’ tag survived and the Arsenal Raison d’Etre of pass, pass, pass, regardless of eventual outcome, remained a subject to be forever spoken of in reverential tone.
And so to Carlo and his first encounter with the bestest passers the Premiership has ever seen. How on earth would he cope? Perhaps the evidence provided by his new club over the last five years might somehow escape his notice. Then again, maybe his opposite number would try something different this time, bearing in mind pass, pass, pass had been pretty much a piece of p*ss, p*ss, p*ss against us in recent years. In effect, what happened was that Carlo made no diamond concession whatsoever and Arsene, true to form, beliefs or stubborn-streak [call it what you will] went with what had seen him fail so miserably in the past.
The result a forgone conclusion, we were treated to ninety minutes of beautiful passing by Arsenal and plenty of the same from us, without the equivalent hyperbole, naturally. We scored the vital goals, including one that matched any they have scored this season, without the equivalent hyperbole, naturally. We also defended far better than they did, which is why they hardly had a shot, never mind one on target. Mercifully in football, shots on target are more important than beautiful passing, [except in Wengerworld] and having one of those nasty cutting edge thingys called a Drogba also helps, no matter how often certain managers will deny this fact or suggest that other team’s goal scoring is ‘not meant‘, but just luck. This game had very little to do with luck. Ask Carlo and his tried and tested diamond. Ask Arsene and….he’ll tell you different, but these days fewer and fewer people are listening.
For years the immutable truth - that only an Arsene Wenger blessed Arsenal team could produce such a level of beauty - went unchallenged. Except, of course, when it went unfairly challenged on the very canvas upon which their pretty pictures were being painted and then the perpetrators were cast in the role of Luddites in a fun factory, accused of being muscle-bound bullies bent on destroying the vision of loveliness. Facets within the game, such as being able to defend well and curtail in midfield rather than create, took on a kind of bad guy persona within opposition play, whereas in contrast the portrait of Arsene the artist, through his team, allowed such a high degree of self-indulgence it manifested itself in a diabolical disciplinary record for a club that somehow always managed to dip under the radar of Media criticism when it came to its own crimes.
Then along came Mourinho and instead of mere token resistance to the London Arts and Crafts Set we had something of substance that was capable of occasional magnificence. Beauty faded in the presence of the beast, but more importantly, unlike on the Monopoly board, with it went the beauty competition prizes. It was around about this time that Wenger’s further throw of the dice, the perennial promotion of youth, brought forth a few double sixes, gilded the lily and extended his tenure despite no tangible signs of success. Jose’s departure and our failure in the Champions League final [no first win for a London club] papered over further cracks appearing in make-up designed to keep the ever-ageing youngsters looking the part, even if they never actually lived up to their youthful billing in terms of winning trophies.
Hiddink’s arrival hardly helped matters and by the end of last season it was becoming increasingly clear to a vast number of Gooners that their boss might be promoting the beautiful-football-beats-winning philosophy just a tad too much for the club’s best interests, let alone for his own good. By now Wenger’s explanations for defeat resembled a Bumper Book of Excuses that even the Media appeared to be growing tired of, yet throughout it all the ’beautiful football’ tag survived and the Arsenal Raison d’Etre of pass, pass, pass, regardless of eventual outcome, remained a subject to be forever spoken of in reverential tone.
And so to Carlo and his first encounter with the bestest passers the Premiership has ever seen. How on earth would he cope? Perhaps the evidence provided by his new club over the last five years might somehow escape his notice. Then again, maybe his opposite number would try something different this time, bearing in mind pass, pass, pass had been pretty much a piece of p*ss, p*ss, p*ss against us in recent years. In effect, what happened was that Carlo made no diamond concession whatsoever and Arsene, true to form, beliefs or stubborn-streak [call it what you will] went with what had seen him fail so miserably in the past.
The result a forgone conclusion, we were treated to ninety minutes of beautiful passing by Arsenal and plenty of the same from us, without the equivalent hyperbole, naturally. We scored the vital goals, including one that matched any they have scored this season, without the equivalent hyperbole, naturally. We also defended far better than they did, which is why they hardly had a shot, never mind one on target. Mercifully in football, shots on target are more important than beautiful passing, [except in Wengerworld] and having one of those nasty cutting edge thingys called a Drogba also helps, no matter how often certain managers will deny this fact or suggest that other team’s goal scoring is ‘not meant‘, but just luck. This game had very little to do with luck. Ask Carlo and his tried and tested diamond. Ask Arsene and….he’ll tell you different, but these days fewer and fewer people are listening.
