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.

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.

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.

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.

You should never get ahead of yourself in football. Sing the praises of a team too early, and they can fade away and make you seem foolish (see the pundits handing Chelsea the title after five games of last season). Similarly, write any top team off at your peril. Three months ago, we were ‘in a relegation battle’, having lost heavily at Old Trafford. Without Cesc and Nasri we had lost all creativity and our defence was falling apart. Wenger himself was under pressure, and the Kroenke regime was being written off before it had barely begun.

At least, that’s what the kneejerking story-busters told us.

Since the Blackburn defeat, we’ve won 11 out of 13, with the draw with Marseille and the derby defeat the only blips on that road. We’ve clambered our way back into contention for the Champions League spots (in fact, surely if Chelsea are still in the title race, we are too), and last night became the first Premiership side to reach the Champions League knockout stages, a feat that has now been achieved twelve years in succession. To top it off, Marseille’s defeat at home to Olympiakos means we top the group no matter what happens in our final game.

To put that into perspective, any of the other Premiership sides could realistically crash out after their final game. United are probably best placed, needing to avoid defeat in Basle, but having nearly lost to them at home, they won’t be taking things for granted. Chelsea lost again last night, and Valencia’s huge 7-0 thumping of Genk leaves them needing only a score draw or better at Stamford Bridge to knock Chelsea out. Man City, meanwhile, could beat Bayern Munich and still exit the competition. Are there enough TV channels available to show up to seven Premiership sides on Thursday nights?

That we avoided such drama was due to two factors – improved defensive stability, and the ability to strike at the right moments. Dortmund started brightly, pinning us back in the early stages, and perhaps earlier in the season they would have been allowed to fashion more clear cut chances. As it was, they had much of the ball without seriously testing Szczesny. At the other end, we weren’t faring much better – the closest we came was when Walcott ran clear from Ramsey’s through ball, but the keeper came out sharply to clear the danger.

By half time, however, we had assumed control of the ball, helped in part by Dortmund losing two players, including the dangerous Gotze. After the break, we pushed forward with more purpose, and when the opening goal came, the scorer was no surprise – once again, Van Persie was in the right place at the right time to power a header low into the corner. But the goal wasn’t really about him – it owed everything to the craft and surprisingly sublime skill from Alex Song, whose driven run towards the left corner flag ended with a jinking piece of skill to bamboozle a pair of defenders, before picking out the captain with a pinpoint cross.

Before the goal, Song had been excellent in his usual defensive shielding role, and immediately after providing the killer moment, he reverted to what he knows best. Dortmund had to step out, knowing defeat was disastrous to their hopes, and they came again, leaving more space at the back for Walcott and Gervinho to exploit. The former was threatening, but it was the latter who should have wrapped things up, showing a delightful piece of skill but dummying the keeper when through on goal, only to hesitate and allow the defender to get back and dispossess him. I maintain that he will turn into a very productive player for us, but right now his end product is very hit and miss. Or very hit, miss, miss and miss.

When we did finally seal the game, and qualification, it was an old school goal reminiscent of Bould and Adams. Like in those days, it was a corner, flicked on at the near post by a big centre half for the captain to tuck home at the far, but in the modern incarnation it was Vermaelen and Van Persie with the critical touches. With news filtering through that Marseille were behind, we knew we would be winning the group with a game to spare.

Some of the player relaxed, Song and Djourou combining to give Dortmund a sloppy consolation with virtually the last kick of the game. Vermaelen and Szczesny blew their lids, a great sight for anyone who still believes we don’t care about clean sheets. We do. It took a small gloss off what was an impressive defensive display, particularly from Song, who is unrecognisable from the player we happily saw leave for Charlton on loan in his laughing stock days. How times change.

So a tough Champions League group has been successfully navigated. The champions of Greece and Germany have been dispatched, along with the dangerous Marseille, and all without needing a result from the tricky trip to Olympiakos. Now, we can rest and rotate during the manic December period, safe in the knowledge that Barcelona cannot be waiting in the first knockout round.

While our kids get their run out in Greece, three other Premiership teams will attempt to avoid the ignominy of joining Stoke, Birmingham, Fulham and that shower down the road in Europe’s secondary competition. Pretty much every pundit expected that to be us.

I hope Wenger feels smug today. He deserves to.

And pinching is something we’ve been doing a lot of since Saturday. Did we really go to Stamford Bridge and become the first side in the Premiership era (the twentieth year of it, no less) to score five times? Did we really come from behind twice at a ground that has caused us so much grief over the past five years? Did we really concede another late wonder goal but bounce back to win anyway? Have we really put in a run of eight wins in nine, after the doom and gloom around the club only a short while ago?

Best of all, did karma really hit John Terry so hard that his view of our winner was face down in the dirt?

While it is important to remember that it represented only three points, it was a truly extraordinary game, and the sort that gives players a remarkable amount of confidence. If they can score five at Stamford Bridge (and miss a bunch of other chances), then surely they can be dangerous anywhere? Whether it becomes a turning point remains to be seen, but it is the sort of epic affair we’ll be seeing for years to come. How many times have you turned Sky Sports Classics on, and watched Spurs 4 Arsenal 5? Add this one to the list.

Of course it wasn’t perfect – our defence was breached three times, and that could have doubled in the first five minutes, were Chelsea not so wasteful. But it would be churlish to focus on that after such an unexpected day, and it is telling when you read people speaking about the game in a purely negative light. Paul Parker, an awful writer at the best of times, and one who can never disguise his resentment of Arsenal, continued his internet trollish ways by focusing entirely on Arsenal’s defence, exactly one week after he said that United’s wasn’t that bad. The day they conceded six.

There is a reason I’m not linking to the article – it isn’t a serious piece of journalism, it is a classic case of trying to get hits by being outlandish, similar to when he wrote that Wenger should apologise for Shawcross because the Stoke player was ‘so upset’ after breaking Ramsey’s leg. There are times when intentions are painfully transparent. But it is true that positive assessment of Arsenal has been hard to come by – Match of the Day struggled as well, with Alan Hansen choosing to berate Chelsea and call it freakish, rather than dare give us any credit. Strangely, it was left to Gary Neville to provide the best analysis – impressive that a man who spent years in an intense rivalry with Arsenal is so willing to put it all aside in the name of sensible punditry. Many could learn from him.

The fact is that the positives enormously outweighed the negatives. As far as bad things to say, I can’t get much further than this:

• In the first five minutes, we were all over the place.
• Santos had a ‘mare in the first half.
• Terry’s goal on the stroke of half time was poor.

Now compare that to the list of positives:

• We created more chances than I can remember in years at Stamford Bridge.
• Ramsey was superb in midfield, never better than his pass for our first.
• Walcott had perhaps his best game in an Arsenal shirt. His goal was brilliant, but his pair of passes for the early misses by Gervinho and Van Persie were sensational. Cole could not handle him.
• Van Persie scored a brilliant hattrick, the first by an away player at Chelsea since Kanu. That was a good day, too.
• Koscielny was superb. One day the press might actually notice how good he has been.
• Song controlled the midfield, and again showed his eye for a pass for Santos’ goal.
• Speaking of the Brazilian, his second half was the complete opposite of his first – he was excellent.
• We reacted to adversity well – twice behind, hit late on by a wonder strike, yet came back every time.
• John Terry. Ha.

If anything, the team that has something to worry about is Chelsea. Three of the goals involved Cech being beaten at his near post, and Van Persie’s second saw him charge so far out to close the angle that he ended up outside his area. Nowhere have I seen this mentioned, despite thinking he was having an absolute nightmare at the time. Three years ago, I don’t think anyone would have questioned the assertion that he was amongst the best keepers in world football. Is that really still the case?

As for our reliance on one striker, at least we have a free scoring one. And for all the criticism of Chamakh, at least our misfiring forward didn’t cost us £50m.

I don’t want to focus on Chelsea, because they will put the day aside as a freak, and will probably bounce back just fine. The important thing is that we take this momentum forward, and prove our many many doubters wrong.

I might go and watch the highlights again. Why not, eh?

I actually thought we had run out of inventive, hilarious for the rest of the league, ways of losing football matches. Call this Arsenal team what you want  – they are a creative bunch.

The irony is that the day started well. Blackburn were busy holding a fan protest, something that rings a bell with many of our own, and we knew it would not take much to make them lose their belief. An early goal should have done the trick, and it duly arrived when Gervinho applied a neat finish to Song’s delightful through ball. The Ivorian had come under undue fire for a lack of end product (I say undue because he had played just four games before this, and in those set up a critical goal in Italy, amongst other chances), so it was good to see him open his account and seemingly set us on the path to another victory, against one of the few sides playing with less confidence than us.

Then came the first warning. After battering Blackburn in the early stages, they scored, Hoilett (their best player by a country mile) slipping in Yakubu, whose absurdly early effort caught Szczesny off guard. A wake up call, perhaps, and after a shaky five minutes we re-established control and regained the lead, with a fine move involving Song (again) and Ramsey, and ending with Arteta calmly sweeping into the roof of the net. That was it until half time, although the lead should have been doubled shortly before the break when Gervinho unwisely chose to shoot with Van Persie placed for a tap in. It was to be a costly mistake.

Blackburn went up a gear in the second half, although you could hardly call their performance testing. I tried to make the point on Twitter that they actually didn’t earn their way back into the game, rather we handed them goals on a silver platter, and the second equaliser illustrated the point perfectly. Arshavin was harshly judged to have committed a foul, presenting them with the sort of free kick from which they usually thrive. But rather than whipping in a dangerous ball, a pathetic chip came into the box, the likes of which rarely threaten pub footballers. But no-one cut it out, and the ball bounced off Song’s shins and dribbled into the net. It was abject in every way, and while Blackburn were fortunate to get the goal, we cannot claim to have been unlucky, so easy should it have been to clear the damn thing.

It soon got worse.  Szczesny pulled off a superb save to keep the game level, but it only delayed the inevitable. When the goal came, Yakubu was clearly offside from Nzonzi’s shot, and that the linesman couldn’t see it given that the Nigerian had been standing stock still beyond the last defender for a few seconds is baffling, but although it was poor officiating, to blame to goal solely on the lack of a flag would be missing the point somewhat. The reality is that half of the defence had stepped up, two had stayed back, and both were behind Yakubu, unable to influence proceedings in any way. Had he been onside, the goal would have been as simple. It was exceptionally poor.

The fourth, when it came, was the sprout flavoured icing on the rotten cake, Olsson running half the length of the pitch before crossing to no-one. No-one, that is, except for Koscielny, who conspired to turn in our second own goal of the day and prompt language not heard in roughly three weeks. Self-destruction is an art form we have perfected in style, and for nineteen clubs in the league, it is terrific viewing.

The minutes ticked away, and on came Chamakh, hardly the most inspirational of potential rescuers, but the Moroccan proved us wrong, getting between two defenders to power home a superb header from Van Persie’s cross, and with five minutes to go we sensed another of our famed 4-4 draws. We should have got the point too, but first Mertesacker and then Chamakh missed glorious headed chances and the points were gone.

Despite the carnage, there were bright points, although they were heavily outweighed by the frailties that have derailed the start to what could be a very long season. Song was superb in the first half, Gervinho bright, Ramsey clever, and Arshavin showed flashes of the form that enthralled us in his first few months at the club. Chamakh also showed power and presence after coming on, traits long missed. And of course, we scored three good goals, which should have been enough to take all three points.

That it wasn’t was due to the embarrassment of the other end. Koscielny, so strong against Dortmund, continued his inconsistent tendencies with a shaky display, and Sagna had one of his worst games in an Arsenal shirt before coming off injured (which may be mitigation, in fairness). Santos was decent enough on an individual level, but his unfamiliarity with the rest of the defence was clear, with his positioning often being well away from the back line, while Mertesacker similarly struggled for position. We can only hope that with time and organisation, they will merge into a cohesive unit, but while time will be afforded, where will the organisation come from? Without Vermaelen, we lack that leadership at the back, and while the big German should add something in that regard, he can hardly give positioning instructions while still trying to find his own feet.

In front of them, Song’s second half was as poor as his first was superb, but the most distressing was the sight of poor Djourou, stuck at full back after Sagna’s withdrawal. Booked minutes after coming on after being easily turned, he looked like a novice for the rest of the match, and his one attempt at a cross (which went out for a goal kick less than half the distance between him and the post) was nothing short of humiliating. It is hard to believe that this is the same character who excelled for the first half of last season, so abject has he been since. At 24, he should be stepping up, but his career is drifting aimlessly, and no-one better symbolises our current malaise.

There is no doubt that there are serious problems with this Arsenal team. Personnel come and go, but we defend in the same disorganised, haphazard way. When you look at the individuals, their credentials all stack up, but as a unit something is seriously lacking, and while people can talk all they like about who should have been signed, it isn’t a matter of changing the names, but a case of changing the unity. Whenever you hit a brick wall in any walk of life, you should alter something, and perhaps calls for a new defensive coach are well founded. Shearer, Hansen and co can talk all they like about the need for Cahill and Samba, but the latter was shite today, frankly, and Cahill’s Bolton look every bit as defensively abject as us. We have the talent, but defend as individuals, and that never stands up in the long run.

That said, kindly stop the nonsense about us being in a relegation battle. I don’t take those suggestions any more seriously than I took similar assertions that Liverpool were locked in a battle to avoid the drop this time last year. Overreactionary dribble that should be left to the worst of the tabloids and the annoying pissed bloke in the pub who shouts above all others.

However, some sort of reassessment is in order. Make no mistake about it, we are in a battle for fourth, and we should be looking at the results of Liverpool and Spurs before caring about those of Chelsea, City and United. The most relevant match of Sunday’s programme will not be the big clash at Old Trafford, but the collision of our two major rivals for fourth at White Hart Lane. Sad but true.

The bare facts of the season so far are painful. Our goal difference is already 23 behind United, after a combined nine games, while having the worst defensive record in the division. But despite all of that, the fact remains that we have dropped 11 points, with 99 still to play for. You cannot throw in the towel after five games, and while a title challenge is surely out of the question, fourth is still perfectly attainable. That is now the aim, whether you like it or not.

Personally, I hate making that admission so early in the season. But we are where we are, and there is only one way to go from here. If you didn’t get that song reference from the title then congratulations. It was a crap song anyway.

Onward. Plenty of games in the next few weeks. They can’t all be this crap.

Some days, the remarkable can be hugely enjoyable. The 7-0 triumph over Slavia Prague in 2007 was perhaps the most recent, such was the perfection of the display. But too often in the last couple of years, the freakish has been painful – losing a 4-2 lead to Spurs in injury time, failing to beat Liverpool despite a four goal Arshavin flurry, taking the lead in the 98th minute only to concede in the 102th, and then what we considered the nadir – blowing a four goal lead at Newcastle earlier in the year.

And then came yesterday. In fairness, the game itself arguably wasn’t the issue – it was the months that led up to it that laid the platform for the battering we all feared. I’ve never known so many nervous fans before a game, not because of a big occasion, but due to a feeling we all had that we could be in for an absolute hiding. Whatever we imagined, it was worse.

I’m not going to go through each of the individual goals – not only would that make the piece ridiculously long, but it seems churlish – no-one can take anything out of the game, not even the better performers (Szczesny was good, but conceding eight and having your goalkeeper play well is not a pleasant combination to consider). The problem was collective. Defensively we were an utter shambles, never more aptly demonstrated than Nani’s goal, one pass beating six defenders and leaving him with a ridiculous amount of time in the centre of the penalty area. Utterly crazy.

Yes, we were missing players, but so were they. To all those who bemoan the absences of Vermaelen and Sagna, undoubtedly our two most reliable defenders, you should consider that United were without their own prize central defensive pairing. The difference was they had reliable backup. When Danny Welbeck pulled his hamstring and was forced off, it was horribly ironic that the man who replaced him was Javier Hernandez, a superb striker bought for a pittance. Compare and contrast.

The facts are there for all to see. While Jenkinson was excellent in midweek, he is still incredibly raw, and we should only really be glimpsing him in the Carling Cup, purring at his promise. Instead, he is direct backup to both Sagna and Gibbs, a situation that means he will see a lot of action this season, too much in reality. Traore has been unrated within the club for a long time, and it said everything about our paucity of options that a man untrusted by his manager, and imminently moving to QPR, was thrust out there. Unsurprisingly, he looked like he didn’t care.

In the centre, Djourou continued his alarming decline, making the most basic of errors, and whilst Coquelin impressed in the holding role on debut, he is another who should be blooded in the first team in less exposed circumstances. Ironically, it was his substitution that acted as the catalyst for collapse – when Wenger took him off at 3-1, thrusting Oxlade-Chamberlain on (another debutant, it case you were counting), I feared the worst. Frankly, removing your defensive shield in front of a dysfunctional defence, no matter how raw, is suicidal, and without him we had nothing with which to repel to wave upon wave of United attack. It was depressing to watch.

Some are clinging to the silver lining that the result means the Arsenal hierarchy cannot ignore the problems any more. I’m not. Quite frankly, if the awareness wasn’t already there then we have even bigger problems – everyone else could see it long ago.

It is difficult to know how much can change in the next three days – in an ideal world we would get a central defender, a full back (preferably on the left), a creative central midfielder and a striker, all ready for first team action. That, combined with the return of a few players, would make our squad look competitive again. But not only is four signings remarkably unlikely, what damage has already been done, both for this season and the confidence of our young players? What of Jenkinson, a real talent, who was ruthlessly exposed and eventually sent off? What of Oxlade-Chamberlain, who ran around for half an hour, barely getting a touch, and seeing his side ship another five goals? What has it done to them?

Ten years ago, a 6-1 mauling at Old Trafford wrecked the career of the then-touted and now-maligned Igor Stepanovs. I would be surprised if this doesn’t have the same effect on someone.

But, we have to look forward. Roberto Martinez made a lot of sense on Match of the Day last night (yes, I put myself through it), talking about how clubs can recover from such a humiliation. And he should know – he sat in the dressing room after his Wigan side had shipped nine to Spurs a couple of years ago. He made the very good point that this is where you really learn about players – do they get angry and build something from nothing, ensuring that this is the rock bottom from which they climb? Or do they fall apart?

It can be mixed, but you learn nothing about players, or people, in the good times. You learn everything from situations like this. Let’s hope they react. Fast.

It had the feel of a pre-season game, perhaps because both sides came in undercooked and unsure of their squads. Newcastle have sold, we are missing players that we are about to sell, and both clubs have moves still to make before the end of August. It showed on the pitch – neither bench was particularly strong (you could argue ours had talent, but not experience), and both sets of players looked rustier than the usual opening day fare.

That said, there were positives, particularly at the back, where Koscielny impressed alongside Vermaelen, Gibbs surged forward well, and Szczesny dominated his area superbly, especially from set pieces. That defensive solidity was important – had we crumbled under pressure at the end and conceded a soft goal, the pitchforks would be out. As it is, it isn’t a spectacular result, but it isn’t a bad one either – given the nature of our squad situation, a point and a clean sheet away from home is nothing to lambast, although I’m sure many will.

Of course, the football will not make the headlines – instead, two flashpoints will, out of which neither club, or anyone involved, came out particularly well. The first incident involved Song and Barton – Song, already on a yellow, was riled by a Barton challenge and appeared to quite deliberately bring his studs down on the back of his leg, a moment of sheer stupidity fortunately missed by Peter Walton. In the moment, I defended Song on Twitter as it appeared to be an accident on first viewing, but having seen the replays it is clear that he does look down at Barton before choosing where to place his foot.

It was the kind of stupidity we thought we had eradicated from the club once Eboue had been ousted, and I have little doubt that an FA charge will follow. The only thing that might save him is if the FA turn a blind eye to it, because of the actions of his victim later in the game.

With a quarter of an hour to go, Gervinho, who was having an excellent debut, turned in the box and was clipped by Tiote. There was contact, but my first reaction was that it was a dive. He certainly went down easily – one of those moments where you claim the spot kick if your player goes down, but feel hard done by if it is given against you. What followed was far worse – Barton decided on the vigilante approach and hauled our new signing up by his neck and throat, an action that would eventually earn him a yellow card. Any sympathy from the neutrals for a man seemingly unhappy about a fellow professional going down easily were quickly eradicated when Gervinho’s light bitch slap reaction saw Barton tumble back to earth clutching (the wrong side of) his face in apparent agony.

Repeatedly, Barton then claimed to be the victim of a powerful punch, which is somewhat ironic since he should know exactly what one of those is, having dished plenty out both on and away from the football field. If he thought that a punch, I would certainly hesitate to believe what sort of ‘tough unbringing’ he really had. Equally risible was the reaction of Steven Taylor, who hounded anyone who would listen with claims that, in fact, it was a swinging elbow that saw Barton so mortally wounded. You would have thought Walton would have smelt a rat at such wildly different accounts, but sadly not.

Incidentally, all credit to ESPN’s Rebecca Lowe, who pressed that very point home in an interview with Taylor after the game, in which the player claimed not to have seen the incident at all. Lowe refused to move on, pointing out that that was a strange claim to make by a man who had insinuated quite the opposite in the immediate aftermath. In doing so, she exposed Taylor quite brilliantly. Well played.

But, and this is a big but, for all the cretinous and blood boiling behaviour of Barton, you cannot defend what Gervinho did – he raised his hands, slapped his opponent, and in doing so gave Barton exactly what he wanted. Because for those who question why Barton does these things, there is your answer – he got a yellow card, and he incited his opponent into getting sent off. In short, he won. He is not embarrassed by his actions, and I question the logic of the masses who send him abuse on Twitter – can you not see that he likes to know he gets to people? You are playing into his hands, people.

No-one came out of the situation well. Barton and Taylor looked like manipulative weasels, Song and Gervinho naive, foolish and a touch spiteful, and the officials weak. Even the managers made me cringe – Wenger by claiming he would appeal the sending off, and Pardew for seeing no wrong in what his player had done.

My take on what should have happened? Song, Barton and Gervinho should all have seen red, and all for violent conduct – Song for the stamp, Gervinho for the slap, and Barton for lifting him off the ground by his neck. But as I’ve already said, Barton won the day, because he is almost certainly the only one of the trio who will not be missing next weekend’s games through suspension. The more this tactic works, the more he will persist with it – he did for Diaby six months ago, and he has done it again.

I will say this though – when Robbie Savage is calling you out after the game, and the nation is nodding in agreement, you have officially reached a new low.

So now Wenger has to plan for a testing fortnight without more players – Song and Gervinho are both likely to be missing for games against Liverpool and United, and with the squad already thinner than we would like, some careful rotation will have to occur for the Champions League tie. It is an unenviable situation, but one that is entirely our own doing thanks to the end of season collapse that helped create the ‘spend some fucking money‘ chant that echoed around the away end in the final moments of the game. For the record, while I think the away fans are superb and have the right to sing whatever they want, the timing was off – we were defending solidly, and were trying to see out a final push from a side with an extra man. Not helpful in that moment, no matter how resonant the sentiment.

Overall, I am a little disappointed by the result without seeing it as a disaster, but I’m worried about the next couple of weeks. For so many reasons, the next fortnight is enormously important.

Despite the turgid game, it is good to have football back. Next up, Udinese.