Published: 12 March, 2015

ARSENAL by Richard Osley

THE only thing that was missing from the magicarama of Monday night was a recreation of Martin Keown's vulture wings dance. The famous one where he go-go-gadgeted his arms to an impossible length at Old Trafford and sprang through the air with a jetpack leap, a picture of cackling joy. Fast forward to Monday’s celebrations, and there Mart was, starch-shirted on the touchline with Phil Neville, a real life The Scream, and ‘Chappers’, a presenter who looks too middle-aged for his lads-down-the-pub college days nickname. 

The game was won, the United bullies swashed, everything had been glorious; and yet Keown felt no need to recreate, on these United supporting dweebs, the vulture wings jig with which he once wig-wammed Ruud van Nistelrooy’s Gruffalo jaws. It would have been the perfect end to a perfect evening.  For as many times as the BBC wanted to show Ryan Giggs’ hairy chest goal from 1999 – it was almost double figures – the Gunners have their own moments of glory to recall. 

OK, Keown’s crack-crazy explosion was a poor example to the kiddiewinks – newspaper law says we must record it as a role model behaving badly. But there was the time we just about won the league there with Overmars and then did so for real with Wiltord. And now this. 

As the Old Trafford crowd – red scarves when winning, green and yellow when losing – hooted derision for Welbeck's slippery ball control, he ended up dumping them out of a competition they seemed convinced that they were going to win. What could've been better than that? Let them play it again and again. That, and the Keown vulture.

SPURS by Catherine Etoe

DUNNO about you but I’d rather Bradford City and Blackburn Rovers reached the FA Cup final. Not just because both these lower league clubs heaped so much embarrassment on Arsenal a few seasons ago; mostly because they’re not Liverpool, Arsenal or Moan Utd. Not that United count any more (on so many levels); I didn’t bother watching but I hear they were recently knocked out of the cup by some team or other. 

Oh, all right, by Arsenal, the club that would have a bulging trophy cabinet if you won anything for reaching the last 16 of the Champions League and no further every year. 

I hear Arsenal won thanks to the local lad who was deemed surplus to requirements at Old Trafford by Beavis and Butthead lookey-likey Louis van Gaal in the summer. 

It’s not quite the same but, having once been told by my Spanish CSE teacher that I was a clown who would get nowhere in life (hey, look at me now Gringo), I have some empathy with Danny Welbeck. 

I imagine we all have. After all, who’d want to wind up at Arsenal? Even worse, who’d want to know that the bloke who replaced you at United is using your jockstrap drawer to keep his jewels? Worse still, that he was made to look average by Tottenham’s youth team the other night? Still, at least Welbeck felt the love at Old Trafford from both sets of fans. 

And with eight goals this term I’m sure he’ll soon surpass the 29 he got in 142 appearances for United. Of course, Harry Kane has 26 in 41 this season alone. I guess we’re just lucky our new manager (and Tim Sherwood) were prepared to give our local lad a chance.