PREMIER LEAGUE: Arsene Wenger's pursuit of the pure principles of the game may be hampering his lightweight side

CALL ME naive but before last week I had always assumed that Arsene Wenger swearing belonged in that select category of events that, if they happen at all, do so behind double-locked doors. But, no, there it was, writ large in black and white last Wednesday: Le Professeur dropping the F- and S-bombs while denouncing the notion that his Arsenal players might be distracted by that World Cup thingy next summer.

For sheer, jaw-dropping impact, this was pretty special, the equivalent of, say, relieving oneself in the silver gravy boat at a posh Islington dinner party. Who knows? Maybe Wenger did that as well later in the evening, just for the sheer bloody hell of it.

The fact that Wenger saying a couple of naughty words was considered worthy of a back-page splash was a reminder of the cachet he has acquired. Other managers have won more trophies and courted more popularity, but it’s debatable whether anyone has had such a profound impact on the culture of English football.

He’s even added words to our shared sporting lexicon, even if terms such as “playerish” and “footballistically” would be ridiculed if they stumbled off the tongue of any other coach. Wenger gets away with it because, well, he’s Arsene Wenger and someone to be revered as some kind of Gallic guardian angel, protecting us from all the bad things in the footballing world like two-footed tackles and Blackburn Rovers.

Arsenal fans know this only too well. It is one of the reasons they were not shrieking for his head after yesterday’s marmalising by Chelsea. They know that the only way Wenger is leaving the Emirates is when he is found slumped over his polished mahogany desk, having expired while watching some grainy footage of the Botswanan third division.

In some ways, this is touching. Liverpool fans are quite attached to Rafael Benitez, in that sentimental way of theirs, but they would still glady dispatch him back to Spain in return for a coach guaranteed to win the Premier League, while Chelsea’s recent revival has relied more on a core of astonishingly driven senior players than any manager, much as Jose Mourinho would like us to believe otherwise.

Even Manchester United should not consider themselves utterly dependent on the skills of Alex Ferguson. The Scot is a phenomenon, of course, but his greatest achievement has been in reintroducing Old Trafford to its most cherished tradition of free-flowing, winning football. Provided the club’s board identify a suitably strong-minded replacement, there is no reason why his success cannot be sustained.

Wenger is different. Arsenal were not only mediocre when he arrived in 1996, they were unpopular – deeply so, in fact. George Graham’s pugilistic brand of football brought trophies, for a while at least, but there was no attendant affection from the sporting public, while Bruce Rioch is best forgotten entirely.

Wenger, having been granted absolute power by an unusually trusting board, set about rebuilding Arsenal’s entire culture, overhauling everything from where they recruit young players to specifying the length of the grass at their London Colney training complex.

But there is a price to be paid for investing such unquestioned power in one manager. Wenger’s squad, and in particular the key trio of Cesc Fabregas, Robin van Persie and Gael Clichy, are so indoctrinated in his methodology they should be considered more as disciples than mere employees. They follow him unquestioningly. While Ferguson had feisty lieutenants such as Keane to challenge him, Wenger has a dressingroom utterly devoid of constructive dissent. A dangerous situation.

Wenger’s bullet-proof status has also allowed him to become dangerously blinkered. Having purist principles is all well and good but it has now reached the point where Wenger is unable to accept, or possibly even understand, that it is not heresy to blend his favoured one-touch combinations with some rugged durability.

When he reviews the footage from yesterday’s game, he will blanche at seeing Chelsea outmuscle and outplay his team, who spent most of the afternoon passing themselves into cul-de-sacs and slinging forlorn crosses towards their Lilliputian strikers. By contrast, the visitors played with power and panache.

Wenger will not relent in his principles. Given he has no fear of the sack or losing his place in English football’s pantheon, he has no incentive to. But he owes it to both himself and Arsenal supporters, who are beginning to tire of watching a pretty team made out of papier mache, to overhaul his philosophy. And it will take more than a few swear words to do that.