Arsenal lost 2-0 at newly-promoted Brentford. Angry? Well, that’s your call. If anything, I’m kind of sad how little anger this shite-show of a performance and result evoked. Then again, you can’t get angry about the outcome if you’re not at all surprised by the outcome.
Arsenal started the season with a defeat. Arsenal started the season with an overly hyped youth player up front. Arsenal started the season with Calum Chambers at right-back. Arsenal started the season with Gabriel Martielli in the starting XI five minutes after he touched down from Japan. Arsenal started the season without senior strikers Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang and Alexandre Lacazette, both “ill” according to their self-preserving boss.
Arsenal started the season with Mikel Arteta still manager and Edu still operating as technical director. Arsenal lost 2-0 at newly-promoted Brentford. ‘Nuff said.
A disjointed squad yielded a muddled XI who were bullied in every phase. It helped Brentford’s tribute to Stoke City circa Tony Pulis was allowed to continue unchecked by Michael Oliver, who presumably thought his responsibilities as a referee were optional. Oliver let fouls that should have been hard yellows go unpunished. He left Bernd Leno to get felt up and take it for Christian Norgaard’s goal. Oliver also let the hosts use every trick to waste time from the moment Sergi Canos lashed Brentford in front in the 22nd minute.
Oliver was a sham, but he was nowhere near the biggest culprit for Friday night’s farce. Step forward The Process King. All hail! Arteta’s double talk, general indecision and willingness to lean on every excuse in the book left his team short of options. Short of a credible right-back. Short of a second creator to support leading light Emile Smith Rowe. Short of a backup goalkeeper to remind Leno he can’t keep suffering through one calamity after another with impunity.
Just like everything else with Arteta, there’s been a lot of noise but no follow through. A lot of guff about signing a goalkeeper, without actually striking a deal. A lot of guff about finding the right playmaker, only to go round the houses (and down the bloody drains) before settling on last season’s teacher’s pet. Martin Odegaard’s good, but he won’t be able to fix this mess.
Even if Odegaard arrives soon, who is going to convert the chances he creates? Hopefully not Balogun and Martinelli, who both looked out of their depth against the bullies from Brentford. Balogun’s touch, technique and shooting radar were all way, way off the mark. Yes, he’s only a kid, but let’s not pretend the 20-year-old wasn’t hyped to the moon before he signed a new contract this summer. It’s not unreasonable to expect better from a prodigy this highly-touted.
Balogun is barely seasoned, so maybe he just about earns a pass for this fallow showing. It’s a different story for Martinelli, though, who appeared to hide at times. He wanted no part of the robust stuff the Bees were passing off as challenges. Martinelli was also a step slow, both mentally and physically, more than once. The latter failings are understandable for an overworked lad who is only just removed from Olympics duty for Brazil. It’s the first problem that’s harder to take.
A powder-puff forward line rendered Arsenal impotent where it counted.
This not a good look for Arteta. If two young whippersnappers are as ineffective as Aubameyang has been, the problem is systemic, not with personnel. Whatever is going on with Auba and Lacazette, Arsenal may have to accept this team can’t survive without them. Perhaps that’s the problem. They’re indispensable and they know it.
Frankly, I was surprised Martinelli started, regardless of what’s happening with the senior BFFs. If Martinelli was fit enough to go so soon after Tokyo, then Bukayo Saka surely had to start. Man, did this team need Saka. Especially in a midfield muscled all over the pitch.
Speaking of being muscled, Ben White needs an ice bath after being bitchslapped by Ivan Toney. Difficult not to be at least mildly worried about how out of his element the £50-million man looked with the rough and tumble.
Counting on Chambers for cover did White few favours, but then that’s what happens when you ignore key issues for this long. Splashing out money on squad bodies like a backup left-back and a youthful central midfielder looks beyond frivolous when those moves come before settling more pressing matters, like say, replacing Hector Bellerin, providing competition for Leno and finding a striker and a creative.
In fairness, one of Arsenal’s squad moves, Albert Sambi Lokonga, showed some promise. At the least, he’s a player with ideas when in possession. Ideas like an Alex Song-style chip.
Lokonga didn’t quite qualify as the silver lining on the night. That distinction belonged to Smith Rowe. The No. 10 we already have produced some beautiful moments on the turn. His feet were quick, his mind quicker. ESR played at a level above most of the shite around him. Hopefully, that won’t become one of the trends of the season.
Imagine what he might do with some help…
Assessing where Arsenal go from here is a scarier proposition than reliving this misery. Where do you start? How about with Aubameyang and Lacazette? “Ill” is a plausible reason for absence in a Covid world, but it also used to be an Arsene Wenger euphemism for ‘no longer has a future at the club’ or ‘being prepped for sale.’
Arsenal will be left traversing Shit Creek without a paddle if they let two proven goalscorers walk out the door minutes after drawing a blank against Premier League newcomers. Yet, I could almost respect Arteta (almost) if he has indeed taken a stand against two high-priced, underperforming egos who don’t have the stomach to scrap their way out of the mid-table doldrums. At least then Arteta would actually be standing for something, rather than simply trying to sound good.
The manager is going to need all of his PR acumen to produce a positive spin if this is followed by defeats to Chelsea and Manchester City. Hardly a stretch to think that’s how things unfold during the rest of this month.
Those games made the opening fixture feel must-win, but the challenge posed by Brentford was minimised in the minds of many by the games preceding it. Taken in isolation, a trip to a rabid and rocking stadium to face players fired up to prove they belong and buoyed by the weight of the occasion, was always tougher than it looked.
That’s no excuse for defeat. Not when you turn out a skeleton crew to begin arguably the most important season in recent history for a club at a crossroads.
The 49 Steps 