Chelsea 2 v 0 Arsenal

Chelsea 2 v 0 Arsenal

Predictably, but nonetheless bitterly, disappointing.

Szczesny

Chambers Mertersaker Koscielny Gibbs

Cazorla Flamini Wilshire

Alexis Welbeck Ozil

I keep notes. Despite the seemingly effortless rubbish I manage to churn out, there's a lot of behind the scenes effort going in here. My notes for this game say:

“Hazard breaks into our box and gets something; Jack breaks into theirs and get us nothing.”

A theme to be repeated, as Wenger continues to leave shortcomings unaddressed.

That's all I wrote other than:

“Predictable.”

and:

“Not at the races, really.”

Sport is unlike anything else on earth. In lots of ways. Including being an absolutely transparent measure. There's none of this:

Final score: 3 – 1

Seasonally adjusted final score for fatigue and the school-leaver factor (a trip down Thatcherite number-twisting statistic-fiddling memory lane, there): 3 – 1.75

Final score taking transfer window money spent: 2.5 – 2.25

Final score taking possession and purity of intent into account: 2 – 4

Two-nil is two-nil is two-nil. “What”, as the batter tells the bowler after a streaky four through slip's hands off the edge of the bat, “does the book say?”.

Sport is an opportunity to park the moral scruples and think about one and one thing only: winning. So. In the Lance Armstrong years, you simply couldn't win the Tour de France, clean. That's what Wenger wants to do. If you don't cheat, if you refuse to get your players to put a foot through opponents who go missing when the day gets painful, if you will not wind up easily wound (and booked and sent off) opposing players, if you won't detail someone to spend the game on the referee's case (beginning with disputing the coin-toss) until that player gets booked then having someone else take over official-berating duties, then you have to be shedloads better than everyone else to succeed. If you're a smidge better, and willing to push the envelope of what's allowed, and ruthless as anything with massive attention to detail, you may, just may win something.

Little things niggle me. Unprofessional. I would, for example, spend time briefing the ballboys and ballgirls. Winning narrowly, take your time. Losing narrowly, hurry the hell up. On top at 0-0, hurry the hell up. I'd monitor their performance, too. Add all the little things up, maybe three, four points a season. The difference between lifting a trophy and just lifting the cash-heavy fourth place wallet.