Fowler runs Gunners ragged

It was while tucked away in a cramped, acoustically bankrupt room at Elland Road early last week that the amateur psychologist which lurks within every football manager finally got the better of Gérard Houllier.

Naive and ill-informed coaches traditionally make appeals for patience and understanding while those around them attempt to remove from their mouths the bitter taste of defeat-engendered bile. The smarter ones scatter the seeds of unpleasant theories during the good times, reminding those happy to draw premature conclusions that one win does not a season make.

Liverpool had defeated Leeds United with perplexing ease and, as Houllier considered how best to deliver his cautionary message, manna from heaven came before him in the shape of the question: "How long before you can expect your team to play that well on a consistent basis?"

"Maybe another two months," he replied. Job done. Without labouring the point, the Frenchman was simply stressing that several of those who will come to represent his first-choice side had not played that night.

That figure dropped by one on Saturday with the return of Michael Owen, who jogged his way through the final three minutes of a match which Arsenal had long since conceded. "He is back," said Houllier with the smile of one who had just regained a treasured piece of jewellery he possibly feared was lost forever.

Before the game Houllier admitted he was prepared to gamble on Owen's fitness some 4 months after the youngster's hamstring gave way. The inference was that the Golden Child might be needed to unpick the Arsenal defence for Liverpool to plunder a late victory or salvage a late draw. But Owen was simply not required as Liverpool's weakened team began to hint at cohesion and genuine menace en route to an emphatic and worthy success.

If Liverpool did surrender possession too easily they still performed manfully, particularly in midfield, where Jamie Redknapp and Steven Gerrard gamely chased down even the most remote of lost causes, and in attack where Robbie Fowler was outstanding.

In the absence of Emmanuel Petit, Patrick Vieira abdicated all responsibility and invited Fredrik Ljungberg, a willing but less competent performer, to apply for the job of midfield catalyst. With their wide men Ray Parlour and Marc Overmars more inclined to be drawn forward than inside, Arsenal were impoverished in the centre, leaving Dennis Bergkamp and Thierry Henry running around in ever- decreasing circles.

Had fortune favoured him Fowler would have had a hatful of goals, but no doubt he will settle for the one he did get: a glorious, looping drive which proved more than sufficient to set the tone.

Afterwards the normally sensible Arsène Wenger proffered a nonsensical and tired argument about heavy workloads. "The fixtures are an absolute joke; that was our third major game in seven days," he said.

Tired? Fatigued? In August?

What will have really hurt Wenger was that it wasn't even close. Patrik Berger's vicious, if fortuitously deflected, free-kick with 13 minutes remaining confirmed Liverpool's victory and in no way flattered them.

Actually Berger's strike was something of an irrelevance, for Arsenal were never going to score, a point which the substitute Davor Suker backed up in added time when his penalty kick was well saved by Sander Westerveld after Rigobert Song had been wrongly convicted of upending Ljungberg.

"I brought Davor on because he is a goalscorer, but even that didn't work," said Wenger, overlooking the fact that as Suker had been out in the midday sun for all of 25 minutes he was quite probably exhausted.