Last night’s clash at the Reebok was a classic example of a football match not being an isolated occasion, and not judged as such, but rather an act in a bigger play, with interpretations not purely taken from the ninety minutes of action, but from the wider context of both clubs.

Taken in isolation, this was a creditable draw away to a Bolton side we have struggled with in the past, at a ground Liverpool got comfortably beaten at recently. We created plenty of chances, hit the frame of the goal twice, saw the opposing goalkeeper have an impressive match, and defensively kept our own clean sheet.

Viewed from that angle, nothing too bad – a match we would usually win, let down by poor finishing and poor luck. One of those days, if you will.

The trouble is, we have a lot of those days, and this wasn’t an isolated occasion. It came off the back of three consecutive defeats, and with Liverpool and Newcastle both winning we found ourselves sitting seventh, being cut further adrift from the Champions League places we so crave. Moreover, the slew of chances missed is a commonplace feature – we are yet to win a Premiership match this season where Van Persie hasn’t scored. He needs help, and when he fails to find the target, the others are not chipping in. Seeing gilt-edged chances go begging is every bit as regular as a defensive mishap. As for the clean sheet, that was partly down to luck too – Ngog missed a sitter and they probably should have had a penalty at the end. We could have lost.

It is extremely frustrating to watch. We have long bemoaned the lack of alternative striking options for Van Persie to rotate with and play off, but not only do we have a serious shortage, it is clear that Wenger himself retains no confidence in those we do have. With Chamakh still absent, Park sat on the bench, and despite our chase for a winning goal, stayed firmly put. Here is a striker in the peak of his career, but unable to get minutes in a team painfully short of numbers in his position. Imagine how painful this is for him.

The race for fourth is an open one – Chelsea, Liverpool and Newcastle are our rivals for the spot, and all of them are dropping points on a regular basis. If we could string any sort of run together, we’d snap the position out of their hands, and generally be a lot happier for it. But we can’t string any sort of run together, certainly not a winning one. Every step forward is followed by a stumble. Can we turn that around and get the five or six wins on the spin that would lift us back above them all? In theory, yes. In practice? It doesn’t look likely.

The weird thing is – I don’t blame the players. The team is pretty solid, all told, but the squad is thin. Our 25 man squad contains seven or eight players that, for one reason or another, Wenger doesn’t trust enough to rotate in and out. The result is that the first team players feature more often than they should, they get tired, and they get injured. Ramsey is the classic example – he is copping a lot of flak this season, but for me, his poorer performances have come when he has been visibly weary. If he were asked to play less often, I really think he would be shining more regularly.

So once again, we are looking forward, hoping that the next match will be the one in which we can gain ground on our rivals. And it should be – with Chelsea, United, Liverpool and Spurs all playing each this weekend, points will be dropped. Meanwhile, we have Blackburn at home. A confident Arsenal side would brush them away, but this is not a confident Arsenal side. Would it really surprise anyone if we struggled?

All season I have been absolutely convinced that we would recover, and go on the run we needed to claim fourth, overtaking sides who, frankly, aren’t that good. But now, I am finally beginning to waver.

Roll on Saturday.

The bare facts make for grim reading. Defeat to United leaves us fifteen points behind them, and eighteen off the pace set by their city rivals. Our own neighbours remain ten points above us despite their loss earlier in the day, and that critical fourth spot is still an elusive five points away. Perhaps more damaging than the numbers is the psychological aspect – a new low between fans and manager erupted in the wake of Oxlade-Chamberlain’s substitution moments after he had set up Van Persie’s equaliser, and the inevitability of their winner made many stop and reassess our own expectations. Anticipating a home defeat is not a happy place to be. Watching it unfold wasn’t much fun either.

I have no doubt that by the morning, or perhaps even by the time you read this, the story will be centred around a couple of flashpoints, and I will get to them in due course. But while Arshavin will be the inevitable fall guy for many, he wasn’t on the pitch in the first half, a forty-five minute period in which we were largely outplayed by a United side that saw our weakness at full back, and attacked it time and time again. The returning Vermaelen was a boost at left back, and as such less targeted by the opposition, but even so he isn’t as dominating there as when he marshals the centre of defence. The other flank was the main issue – poor Djourou was forced to deal with Nani and the overlapping Evra almost single handedly, a job even Sagna would have found difficult. For a reserve centre back, it was too much.

United were uncomplicated in the opening period – they spread the ball wide, overlapped, and swung in whipped crosses time and time again. Largely, Koscielny and Mertesacker dealt with them well, although there was a last ditch nature to some of the defending. But the more often Nani got into crossing positions uninhibited, the more you felt he would pick out a decent delivery in time. Szczesny pulled off a good near post save from the winger, and saw another cross flash past his far post. But on the stroke of half time, the inevitable occurred – Djourou stood off Giggs, allowing him all the time in the world to pick out Valencia at the back post, who stole in ahead of Vermaelen to put the visitors in front. It had been coming.

There were murmurs of dissent at half time, which at the time I didn’t consider to be particularly helpful – it was clear that the team was nervous early on, and booing was hardly conducive to giving them the boost they needed to come out in the second half and take the game by the scruff of the neck. Of course people are entitled to voice their opinions, and it was hardly a majority – the trouble was that the crowd were so oddly quiet at times that even a smattering of boos became the dominant noise.

At half time, Wenger made a brave switch, introducing young Yennaris at right back for the ailing Djourou, and by and large it was vindicated – he wasn’t overawed by his Premiership debut, and handled the occasion well. At the same time, Oxlade-Chamberlain switched wings with Walcott, allowing the more senior of the pair to help his young colleague. While Theo frustrates many with his inconsistent performances going forward, he did show a measure of responsibility in protecting Yennaris, which should not go unnoticed.

We should have been gifted an equaliser early in the second half, when Smalling slipped, allowing Rosicky to burst past him. Perhaps aware of his recent goalscoring record, Rosicky chose not to take the chance himself, squaring instead to Van Persie, who danced inside his man to slam into the barely guarded net. Except, remarkably, he fired wide. Minutes later, the Ox set up Ramsey for a rising drive that flew inches over the bar.

Despite being in the ascendancy, we still had cause for alarm. Welbeck could have gone down under pressure from Mertesacker, but instead ran through to clip past Szczesny, only for the big German to reach out his long legs and clear off the line. Koscielny then brilliantly dispossessed Welbeck before starting the move that would lead to the equaliser – eventually the Ox would cut inside, before finding Van Persie with a clever reverse pass. One swing of his left foot and the match was all square.

And then came the moment that many will remember the game for. With the crowd in full voice, the momentum in our favour, and a spring in our step, Wenger withdrew Oxlade-Chamberlain and put Arshavin on his place. Boos immediately rang out, followed by cheers for the Ox and renewed jeers for Arshavin on his entry. Hardly the sort of reaction that makes a player eager to perform.

Wenger has since said that the Ox had been ill, and was beginning to feel his calf, so was withdrawn as a precaution before he did himself an injury, which seems perfectly reasonable, and backs up something I said on Twitter at the time:

“You know when you’re playing Football Manager, and you take a player off because his energy has dropped, even if playing well? I’m pretty certain we can track these things.”

Having said that, and having accepted that the move had basis in logic, the timing was questionable at best. A young player, who has just set up a goal against United, can run on adrenaline alone for at least five more minutes, a period of time in which we could push home our advantage. Instead, it stopped the game mid-flow, and allowed the opposition to regroup. It also took away the elation in the stands, replacing it with something far more poisonous, an atmosphere that could only give United a lift. A decision based on scientific reasoning backfired because of pure emotion.

Our captain didn’t like it either, although despite the inevitability of his ‘No!!‘ reaction being a huge story in the papers tomorrow, that is something that will surely die down quickly enough within the club – Van Persie will have asked Wenger why he took the Ox off, and the manager will have told him. I suspect that, away from the heat of the moment, it will have been accepted. I highly doubt that will stop a new flurry of ‘Disillusioned Van Persie to leave‘ stories over the next week, however.

It certainly didn’t help that, aside from offering nothing going forward, Arshavin was badly at fault for the eventual winner, turning his back on Valencia as he jinked into the box, and then failing to put in any sort of challenge as he laid it back for Welbeck to bury. The game was up in that moment, and we knew it.

And so to the reaction. Wenger is getting a pasting in some quarters, and while I (and everyone else, to my knowledge) have no problem with a bit of healthy criticism, there are too many out there who are using this as another opportunity to divide the fanbase. You are either for the manager, or against him – there is no middle ground.

Which is frankly ridiculous. Of course there is middle ground. While that substitution can be questioned, along with our first half display, he should be credited with two brave decisions – starting the Ox in the first place, and making the half time switch to bring Yennaris on. For me, there was some good, some bad – as ever, all is not black and white.

What is killing us at the moment is our lack of full backs. Often an undervalued position, it is only now that we are completely devoid of options thanks to an extraordinary sequence of injuries that we realise how crucial they are. They nullify wingers, break forward and allow us to counter at pace and with options, and add to our midfield when in possession, giving us the ability to get through well drilled defences at speed. Without them, we aren’t stopping crosses, and the midfielders are having to drop further back to collect the ball, isolating Van Persie up front. It doesn’t work.

I don’t expect any signings in January – Wenger has already said that we’ll have a couple of players back in ten days, which coincides with our next league game, at the Reebok. But playing four centre backs isn’t the answer either, so I wouldn’t be surprised to see Yennaris follow up today’s debut with a few more appearances. If he doesn’t get crocked in the meantime, of course.

If there is a small crumb of comfort to take, it is that the other results spectacularly went our way. Chelsea drew, while Liverpool, Spurs and Newcastle all lost. In the race for fourth, nothing has really changed, which is something we should all be relieved about – it could have been so much worse. I suspect many would have taken the status quo at the start of the weekend.

We now have a week before our next game, a cup tie against Aston Villa, before February brings our next league fixtures. Three defeats on the spin have been damaging, and we need to put a run together to claim that Champions League spot we so crave. It is very much up for grabs – the teams we are up against look pretty woeful, and a run of four or five wins would surely lift us back up there.

The question is – can we? Come back Bacary.

Two weeks ago, the Arsenal fanbase was pretty content. A win over QPR had lifted us back amongst the top four at the turn of the year, a remarkable turnaround given the position we were in after seven games. At the time, the mental strength was being praised (by all and sundry, not just Wenger), and our chances of retaining a Champions League spot, the primary target after that nightmare August, seemed promising.

Just two games later, the vitriol is back. In the topsy turvy world of football support, particularly on the internet, a team has to be brilliant or terrible, a player either a world beater (or one in the making) or worthy of a public flogging. The manager is either a genius or ripe for the axe. There is no grey, no middle ground, nothing other than the dramatic. Because, after all, the dramatic sells newspapers, gets hits, and provides a satisfying point to a rant in the moments after a disappointing result.

So before getting to the rational, allow me to indulge in the black and white. We were pretty crap today, more so in the second half than the first. In the opening forty-five, I thought us adequate but unspectacular, with Swansea’s excellence being the reason for our difficulties, rather than any lack of application or quality of our own. At half time, I hoped our opponents would fail to maintain their terrific play, but they continued for the full ninety, while our level dropped. The more we pushed forward, the better they defended, and the more they opened us up at the back. Swansea fully deserved their three points today, and it was refreshing to see an opponent approach the game in a free flowing way – no cards were shown throughout, although you could argue that losing that sort of game is a bad sign for us.

Moving on.

Since the full time whistle, the analysis has been strong and vicious. Particular players have had their every trait dissected and criticised, leading to the inevitable conclusion of ‘crap, lazy, overpaid, sell him‘, usually interspersed with at least three words we should always reserve for the opposition. And the end result is always the same – we need to buy X, Y and Z, we need to strengthen in this position, that position. And for me, that is overly simplistic.

We have been educated, largely by the paid press, that transfers are the silver bullet to all problems. Don’t like a player? Sign a replacement. Got a gap in a position? Don’t even think about promoting from within, or altering your formation, buy buy buy. That the media have promoted this is hardly surprising – ‘Arsenal seek to sign £20m replacement for misfiring Arshavin‘ sells far more copies than any attempts to better accommodate players, tactical changes to enhance their effectiveness, or even the player themselves simply improving. And so it is transfers we always read about, from the fanciful to the daft, and the myth that the chequebook is always the way to go is perpetuated.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes you need to buy. Our transfer activity on the final day of August showed that – we obtained the big centre back we needed, to give experience to the back four and keep Squillaci one further step away from appearing, and Arteta’s influence in central midfield cannot be overstated. As for Andre Santos, we’ve missed him greatly despite his short time at the club. Signings can be a great fillip. But they are not the only way.

Take a look at our squad, and count the players that fall into the following criteria : Talented, underachieving. My bet is you’ve named at least three, perhaps more. Given that we have that talent at our disposal, it is not more prudent to focus on getting full value from them, above and beyond bringing in new blood? To all those who keep saying we need to spend thirty, forty, fifty million, I’d counter that if we already have superb players at our club who aren’t performing, is it not a possibility that our problems run a little deeper, and simply adding more of those players may not help?

To give some examples, I’ll pick some names out, starting with the obvious – Andrei Arshavin. He was sixth in the World Player of the Year awards the year before we signed him, and he is often credited with getting us into fourth that season. He has given us unforgettable memories and is clearly a sparkling jewel of a talent. I would go as far as to say that buying a player with a greater level of raw talent would be exceptionally difficult, so if there were any way of getting him back to his best, I’d certainly favour that over buying another. For the record, I think he will leave in the summer, and unlike many, I will be sorry to see him go.

Then there is Chamakh. I recently watched a few of his games from early last season, and was staggered by the contrast with his more recent performances. He was bustling around, powering past defenders and making intelligent runs, and looked a completely different player. Again, this is not a ‘crap’ player as many opine – go watch those games if you want the empirical evidence. But the Chamakh we see now is a shadow of that. If we could get him back to his best, we would again have a player on our hands.

I could go on – we’ve seen Djourou, Diaby and many others show their talent, and at their best they are a force to be reckoned with. But for one reason or another (injury, form, confidence) they are not regular top level contributors. Perhaps they never will be, but before pressing for replacements I would want to know that those potential quality signings would not fall into the same category. We all saw Chamakh for Bordeaux and in his first few months for us – surely the last thing we need is to sign another player of high quality who drops his level enormously a few months later?

Consistency is the key, and consistency is not purely down to the sheer quality of an individual. It is a mental attribute, cultivated over a career. Some players have a headstart on others, so on one hand you could say transfers can help (compare Szczesny to Fabianski for an obvious comparison of mental fortitude), but I have to admit a concern that this Arsenal squad consumes players who previously showed a strong mentality, and weakens them. It is, perhaps, our biggest problem, and one I think needs addressing more urgently than any other.

Put it this way – if we jettison players ruthlessly, replacing them at the drop of a hat, then we are doomed to fail, frankly. Aside from the fact that transfers are expensive – with the agents involved I’d compare it to moving house regularly, where all your money is lost in taxes and fees – we would be competing with clubs far richer than us, on their terms. Chopping and changing is what Chelsea have done since Abramovich arrived – remember Tiago, Crespo, Veron, Shevchenko, Duff, Robben, Del Horno? Lots of quality, all ludicrously expensive, but for one reason or another their Chelsea careers stalled and they were moved on. Chelsea could afford that approach, and the resultant losses, we cannot.

So we cultivate, and that means showing more faith in players than many would. Sometimes, as with Alex Song, it pays off, and sometimes it doesn’t (hello, Aliadiere). But as fans, it means we have a responsibility to show patience too. Take Theo Walcott – a 22 year old still learning his game. Yes, he is fairly experienced now, but he is still 22 years old. How many players of that age have scored 35 goals for their club without playing up front? Or even gained as many assists?

Theo is the classic example of a player built up too soon, raising expectations to a level he could not possibly reach. And then, when he inevitably fails to hit those dizzy heights, he is vilified, destroyed by the press and by fans, and written off. I’ll tell you what I see – an immensely talented young footballer who has improved each year (his stats back this up) and has the mentality to perform on the big occasion. He scored his first goal for Arsenal against Chelsea, in a cup final. He scored again in a win against them last season, and again in the 5-3 triumph at Stamford Bridge. He thrives in the Champions League, inspiring our comeback against Barcelona two years ago – in fact, in the build up to last year’s tie, he was the talk of the Catalan press, not Cesc. It was Theo that was worrying them. And a hattrick for England in Croatia wasn’t half bad either.

Just to be clear – this is a player that a lot of fans want replaced and/or shipped out. Yes, he has facets of his game to improve, and at his age he should. But he seems down to earth, his game is improving, and he is already way beyond most at his age. Why on earth do people want him gone?

I can see the beginnings of the same pattern with Oxlade-Chamberlain. He should be nothing more than a peripheral player for the next two or three years – anything more and he is doing exceptionally well. But I am willing to bet that he will be criticised before the end of this season for a lack of end product, despite his tender age. And we are the ones creating these ridiculous expectations by building a player up to mythical proportions, and calling on his inclusion into the first team far too soon. Can you see where this is going?

So how does this all relate to today’s game? It means we need to lay off Walcott, Ramsey, Miquel and others – players who are young, working hard and showing immense promise. Enough vilification, enough vitriol, enough hate. It helps no-one. There are areas of the squad we need to improve, positions we do need reinforcements, but we have to set more realistic expectations of the ones we have, and stop destroying them when they fail to meet them. As long as they put everything into it, I will have no complaints, and nor should you.

Save your anger for the lazy ones.

Today was a bad day. We were poor, and Swansea fully exploited that with a superb performance. But much as we weren’t going to win the league two weeks ago, we don’t need a complete overhaul now.

Find the unspectacular middle ground. It is where the truth lies.

Moreover, it denied Leeds a replay that their play probably deserved, but one that would have caused us an enormous headache. Already struggling with injuries, particularly in defence, the game would have been sandwiched between a tricky trip to Swansea and our clash with Man Utd at the Grove. One we could certainly do without.

It was a remarkable night, topped off by a display of raw emotion that told us everything we needed to know about Henry’s return – this is no ego trip, no pointless and distracting swansong. This is simply a man looking to help. And help, he already has, quite spectacularly.

It also takes the heat off Van Persie, to an extent. While we know that Henry will be limited to cameo appearances, probably exclusively from the bench, it does mean that we carry a striking threat when the Dutchman has one of his rare misfiring days. Not only that, but his threat is wildly different. Where Van Persie is explosive, Henry is more subtle now. Where Van Persie comes back to collect the ball and surge forward, Henry looks to sneak in behind. But both, crucially, know when to make the runs and how to finish, two attributes that Chamakh in particular appears to have lost.

I recently watched some of the Moroccan’s early games from the start of last season, and the contrast was extraordinary. He was on his toes, hustling around, making intelligent runs and scaring the life out of defences. Where has that Chamakh gone? Those games give you all the evidence you need that he is not the crap player many label him as, but someone who has spectacularly lost his way. Perhaps a month away with invigorate him again, perhaps not, but the extra option, particularly a legendary Frenchman whose mere presence worries opponents, cannot hurt.

It must be refreshing for Van Persie to be out of the limelight for a week. By the time the Swansea game rolls around, he will have had thirteen days to recharge his batteries for a month of awkward fixtures, and we haven’t suffered in his absence. Swansea and Man Utd are followed by Villa in the cup, Bolton and Blackburn in the league, and then a rejuvenated Sunderland. Following that are four games that could define the season – Milan, Spurs, Liverpool and Milan again. The latter two come after Henry returns to the States – we need Robin rested, fit and firing.

Of course Henry has received all the plaudits this week, but it is certainly worth mentioning that Song, Ramsey and Miquel were excellent the other night, and the Ox continued to show his raw potential, even if those calling for him to be playing regular first team football are perhaps a little premature. Piece by piece, our team is knitting together, with the returns of Sagna, Wilshere and Vermaelen now crucial. The future looks bright.

Amazing what a legend, a goal, and a smile can do for a mood.

It is always difficult to write a match report after a game like this. I was tempted to pen my thoughts in the immediate aftermath, but decided to let the game settle a little and write in the morning. In truth, my thoughts haven’t really changed. Given that both sides played superbly for one half, and pretty abysmally for the other, and given that both sides missed some golden chances in their good half, a draw would probably have been a fair result, even though it would have been a source of frustration for us, as the equaliser came so late. A loss, on the other hand, is hard to take.

It had started so well. We were carving Fulham up from the first minute, and had Gervinho or Walcott had their finishing boots on (or their ‘final ball’ boots, at least), we could have been out of sight after half an hour. As it was, we led through Koscielny’s header, after he was left alone to turn home Ramsey’s deflected cross from eight yards. Moments later, Stockdale pulled off a pair of remarkable saves to keep the lead at one, and despite slicing through the opposition at will, we couldn’t add to our tally. It is a familiar script, and given the nerves that it creates amongst the fans, the players must feel it too.

Fulham had their moments, particularly through the dangerous Ruiz, but were a changed team in the second half, showing a greater sense of urgency and more discipline at the back. As they improved, we regressed, energy seeming to drain away from the majority of the players, and Fulham began to peg us back. Senderos and Dempsey both missed glorious chances to level the match, and at the other end our previously incisive passing was going further and further astray.

With ten minutes to go, we went down a man. Djourou, already booked (and unlike Wenger, I thought his first yellow was warranted), put his hand on Zamora’s shoulder, who went down in all his Heskey glory. The dive was bought, and Lee Probert, who had previously kept his whistle down and his cards in his pocket, often to ridiculous extremes, produced another card. After that, an equaliser was almost inevitable, and when Szczesny flapped, Senderos headed the ball across goal to Sidwell, who buried the chance. That two former Arsenal men combined for the goal just added a bit of salt to the wound.

At that point, I was frustrated, but aware enough to accept that Fulham had done enough to warrant a point. Not three, though, but that’s what they got in the dying seconds when Squillaci’s defensive header fell to the unmarked Zamora, who finished emphatically. I’ve seen many blaming Squillaci for the goal, but he did his job in the build up more than many – I’d question why Zamora had so much space, ten yards out, when the ball dropped.

It was a cruel blow, and doubly frustrating given that we should have been out of sight in the first half. We wasted so many glorious positions that we really only have ourselves to blame. Having said that, we were once again the victim of some atrocious refereeing at times, and I don’t even mean the penalty shouts, of which there were two – Gervinho tripped early on and Van Persie unceremoniously shoved over in the second half. On first viewing, I thought neither were spot kicks, and required replays to indicate that my initial assessment had been wrong, so I don’t level too much at the referee for those, as they don’t get that benefit. Nevertheless, we have now been denied five penalties in three games, which is bringing back concerning memories of the six months following Eduardo and Celtic.

But more than that, Probert’s display was just home-friendly in the extreme. After a reasonable first half (aside from the Gervinho penalty), he allowed Fulham to get away with a wrestling display in the second. I rewatched the second half again after the match had finished, to see just how many times Van Persie was dumped to the floor having gained possession, and I counted seven. Seven occasions our captain was hauled down, and not once did he get a free kick. It was bizarre to watch, and you could see him getting more and more frustrated. Elsewhere, Riise sent Walcott flying into the advertising boards with a clear two handed shove, and then calmly carried on as if nothing had happened. Probert wasn’t quite Atwell of last week, but it is getting annoying to be talking about referees every single game. Wenger was visibly angered after the game, and understandably so – to see Djourou get a second yellow for an offence far lighter than what he had allowed Fulham to get away with throughout was mind boggling.

That said, we can only control our performance, and we had enough opportunities to put the game to bed long before that. I actually feel a little for Gervinho, who I think comes in for a lot of unfair stick – his final ball and finishing was pretty woeful yesterday, but that was only exacerbated by the number of times he got into great positions. It always frustrates me that players who have exemplary off the ball running skills (as he does) are lambasted more than players who never make those runs in the first place. You always hear ‘give X those opportunities and he would score‘, which is disingenuous as X doesn’t make his excellent runs. Of course I am frustrated by his end product, but I’d rather he got into those positions and fluffed them than was anonymous. It means he is halfway there.

Elsewhere, there were other positives. At the back, Koscielny put in another masterclass, but I’d like to give a hand to Coquelin, who filled in at left back and was targeted by Fulham as our weak link (understandably). Despite being up against the bright Ruiz, he did very well, his only blemish being his positional error for Zamora’s winner. A costly blemish, sure, but one you cannot blame a right footed midfielder for.

Despite the late goals, I was more concerned about the attack yesterday, but not the individuals themselves. Van Persie and Arteta in particular look exhausted, so the issue is not so much their quality as the paucity of their replacements. Were our injuries to clear up, Coquelin and Wilshere could bolster our central midfield options, but despite the imminent loan re-signing of Henry, Van Persie needs support.

But more than that, some of those players need a rest. With seven days before a Leeds tie that will see further rotation, they will get it.

Not the best start to 2012. But we move on.

This week, the grisly details of Abou Diaby’s ankle injury:

May 1st 2006. Injury time at the Stadium of Light. Arsenal lead Sunderland 3-0.  Dan Smith hits Abou  Diaby hard with an over-the-ball challenge, studs down onto his right shin, just above the ankle. It is immediately obvious something is wrong but somehow Diaby manages to limp off, his right foot hanging at an odd angle as the physio helps him to the sidelines.

In the media furore that follows, the usual dialogue takes place; one side deplores the “horrendous” tackle, the other insists “he’s not that kind of player“. That’s all been debated ad nauseum, and my aim isn’t to go into that but rather to look at the impact this has had on what was a blossoming career.

Diaby suffered a fracture dislocation of his right ankle. It is common in these injuries for both tibia and fibula to break, sometimes in several areas. We don’t know the exact details, as football clubs rarely release them – it is, after all, confidential patient information. When the ankle dislocates there is trauma to the surrounding ligaments as well as the bone and ankle joint. The pictures below show normal anatomy (A and B) and potential effects of a fracture dislocation (C and D).

A) Normal X-ray

B) Ankle bones and ligaments

C) Ankle Dislocation

D) Fracture of tibia and fibula

In Diaby’s case, he had three separate surgeries to repair his injury. It is likely that this included an ORIF (Open Reduction Internal Fixation) of some description, depending on the nature of his injury.

I see these fractures regularly where I work as a physiotherapist, and they can be challenging to rehab. The nature of the trauma causes a lot of swelling and stiffness in the ankle joint. It is quite rare for a patient to recover 100% range of movement in the ankle, even with intensive treatment. The fact that Diaby was able to return to action nine months later is a great credit to Arsenal’s excellent medical team. He made 28 appearances in all competitions in 2007-2008 and by 2009-2010 that number rose to 40, before he featured for France in their disappointing 2010 World Cup. But that doesn’t tell the whole story. Diaby has reportedly had 29 injuries since 2006. On average a player would expect two injuries per season. He has, on average, had around five per year and faced lengthy layoffs, playing just 20 times in 2010-2011 and featuring just twice this season.

Diaby’s most recent absence has been down to the surgery he had on his ankle this summer. Again few details have been released by the club, but it is possible he had the original metalwork removed, as this can cause problems. That said, professional footballers often have this removed at a much earlier stage. On returning to action Diaby has picked up a hamstring problem that has ruled him out again. I can only imagine how frustrating that must be for him.

It is easy for us as Arsenal fans to criticise Diaby or the Arsenal medical team for his repeated injuries. Many have the attitude that we should “get rid“. I think though that the blame lays clearly at the severity of the initial injury and not its management or Diaby’s ineptitude. Or blame John Terry. Maybe Diaby re-injured his ankle when he volleyed Terry’s hideous concrete block of head?

Kicking racism out of football

Dorsiflexion

Rarely do you feel so positive after a defeat. Improved form, a greater sense of team spirit and unity, and perhaps a slight readjustment of fan expectation has mended a lot of the bridges between the club and the supporters since our last trip to Manchester, and despite tasting defeat in the league again there yesterday, none of that will have been sullied thanks to a terrific performance that deserved more than it got.

Most of the recent clashes between the clubs have been dull affairs, and even the Carling Cup tie a few weeks back was devoid of real entertainment. But yesterday was entirely different – a basketball match played out between two teams attacking at will, and with an intensity that ensures that both should end the season in decent positions. City again came out on top, but they had to work far harder for it than in the majority of their games this season – remember this is the team that put six past United and five past Spurs. They average around three a game, but despite our patched up defence, packed with centre halves, we held them at bay valiantly.

They had chances of course – aside from Silva’s winning goal, Zabaleta struck the post, Szczesny saved superbly from Balotelli and Aguero missed a great chance early on. And with the chance to seal the game with a simple pass for a Balotelli tap in, Nasri woefully overhit an assist even Eddie McGoldrick wouldn’t have got wrong. Thanks for the millions, fellas.

But we caused plenty of problems too – Hart was forced into a couple of terrific saves from Gervinho and Ramsey, and later Walcott and Van Persie stung his fingers. Late on, Vermaelen had two terrific efforts that could easily have seen us snatch the point we probably deserved, and were it not for a marginal (but correct) offside flag, Van Persie would have levelled.

We also had a strong penalty appeal when Richards handled in the box, but to be honest I didn’t think it warranted a spot kick. The rule these days seems to be all about arm position, and his were firmly down by his side, so despite the phrase ‘seen them given‘ being tailor made for the incident, I think it would have been a soft one. The trouble is that the handball rule has become a little like the offside rule – the laws keep changing, no-one knows what they are and every referee applies them differently.

Phil Dowd, as ever, had a mixed game. His yellow cards were often bizarre, both in their presence and how he followed one up by ignoring the exact same foul by someone else, but in fairness the big decisions were correct. He also resisted City’s attempts to get Song and Arteta sent off when first Richards and then Barry realised they were going into challenges with carded players and flung themselves to the ground. It was a tactic that does City no favours – an excellent side they are turning out to be, and a club that I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for (largely because of a good mate who suffered through every moment of their yo-yoing through divisions), but since gaining riches they have also developed a cynical side. Not pleasant, but perhaps inevitable.

But credit where it is due – not many teams would have kept a clean sheet against us yesterday, or indeed beaten us, and if they continue that form they could well lift the league title at the end of the season, no matter what that means for the soul of football.

As for us, we still have some work to do – Djourou’s injury means we’re struggling even more for fit defenders, and with Arshavin and Chamakh continuing their struggles, our options from the bench are sadly limited at the moment – but we should take an enormous amount of encouragement from what was a terrific display.

Continue in that vein, and we’ll be absolutely fine.

“Seriously mate, this one’s different. The bloke makes sense, cuts the bullshit, and is hilarious.”

“Actually hilarious? Or Soccer AM ‘hilarious’?”

“He’s giving away prizes on his site. The question you have to answer is: Is Didier Drogba a) a cunt or b) a cunt”

My curiosity was piqued.

The next day was a slow one at work, and I thought back to the night before, and the site Tom had mentioned. Why not, I thought, and typed ‘arseblog‘ into Google. Arseblog – it’s fuckin’ excellent appeared as the first result. My thoughts switched to Freddie Ljungberg and I chuckled inwardly at the reference. It was the be the first of many.

I clicked, and read. And then I read some more, scrolling back through older pieces, laughing at the highlighted jokes that appeared when you hovered over links, at the biting comments made towards unsavoury opposition, and the general tone of light hearted merriment, clearly written by someone used to cutting through the crap he read everywhere else. I loved it.

The next day, I read again. And the next day, and the one after that. In fact, over 2500 days have passed since then, which represents a ridiculous number of articles, yet I, along with many others, have lapped up every one. After a few days, I started to wonder if there were others like it, and came across another few blogs of quality, notably Goodplaya, Gunnerblog, Goonerholic and East Lower, or Man From East Lower as he was then. Remarkably, that select group still produces quality content to this day, and have since been joined by many others.

I was hooked. More blogs began to spring up, and I kept adding them to my list. Some began to irritate me, and tempt me into writing responses in the comments, but I’ve never really been one to write scathing replies to obviously antagonistic content. I’m not a biter, I suppose, so instead they dropped off my list, and I returned to the tried and tested group. I started to interact with them, commenting and debating where I could, and as the months passed, I realised it would be far easier if I just wrote my own opinions in one place. Perhaps, blogging would be for me?

My wife was all for the idea, but I suspect that had more to do with the fact that if I had somewhere to write, I would spend less time boring her with my opinions (she doesn’t care much for the game, her desire to see Arsenal win is driven more by wanting me to be in a good mood). She also named the site – coming up with what I thought was a clever play on ‘the beautiful game‘ and my constant rants about it. Since then, others have told me that The Beautiful Groan actually sounds like a bad porn film. You win some, you lose some.

And so this site was born (or at least, a previous incarnation of it). For nearly five years I’ve been penning my thoughts here, and like many other bloggers, there have been times of regular articles, and lean periods. In fact, my current count of 713 pieces means that there have been over 1000 days on which I’ve written nothing. Meanwhile, in nearly ten years Arseblog has barely skipped a beat, which no matter what the man himself modestly says, is an extraordinary display of commitment.

On Wednesday night, the crowds were out in full to celebrate that commitment, arriving in droves to get their hands on his new book, So Paddy Got Up, complete with contributions from a veritable who’s who of journalists, bloggers and passionate fans. The sight of queues winding round the pub and out the door was one to behold, but at the other end of the line was a shiny new hardback anthology, a group of contributors willing to spend hours signing each copy, and of course the man himself, whose arm probably wanted to drop off after hundreds of handshakes and scribbles.

What made the evening particularly great was that the characters there were exactly as you would imagine them to be if, like me, you had never met the majority. From the professionals – Philippe Auclair, whose passion for the game soaked every one of his words, and Amy Lawrence, whose inability to hide her love of Arsenal was touching to listen to – to the bloggers – Tim Stillman (handsome bastard – Arseblog columnist), Siân Ranscombe (smiley, sharply dressed, blogs here) and the cheerful legend that is the ‘holic – they were all friendly, warm and genuine, even when meeting their hundredth stranger of the evening.

I remember at one point shooting the breeze with the ‘holic, Amy Lawrence and Tayo Popoola, blogging/writing/podcasting royalty all, and despite me feeling like a Fiesta parked between a Jaguar and an Aston Martin, they were wonderfully engaging and as entertaining as you would expect and hope. It genuinely was a pleasure to meet every single one of you. There were many more I missed, but it was a superb evening overall, not even spoilt when some arsehole decided to swipe my book after I put it down for a matter of seconds at the bar. To lose a few of the signatures was annoying, but some were willing to ink the second copy I soon replaced it with. And even Tom, who pointed me towards Arseblog all those years ago, came along for a few jars and a catch up.

If all this sounds a bit overly sycophantic, then I apologise, but frankly, we support the best club in the world, and have the best fans in the world, so it was inevitable I was going to love the lot of them. Of course, with both Manchester clubs adding to the occasion by crashing out of the Champions League on the big screens, a multitude of cheers rang round the pub at regular intervals, complete with a variety of entertaining chants, some more repeatable than others. ‘You’re getting Stoke in the next round’ was my personal favourite, even if technically incorrect as English sides will be kept apart for another round. Accuracy is overrated, though, when there are so many laughs on offer. Suffice to say Samir Nasri was the recipient of a few ditties, too.

And what of the man himself, and his book? All I can say is that I hope the turnout and the chants of ‘we’ve only come to see the blogger‘ made him realise the beast he has created, if he hadn’t already. It is surely no coincidence that the club with the earliest top level blogger has ended up as the club with the most online writers. One drives and inspires the other. I’ll be interested to know how many new blogs spring up over the next couple of weeks – it was the sort of evening that makes you want to raise your writing game a little. I’m not claiming for a moment that I’ll suddenly switch to writing every day – I have no idea how he does that, but you can expect a little more regularity.

The book itself is spellbindingly brilliant, with each contributor having their own angle, their own story, and their own writing style. If you weren’t at the launch night, I seriously urge you to pick up a copy, either this weekend, or online. You won’t regret it, trust me.

But overall, I just want to tip my hat to the man who started one hell of a movement. From one blogger to another, from one fan to another, congratulations to the one and only Arseblogger. You deserve it, my friend.

It seems the knives are out again. Described as Euro flops in some quarters, and a laughing stock in others, it seems many of the press are finally able to pull the trigger on the negative stories they’ve been unable to run over the past month, thanks to our improved form. Never mind the fact that we qualified on matchday five, as group winners, and never mind the fact that our second string was up against a motivated Olympiakos who knew that victory was their only chance of progression, it was time to sharpen the knives and mention the C word. Crisis.

Some crisis.

Last night’s display was, for the most part, pretty abject – there’s no getting away from that. But the Greeks are a tough nut to crack even if you face them at full strength, so to take a mixture of kids and out of favour squad players, and expect them to breeze through, was optimistic in the extreme. Having said that, it is certainly fair to ask for a little more than we got last night, particularly from some of the more experienced figures. Arshavin cannot seem to shake himself out of his current stupor, but his misplaced passes are now being combined with a sulky demeanour which doesn’t inspire confidence that he will improve anytime soon. That could be important – with Gervinho absent in January, he is likely to play a decent number of games, and we cannot afford passengers. Concerning.

Going forward, we generally looked fairly impotent. A few decent chances were carved, but we weren’t seriously threatening. At the other end, we seemed determined to concede at times, and unfortunately, we have to focus yet again on the goalkeeping. Fabianski was erratic, to say the very least, and imbued the rest of the defence (even the normally ice cool Vermaelen) with uncertainty, and hardly covered himself in glory for the opening goal. But worse was to follow after he went off injured. Mannone replaced him, and suffered a moment that will be replayed indefinitely – having done well to come out of his area and head the ball away, the resultant pot shot could have been caught, but sadly he completely lost his bearings, failing to realise he was back in his area, and instead attempted an ambitious scissor kick that hit nothing but air. The ball trickled slowly into the net, and his confidence visibly sapped.

Despite Benayoun’s excellent goal, we never really looked like getting back on terms, and their late third was deserved, even if their celebrations were soon cut short by Marseille’s late double in Dortmund. It wasn’t a performance that will live long in the memory, at least for the right reasons, but you can at least hope that some of the younger players will learn from the experience.

Of greater concern were the performances of the seniors, for whom such a lesson should be unnecessary. Squillaci looked like a man previously frozen out, while Chamakh still looks as impotent in and around the area as he looks decent in the build up (his hold up play is actually pretty good). Chamakh in particular may yet be an important cog in the season, but on current form he is a rusty one at best.

But it is easy to forget that we had already won the group. Sky Sports certainly managed it, claiming we were ‘lucky we had already qualified’. Perhaps they should consider that we might have fielded a stronger team had we not? Morons.

In any case, through we go, although so far our group winning achievement isn’t guaranteed to give us an easy draw. Zenit, AC Milan and Bayer Leverkusen are potential opponents, with more to arrive tonight. But for now, forget the criticism. We’re through.

——

In other news, tonight sees the launch of the Arseblog Book – So Paddy Got Up, which has a long and distinguished list of contributors. I’ll be going along to the launch itself, which is in the Tollington Pub on Hornsey Road, at 7 tonight, so if you are heading along, say hi.

When you reel off the names, the six year trophy hunt is a little baffling. We aren’t Liverpool – look at their teamsheet and ‘mediocre’ is the word that pops out. Against Fulham, their midfield contained the less than inspiring names of Adam, Spearing and Henderson – hardly a frightening force, even when you take their respective visages into account. We genuinely have had world class players, but for whatever reason something hasn’t clicked since the Invincibles disbanded.

This year, a case could be made that the overall quality of our squad is down – it is certainly an argument the pundits make. Personally, I’m not convinced – we may have lost Cesc and a bottler, but we’ve gained in other areas, particularly defensively, and the added experience of many of the younger players bridges that particular gap. However, it is probably fair to say that man for man, our individuals may not scare teams as they used to.

Yet something feels more positive. The atmosphere around the club is much improved from the poisonous nature of a couple of months ago (of course we are winning, which helps, but something more fundamental seems to have changed), there is a greater unity within the club, and the players are less inclined to wallow in the more negative moments – we’ve conceded the first goal a few times of late, only to come back impressively, a trait that we lacked up until recently.

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what has made the players seem more driven, more positive and more willing to fight, and also why the fans are suddenly so much calmer and able to forgive the bad moments. Six weeks ago, the Fulham draw would have resulted in a cacophony of boos, but was instead met with an understanding shrug. Quite the contrast. And I think I know why.

For all the talent in the club, there has been a feeling over the last few years that some players haven’t known the value of pulling on the Arsenal shirt, or at least they haven’t always shown it on the field. They may be motivated players, talented players, but that stops a little way short of what we have now – fans playing for the club.

Consider our spine. Szczesny hadn’t made his Premiership debut this time last season, yet is now a firm favourite with every one of us. Antics such as leading the crowd in a song last weekend, and his constant Chelsea and Spurs baiting on Twitter certainly help, but you can also see the pride he takes from being Arsenal’s number one, and how it hurts him personally when we’re struggling. He cares. It makes him feel like one of us, because in a way he is like one of us. Only better at football.

In front of him you have Vermaelen, who is furious when we concede a late goal in a 5-1 victory, and passionate enough to be determined to haul us back into the game after he scores an own goal. He simply refuses to lose, to give up, or to give anything less than his maximum for the club. And he doesn’t tolerate excuses, from himself or anyone else.

Further forward, and you find more of the young players who grew up with Arsenal in their blood. Jack Wilshere has been with the club from the age of eight, and without wishing to coin a painful phrase, has Arsenal DNA coursing through his veins. He also happens to be the brightest English prospect of a generation. And ours. But you don’t have to be English to be emotionally tied – for evidence of that, take one Emmanuel Frimpong. Ghana-born he may be, but he is Arsenal through and through – he joined the club when he was nine, and has progressed all the way through the youth ranks, determined to represent the club he loves. His anger at Nasri’s behaviour shows where his loyalties lie.

At the tip of the spine, we have Robin Van Persie, the most freescoring forward outside the unbalanced Spanish league. Feyenoord may be his first love, but Arsenal is his second, and unlike the Cesc situation, a return to his homeland would not be the final step to the top of the mountain. Right now, he is adored by the fans of a club he fights tooth and nail for, and one he is proud captain of. It still annoys me that many doubt his commitment, despite every one of his actions countering that assertion.

When fans get the feeling that the players do not care, or are going through the motions, we get angry. We yell at them and cannot understand why anyone in such a privileged position would give anything less than their all. But it is different with the current crop – for many of these players, success would be less sweet if tasted anywhere other than at home. And their home is the same as our home. The Arsenal.

We love them. They love us. The ties are stronger.