Arsènal (12 page)

The sense of a supreme side at the peak of its powers was such that the media – with its collective tongue firmly planted in its cheek – asked Wenger whether it would be possible for the team to go unbeaten for an entire season. “It will be difficult but we can do it,” was the unexpected reply. “It was done by Milan and I can't see why we cannot do it this season. Other teams think exactly the same but they don't say it because they're scared of looking ridiculous.” Or indeed setting themselves up for a large dose of hubris, although Wenger had the last laugh when his team did actually achieve the feat in May 2004. Recalling the scenario some years later, he said, “When you win and [then] you have lost a game you think, ‘Maybe we could have done better there.' But when you do not lose any games you do not have those questions. We lost the title in 2003 but we had done the double the year before. I asked the players after the summer break what had gone wrong. They said, ‘It's because of you, Boss.' I said, ‘Yes, OK, but why do you really think you lost.' They said again, ‘No, Boss, it was because of you. You put so much pressure on us by saying we would go the whole season unbeaten.' I said to them, ‘All right then, but I'm going to say it again. You can go through the whole season without losing. I believe in you.' Normally when you win the title the team loses the next match. It happens every year. But that year [2004] we had won the title with some games to go and when we played as champions they made sure they did not lose. It meant the seed had been planted in their minds. It took a while to come but in the end they achieved what they didn't think was possible.”

“I think in that period when we were going on the pitch, we knew that we were going to win the game,” recalls Patrick Vieira. “I think Arsène created at this moment the belief that we were the best and even when we were 1–0 or 2–0 down we knew that we were going to win the game or take a point. So we really believed that we were the best. The way we were playing, the way we believed in each other was unbelievable.”

Yet the backlash after the long unbeaten runs were brusquely terminated raised the question of how a group so seemingly resolute and unconquerable can suddenly fall away in such an alarming fashion merely because they lose a game. Certainly Arsène Wenger has a case to answer. Perhaps the reason lies in the coaching or rather the lack of it. The focus is on maximising ability, improving skills, developing into better technicians. “He makes an average player into a good player, a good player into a very good player and a very good player into a world-class player,” according to David Dein, but he doesn't specifically teach them how to win. As a result of enhancing the attributes Wenger holds dear – pace, power, skill, creative thinking and desire – victory should be the natural consequence, the end product. And with such productive end results winning has become accepted as the norm. Losing is not contemplated and therefore everyone – players and coaches alike – are dumbfounded when it happens. The ‘unbelievable belief' coined by Paul Merson has a flip side when the faith is punctured. There seems no fallback position from which to regroup. A collective trauma invades the group. It is as if they have forgotten how to lose, or at least how to react positively to defeat, so unexpected is it.

Wenger may be a master manager, but it seems that he has no solutions when the unthinkable happens, no way of countering the doubt when infallibility is disproved. His words may sound re-assuring (“I think you will be surprised by my team's reaction. They will react strongly on Tuesday,” he said after the Everton defeat in October 2002, only to see his side lose at home to Auxerre in the Champions League) but they seem full of self-delusion, at least if the response of the players is anything to go by. Bizarrely, given his teams endure so few setbacks, they are tarnished with an Achilles' heel of mental fragility, which is often brought up by Alex Ferguson, implying that he doesn't suffer from the same chronic condition. Could it be that a more pragmatic manager might have actually restored equilibrium more quickly in the autumns of 2002 and 2004 and provided a very talented group with the strength of purpose to go on and win League Championships rather than FA Cups the following May? In response, Wenger might justifiably argue that a more pragmatic manager might not be able to create a team that could go unvanquished for so long in the first place. However, for supporters and manager alike it's difficult to close the book on the ones that got away.

Wenger himself admits, “I am very critical with myself. I believe as well when you do not lose for 49 games it's such a long period, when you keep always the team under tension. When you get there and suddenly you lose the game you start here again and you say to your players and they think, 49 games, we will never make that again. And you have to tell them, ‘Now my friends, we climb back there again and you do 50.' And they say, ‘Come on, give us a breather a little bit, we just did 49 games.' So what I mean is defeat is very difficult to take. When I was very young it was very difficult to take because it was such a big disappointment. And then you hate so much to lose. When you are more experienced, you anticipate all the problems and the difficulties you will face because you know the consequences. You can anticipate the confidence will go down, the motivation goes down, the understanding in the team will be less good, less spontaneous and you have to respond to all that. The longer the period goes the more difficult it is to act as if nothing has happened. It depends as well on the cycle of the team. If the cycle of the team goes to an end and they have done that 49 games and they lose, sub consciously they think, we have done our best. If it's a young team, the next game, they go again.”

In 2002/03, while Wenger was awaiting to discover the final component of his new back four (Kolo Toure would solve the missing link), the team seemed bereft of the figure of calmness and authority conspicuous by its absence since Tony Adams retired. Martin Keown was in the twilight of his career and Pascal Cygan, brought from Lille, had proved disappointingly inconsistent. With their own high standards slipping both David Seaman and Sol Campbell were looking increasingly vulnerable. The late, late strike by Rooney for Everton had established an unfortunate precedent. Away to Liverpool, Newcastle, Aston Villa and Bolton, leads were lost and points sacrificed. Even at Highbury, Manchester United perpetuated the pattern by coming from behind to gain a 2–2 draw. That game saw Sol Campbell dismissed with the consequence that he missed the run-in, including a home defeat to Leeds that confirmed the trophy presentation would take place at Manchester United's next game. Such was the alarming loss of confidence in their ability to hold onto a lead that a fortnight after the title concession, the FA Cup Final against Southampton witnessed the unedifying sight of Robert Pires taking the ball to the corner flag in the closing stages to use up time. This was anything but total football. It was a sad reflection on the heights they had scaled earlier in the season but they realised that in the cold light of day they might end up empty-handed. Regardless of the manager's philosophy, the players determined the entertainment was over. They were going to make sure that they had a tangible reward for their efforts.

The summer break and a productive 2003 pre-season got the show back on the road. Not only did the team rediscover its touch but it went on to post the record breaking 49-match unbeaten run and land another title in the process. “My ambition was always to go a whole season without losing,” said Wenger. For him and all purists the league reigns supreme. There is only one answer to the question of which is the best team – the league champions. The league is the only competition that represents the strength and depth of the domestic game. It is football in its purest, fairest form. Everybody plays everybody else, home and away; three points for a win, one for a draw and none for a defeat. There are no bonus points. Away goals are not worth more. There is no extra time, replays, penalty shoot-outs, golden or silver goals. So 2003/04 was the finest Arsenal season ever: played 38, won 26, drew 12, lost 0. It was arguably also the finest league season ever by an English club.

What made the exploit all the more remarkable was that it was accomplished by playing offensively. The team went out with a philosophy to subdue their opponents by skilful interplay. It was a heady mix of abilities that ensured the team could appear audacious, even wanton (Henry, Pires and Vieira even became known as the three musketeers) but crucially, the screening qualities of Gilberto in central midfield allowed his teammates to boldly go out on a limb and additionally he would often cover for a defender caught out of position if an attack did break down suddenly. He performed a similar role to the one he had carried out for Brazil in winning the 2002 World Cup, and had he not needed a period of assimilation, Arsenal could well have secured three league titles in a row. It may be no coincidence that on the two occasions Arsenal's first choice selection lost to English opposition that season (Manchester United in the FA Cup and Chelsea in the Champions League) Gilberto was absent due to illness. His calm comportment compensated for the element of defensive composure the club had lost with the retirement of Tony Adams.

Thus the scene was set for some of the finest approach work, passing and movement that English supporters had ever set eyes upon as all and sundry were taken apart. Often the side were applauded off the field away from home by opposition fans who were knowledgeable enough to appreciate that they were witnessing something extra ordinary. A 5–1 sixth round FA Cup drubbing for Portsmouth drew a standing ovation from all four sides of Fratton Park. Such was the admiration and so many the plaudits that once they had secured the title, it felt as if thousands of non-Arsenal supporters (with certain obvious abstentions from Manchester and parts of London) were actually willing them to go on and finish unbowed. It was a rare time when exhibitions of such purity transcended the traditional parochial resentment that is endemic to football fans. After overhauling Nottingham Forest's 42-match unbeaten run Brian Clough said, “Arsenal are nothing short of incredible.” And then, true to form, “They could have been nearly as good as us.” For good measure, he added that they “caress a football the way I dreamed of caressing Marilyn Monroe.” And although obviously biased, Dennis Bergkamp's view, “This is the closest I have seen to the Dutch concept of total football” must be taken at face value. And such excellent notices were not restricted to England. “When I travel abroad,” said Wenger, “it made a major impact because people know how difficult it is to play a whole season unbeaten.” For football purists, it bettered the near perfection of Arsenal's 1990/91 title in two respects. George Graham's team suffered a single defeat in the 38 outings, and Wenger's side were renowned more for what they did going forward than in defence. It was an irony then that, having secured their status as champions, they took their foot off the pedal and ended up with a goal less than Graham's team, totalling 73 by the end of the season. However, when the Invincibles met their denouement, lightning struck again and a serious challenge for the title was not mounted until the team had been rebuilt.

There was undoubtedly a sense of injustice at the turn of events that saw the unbeaten run come to an end at Old Trafford on 24th October 2004, a venue where incidents often play a pivotal role in the outcome of Arsenal's season. They justifiably felt hard done by due to Rooney's penalty award (the key moment of the game, a late second goal being largely academic) and the perceived thuggery of their opponents. Weak refereeing allowed Gary Neville, Ruud van Nistelrooy (subsequently banned for three matches for a challenge missed by the referee) and Rio Ferdinand to make their presence felt in exchanges where the existence of a ball seemed incidental. The hostility was a hangover from the previous season's encounter at the same venue, when the away team rounded on Van Nistelrooy at the final whistle, so perturbed were they by his theatrics and unsporting play in earning a last minute penalty which he subsequently missed. The FA determined though, by the fines and bans they handed out to Arsenal personnel, that United were more sinned against than sinners.

With their unbeaten run ended, once inside the tunnel the Arsenal players let their opponents know how unfairly they felt they had been treated, resulting in an argument between the two managers. Ferguson, at the door of the visitors' dressing room told Wenger to control his players, before some post-match refreshment was thrown at the United manager, although precisely what it was is dependent on which tabloid version of events that became known as ‘Soupgate' and ‘Pizzagate' is to be believed. What is in no doubt is that such was the extent of the melee, United's security staff had to separate representatives of the two clubs. Wenger probably felt that he had been stitched up by his
bête noire
so there was never any likelihood of him admitting that maybe there should be some internal self-questioning and recrimination. Unfortunately, this holier-than-thou position ceded the moral argument to Ferguson, who was able to claim with some justification, his own reputation as a bad loser notwithstanding, “To not apologise for the behaviour of [his] players is unthinkable. It's a disgrace. But I don't expect him ever to apologise.” The hubbub aside, most critically, Arsenal failed to just accept that they had been the victims of poor refereeing and downright unlucky, and move on. Rather, a team that (as two years before) was lauded as one of the best ever club sides the world had ever seen, allowed the incident to undermine them and a more resilient Chelsea to take the initiative and establish a convincing lead in the title contest.

The players take their cue from the manager. Arsène Wenger is a modest, self-effacing philosopher who finds it easy enough to move on from triumph, never resting on his laurels or enjoying his success. “With your club it is a love story that you expect will last forever and also accept that you could leave tomorrow,” he reflects. Which is perhaps why he agonises over defeats, running over in his mind the factors that produced the unexpected. But he doesn't roll with the punches. Recovery takes too long, and his team seems to follow his lead. Although aware of the dangers – “the face of the manager,” he admits, “is a mirror to the health of his team” – too much time and energy are expended on self-pity. Even the Invincibles' season was nearly halted in its tracks after elimination from the FA Cup and the Champions League in the space of four days. In their subsequent league fixture at home to Liverpool, they found themselves 2–1 down at the interval. It took what was arguably Thierry Henry's finest performance in an Arsenal shirt to turn the game around and get the quest for the Premiership back on track with a 4–2 victory.