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Watford 2 Arsenal 2 (15/09/2019) 16/09/2019

Posted by Matt Rowson in Match reports.
1 comment so far

1- Episode Three of the first Series of Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast discusses basketball.  Not a game I can claim any great expertise in;  we played a violent bastardisation of the game at school, but that hardly qualifies informed comment.

Anyway.  Wilt Chamberlain.  Great basketball player, says Malcolm and people who Know About These Things.  Remarkable, amongst other things, for taking his penalty shots underarm.  People don’t do that, says Malcolm.  Chamberlain’s not quite unique, but he’s certainly unusual in this regard…  and unusually successful.  Extraordinary (again, second hand knowledge, take that as read…).

Except at one point, despite his huge success, he stopped.   Reverted to the conventional shooting method with unremarkable results.  Because he felt pressured by the consensus against him, despite the success of the strategy.  Others questioned in the episode concurred… despite being induced to attempt underarm, observing the success, they wouldn’t consider underarm shooting in a competitive game.  Because it would “look weird”.

So when Sam leans over my shoulder and expresses concern that we’re a laughing stock, that our regular turnover of head coaches is, by implication, weird…  unusual… Well, you just gotta shrug and grin. Not that this justifies any such decision on the part of our owners and management but…  five seasons in the Premier League, two cup semi finals and one final in that time is testimony to us not doing too badly by it.  Not sure we should give a stuff what anyone else thinks, whoever they are.

2- And so Quique’s back, and inevitably he’s given a warm welcome because such is the way of things in such situations even if the man in question isn’t a good bloke from recent memory.  His first team selection is encouraging in its shape…  a return to the 4-2-3-1 of Marco Silva’s brief successful period with Tom restored to the buzzing around role in front of two sitting midfielders, Étienne Capoue stepping into the role vacated by Nathaniel Chalobah after his knee injury.  More odd was an extremely conservative bench, no out-and-out striker with Welbeck (reportedly injured in training on Friday) and Success omitted from the squad.

And we start aggressively. Actually, scrub that… we start like what one imagines a pack of dogs looks like. Chasing everything down. Reducers going in left, right, centre. Arsenal are given nowhere to hide as we set up with a solid shape, let the visitors pass sideways inconsequentially on the half way line and mug them brutally should they make the mistake of getting ideas above their station. This yields some half-chances from distance… Holebas drives narrowly wide, Tom Cleverley thumps an effort top corner that Leno shoves over. If there’s a problem it’s that Andre Gray is being asked to do an awful lot. He makes a game effort, his most convincing imitation of a target man to date… hurling himself between incoming ball and opponent, contorting himself to deflect a lay off but he’s too isolated, and too often we’re passing around the edge of the area without much of a focal point to aim for.

3- And then Arsenal score. The visitors have been warming up, Pépé cutting in from the right and curling a shot wide but too close. Then there’s a scruffy tackle on the halfway line in which Hughes is bullied off the ball… there are protests on and off the pitch but having spent much of the game up to this point gauging how much aggression we could get away with and deciding, well, quite a lot actually we didn’t have a leg to stand on here (literally, in Will Hughes’ case). Of more concern is the doziness of the defence and the gaping chasm at Ben Foster’s near post (again), but Aubameyang’s finish is breathtaking.

We go flat, very quickly; on and off the pitch everyone’s thinking the same thing. “But we’d started so well, why can’t we defend…”… and the visitors have their foot on our throat. Aubameyang nearly scores a second before he actually does, and it’s far far too easy, Maitland-Niles slipping in down the right, not for the first time, and finding the Gabonese for a tap in.

The half ends with a bit of a scrap on the halfway line in which Matteo Guendouzi earns a booking for being an idiot, Jose Holebas seems slightly harsher done by but looks in danger of outstripping the big-haired French youngster by taking prolonged and typically forthright issue with the officials on the half time whistle. He gets away with it, and maybe we do too despite the scoreline.

4- The second half, as you’ll know, is a remarkable thing. We owe a lot to our visitors, though, who as it turns out were pretty much ideal opponents for Quique’s first game back. They were miserably undeserving of their win here five months ago; here (with only three of that starting eleven starting here, incidentally) they are more spectacularly inept, and tactically not least.

Quite why a side that excels up front but can’t defend for toffee thinks that sitting on a two goal lead is the way forward is beyond me for one thing. Why, further, a defence that was repeatedly warned off faffing around at the back by being brutally mugged by ever more encouraged opponents in front of a lenient referee continued to faff around is incomprehensible.

Not our problem. In the end, after many occasions in which the nervousness of our attack was measured against the generosity of Arsenal’s defence and came out just wanting, we are given the most extraordinary of clear chances as Sokratis plays another loose ball in the box and Tom Cleverley drives home. The Quique song returns with gusto not, in fairness, that he had much to do with Sokratis’ critical assist.

As an aside, the “third man” in a midfield three is an easier one to impress in. Al Bangura used to look outstanding as the spare man sitting behind Gavin Mahon and Matt Spring when such was necessary and all he had to do was kick whatever came through without any great disciplinary responsibility; similarly the hole behind the striker is a sandpit to play in. Tom doesn’t half do it well though and he’s quite tremendous today combining perpetual motion and relentless positivity with just being bloody sensible, a rare combination.

5- It’s relentless. We swarm all over Arsenal, one minute slinging the ball from wing to wing to find a spare man, then snarling into challenges to reclaim possession. We’d questioned the lack of striking options on the bench; actually all three subs are well judged and a force for good. Ismaïla Sarr is better suited to wide open spaces than the physical confrontation of the penalty area you suspect but does a sound enough job here, controlling an extraordinary sharp pass from Deulofeu, spinning and clipping a shot across the face of goal in one fluid movement. Daryl Janmaat’s cameo is a typically bombastic one, no surprise to see him thunder into the penalty area late on. And if Roberto Pereyra takes a while to warm up himself, once he gets going he really gets going; a tidal wave of a counter attack reaches the Argentine who makes a bee-line for Luiz. Dribbling yourself the hell into the penalty area has been a deliberate tactic and the Brazilian finally obliges, lazily. Leno is graceless and witless in his attempts to slow things down and distract, and gets what he deserves – a fine, composed finish from the Argentine.

You can come full circle back to that basketball analogy again if you want, since the end of the game is ridiculously open. The visitors start to venture upfield again and the stupidity of their reluctance to do so earlier is betrayed by Joe Willock’s progress in running half the length of the pitch before being scruffily halted (having missed a chance to release Aubameyang). The bulk of the business is at the other end though. Chance after chance to the backing track of Elton John’s Taylor-Made Army on what would have been the great man’s seventy-fifth birthday… the relentlessly penetrative Deulofeu slugs a shot a hair’s breadth wide, Tom Cleverley pumps another shot top corner that is blocked, unwittingly, by David Luiz’s head. Doucouré rampages through the midfield and releases Sarr, who threads a ball back to the Frenchman who just needs to put his laces through it but doesn’t, steering a shot too close to the keeper before collapsing with his head in his hands.

It isn’t quite enough for the win. But it’s more than enough in the grand scheme of things. This is huge fun and a massive result in the heroic, bloody-minded combativeness of the second half that dragged us back from two goals down. Quique’s got things to sort, clearly, but this was already significant progress all over the pitch. The wins will come.

Yooorns.

 

Foster 3, Femenía 4, Holebas 3, Dawson 3, Kabasele 3, Capoue 4, Doucouré 4, *Cleverley 5*, Hughes 3, Deulofeu 5, Gray 3
Subs: Sarr (for Gray, 54) 4, Pereyra (for Hughes, 63) 3, Janmaat (for Holebas, 78) 0, Foulquier, Mariappa, Chalobah, Gomes

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In with the even older 07/09/2019

Posted by Matt Rowson in Thoughts about things.
10 comments

International breaks.  Dull as hell, aren’t they?  Particularly this one, not even a month into the season.  We’ve barely got going. And having chosen not to spend brownie points on Newcastle it’s two weeks into a three week slog.  Driving back from a thing with the wife and kids, half listening to the England game and the news breaks.

Whatever your reaction, to Javi’s departure, it’s surely not surprise.  As countless pub-bore pundits have no doubt already reminded you, this is What Watford Do.  (One might be forgiven for thinking that this is ALL Watford have done, since getting promoted, such is the limited range of opinion of such pundits.  Chelsea, Huddersfield, Fulham, Southampton and West Brom have all had three managers during Javi’s Watford reign, incidentally).

If there’s a surprise it’s that the change comes halfway through the break rather than at the beginning of it.  If a change was being made then the decision was surely already made and so little to gain by delaying appointing an out-of-work replacement.

But the decision itself, I think, was always coming.  Javi Gracia has been a successful, utterly likeable, gracious and unpretentious head coach but problems with the team have been evident and are down to him.  The poor results at the end of last season came with all sorts of mitigating factors and context – the Cup Final, the suspension to Troy which was all the captain’s fault and which we struggled to accommodate as we’re struggling in the wake of his injury now.

But this season’s form has been miserable.  In particular the defensive shape of the side has been, well, indefensible. The back four have all been criticised individually, but a set-up that asks full-backs to provide all the width, effectively playing as wing-backs with two centre-backs behind them is only going to end one way.  We have the greatest array of attacking talent we’ve ever had but haven’t looked like exploiting it.  We’ve been far, far too easy to hurt.

Too soon?  Too harsh?  Maybe.  But we know the drill by now.  We know that Scott and Gino aren’t going to sit on their hands and see how things turn out, we know that they believe a head coach has a limited shelf life. And in reality they can’t afford to prevaricate; after four games from which we might have expected, say, seven points we have one with tougher challenges to come.

Then half an hour later, the confirmation that Quique was back.  And this took a bit more time to get my head around.  On the plus side…  lovely bloke.  Knows how to sort a defence, very quickly drilled a side that had been playing open expansive football four years ago and took us to mid-table and a Cup semi.  On the minus…  his tendency towards favourites, ostracising faces that didn’t fit (José Holebas must be delighted). The pathetic tailing off of our first season after he felt his job was done – the defeat at Carrow Road that season remains perhaps the weakest since promotion.

But against that…  he’s being hired by the people that employed him then.  They know what happened, and they know what they’re getting.  And nothing speaks for the sound structures that we’ve all boasted so comprehensively of, the way that a head coach is a cog at this club rather than defining the machine, that both Duxbury and Flores are happy to resume their partnership.

Some kind of change was clearly needed.  How this one turns out will be fascinating.

Yooorns.