Beautiful game not the only one in town

PREMIER LEAGUE:The long, hard league season has exposed Arsenal's limitations and Arsene Wenger needs to change tack, writes Andrew Fifield

ARSENE WENGER is possibly the only man in English football who would ever be considered to open a summit meeting between two world leaders, and certainly the only one who would emerge looking the most statesman-like. Wenger exudes authority from every exfoliated pore, so poor Gordon Brown and Nicolas Sarkosy, both hopelessly out of their depth, for very different reasons, never stood a chance last week.

It is not just the esteemed leaders of Britain and France who bow to Wenger's stature, of course. Of all the Premier League's big managerial beasts, he is the one most likely to inspire devotion among the agnostics. His strain of gentle paternalism compares favourably to the red-blooded Alex Ferguson, screaming fire and brimstone from his Manchester pulpit, or Avram Grant's unsmiling puritanism, where life is to be endured rather than enjoyed.

The gospel according to Wenger allows us to indulge in a few guilty pleasures - the unnecessary back-heeled flick, or the refusal to shoot from more than six yards - while stressing the possibility of soccer becoming something transcendent. In an age of rampant cynicism, that should be cherished.

Wenger's purist philosophy encourages us to ignore his foibles: the bitterness in defeat and the sniffiness at venturing north of Upper Street. Even when he was recently snapped emerging from Paris's notorious Crazy Horse night-spot - best described as an "exotic dancing club" - we are content to "do a Wenger" and claim we didn't really see it.

Perhaps most remarkable of all is how the proudly unforgiving English have pardoned Wenger for being both French and German - the offspring of Alsatian parents, including a father who fought for the Wehrmacht. Instead, he is applauded for extracting the best from both his fatherlands, mixing large dollops of Gallic romanticism with a sprinkling of Teutonic earnestness.

Suitably impressed by his cosmopolitan character and evident intelligence, Wenger is indulged to remarkable lengths. When he muses, as he did last week, on how sport and politics are mutually entwined, we stroke our chins and nod sagely. When he speculates on the impending demise of international football friendlies, we duly rush to the nearest stonemason to begin work on the headstone.

Wenger's omniscience is a given but an illustrious past should not make him immune to criticism. Arsenal might have arrested their slide at Bolton on Saturday, but the fact that a chaotic victory plucked from the grip of a bedraggled relegation candidate was hailed as a spectacular return to form simply emphasised how Arsenal's title pretensions have been exposed as hopelessly undercooked.

Trophies are not the only meaningful gauge of success, but even Wenger would admit that the most significant people in sport are the winners. In that sense, Wenger, trophyless since 2005 and nervously pinning his hopes for this season on the Champions League, is beginning to lose his relevance.

For a man christened "Arsene Knows", he has appeared devoid of answers. When pressed for explanations of how his team has suddenly imploded, Wenger has simply looked blank and even Saturday's unlikely triumph was only engineered after he realised his error in starting with the ponderous Nicklas Bendtner and Philippe Senderos.

It is still too late for the title and that, ultimately, is Wenger's responsibility. It was his stubborn refusal to spend in January which left Arsenal - always bedevilled by injuries - vulnerable to the kind of mishaps which have befallen Eduardo da Silva, Robin van Persie and Tomas Rosicky, as well as chronically short of experience.

Wenger's decision to trust in what he had was lauded at the time as brave but now it seems blinkered - arrogant, even. The same could be said of his decision to field a reserve side at Old Trafford for the FA Cup fifth round tie with Manchester United that ended in humiliation and triggered Arsenal's ugly collapse.

Wenger deserves time to prove himself again. He has earned our respect and does not belong to that select group of managers who have been granted an undeserved mysticism simply by virtue of their sharp suits or correct use of demonstrative pronouns (take note, Glenn "them things" Hoddle). But memories alone cannot sustain him. Arsenal need silverware to persuade A-listers such as Cesc Fabregas, Mathieu Flamini and Emmanuel Adebayor that their futures do not lie elsewhere and that will only happen if Wenger waters down his principles.

With that in mind, he must set himself a three-pronged target this summer: first, to invest heavily in his paper-thin squad, adding another striker, a right-sided midfielder and a new goalkeeper; second, to replace William Gallas with a player who understands captaincy and, third, to rediscover his own fiercely competitive drive and hunger for battle.

Otherwise, the man who restored a nation's faith in football's aesthetic splendour will simply be known as that ugliest of creatures: a loser.