Apparently a team’s whole season can be summed up by the first three matches alone by use of modern day football analytical methods. A forensic model is used, with the results fed in, then a picture is created as to how the season will finish. In other words any gobshite (pundit surely. Ed) who wishes to pontificate can announce the outcome on grand slam Sunday. On the basis of this highly scientific method Arsenal's and Liverpool’s season, or at least league challenge, finished two weeks ago.

Now all this is to be expected from the media, after all good news and reasoned debate does not sell as many newspapers, or provide rating records, as effectively as doom, gloom, crisis and old bollocks.

Shooting Lark

And when Alan Hansen started the over elaborate craze, and the need to win ugly theory it’s hardly surprising that a crowd of empty heads jumped on the bandwagon. Arsene gave his answer, big clubs don’t win ugly, and proceeded to defeat Manchester United, against the expectations of just about every pundit. Lesser mortals draw a different conclusion, and shout shoot at every opportunity.

So when Arsenal set out to play Sheffield United as the conquerors of Old Trafford they could expect a good response, which they got. Adebayor’s name rang out like the Pompey chimes. But Sheffield refused to join in the celebrations, and did what most teams will do at Arsenal, defend in numbers, good luck to them, it’s not their job to commit suicide.

Arsenal started brightly enough, but found it hard to beat the United goalie, who made some great saves, and a defence that effectively blocked the way. It was then that some of the crowd, especially the idiot behind me began to shout shoot every time an Arsenal player reached the last third of the pitch. On one occasion Fabregas was surrounded by three players, but it didn’t stop the idiot shouting shoot. I thought, perhaps he was joking, but I turned round to check, and saw a face full of rage at the ineptitude of it all. This guy was serious.

Now it seems to me that the idea that matches are only won by 30 yard screamers is not only wrong, but also futile. Indeed the Gunners had tried a few, but they found their efforts blocked by defenders, or saved by good keeping. Players have to be able to judge when to shoot, or when to pass. It’s not an easy judgement, that’s one reason why the rewards are so high. What they do not need is people shouting shoot at every possible moment. What they need is the crowd to get behind them. To be fair most of the crowd did, and well done to the youngsters who used the back wall of the stadium as a massive drum. We can make this place home.

Of course it was frustrating getting to 64 minutes and still be at 0-0. But Arsenal fans might have to get used to it, as it what most teams will do at the new arena. Indeed the past weighs like a nightmare on the minds of the living. Fans and players, understandably get anxious, as they fear a repeat of what has gone before. But fans need to be patient; and the team not to concede, and score whenever they can, however late. Indeed it was fortunate that Arsenal were not a goal down at half time. I groaned as Sheffield found the net, fortunately the referee had already blown for a high boot. I had feared a rerun of Villa and Boro, but with 0-0 at half time I knew we would do it.

On 65 minutes it all changed, it was wing work by Henry that found Fabregas, who passed to Gallas. It all happened so quickly that the wag behind me didn’t have time to shout shoot, but Gallas is no fool, he doesn’t need advice from any armchair football maestro, he didn’t shoot, he smashed it, he volleyed it, in to the top of the net. The stadium erupted, Gallas went mad, and the crowd went wild.

People were shouting Gallas, "it’s Gallas", almost in disbelief, but also in the knowledge of what it really meant to Gallas, Arsenal, and Mourinho. Henry was so delighted for his French comrade.

As the match resumed the crowd sang "are you watching Ashley Cole?" Once again Henry passed the Blades defence down the wing, and crossed a competent ball through the penalty area. Somebody must have shouted shoot because Jagielka put the ball in the net without a Gunner in sight (see it does work you miserable so and so. Ed).

Now the crowd were in heaven, no nerves, no cries of shoot, and within minutes the third goal came. Someone in the crowd must have yelled header because that’s what Henry did with Eboue’s low cross. In the past he would have tried a bicycle kick, or a flying side scissors kick. As the press hacks hastened to remind us, quite correctly, headers are unusual for the great man. But that was before Henry switched to Reebok, now every goal will be with his head (what’s the point of having boots then? Ed), so no point in screaming shoot at him now.

The crowd left happy, forgetting the misery of the first 65 minutes, all that mattered was that Mark Lawrenson had broken his four wrong predictions in a row record, his worst start to a season ever. He has now cancelled the workman who were going to dig up his garden to find the dead chicken rumoured to be buried there. But you won’t be out of work lads, Martin Jol needs you, something about a cannon under the patio.