Sunderland vs. Arsenal: Why Saturday Is the Most Important Match of the Season

"Why do we fall, Master Bruce?" the butler Alfred inquires of Bruce Wayne twice during Batman Begins.

Without waiting for Bruce to answer—maybe the point of the lesson to come was that Bruce was supposed to listen rather than speak—Alfred finishes his rhetorical query with a flourishing lesson.

"So that we can learn to pick ourselves up."

Sound like that could apply to a certain football team at the moment?

Following Wednesday's 4-0 thumping at the San Siro, you might half-expect Arsenal's players to respond to that question as Master Bruce once did.

"Still haven't given up on me?"

To which Alfred would of course reply:

"Never."

That line, by itself, elevated Batman Begins into the Valhalla reserved for my favorite movies of all time. Most have an endearing moment similar to the one just mentioned.

And I think the lesson learned by Bruce by the end of that story can be applied quite seamlessly to the current predicament Arsenal find themselves in at the moment.

Bitter, broken and perhaps bemused—I don't think anyone predicted a loss that consuming (I actually thought Arsenal might snatch a narrow victory in a fit of boldness)—the time has come for the Gunners to pick themselves up from the fallout of a match Arsene Wenger described as the side's "worst night in Europe" during his 16 years coaching in North London.

Thus, Saturday's match against Sunderland in the fifth round of the FA Cup presents itself as a monumental tie for a number of reasons.

With the Champions League dream nearly squelched, and sitting 17 points out of first place in the Premier League standings (they bowed out of the Carling Cup in November to Manchester City), the FA Cup has become Arsenal's most realistic option for winning silverware this season.

It may not have the grandeur of an EPL triumph or Champions League winners' medal, but it is a trophy, nonetheless. And given Arsenal's nearly seven-year run of futility, beggars can't really be choosers.

A win tomorrow would propel the Gunners into the quarterfinal stage of the world's oldest domestic club competition. That, in and of itself, is a feat, but the passage merely brushes the surface of just how significant this match is for an Arsenal side that is currently lying broken, as Wayne once did in an elevator shaft with Alfred.

Just as Batman Begins built from that sequence toward its enthralling climax, this is the turning point of Arsenal's season.

The legend, Thierry Henry, has departed following his six-week loan deal. The dream of Champions League glory has dwindled to a weak flicker. Supporters are gathering in denouncing droves once again, calling for Wenger's ouster.

The dark, as it so often has this season, is threatening to consume the Arsenal camp.

And, while it's corny to channel the words of Harvey Dent in this situation—after all, sometimes the proverbial "dawn" doesn't come after our blackest nights—there is still something to be said about fighting one's way out from beneath the rubble.

It's how one becomes a man.

For an Arsenal side who had their "experience" checked and mated against Milan, it's time to step up and show the resilience adulthood demands. They've hinted for years now at becoming the experienced side we crave.

Maybe now's the time.

The truest joys in this world come after we have found our way out of the dark. Maybe 50 Cent said it best: "Joy wouldn't feel so good if it weren't for pain."

Arsenal have a chance to really make something of their season. It is in danger of careening dangerously off course, but a win tomorrow would serve as a sure hand on the steering wheel, willing the campaign back onto a right path.

Bruce Wayne became the legend he always showed the potential to be once he took responsibility for his mistakes and used them to grow. Hence, the falling metaphor.

Arsenal have the chance to learn from the harrowing nature of Wednesday's embarrassment. If they do, they can restore faith and go forward with a thrilling blend of confidence.

But, first, they must learn to pick themselves up.

I think they can. I hope they can.

And by the time 90 minutes have gone tomorrow, we'll know if they did.