Thierry Henry and the Art of Petulance

Now there are very few footballers who've given us more pleasure than the man known round norf Laahndan way as Terry 'Enry. A paragon of style, an exemplar of fluid grace, a capo de tutti capi of cool. An utterly modern footballer, in that he could not have existed, in British football at least, in any previous generation, yet he epitomises an intelligence and class apart from most of his current fellow professionals.

But, my God, he's turning into Naomi Campbell, isn't he?

It could be to do with an advancing self-importance, brought about by years of the type of gushing praise contained in the first paragraph above. Or it could be the insiduous manifestation of suppressed frustration at his own decision to stay at Arsenal last summer and spurn the chance to become a Catalactico at Barcelona (in this scenario he would be much like the daughter in a Tom Murphy play, forced to stay at home to look after an ailing but indestructible mother, lamenting the withering of the flower of her youth).

Whatever, it seems these days that Thierry Henry attracts attention as often for petted-lip displays of petulance as for demonstrations of his sublime talents.

It started back at that Champions League final against Barcelona, when his post-match interview sounded more like the words of a trash-talking professional wrestling star than an erstwhile proponent of insouciant class.

Then there was the sulky huffiness to which he responded to his pre-Christmas 'rest', enforced on him by his manager (and redoubtable matriarch in the aforementioned Tom Murphy metaphor) Arsene Wenger. Reportedly, last December, Henry flounced out of training in response to Wenger's diagnosis of his fitness, specifically to being told that he would not play in the north London derby on December 2nd.

When the two publicly made up, it appeared that Henry had accepted that Wenger knew what was good for him. "I must stop for at least a month for the pain to go away, but I did not squabble with Arsene," he said, before adding "yes, I did get angry about it because I cannot help out my team on the pitch. It's something I find hard to accept."

Then last Sunday Henry was criticised for goading Wigan goalkeeper Chris Kirkland following Arsenal's 81st minute equaliser, having been incensed by Kirkland's perceived time-wasting earlier in the match.

So is Mr.Va-Va-Voom turning into a Grumpy Old Man?

Of course with the artist comes the artistic temperament. After the alleged row with Wenger in December a French Sunday newspaper quoted an unnamed French international as saying that Henry was "an enormous bighead who cannot take criticism". Unlike Naomi Campbell, however, who belives erroneously that being an overpaid clothes-hanger earns the right to spectacular strops, Henry's talent buys patience.

It bought him months of agonizing over his future in that deeply uncertain period until his ultimate decision to stay at Arsenal. Arsene Wenger is a well-known pragmatic, reknowned for bringing the appliance of science into an English game more used to the lager and fry-up method of match preparation. He refuses to give contracts of longer than a year to players over 30, exhibiting an Orwellian ruthlessness to the geriatric community borne of an immunity to sentiment.

Yet he clearly gave Henry as long as was necessary to come to his decision, and was open-hearted throughout about his wish for the striker to stay. Not for Wenger any negotiating table brinkmanship, or Benitez-style lack of affection. Whether the spirit or atmosphere inside the club was damaged at this time or not, for Henry, anything was possible.

So a little self-importance in the light of this veneration is unsurprising. And the use of the term 'spoilt' is unfair too: that would tend to suggest that there was something about the player that had been damaged. Sure, like many players who participated in the World Cup last year, he has been, at times, a little flat this season.

Yet, as his recent goal against Blackburn (a typically sweeping counter-attack, a combination with Cesc Fabregas and a magnificent looping shot into the top corner from the edge of the box) suggests, the artist remains in control of his genius.

Perhaps the little spat with Wenger in December was his manager's way of reasserting authority after the concessions to Henry's ego of the previous season, before he had committed his future to the club.

Still, Wenger knows that where his star turn is concerned, a little petulance is a part of the package he is more than happy to tolerate.

Chelsea Send Out Distress Message

The beginning of the end for Jose? United lose their nerve 'ten minutes from title'? Liverpool as realistic title contenders? Arsenal too, maybe?

Trying to interpret the messages from Grand Slam weekend is almost like being in a NASA laboratory attempting to decipher what appears to be a communication from another planet: behind all the white noise and static, what does it say?

With just seven minutes to go in yesterday's match at the Emirates Stadium (which will have felt more like home for Arsenal fans than at any time since the move from Highbury, thanks to the memorable manner of their victory) the interpretation seemed clear: Manchester United were surely champions.

In a match of few clear-cut chances, they looked to have edged out one of their biggest rivals with the type of gritty performance usually seen as the hallmark of title-winners. Arsenal had rarely seriously threatened Edwin Van der Saar's goal, and with the clock ticking down, United looked to be effectively closing out a priceless win.

Three rare things - two whipped-in Arsenal crosses from wide and one Thierry Henry header - later and the champions-elect handed back their de facto crown.

Review and revise: United fumbled their big chance? Bottled it by shrinking back into defence of their lead?

Of course not. A draw would have been an appropriate result, the win flattering an Arsenal team who never imposed their game on the opposition. Certainly United attempted to close the game down from too far out, leaving themselves vulnerable to a team whose bite comes from many potential sources. But United were generally more impressive yesterday than in defeat to Arsenal at Old Trafford last September and remain the most convincing candidates for the title at this point.

It could be argued that they are flat-track bullies, having taken only four points from twelve in meetings with their main rivals this season. But in a league where the vast majority of the clubs resemble bespectacled playground weeds, the bully is king.

No, pretty much the only clear message coming out of the weekend whose hype was, for once, almost matched by the excitement on the pitch, was that the conflict between Chelsea's manager and their owner has reached a grave point, such that the team is unrecognisable from that which won the last two league titles.

The sources of the disagreement are well known: Jose Mourinho's frustration at the club's lack of transfer activity at a time when their defensive resources have been stripped bare; and the resentment caused by the failed signature of Andrij Shevchenko: from Roman Abramovich's viewpoint in the manager's inability to integrate him, and from Mourinho's due to the striker's favoured relationship with the owner.

The nature of this feud is cancerous, so malign are the attitudes of both sides. Mourinho's team were so obviously infected by their manager's defeatism before the game at Anfield on Saturday, that one almost suspected their feebleness to be planned. It's testament to our belief in anything being possible when it comes to Mourinho that we could consider him sending out his team to lose, so as to illustrate his point to Abramovich.

But in effect, even if not purposely, that is what his negative attitude succeeded in doing. Rather than attemting to inspire his team to an heroic triumph against the odds, Mourinho's side had all the fight of lemmings approaching a cliff-top.

This becomes the most significant point to emerge from the weekend because - unlike the other three top sides, who demonstrated at least aspects of their best qualities - Chelsea appeared utterly stripped of what made them the best team in England. The loss of such strength of spirit and unity of purpose is vastly more difficult to redress than mere bad form.

Perhaps the return of John Terry from injury could re-instill these lost virtues. But the salving of the wounds of an entire club would seem beyond any one player, no matter how influential.

The fragile but powerful balance of egos between Mourinho and Abramovich which made Chelsea so strong, so quickly, has been wildly disrupted, and the mess that has resulted on the field does not remotely resemble a championship winning team.

Champions League Sweet Sixteen

Podgy Swiss fingers were put to their best use other than the consumption of stacks of luxury handmade chocolates today as the Champions League second round (or last 16, if you wish to make it sound more exclusive) draw was made.

As is the norm when plastic balls are plucked from erstwhile goldfish bowls, some protagonists fare better than others. For every club exec chuckling with confidence during the post-draw canapés, there is another suit bawling in the corner, crying "Why??!"

On the face of it, Liverpool secretary Bryce Morrison, representing the 2005 champions in Nyon today, would be the inconsolable wretch, seeing as his club was paired with Barcelona. With admirable optimism, however, he refused to be cowed by the prospect of playing last season's free-flowing champions.

"We hope we can go all the way once again, starting with this big one!" quoth he, presumably too woozy from the complimentary wine to conjure the image of Ronaldinho slithering past a statuesque Sami Hyypia.

Whereas the Pool were ill-rewarded for their group-topping feats, the other English teams got the spawny draws one might expect from being seeded. As if to continue the theme of retribution for last year, Manchester United, having exacted revenge on Benfica in the group stage, will now get an opportunity to pay back Lille for defeating them at the Stade de France in the 2006-06 competition.

As with their superiority over Benfica, United have come on more than enough since losing to the French to go through comfortably.

Arsenal will undoubtedly make heavy work of PSV Eindhoven, but should also progress. The return of Jose Mourinho to Porto will provide what is generally dubbed "spice" to their tie, but the bold Jose is well used to whistles and boos - and his team will have little trouble there.

While all over Milan, impeccably shod and coiffed folks may have been rattling their improbably tiny coffee cups in pleasure at their team's draw against Celtic (arguably the weakest of the second seeds on paper); the corresponding celebratory clank of Tennents Special Export cans in the East End of Glasgow might also have been heard.

Milan are in what is known as a 'period of transition', which is a euphemism for being rubbish. Even without their 8 point deduction for match-fixing naughtiness, the Rossoneri would only have been in fifth in Serie A, rather than the 15th place in which they now languish. The loss of Shevchenko's goals has not been properly addressed, their three main strikers - Alberto Gilardino, Filippo Inzaghi and Ricardo Oliveira - only managing four league goals between them. Meanwhile Paolo Maldini and Cafu continue to wearily police the defence, and the team is generally over reliant on Kaka's creativity.

The other ties are rather tasty; perennial powerhouses Real Madrid and Bayern Munich meet, Valencia take on Inter and Roma face Lyon. Lyon are the team to tip these days when trying to show how shrewd a football judge you are, and it will be intriguing to see if they can finally reproduce in the latter stages their scintillating group stages form.

Its hard to see past old money, however: Barca, Real and Inter are still the front runners, with Chelsea the only new name that might get on the trophy.

Courageous Arsenal Worthy of Point

In the end, the Thin Red Line held out. Nine brave young privates - as well as Jens Lehmann and Gilberto Silva - against the four star generals of Chelsea. The Few scuppered the Many.

Arsenal supporters may baulk initially at the characterisation of their team in such lowly terms, being as we are the only two short calendar years since their team was dubbed "the Invincibles". Paul Merson, in the Sky studio, was certainly displeased at the caution of his team's first half approach, for example.

But the respective forces that ranged up against each other yesterday were so unevenly matched that the pride which Arsene Wenger will have felt in his young team's performance was fully justified.

More justified, though, than any sense of injustice which, knowing the one-eyed Frenchman's usual attitude to objectivity, he will probably be harbouring over Chelsea's equaliser. It certainly did appear that Ashley Cole, the disowned former son, fouled Aleksandr Hleb in the lead-up to Michael Essien's astonishing strike. But Chelsea rattled the woodwork so often that the Stamford Bridge groundsman will probably be touching up the paintwork on the goalposts this morning.

Having said that, for the second time in a couple of weeks, Chelsea pulled themselves around by dispensing with what is becoming a mystifying initial tactical set-up. Although Arsenal only went ahead in the 78th minute, eleven or so minutes after Chelsea brought on Arjen Robben and Shaun Wright-Phillips, that opener was much less in keeping with the run of play than had it been scored before Chelsea went to 4-3-3.

Even with only twelve minutes remaining, the likelihood of Chelsea's scoring at least one in response seemed quite high, and as it turned out, they could have had several.

The strange thing about the fact that Chelsea have had to change to the 4-3-3 formation to save matches is that it was exactly the system that had brought Jose Mourinho's side success in the first two seasons of his management. Clearly, the signing of Michael Ballack and Andrij Shevchenko - and the need for their deployment - has forced Mourinho into an unnatural reshuffle of his tactics.

Also, the good form of Didier Drogba this season has meant that the man whom many felt would make way for Shevchenko has been himself, as Mourinho called it, "untouchable".
But the introduction of the wingers Robben and Wright-Phillips brought a dynamism to Chelsea's attack that is generally non-existent as they seek to bludgeon teams with the heavyweight midfield four of Ballack, Lampard, Essien and Makalele.

Prior to the changes, Arsenal's heroic young defenders, with tremendous assistance from the heroic Gilberto Silva - a man who appears to be becoming more naturally suited to the captain's armband than Therry Henry is - were able to hold out the powerful champions. At times it was quite desperate stuff: Fabregas' clearance off the line from Essien, Gilberto Silva's lunging distraction as the Ghanaian shot on another occasion.

But the guerilla tactics kept Arsenal hanging in there, breaking with purpose and threat. The goal was typical of this approach, the Gunners moving up the pitch, committing numbers enough to stretch Chelsea and leave the space for Flamini.

On another day Chelsea would have overran them, but the character and courage the young Arsenal team showed made them worthy of a point.