'CLOSE my eyes and slip away,' sang The Small Faces over the loudspeakers and the scattered Arsenal fans in the Emirates Stadium got ready to do exactly that.

Paris St Germain were dull and industrious at best against Arsenal and, even though Valencia weren't exactly backwards in charging forwards on Saturday, it hadn't convinced more than half of Sunday's ticket holders to turn up early enough for their clash.

Perhaps, as The Small Faces sang, it really was to be a lazy Sunday afternoon.

In the press box, journalists joked about the huge gulf in class between these teams.

Valencia, of course, dominated Inter Milan for long periods in their first fixture.

We had a sweepstake on the scoreline and I confidently plumped for a 4-0 victory for the Spanish.

No-one backed PSG for so much as a draw. Boy, did we all get that wrong.

Paris St Germain looked like a different team, but then as the Polish journalist next to me pointed out, with all the personnel changes they actually were a different team.

Their neat, close passing took Valencia, the supporters and the entire press box by complete surprise and 45 minutes of exceptional football gave them a well-deserved 2-0 lead at the break.

Valencia finally woke up for the second half and managed to carve out a few opportunities, but by now the stadium was swelling up for the Arsenal game.

As PSG effortlessly dinked home a third, the aisles filled with distracted replica shirt-clad Gunners, clasping hotdogs and donuts in tidy, red cardboard cartons.

Marco Materrazzi certainly couldn't be accused of having a lazy Sunday afternoon.

After 90 minutes against Valencia on Saturday, he had remained in Inter's starting line-up, much to the delight of the Arsenal fans who jeered him mercilessly from the kick-off.

There is bad blood between these two teams.

In 2003, Inter Milan destroyed Arsenal 3-0 at Highbury in the Champions League before Wenger's team promptly went to the San Siro and returned the favour 5-1.

As well as the continual baiting of poor Materazzi, the home fans jubilantly jeered every Italian move.

The chants of 'Arsenal! Arsenal!' in sharp contrast to the shrill cheer leading of yesterday, were now defiant and loaded with venom.

When Eboue characteristically hurled himself over Materazzi's leg, the stadium exploded.

It was clear to anyone with functioning eyeballs that it was a shameless dive, but the referee took the bait, waved a yellow card and awarded Arsenal a free-kick.

Seconds later, Eboue was at it again, rolling about on the ground clutching his skull as if someone had glued the earphones of his iPod to the side of his head and whacked the volume up.

Again, blind passion strangled objectivity and the ground erupted in fury.

DOMINANCE

For all their dominance, Arsenal simply could find a way through and the fans milled around the stadium during the break, bemoaning their teams' obsession with tentatively passing the ball around the edge of the penalty area and refusing to shoot on sight.

When David Suazo plonked a laser-guided header in off the post early in the second half, it went very quiet.

Only Arsenal, it seemed, could squander so much possession for so little reward. But the Gunners weren't finished yet.

Hleb burst forward and blasted a shot at the Inter goalkeeper before cannoning in the rebound to level the score.

Again and again, the red shirts clustered and failed in the final third.

Such profligacy could not be good for the hearts of these fans, though I suppose that the constant exercise of standing up and then sitting back down again in disgust evened it out somewhat.

Finally, with four minutes to go Robin van Persie put everyone out of their misery by caressing the ball with the tips of his studs across the penalty area and rifling home a thunderous finale to the weekend.

Many fans scampered for the exits early, eschewing the chance to see William Gallas lifting a very oddly sculpted trophy amidst a blaze of pyrotechnics.

Those that remain applauded a Sunday afternoon, not of laziness, but of hope.

Arsenal's players are young, perhaps too young to mount a title challenge this season, but they've got time on their side.

Whether Arsene Wenger will be around to shepherd them into maturity is a question for another day.

On Sunday, however, 59,000 people went home believing that perhaps this coming season won't be so bad after all.