What a lovely attacking display and crucial victory. Consider Arsenal outclassed. But the score line doesn’t reflect the dominance endured by the Gunners. Yet again, we’re left with a slight, lingering sense of what-could-of-been and lost opportunity.
On a different day, our new formation, with Tevez central and R&R on the wings, clinically finishes at least three chances and effectively kills off this tie. Not today, unfortunately.
Much will be written and said about this match because nearly everyone tunes into this stage of the Champions League. Unfortunately, I’ve got work to make-up this evening, and as such, the blogpost is short, as I’ve got a couple of moments to share from watching the game at The Local Pub in Minneapolis…
Immediately after O’Shea scores from the corner-scramble, a few of us sing the entire song “When Johnny goes marching down the wing” still during goal celebrations. Immediately when the song’s complete, there’s a second of semi-quite, and you hear a few Gooner’s simultaneously moan in despair, like scoring the goal wasn’t bad enough. That’s brilliant, that is.
Late on, Arsenal finally has some possession in the United half and numbers moving forward. It looks promising for them, but Wenger’s men pull an “Arsenal” and string together passes, with nobody wanting to make a decisive move forward let alone shoot. We chant “Pass!” and “Pass!” with each olé-like connection, until the inevitable loss of possession comes from passing-off. Now, just imagine the Arsenal fans’ frustrated looks from poking them on their sore-spot. In a word: priceless.
Somehow footy brings out schadenfreude, especially when you watch a match too close, in mixed company, and want to loudly and freely express your United joy.
Let’s hope we don’t rue today’s 1-0 score line during the return leg. We can’t always rely on O’Shea to bail us out.
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