Gunners with Pizza-zz ...

Man Ure 0

The Arse 1
(Adebayor 86th)

AN ACCOUNT OF WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED DURING THE GAME

It wasn't something I was looking forward to and certainly something I didn't expect to walk into.

The sight of 4 cheery neighbours waving at me to join them as soon as I stepped out of the car did elicit an inward groan before some gastric sound effect reminded me of my no. 1 priority - it was 10pm Sunday night and I haven't had my dinner yet.

These were no ordinary neighbours - these were hard-core Manure fans but hey, one has got to keep the flag waving innit?

So with the missus in tow and two toddlers and a teenager (also a Gooner - one inherits these sort of thing, you know) tagging along, I settled down amongst friends and neighbours in front of the projector screen for my nosh.

For the culinarily-curious, I had nasi goreng daging merah and barli panas, okay?

It's always great to meet up at our local EPL view-station (Restoran Salma, Desa Subang - great food, great ambience - complete with standard parking-lot tables - us Malaysians do love these dining tables that you actually park your car beside), but at this particular juncture, even a Gooner like me was thinking we were goners for this game.

All 5 of us watched the opening act - Gerard and company huffing and puffing trying to blow Mourinho's 10 men down (Ballack rooney-ed Sissoko and off he went). The fact that Poo didn't manage to pull it off had me wondering if we could beard Sir Alex at his den.

Twenty minutes later, after having safely tucked in the toddlers (and the missus) at home, I was back at Salma's - loyally flying the flag despite the feeling of impending doom. Gloating Manure twats are never the prettiest sight this side of the universe, right?

I dunno about Old Trafford but we all agreed well beforehand that no matter what happens (cue Manure fans smirking all round this Gooner) there would not be any toxic dhal curry bombardment nor are any deadly chappatis to be launched in the immediate vicinity of the viewing area for the duration and immediately after the game.

That settled everyone and the game started amidst a last-minute flurry of cheap shots among the viewers, yours truly included.

Twenty minutes later, the Arse was up by 2 yellow cards (Lehmann and Toure) and a missed penalty (Gilberto). On the plus side, there was a goalmouth clearance after a save to the post from Kuszczak (van der Sar MC lor ...).

After 45 minutes, my neighbours were chortling over Lehmann's save with the face - I suspect Ronaldo didn't like him much in any case - but I was actually happy at Arsenal's display. The "younger" players were expressing themselves thoroughly in Henry's absence and they were making Manure looked distinctly uncomfortable.

I think my suspicions are true in that when Thierry Henry is playing, most of the front-line are like segan (an awfully Malaysian mixture of embarassment and shyness coupled with an inordinate dose of "deferring to the elders") and therefore never played to their true potential.

Without Henry, it was showtime! Or so it seems.

The second half started and we still couldn't make a mark but we were living up to our name - we were firing shots, some weakly, some awry but there were a few awfully wicked ones as well.
Manure equalised in the yellow cards score, Brown and Scholes clearly showing that they were getting rattled.

One could see that for all Manure's movement and fury, they were flailing at an Arsenal side that was getting better and faster in their counters by the minute.

There were quite a few pulls on my balding pate - 2 clear chances plus a one-on-one that ended with a weak shot.

And finally, in the 86th minute, the killer blow was elegantly administered by that gawky, gangling Adebayor ... a deft toe-poke under Kuszczak's body from a precise Fabregas pass.

And that was that.

Oops not quite. Lehmann had his moment - a superb fingertip save from Ole Gunnar Solksjaer that would have been a travesty if it had gone in. Gruss Gott, Jens.

What a glorious night ....