They say nothing is forever. They say all good things must come to an end. As the shocked world watched open-mouthed at the dismantling of the once great Arsenal FC, it was awe tinged with a certain level of humility. You could not revel in such utter desolation.
As good as Manchester United undoubtedly were at it, Arsenal were rather fine architects of their own downfall. Some of the defending, at times, from the Gunners—shorn of their defensive stalwart Tomas Vermaelan—was bordering on the Blackpool.
Admittedly, this was a side for whom injury had decimated their available line-up. Yet the inexperience exuded from the Gunners' starting board was paralleled in their opponents squad.
Age should not be used as a crux, as on the day it was the United rather than the Arsenal line-up that had the youngest average age (23 over 23.6). This was a Red Devils side without their first choice defensive duo, without the man whom would have been considered the first choice right-back at season curtain-raise (Rafael) and Darren Fletcher, who could raise a valid case for central-midfield supremacy.
The difference is that in the wake of these injuries, the United players have stepped into the breach and accounted themselves excellently, where Arsenal’s youngsters have floundered.
It is a depressing trend that has seen three consecutive sending offs in the Gunners first three games of the season. The trio have an average age of under 21, and were making their Arsenal bows this season. The idiocy of Gervinho, the lunacy of Frimpong and the sheer desperation of Jenkinson have set a rather unnerving precedent heading forward, a precedent that has yielded one points from three games.
Last season, almost half of this United side weren’t at the club. It is a team supposed to be in transition. A team in the making.
Alex Ferguson has set his stall out most vehemently this term, placing his faith very definitely in the clubs abundance of youthful talent.
Logic and Alan Hansen would purvey that such faith would take time to reap the fruit of the boss’ labour. The last four games have slapped logic across the face.
Chris Smalling, to me, embodies United this season. Just over two years ago, he was plying his trade in non-league football, and last season, he was recognised in rather rigid terms as a central defender. Following the injury to Rafael, Smalling has been presented with a chance on the right flank. Duck to water would really be unfair on young Chris, who will almost certainly form the basis of United, and quite probably England’s, right flank for some time to come.
Smalling is only one amidst a plethora of United youngsters who have seized the chance presented by their manager's faith. Learning from the winning mantra that bisects this current squad, despite its relative youth, the confidence of their play is palpable.
In comparison, after the high profile departures of key-men Samir Nasri and Cesc Fabregas and the rather onerous lack of subsequent re-investment, a huge onus has been placed on the Gunners own youth.
It is a recipe that has come to define Arsene Wenger's Arsenal era, in which young players plucked from obscurity flourish amidst the North London side’s delectable technical repertoire. It is also is a recipe that has yielded almost un-paralleled success for the professor, as Fabregas, Alex Song and Jack Wilshere, along with scores of other lay, testament.
Yet there is a figurative line that must not be crossed if a team is to remain competitive. Hope and expectation placed in youth and obscure signings from the continent can get you so far, but in a climate in which money literally talks, Arsene Wenger’s stringency is no longer conducive to progression.
Established world stars are being sold and not replaced. The baton of hope is therefore placed upon the shoulders of young men for whom the task is simply too much. They are not ready.
In Manchester United’s system, the youth is being used a supplement to a squad that revels in its abundance of match winners. It is not an antidote or remedy for the loss of one that had far more to give.
At the end of last season, United lost three stalwarts to the annals of yesteryear. Years of servitude had wearied legs that were no longer what they were. This was accepted, not necessarily welcomed, but accepted as a necessity amidst the frenetic pace of modern football.
The situation with Arsenal, however, is bi-polar to this. Nasri and Fabregas, disillusioned with the transfer policy so castrating the progression of their club, left in search of clubs that could match their ambition. They have yet to be replaced.
With three days of the window to go, Arsene Wenger may well dip his toe tentatively into the transfer water, but it will be a move born more from desperation than anything, and as such, value will be at a premium. With the boss’ well documented ostentation to overtly inflated fees I for one would not be surprised if no new additions are made.
It is a sad indictment on the state of the once Invincible club. The club who made the names of Dennis Bergkamp, Thierry Henry and Patrick Viera. The Nasri and Fabregas transfers were not bolts from the blue; there was ample opportunity for replacements to be sought more than three days before the transfer window closed.
So as good as United’s kids were today, for all the hyperbole I could ram down the face of desolate Gunners fans about that’s how to do it with kids, such idle boasting would seem somewhat hollow.
For today, I witnessed the culmination of years of false hope, failed promise and lost superstars. A club for whom my admiration for their technical brilliance has, over the years, superseded the logical boundaries of our rivalry, reduced to mere bystanders.
Going forward, the future of Manchester United appears to have never been in better health as the second coming of the fledglings matures and grows together.
To me, though, the rich tapestry of the sport I love is given its colour by the rivalries that we enjoy with teams like Arsenal. I can accept and delight in a smashing victory any day of the week, but today goes way beyond a simple victory, beyond eight goals even. It highlights the warning signs of a club in decline. And to glory in that, well, it just isn’t football.
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