Revenge dished out at Wembley
It has been so quiet this week that there has simply been no point in writing anything. I've always said that I won't write merely for the sake of it. Sadly it's a symptom of the fact that we are out of everything already this season. Midweek games are virtually a thing of the past so we have only weekend stuff to look forward to or back on.
As I coudn't get to the game last Saturday through being on nights I had neither the inclination nor the opportunity to preview/review it. What I will say is that it was a nice 4-1 win. Gervinho got one goal and set up two of the others but I'm still at a loss as to why he was starting the game. Credit where it's due, obviously, but I don't understand how Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain wasn't playing from the start as he has looked to be getting back to his best in recent weeks. I also think a midfield of Arteta, Ramsey and Rosicky is not going to do us any good when we come up against Manchester United or Everton (or maybe even West Brom). In the absence of Jack Wilshere and Abou Diaby I would prefer to see Francis Coquelin in midfield with his added pace and willingness to tackle. As for Sagna coming straight in ahead of Jenkinson just don't get me started. It didn't escape my notice that Reading's goal came from a cross that Sagna had allowed to come in all too easily as usual.
As it is so quiet, and it being a special anniversary, I thought I'd re-publish the post as I wrote it from this day last year. I hope you enjoy my recollection of the FA Cup semi-final win over Tottenham at Wembley - twenty years ago today Tony Adams soared above Ruddock to score and give us all the chance to own a ScumBusters shirt. Lovely. I hope you enjoy it:
On 4th April 1993 we descended on Wembley for another FA Cup semi-final against the mugs from White Hart Lane. After what had happened two years previously we had suffered the clowns from down the road and their "we beat the scum 3-1" nonsense non-stop ever since. This was to be our day of revenge and redemption, we hoped.
Travelling up from Dover meant we were always quite early to games at Wembley, whereas the majority of Gooners (in those days, at least) being fairly local would only get there shortly before the kick-off of matches. That being the case we walked around to see the team coach arrive, even though this was at the Spurs end. Back then, for the most part, there wasn't the evil antagonism from their supporters that there is today. Obviously there was a bitter rivalry, but you could happily walk round their end of Wembley that day in your red and white shirt without having to fear a cuff on the side of your head. I remember that, as we stood there waiting for Arsenal to arrive, there was this short, fat woman with short hair and a Tottenham tracksuit standing opposite us. She was only talking to her companions, but had one of those voices that carried a long way. Frankly she came across as a right mouthy cow and typical of every Tottenham fan you've ever had the misfortune to meet. I took an irrational dislike to this woman and her loud proclamations of how we would be beaten.
When we got in the ground we found that our seats were in the second row behind those awful red "buckets" that used to form the front twenty-odd rows at Wembley (we weren't so lucky a fortnight later at the Coca-Cola Cup Final when we were two rows further forward!) When the game started there was no choice but to stand, much like away games these days. Being only 14 at the time, and quite short for my age back then, I couldn't actually claim to have had a great view.
Thinking back we pretty much controlled the game. Apart from an early shot by Samways (whatever happened to Vinny Samways?) that initially went through Seaman's hands, before he recovered to save, and a pretty lame penalty appeal against Linighan (it was outside the box in any case), we were well in charge. The odious Justin Edinburgh and Nayim combined to get Lee Dixon booked (and eventually sent-off and suspended for the League Cup Final a fortnight after) but we controlled midfield with Parlour, Selley and Hillier. Selley hit a cracking volley about twenty minutes from the end that was well saved by Thorstvedt, who also made a great save from an Ian Wright header.
There was probably some poetic justice in Edinburgh making the foul that led to the winning goal that day. I have a vivid recollection of the goal in my mind's eye. It's one of the few things I saw clearly through the heads of the taller people in front of me on the day. I can see the ball coming over and Adams getting up behind Ruddock. I can see the ball bouncing and then hitting the stanchion in the goal. I can then see the pandemonium erupting all around. I was on the end of a row and the celebrations spilled out, naturally, on to the stairwell. I remember the bloke on the opposite side picking me up in celebration (I may have been short but I wasn't "small" so that was no mean feat!) and I remember my brother throwing his arms round me as I came back. What should have been ten minutes of torture became more than fifteen. From absolutely nowhere the referee Phillip Don somehow found a ridiculous amount of injury-time. I remember, right at the death, a cross was deflected in to the six-yard box right in front of me, but David Seaman dived full length to catch it and relieve the final pressure.
When the final whistle went it was a feeling akin to winning the Cup itself. Perhaps if the winning goal in the Final had not been so dramatic then it would have been even better than winning the Cup. We enjoyed a proper Arsenal sing-song at Wembley that day, and the players enjoyed every minute. After the past two years it was a given that the Tottenham fans would get their "scum" chants thrown back with interest. As we left we realised that a number of the Arsenal Reserves were sat a few rows behind us. Among them was the cup-tied Martin Keown - yet to achieve anything like hero-status with a crowd suspicious of why he had been re-signed by George Graham - who gave me a thumbs-up as I shouted at him on the way past.
From all the highlights of that day, and that they stick so vividly with me some nineteen years later is redolent of the fact that this was the first time I'd seen Arsenal win a competitive game at Wembley (I'd seen them thrash Spurs 4-0 in a pre-season tournament in 1988), there is one that kind of sticks out further than the others. As we stood on Wembley Way among the throng trying to get to the trains etc I glanced to the right and saw that gobby cow from before the game. It must have been fated that she should be so close again among a crowd of nearly 80,000 people. My God was she silent as she stood among the smiling Gooners in her Spurs gear. My Dad turned to me and said "not so bloody mouth now, is she?" I enjoyed that.
I hope you liked that trip down my personal memory lane. I know I did. I must dig out the video of that game and watch it some time soon. Just for a bit of fun, listen to this song recorded by one of the fanzines at the end of that season as part of the celebrations.