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By Lindsay Sheehan

So Adam's blog described yesterdays Champions League match for us in fantastic 3D. I am glad he wrote one, I did not know where to start. My heart, my head, my body and my mind all hurt today like I had called Mike Tyson’s mum a dirty-crack-pipe-smoking-whore. What a game, what a team Barcelona are and what a captain the Arsenal have.

I started the night in the Emirates toilet. Well come on, it was Arsenal vs Barcelona, the biggest game of this season, surely I can be forgiven a delicate stomach? To get there I had to walk past my favourite framed picture of Henry roaring whilst slamming the badge on his chest with his fist. To me this picture captures everything I love about both the Arsenal and Henry. Usually I touch it as I go past, you know, one of those lucky rituals. So as I sat on the loo I wondered if I should. It was weird, Henry coming home, and to be honest I thought it would have more impact on me than it did.

Obviously the reason for this was the 90 odd minutes of complete madness. Firstly the absolute sheer brilliance of Barcelona. I have listened to the pundits /papers saying it was as much us being awful as it was Barce being brilliant. This is shite. When they had the ball there was acres of space, absolute miles of virgin grass in between them, it was like a mirage. When we had the ball there was nothing but a busy swarm of Barcelona players shutting down each and every part of the pitch till not even light could get through. Amazing. Theo said it was like watching a PS3 game. My brother Steve and I decided our season tickets were worth the price just to watch them alone. Yes there were some below par Arsenal performances but they were everything football should be about and let’s acknowledge that. We looked like the occasion had got into our heads. They flew at us like rabid dogs while we looked like bunnies caught in headlights. In fact there was a definite druggy quality to that first half as if we’d been hypnotised by their silky skills. This worked positively for Almunia whose dose of party powder mutated him into da da daaaaa SUPERKEEPER!! He was here, there and everywhere, arms, legs, head everything protecting our goal from the onslaught. He just would not be breached and that was by far the best performance he has had between the Arsenal sticks. But as you know guys and girls, there is always a come down from drugs.

This was illustrated by the 2 goals early in the second half and soft ones to give away at that. Par for the course though isn't it? Arsenal always seem to give away silly goals, not many belters against us, we like to give the opposition a hand. The game was made even harder by the disruption to Arsene’s plans. Arshavin was anonymous until substituted for his injury and then off went Gallas in the lifeboat with return of the dodgy calf 3. It appears these 2 will miss 3 crucial weeks. So before halftime we had already used 2 subs. This haunted us at the end where we were unable to bring on fresh legs for the crocked Cesc and utilise the numerical advantage after Puyol had been sent off. We wanted a performance, we wanted a response and we wanted some character. Well as Meatloaf sang ”2 outta 3 ain’t bad.” After their second goal it was like someone had un-popped the Arsenal cork and all the nerves exploded out leaving them relaxed and calm. Only then did we start to play. Theo did what we know he can do and sparked a revival. As Carlo Ancelotti patronised us after Chelsea away, it’s not how much possession, how beautiful the football or how well executed the tactics, it’s the amount of times the ball goes in the back of the net that counts and sorry Barcelona ours matched yours at the end of the night so nuh. Honestly I don't think we will win at the Nou Camp, Camp Nou, whatever Trevor, but this is just another big moment in our season where I can look at my team and be proud. Well done boys. But then as seems to be the case with every Arsenal triumph, came the fall. Fabregas season ended when he belted the ball into the back of the net for his 19th goal of the season. And here is where emotion overcomes me. This little guy has been such a revelation to us. He has constantly lived up to the hype. I remember watching him at Highbury singing, “He’s only 17 he’s better than Roy Keane” and now at 22 if anything maturity has brought out even more to his character and added depth to his game.

He is always there to bail us out. He never shirks his captaincy duties and at times, single handed, he has pulled our team up by their underpants and back into the title race. Last night was no exception. A textbook tackle for which he was stupidly yellow carded and instead of crumbling and wailing he scores the equaliser. He was running around right to last moment and I was screaming at him to stop because he was so obviously crocked. He never moans, he never parties with his pants down, he never nearly crashes his car over 5K a week, he is gracious and for god sake he has thrown pizza at Sir Alex Ferguson and spat in the face of Phil Brown (allegedly.) What a fucking hero. That he will not see through the Premier League run in or play in the CL should we beat the Spanish is an undeserving punishment for someone so obviously dedicated to his sport and his club. If there was any justice he would be lifting a trophy at the end of the season with 60,000 grateful Gooners singing his name at the top of their voices. Instead I feel desolate that probably he will only be thinking of the World Cup. I fear this is the season of what ifs and Cesc’s absence will be another of those. Does the squad have enough strength and depth to cope without Van Persie, Cesc, Gibbs, Gallas, Djourou, Arshavin and Ramsey. Can all those names fit on the “Do It For ...” banner. I guess we’ll know more after Wolves on Saturday at home. Well step up Theo it’s down to you son.

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