Well this was a weird one. There I was all tucked up in bed nice and warm with a petite brunette wrapped around me as my alarm went off. It was 8am Saturday morning and my day off. I had two choices. Stay in bed and enjoy the comforts of a lie-in, or get up, go out into the cold and drive to London to watch Sunderland most likely lose at Arsenal.

I went for the latter and was snogged, showered and in the car with a cup of coffee in hand by 8.15 and strangely looking forward to the match. My glow of enthusiasm was not based on our possible points return, but the opportunity to share the craic of the day, the road trip and down a few pints before the match.

On the face of it, and taking into account our recent form, this was a match we had to win and the optimists amongst the red and white army would point out that Arsenal have very little up front these days, had just returned from a hard game in Portugal on Wednesday during which their goalkeeper was, well crap and that we’ve already beaten them once this season!

However, the pessimists may well mention that going into this match we’d not won a league game for four calendar months and despite The Gunner’s defence looking particularly poor against Porto, they are still a class act and the only point in visiting London today was for the social scenario, not soccer success and league points!

My head agreed with the glass half empty crew, while my heart prayed that the glass half full posse would be proved right come 5pm.

Once in London we quickly found a bar, paid a ridiculous price for crap beer and discussed past matches against Arsenal. We recalled the time we left the pub a little late and arrived at Highbury as some SAFC fans were already leaving despite the time only being 3.09pm! This was during that latter days of Peter Reid and we were 2-0 down after what seemed like sixty seconds. We took this cautionary tales as our cue to leave the boozer immediately and head to The Emirates.

Once inside the ground and the team was announced... we lined up as follows playing 4-5-1: Gordon, Hutton, McCartney, Turner, Mensah, Campbell, Ferdinand, Cana (C), Richardson, Bent, Jones. Subs: Carson, Bardsley, Da Silva, Kilgallon, Zenden, Malbranque, Benjani.

I thought that with so many midfielders injured and our defenders all fit Bruce may be tempted to play a centre half alongside Cana. I wasn't wrong but I'd have gone for Paulo da Silva not Anton Ferdinand. Still I'm not the manager. It took Anton most of the first half to realise what was going on and that he had less time on the ball than at centre half. Elsewhere Jones was up from alone, but we had Bent and Campbell supporting him on the flanks in a supposed four, three, two, one formation.

By the time I'd worked out the style of play we were one down when Bendtner side-footed in from what looked an offside position. Bruce then put Anton to left back and George Sausages to centre mid. Bizarre.

Half time brought rest bite and a pint and a thirty minute rendition of Gary Rowell World which had to be seen (or heard) to be believed. We are talking everyone ignoring matters on the pitch and having a sing song in the concourse much to the amusement of the bar staff and the police. I'm sure it'll be on YouTube sooner rather than later.

Somehow we kept it to one nil despite Arsenal pressure, however Jones and Bent both had one on ones with Alnunia either side of the break which would have brought us level if they'd converted them.

In the end after working hard and having a few chances, the referee handed Arsenal an injury time penalty which finished us off and sent us home without a win since November. Not good. We've got to beat Fulham next weekend or we'll go into March without a win since November and that's five months by my calendar.

Final Score: 2-0

ALS Man Of The Match: The Gary Rowell Crew

Jason Alexander

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