by Alex Fynn
If Alexander Hleb had not already made his manager aware of the facts of life, then Emmanuel Adebayor underlined them for him. Overtures from Milan and Barcelona had turned the Togolese international’s head and, endeavouring to exploit his exceptional 2007/08 season, he demanded pay parity with the world’s top strikers. In response, Arsenal were prepared to let him leave, but at a price, one which deterred the interested parties, and so a new deal was eventually struck. (During an argument with a disgruntled fan, the striker revealed his weekly wage had risen to in excess of £100,000 a week.) The concession of a huge hike in salary at least ensured Adebayor would not be allowed to run down his contract in the way Flamini did, thereby providing the club with the reassurance that he would command the kind of fee commensurate with his ability if he left (30 goals in the 2007/08 season was an exceptional strike rate, even if his profligacy irritated those with half-empty glasses).
Over the course of six months, the departures of Lassana Diarra, Flamini and Gilberto – who was allowed to leave rather than see out the last year of his contract, and joined Greek side Olympiakos – severely depleted the midfield options. Prior to the start of the 2008/09 season Arsenal fans were anticipating the purchase of a top-notch name to partner Cesc Fabregas, and there was much speculation regarding Liverpool’s Xabi Alonso. But Nasri aside, the only midfield arrivals were the unheard of 21-year-old Amaury Bischoff from Werder Bremen, a club for whom he had made a total of one appearance as a substitute, and Aaron Ramsey. At 17 years old, the young Welshman was one for the future, even if his £5 million price tag suggested he was already highly talented. Significantly, Arsenal’s rivals for his signature, Manchester United, intended to allow him to remain at Cardiff before he was scheduled to go to Old Trafford in the summer of 2009.
A similar scenario affected defensive resources. Jens Lehmann returned to the Bundesliga with VfB Stuttgart and Philippe Senderos moved to AC Milan on a year-long loan deal. Having been a first-team squad member for four years, it seemed as if Wenger was paving the way for a new and better recruit. Thus when he purchased the injury-prone 31-year-old Manchester United reserve utility defender Mikael Silvestre for a token fee more than a few eyebrows were raised. The French international had made only a few first-team appearances for United in the previous two seasons, and was now very much surplus to requirements. Moreover, Silvestre seemed earmarked as cover for the left back position (rather than the crucial one of central defence), especially with Armand Traore being loaned out to Portsmouth. An atypical Wenger purchase, at least he might be someone William Gallas could talk to. At the end of August, The Gooner fanzine commented in its editorial with unfortunate prescience, “If he [Wenger] thinks the current squad have the quality to win enough of the key matches with the defensive options available, I fear senility is knocking on the door.”
In the early days of the new season (2008/09), Wenger was taken to task by someone who was emboldened to inform him, “You need two six foot five world-class centre backs, an international goalkeeper, a midfield ball-winner and to make better use of the wings.”
“I couldn’t get the centre backs I was after,” Wenger replied.
“And the goalkeeper?”
“If Almunia was English, he would be an international.”
“That’s a reflection on how poor English keepers are at the moment, and anyway he ain’t no Schmeichel. And the attack?”
“You’re right.”
Yet the manager was still choosing to ignore the experience of his early years at Arsenal: the tough mature English professionals he inherited and the extra lease of life he gave them when he realised their value, the tall combative midfielders – Vieira and Petit – he bought and the resolution they all showed to right defensive wrongs and ensure that defence began in the midfield.
Undoubtedly the manager would have preferred to have had an extra central defender to add to Gallas, Toure and Johan Djourou, but he simply couldn’t get the one he wanted. At the club’s October AGM, he was questioned as to why he did not buy a centre-back after stating it was a priority at the beginning of the summer. “Football is not just like going to the supermarket,” he responded. “You can’t go in and say, ‘I want one player who is six feet five inches with a good left foot and I want him to be delivered.’” Money was available – some £18 million – but with that seemingly insufficient one can only conjecture whom he had in mind. It would have been closer to the truth to say that he simply couldn’t pay for his preferences. The players he wanted were available, but the manager’s line was, “We have internal solutions” – sticking to what he had rather than buying someone who was not top of his list, so midfielder Alex Song had to be drafted in if more obvious defensive candidates were unavailable.
Song was also one of the options to partner Cesc Fabregas in the midfield. Aaron Ramsey may have been considered able enough to represent his country at full international level, but he was ultimately earmarked as a possible long-term replacement for Fabregas, who it was felt would inevitably leave at some stage. The other contenders for the position hitherto filled so capably by Gilberto and then Flamini were Denilson and Abou Diaby. The latter was injury prone and by and large struggled except when played as a support striker where his technique in tight situations together with his speed and energy found its optimum expression. (He was instrumental in a November 2008 victory over Manchester United and scored a couple of terrific goals against Fenerbahce and Aston Villa.) Song, unsurprisingly at 20, was inconsistent. Sometimes he showed flashes of the ability that his manager saw in him, but was too often wasteful in possession. So Denilson remained as the best of a less than vintage bunch, occasionally being moved wide to accommodate Song in the centre. Apart from Fabregas, who was much less effective than the previous season, no one displayed the requisite authority or consistency. Not only were fewer chances created but the defence lacked the protection it had previously come to take for granted.
Results reflected the reality of an inexperienced squad, with inconsistency their hallmark. Equally capable of beating Manchester United or Chelsea one week, but losing to Fulham, Stoke City or Hull the next, what had changed so much in a year? Then, Arsenal’s title aspirations had remained intact until the final weeks of the 2007/08 campaign, yet next time around the wheels came off in the autumn.
The lack of experience, despite there being several players in their mid-20s and even older, was the key factor. Players far younger and less worldly were forced to replace their elders and betters. It was too much to ask. And Wenger knew it. ‘Inexperience costs points,’ he confided to a friend. The team, at times, visibly folded, confidence nowhere to be seen. This was not a case of one or two having an off day. The malaise had seemingly spread throughout the entire squad. There were whole matches when it was hard to believe this was an Arsène Wenger team, so inept were they at even retaining possession.
The nadir – ‘ahead’ of several contestants – arrived in a narrow 1-0 home victory over Wigan. Emmanuel Eboue had gradually alienated the fans due to his perceived lack of contribution and unsporting conduct, specifically his propensity for diving and feigning injury. Eboue replaced the injured Samir Nasri before the interval and was not enjoying the best of games. However, as the final whistle approached, the team became progressively more agitated about hanging on to their slender lead. In the space of five minutes Eboue committed a series of howlers, culminating in effectively tackling his own teammate Kolo Toure and consequently surrendering possession. The manager felt compelled – as he had become a liability – to substitute his substitute even though only a couple of minutes remained. To add insult to the player’s injured pride, the crowd first cheered when his replacement was announced, then booed loudly as he walked towards the touchline.
Eboue had been asked to fill Nasri’s position on the left of midfield. That the manager felt a right-sided defender was the best option to take over in left midfield revealed the paucity of resources. Wenger required his charges to demonstrate t
hey were exponents in the art of total football, but they were simply not up to the mark. It was an embarrassing day for the club, in spite of the collection of three points. The crowd had turned on one of the players and before long they would turn on the team and even the manager as sub-par performances way below the level the fans had come to expect followed one after another.
The Eboue fiasco was just one consequence of a number of seemingly quixotic managerial decisions. It was a bizarre situation to suggest that Carlos Vela might have to be sent out on loan again in order to gain experience when he was left on the bench against Wigan. Similarly, Aaron Ramsay and Jack Wilshire, having started in the Carling Cup, were for the most part unused substitutes in the Premiership.
The prospect that the manager was facing the most difficult period of his 12-year reign was predicated by the sacking of the club captain William Gallas in November due to his revealing a split dressing room and criticising his teammates to the French media. It was one misdemeanor too many for Arsène Wenger and he appointed Cesc Fabregas as his new skipper. ‘There was a problem at half time in the 4-4 draw with Tottenham [at the end of October],” Gallas admitted. “The only thing that I could say was ‘Guys, we resolve these problems after the match, not at half time’.” The team lost concentration in the second half and ultimately allowed a 4-2 lead in the 89th minute to slip away. “When as captain,” he revealed, “some players come up to you and talk to you about a player . . . complaining about him . . . and then during the match you speak to this player [assumed by the media to be Robin van Persie] and the player in question insults us, there comes a time where we can no longer comprehend how this can happen.”
Outside the club, there would have been widespread sympathy with Gallas’s observation that “big contracts can make you rest on your laurels” – an accurate description of some of his highly paid younger colleagues who had no requirement to install a trophy cabinet at home. “You know you’ve got to pay the money,” former striker Alan Smith commented, “so you’ve got to trust in the individual and feel that you’ve done the right research into his character and that the money won’t spoil him and take away his hunger. It’s only human nature that some people are not the same once they are financially secure. The very best, however, retain their desire.”
Gallas may well have hit the nail on the head with his statement, “We have to be warriors. That is how the team will forge their character and experience.” And the lack of such an aptitude was probably why Arsenal could be overturned by less gifted teams with a more muscular approach. Gallas was directly suffering the consequences of the lack of physicality among his colleagues. The midfield was lightweight: Fabregas, Nasri and Denilson were all less than six feet and the taller men, Song and Diaby, simply did not win the number of aerial challenges that their height should have enabled them to do.
Wenger may have viewed Spain’s European Championship-winning model as a benchmark for the future. But if so, he lacked the equivalents of Senna, Xavi and Iniesta to play alongside Fabregas (who could not even hold down a starting berth in his own national side). No successful team, whatever their size, did not possess a core of individuals who could respond in kind to rough treatment from their opponents. Wenger may have adored Dennis Berkamp for his consummate skill, but he must have been aware that the Dutch maestro was also mean and moody as well as magnificent. He knew creativity had to earn the right to put on a show. And perceived injustices were never ignored as the flurry of red cards bore witness. Presumably as justification for the right to express themselves, the manager turned a blind eye to his players’ excesses on the field. Arsenal had evolved into smaller and less imposing physical specimens and the manager’s priorities were not the positions where both neutrals and supporters perceived the team as under-strength, both literally and metaphorically.
Whether justified or not, with Gallas deposed, it was a case of ‘the king is dead, long live the king’, or le roi est mort, viva el rey as far as the dressing room was concerned. With the appointment of the 21-year-old Fabregas as skipper, some saw a parallel with that of Tony Adams back in 1988. However, Adams had more physical authority and – despite his tender years – had no compunction about organising those around him or reminding experienced professionals of their responsibilities. On one occasion he suggested to Dennis Bergkamp that his talent had not brought him the medal collection he should own. Fabregas was a far more considered and less vocal individual, what the French call a ‘technical leader’. However, he indisputably enjoyed the respect of his teammates and his role in Spain’s Euro 2008 triumph enhanced his burgeoning reputation. Nevertheless, due to the paucity of alternatives – Kolo Toure’s form did not guarantee him a starting place at this time – Wenger had Hobson’s choice when it came to selecting Gallas’s successor. The manager used to talk about a team of leaders on the field, but those days were gone. Such was the lack of genuine contenders that – due to injuries to Gallas and later Fabregas – the armband was handed around like a hot potato. Nine different players captained the first team over the course of the season. (Set against Manchester United the comparison was invidious. In the prolonged absence of Gary Neville, experienced internationals Rio Ferdinand, Edwin van der Sar and Ryan Giggs stepped seamlessly into the breach.) So, on one level, the manager had his team full of captains in name if not in practice but the reality was that he still sought the natural successor to Tony Adams and Patrick Vieira, and the club had won nothing since the latter’s departure.
Those captains exemplified the power and the desire – key characteristics of success in the Premiership – which, along with pace and technique, were the cornerstones of Wenger’s philosophy. If the absence of muscular virility had been compensated for by an excess of attacking zeal, then maybe the deficiencies could have been glossed over but Fabregas and Samir Nasri apart, the lack of invention in midfield was reflected by the predictability of the approach work. Notably absent was the effortless zip and penetration of previous seasons. Too often, the one-touch play floundered against a massed defence, as the team was funneled into the centre where space was at such a premium that attacks were rebuffed with relative ease (a pattern that was aided by Wenger’s choice of players on the flanks who preferred to cut in). It was instructive that the best displays tended to come against the better teams who played a more expansive game, thus allowing Arsenal more space and time in which to retain possession and fashion chances. But over the course of 38 games there were inevitably far more encounters against lesser teams where the absence of experienced professionals who coped with everything their opponents, the crowd and occasionally even the referees threw at them, came home to roost. As Tony Adams argued: “You have to beat a lot of teams. You can draw against Manchester United and Liverpool, they’re irrelevant. If you beat the bottom ten home and away you’ll win the league. So, if they come here and defend, go at them. Try and score in the first 20 minutes. I would get after them.”
The inability to create opportunities continued with a succession of four league 0-0 draws soon after the turn of the year. It was the first time the club had endured such a pitiful sequence since the terminal decline of the George Graham era, and some fans with long memories even questioned whether the personnel were much better than their predecessors from that wretched 1994/95 season. The situation was exacerbated by the loss of the best player, Cesc Fabregas, to a knee injury in December and a three month stint on the sidelines.
As David Dein commented with dismay, “The crowd have started to turn against Arsène.” There were a growing number of supporters who felt that the manager could no longer take the club forward. And even the less sensationalist media highlighted the issue. “Should Arsène Wenger Be Sacked?” asked The Daily Telegraph. Possession remained the manager’s priority, but divorced from a cutting edge and with defensive deficiencies still apparent, few points were garnered. Unlike their main rivals, Arsenal could not seem to win on a habitual basis when they were under-performing. Doubts began to
grow about whether – for the first time in over a decade – they might not finish in the top four and thus miss out on the lucrative Champions League the following season when Aston Villa overhauled them and slowly began to pull away as the curtain fell on 2008.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
Unlike the other major European leagues whose winter breaks allow them to concentrate more time on the transfer window, in England it was business as usual. Arsène Wenger faced the twin tasks of collecting sufficient points to qualify for the Champions League and securing the necessary transformation in his playing resources to make it happen. Pursuing his own course, contrary to what most fans thought the team urgently needed – a central defender and a midfield enforcer – Wenger enthusiastically chased Andrey Arshavin, the Russian international striker from Zenit St Petersburg. Even by normal standards, the first transfer Ivan Gazidis oversaw in his new job of Arsenal CEO was a baptism of fire. Arriving from the MLS, where central negotiating of players’ contracts, salary caps and budgetary control are the order of the day, Gazidis was astounded by the lack of regulation. “One of the great attractions of the Premier League is that it is a bit like the Wild West,” he observed. “It surprises me that we have allowed football to come to a point where there are so many unscrupulous operators and third parties taking money out of the game.” Yet the Premier League was a well-oiled machine compared to Russia.
In autumn 2008, Ken Friar had set the ball rolling on the Arshavin negotiations for Gazidis. “I was involved from the beginning because Ivan Gazidis came in January and that deal started well before then,” he confirms. With more experience than most in the whys and wherefores of the transfer system, Friar was fortunately on hand as the newcomer, who was now running the club on a day-to-day basis, came to grips with a very different sporting culture to that he had become accustomed to.