Portsmouth 0 Arsenal 0
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It was 4-5-1 versus 4-5-1 and that made it dull.
The Arsenal team that always scores didn’t score at Fratton Park
It finished 0-0 after 94 minutes.
And, let’s face it, that scoreline was no surprise. Four of Portsmouth’s last six home games have been 0-0 and the last time Arsenal failed to score was at Portsmouth on the final day of last season. And who knows better than Tony Adams how Arsene Wenger plays? Lauren knows, Kanu knows, Sol Campbell certainly knows.
So how were Arsenal gonna surprise Pompey?
At first the play was fast and scrappy and, quite soon, I couldn’t see where a goal was coming from. Not with 10 or 12 players in midfield. Arsenal created zilch in the first half and Adebayor was marked out of the game.
At 49 minutes I gave up on Arsenal scoring.
Hleb might open Portsmouth up, but who was sharp enough to score? I lost interest. Even though they’ve scored so many late goals this season, I didn’t see it happening this time.
Then came three chances for Benjani (74), Gallas (88) and Rosicky (93)
Kanu’s pass released Benjani and when Almunia came outside his box, as he had to do, the striker took the ball round the keeper but stumbled, and that allowed the covering Clichy to reach the ball first, despite Benjani fouling Clichy as the left back ran beyond him.
Then Fabregas spotted Gallas and fired a fast pass, an awkward ball which Gallas managed to control. But he took a nanosecond too long and as he spun, and hit his shot over the bar, Sol Campbell gave him a nasty whack on the foot.
Then sub Nicklas Bendtner cut back a lovely pass to Rosicky to give him the best chance of the game. But Rosicky hit it past the far post. Not good enough ! Should do better ! A player of Rosicky’s calibre should be producing 10 goals a season.
Overall, it was a tame game and I was a bit knackered by 9pm, having gone out early to Stamford Bridge for a 1.00 o’clock kick-off with my mate Rob.
Petr Cech had been doubtful with a side injury and we stood behind the goal watching him warm up, as we were sitting in the corner. He was diving to his left and holding the ball but Rob said, “He’s getting up too slowly.” Sure enough, Cech signalled to one of the physios and spoke to him as he rolled his left arm round, windmill-style. We wondered whether the team would be re-announced with Hilario in goal.
In the first nine minutes, referee Phil Dowd got every decision wrong, or so it seemed.
Shaun Maloney scored for Aston Villa, Lampard went off injured with Ballack coming on, Maloney scored again with a tame shot that went in off Cech’s arm as he bent down to gather it. Within seconds, at the other end, Ballack collapsed in the box after minimal contact from Zat Knight, who was sent off, and Shevchenko slotted the penalty to make it 2-1 at half-time.
Then Sheva smashed in one of his trademark 20-yarders for 2-2 and centreback Alex played a one-two with Sheva and buried his shot nicely for 3-2 and then Villa hit a free-kick into the six-yard box and Cech stayed on his line and Martin Laursen shin-volleyed in from three yards for 3-3 and, somewhere amid this mayhem, Carvalho was sent off for an X-certificate two-footed lunge at Agbonlahor, where he might have broken the winger’s leg. Inexplicably, Avram Grant took Sheva off and then Phil Dowd gave a foul on Joe Cole which I didn’t think was a free-kick and Ballack hit it perfectly round the wall into the bottom corner and the fans went wild : 88 minutes, game over, 4-3 to Chelsea.
But no ! A last minute controversy, Ashley Cole was adjudged to have handled, there was a big melee which didn’t quite become a mass brawl, Cole was sent off, three others were booked, and cool, sensible Gareth Barry had to wait a long time before sending Cech the wrong way to make it 4-4 with the last kick of the game.
Eight goals and three red cards – a somewhat bizarre encounter, a weird action-adventure in which Chelsea missed too many of their heroes.
Aston Villa sub Curtis Davies, who replaced Zat Knight, is a player I’d never seen. I’d always wondered if he was good enough to play for Arsenal, as the club had been linked with him many times. Davies has size, pace, some skill. But I’d never judge a defender on part of one game. I can’t say whether Curtis Davies is good or bad.
On this showing, Chelsea will not finish in the top two. For me, Pizarro and Kalou aren’t good enough. Pizarro lost the ball every time he got it. Kalou’s control isn’t tight enough and he misses too many chances.
For their fans, Jose Mourinho’s departure is still a trauma, the absence of Terry and Drogba are two more traumas, SuperFrankie Lampard will be out for a few weeks with a thigh strain, their best defender Carvalho is banned for three games, and Cech has not fully recovered from a traumatic injury and may never play with the same authority again. It seems a bit cliquey, with Joe Cole never passing to Shevchenko, and – if I’m being Superfrank – I wondered how the hell Chelsea have managed to win so many games.
Roman Abramovich’s box, the one under the adidas sign, was empty and locked.
That was my unbiased Boxing Day verdict : I can’t see Chelsea catching Arsenal.
On the day that Arsenal drew 0-0 at Portsmouth, Manchester United won 4-0 at Sunderland and took over on top, one point ahead.
19 games played, 19 to go – United have more shape, more depth, more firepower. They are the better team, as we saw in the 2-2 at the Emirates on November 3.
But that doesn’t mean Manchester United will retain their title. Anything can happen. They have off-days too. Every team has off-days and injuries.
So that’s about it. Hope you’ve had a great Christmas and a relaxing time and enjoyed a break from work.
I had the quietest Christmas Day ever- the phone didn’t ring once. Just the four of us, no interruptions. I only called my youngest brother. My other brother was in Texas, not Colorado, and I didn’t have a number for him. So it was the same day as always, Myles the DJ playing the same old songs: a light breakfast with Sinatra, then Brian Wilson’s All I Want For Christmas, open presents about 11a.m. as Nat King Cole sings Frostie the Snowman, assemble at dining table at 4pm, later than usual, pull crackers, eat roast turkey with only me having bread sauce, start to read Martha Gellhorn, A Life by Caroline Moorhead, a book about a brilliant woman by another brilliant woman. The absolute best time to read a good book is when I know the phone won’t ring.
Still, Christmas Eve was a bit different this year. We went for a walk along the South Bank, where two trumpeters and a conga player played a ripe, ripping Jingle Bells, where skateboarders jumped and whizzed and clattered, framed by a rough blaze of graffiti, had a latte at Starbucks, ambled over the wobbly bridge to join the carol singing in St Paul’s Cathedral.
It’s not every day I hear Mrs Palmer sing Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to a new-born king, backed by a mighty organ, a top choir and 2,500 punters. Heart-warming stuff which helped this atheist to re-kindle the convivial spirit of Christmas. Then we went to a smashing little party that was mostly painters and teachers.
Time now to think about….2008 !!!???