Opinion

After the exciting victories by “small clubs in the north east of England” on Saturday, I decided to waste four hours on two clubs from the north of London strutting their stuff in televised games on Sunday.

First up were the Woolwich, who would definitely have sent me to the land of Nod if their match against Palace had kicked off at 7.30 rather than 2pm.

Teams from different generations are difficult to compare but, my goodness, the dross served up by Arteta is unwatchable compared with the thrilling style of Wenger’s best years.

The Sky commentary team would never dare suggest such a thing, they have to be on-message 100% of the time when selling the world’s greatest competition, but even they noted more than 30 minutes had been and gone before either team tested the opposing keeper.

Inevitably, the opener (and only goal) stemmed from a dead ball. Munoz stupidly fouled Saka, Rice swung in the free-kick from the right flank and Eze smashed home a spectacular volley when Palace failed to clear their lines. The curse of the ex strikes again.

In terms of entertainment, that was as good as it got....