Villa - on the bus. Searching for lighters
Arsenal finally put one of the old demons to bed in a confident win.
But it was not all rainbows and butterflies though.
Depressing first half
The first forty-five minutes were, to put it mildly, deeply uninspiring. Our primary engine—the locomotive force that is Declan Rice—was declared injured and omitted from the matchday squad. Given that Rice is effectively one of the crucial components keeping the machinery from falling apart, and with our right-back options seemingly extinct, we were bracing for a long, cold night. Fortunately, Arteta apparently dabbled in the dark arts to resurrect Jurrien Timber from the treatment table, narrowly avoiding a defensive meltdown. Little did we realize the actual crisis was brewing elsewhere.
The attacking arrangement was, predictably, a carbon copy of the Brighton match. Our first opening arrived when Merino sliced through the defense with surprising grace to find Hincapie, who squared it for Gyokeres. Our new signing responded by adding another entry into his personal diary of missed sitters. We were well aware that heading isn’t exactly his forte, but I hoped that when he finally got away from his guard, he might actually manage to hit the target.
But let us come back to Mikel Merino. He is a lovely footballer with admirable character, grand vision, decent passing range and shooting technique. But he is quite simply too slow for the frantic pace of the Premier League! This has been obvious since his first day in North London. Against a bottom-feeding side that only occasionally remembers to counter-attack, we might get away with it. Against opponents with actual stings in their tails, however, it is simply not good enough.
The second dangerous Villa counter materialized after a 50-meter long ball sailed over Merino’s head, leaving him looking like a confused tourist while Rogers strolled past him. I couldn’t find a snapshot of the moment, but it is a second chance in the Match of the Day highlights if you wish to relive the pain. It is becoming increasingly clear why Merino looks more at home as a number nine; our build-up is quite slow and he isn’t required to actually run back and track his man.
Villa’s initial opportunity came courtesy of Gyokeres wandering into midfield waters where he clearly has no business swimming. Being robbed of the ball was the inevitable result. Considering Viktor’s ball control is among the most questionable in the squad, perhaps he should stick to the final third. He did try to make amends by getting on the end of two crosses, but the back of the net remained strictly off-limits for him.
Much of the first half involved Arsenal building attacks with the blistering speed of a garden snail, while Villa sliced through our center with 40-meter passes. While one can forgive Gabriel for losing his position at times after a month in the shadows, the midfield’s performance was less excusable. Merino was perpetually on the back foot, and Zubimendi—bless him—isn’t quite powerful enough to hold the fort alone. I found myself yearning for Norgaard to provide some structural integrity. The broadcast director even treated us to a close shot of Patrick Vieira in the stands, just to remind us that the only man that can match his kind of physical presence in midfield was ruled out of the squad in the morning.
Our football was of a remarkably low quality, littered with the kind of passing errors that make you question your life choices. Villa were generous enough to spurn their chances, for which we should be eternally grateful. Martin Odegaard’s first-half display was equally anonymous; he was bullied off the ball and failed to provide real sparks. One only needs to look at his pass maps from two halves to see the reality.
In that first period, there were exactly two forward passes of note: the customary ball to Saka and a decent cross to Leandro Trossard. Trossard, to his credit, was the only one showing signs of a pulse, being aggressive and actually attempting to find Gyokeres. It tells you everything that 45% of our attacks went down the left, when our usual matchday number is only around 30%.
The final scare of the half came from another long ball behind the defense to Sancho. Even though he was offside, William Saliba produced a tackle of such world-class quality it almost made the ticket price worth it. Last Saturday it was Raya, today it was Saliba and it would be lovely if someone in the attacking half decided to be world-class for a change. We need the world class actions from players regularly if we want to get over the line.
The only silver lining was that our pressing was actually superior to Villa’s, a fact that would—miraculously—pay dividends after the break.
The great resurrection
After the interval, we witnessed a completely different collective—aggressive, focused, and possessing much determination. I remarked in the preview that Arteta has the special knack for motivating his squads for the “big games,” and this was no exception to the rule. It required one catastrophic half, but the Arsenal we pretend to love was back.
The clown Martinez—who turned out to be a really annoying prick once he departed Arsenal—was finally sanctioned for his antics. Instead of focusing on the actual cross, he was occupied with massaging Gabriel’s jersey during the corner. Our “King of Brazil” maintained his icy composure, which enabled him to deposit the ball into the netting with his thigh following a majestic cross from Saka. The man at fault was Martinez, naturally, but this display of determination from Gabriel has truly ignited the team’s engine.
Our athletes, particularly the captain, became quite riled up. Moments later, he intercepted the ball in the central zone, delivering a through-pass to Zubimendi, who was galloping into the penalty area for a finish of superior quality. One cannot dispute that Zubimendi possesses that “absolute Spanish quality” regarding technical execution. The volley against Forest, the strike today, and that back-heel on Saturday which nearly achieved goal status—these are the hallmarks of a grandmaster.
What I also find pleasing about our new number 36 is his tendency to escalate the intensity of his performances in vital moments. He becomes highly aggressive and adopts the persona of a “risk-taker.” This works well in our favour provided we have another midfielder capable of keeping the central zone together. Declan is that type of midfielder; Merino, unfortunately, is not.
In the opening period, Merino was sufficiently slow with a challenge to earn a yellow card. By the 58th minute, he was tugging at Rogers’ kit after being bypassed once again, and he was remarkably fortunate to remain on the pitch. He ought to have been dismissed, but the referee possessed a “weak outing” on the day, which graciously worked in our favor. I have observed such scenarios numerous times; typically, a great coach senses the peril and initiates a substitution immediately. The next Merino transgression would surely be a red, and that would reside upon Arteta’s conscience.
We possessed Norgaard on the substitute bench, yet Arteta required 14 minutes to finalize this transition. One might deduct two minutes for the goal festivities and the VAR bureaucracy, but those remained twelve minutes of unnecessary hazard when leading by two goals. It was another proof that Arteta can’t let go of his favorites easily and Merino definitely belongs to that group. The Zubimendi-Merino experiment simply does not function in this reality. This is a primary sector where a January loan might be beneficial. Otherwise, we must deploy Norgaard at the 6, accompanied by two attacking-minded companions. Norgaard remains at the base, declining to join the offensive raids, thus ensuring our defensive midfield zone is not entirely vacant.
Our midfield, piloted by Odegaard, continued to manufacture counter-attacks. Suddenly, following a Timber interception, Trossard dispatched another “screamer” into the Villa’s net. The velocity was so absolute that the prick Martinez did not even bother to perform a dive.
For my personal taste, Leo was the “Man of the Match.” His performance remained aggressive throughout the entire ninety-minute duration. He does not permit the opponent to depart with points without putting up a really good fight. Trossard has been our most potent attacking influence this season. I suspect that at 31, Leo recognizes this season as his final opportunity to touch the planet’s most prestigious trophies. After four years of nomadic loans at Belgian clubs unknown to the civilized world, a few years at Genk, and then Brighton, he finally dines with the “big boys” of Europe at Arsenal. This explains why he grinds through every difficult fixture with his teeth. Not long ago, he launched a screamer against Sunderland that deserved to be a winner, and Leo shows no signs of ceasing.
Odegaard also enjoyed a respectable second half. To his credit, he frequently “rides the wave” generated by his teammates or home spectators, though he rarely starts the fire himself—a quality we currently lack. A few minutes later, Jesus—having entered the arena—recorded a fourth goal with another brilliant strike.
I am uncertain if this was a stroke of wit or a tribute to his compatriot Kaka, but it was certainly a memorable celebration. Here’s a similar point about Jesus: he is a magnificent asset for joining a party, but he is rarely the one to actually start it. He frequently increases an existing lead, yet he is rarely the architect of the lead itself. It is a useful quality to have in the squad, but we require “lighters” to start the fire.
Today, the lighter was Gabriel; his character and passion were without peer. However, we cannot survive on defenders carrying the burden on both ends of the grass. Trossard was also a lighter to some degree, but it’s not reliable for a 31-year old to be the solitary carrier. Saka could have established a 5-0 scoreline—a truly “sweet” result—but he failed to convert yet another elementary opportunity.
I have attempted to diagnose Bukayo’s finishing issues. Simply being “out of form” is an insufficient explanation for me. His dribbling is precise, his passing is adequate, and his crossing is perilous (why Odegaard takes set-pieces in Rice’s absence remains a mystery). Why is the finishing so defective? My hypothesis is that the problem is psychological. He senses this team is set up to reach the big heights and desires to be the “main gem” for individual accolades. And to be considered, he needs to put together impressive numbers - for this Arsenal team it means being a top scorer. These anxieties obstruct his natural instinct to score, as he did in previous seasons.
Instead of a five-goal margin, we abandoned our concentration during injury time. Villa enjoyed two “killer moments,” and the contest concluded at 4-1. Perhaps it is too much to request perfection on the 30th of December from the lads. Nevertheless, we are competing against a “scoring machine,” and every goal might be vital come May.
Villa players were rattled after the final whistle, Emery pulled off what is now a legendary post-match interview that reminded me of this classical bit.
After six years is clearly still pissed at our club, Arsenal fans and Arteta to taking over his role and it’s not the end of our story with me. They will try to hurt us at every possible opportunity while he is in charge.
Another record to correct
Our next excursion takes us to the Vitality Stadium—the very theatre where we succumbed 0-2 last season in what was, probably, our most pathetic display of the season. I have observed a few Bournemouth fixtures of late; while they have unfortunately emerged from their October-November slumber, the vulnerabilities remain for all to see.
That being said, that snail-paced nonsense from the first half simply will not suffice. We must construct our attacks with actual speed: switching play abruptly, slicing through the lines with early deliveries, and unsettling defenders with effective dribbling. This is precisely where Bournemouth begins to struggle to keep up. Should you grant them the luxury of retreating into their known positions, given they are a well-drilled team, they will undoubtedly remember how to prevent us from bothering the scoreboard.
Eze has now decorated the bench for another full ninety minutes, which I suspect to become problematic for a man’s confidence. We must grant him a start with some urgency; we really don’t need another player wandering about with that bewildered look, and Bournemouth offers a good opportunity for this. He might be the secret ingredient they haven’t yet developed a muscle memory for—plus, we can always benefit from a slightly less tired Odegaard before the Liverpool clash arrives only three days later.
While we prepare for a grueling trip to the coast, City were anticipated to face one of their rare tough festive fixtures hosting Chelsea. Obviously, Maresca was sacked today with immediate effect, effectively ending any hope of City dropping points. Chelsea were historically a nuisance for them, and Maresca—who, according to the Athletic, spent his spare time whispering to City executives about his availability to succeed Guardiola—would have been terribly motivated to impress his future employers. Now, there won’t even be a “new manager bounce”; it shall be a “I couldn’t care less under a temporary coach” performance. Thus, City receives another free pass this weekend. Nevertheless, we remain in the enviable position of being the masters of our own destiny.
I would like to wish a Happy New Year to my devoted readers! A taxing year lies ahead, but perhaps it might finally grace the history books of Arsenal Football Club. We are still in every competition and sitting quite comfortably at the summit of every table. My thanks to everyone for consuming my ramblings and for the charity of your likes and comments. I appreciate every bit of engagement and encourage you to share your thoughts, even if they are spectacularly wrong and opposite to mine! I wish you all a magnificent year and hope your dreams actually decide to come true!