124 Comments

Remember Who You Are

Posted by ArsenalAndrew on April 3, 2016 in All Posts

rockyUpon waking on Saturday morning, and after a tough week at work, I did what all sensible, mature 50-something male adults do at that time and reached for my computer and started to feverishly tap tap tap away at the controls (or ‘keyboard’) to bring up the app for my favourite fantasy.

I’ve been playing football Fantasy Premier League for about ten years and started doing so in a half-arsed bid to ‘broaden my knowledge’ of the players of other teams.  I was invited into a small league of gentlemen, some of whom I actually knew, most I didn’t.  Over the years my teams have ‘graced’ around 40 online leagues, most of them featuring teams managed remotely by people I’ve never previously heard of, let alone met.  As someone who rarely gambles, fantasy football is as good an alternative way to follow the Premier League as I can imagine and has provided an added dimension to my enjoyment of the game which invariably lasts from the first lunchtime kick-off on a Saturday through to the last fixture of the Game Week (or ‘weekend’ as it used to be called).

I mention all this by way of giving any stray reader the heads up on the parlous state of my own football knowledge.  In all this time, I have only ever won two leagues.  Just twice have I ended the season top of the league – one was a group of five participants, another a small group of 20.  The very first thing you learn about fantasy football is how little you have learnt about football despite supposedly following the game for almost five decades.

I’m currently at a season-high 13th place in The Tollington league of 50, a full 120 points behind the leader, a certain James Lowe.  The Tollington is the rammed pre-match Islington pub of choice for around 6,000 of us most matches, and located a short walk to the ground.  Despite this, I’ve never actually met James, who, over the course of the season so far, has established an all but unassailable lead over my team equivalent to around 5% of the points so far.  For a game of small margins, it’s a huge lead.

Unfortunately I can not even claim James has been lucky because, as with the real thing, we all know everything magically, and a tad randomly, evens out perfectly over the course of the season.  James also, clearly, knows more about football than me.

There is a second reason I mention this by way of the post-Watford write-up.

As part of my frenetic online fumbling around first thing Saturday, I moved young Hector Bellerin into my fantasy football side.  Given the ropey nature of our post-Xmas form, this was something of a gamble but one shared by 25% of other players of the fantasy game.

With even greater prescience, I added the even younger and less experienced Alex Iwobi – someone selected by no more than 0.3% of the entire Fantasy PL rank and file. Bellerin’s form this season has led to him being one point behind the highest ranked defender on FPL.  It’s a remarkable achievement for the player who is someone I’ve followed closely since his move to the club in the same swap deal for Cesc Fabregas, when Barcelona paid the club around £30+ million in cash. Plus Hector.

Another dumb deal by our hopelessly out of touch manager there.

And of course, both Hector and Alex played splendidly against Watford, despite my frankly inspired selection threatening to put the hoodoo on both of them.

Bellerin was the last Arsenal player I was lucky enough to meet before I stopped working for the club and it was the morning after his phenomenal assist for Ozil in the dying seconds of the Bayern Munich clash last October, that he briefly entered my world. It was known he was in the stadium for filming duties but I had no idea he was heading in my direction until he popped out of the lift in the Directors’ Entrance of the Emirates. At 5’ 10” he is taller than I imagined him to be although to be fair, the closest I’d previously got to the guy was watching him play for the Under 21s on numerous occasions when he was invariably a blur on the landscape, such is his blazing pace when charging down the wing.  Faster than Walcott, they say. Faster, even, than Usain Bolt, over 40 metres. But likely twice as modest, as I shook his hand and truthfully told him his assist to Ozil the previous evening, less than 14 hours earlier, had led to my favourite goal of the season so far.

To which his response was “Really?!”

Yes, of course it was Hector, it was a stunning effort.

So I could be forgiven for selecting Bellerin on Saturday morning for my Fantasy side but Iwobi was a far greater gamble.  That he would even play was reason enough for sensible people to avoid picking him but play he did, score he did, and establish himself as one of the break-out talents of the season, that he also surely did.

It seems to have become a ‘thing’ this season that unless a team scores first, winning a game is said to have become something of a mountain to climb.  Teams – at least those playing Arsenal – seem to go one up then shut up shop. We can batter them for the rest of the game but invariably the opposition goalie will have his game of his season (or career) and overcoming an early deficit, especially with the Emirates crowd reduced to their now traditional near-silence, seems to be the hardest thing in the world.  So Iwobi’s remarkable cross to pick out a marked Sanchez in the fourth minute was just what was needed to set the tone of a match that went on to become something of a master-class of midfield domination, good defending and effective, exciting cutting edge attack.

That this was Sanchez’s first Emirates goal since his October brace against Man U is an unwelcome stat likely to crop up in any subsequent analysis of the season but yesterday, Alex to Alexis in the 4th minute was enough to set the place alight.

The seventh minute saw a moving tribute to our former number 7, David Rocastle and the presence of his family in the Arsenal Directors’ Box was poignant.  In some ways, the tribute represents the Emirates at its best. It has been said that when Rocky first played for Arsenal he couldn’t see the goal from the half-way line.  Contact lenses transformed his game and he went on to become one of Arsenal’s most favoured and fondly remembered sons.  To this day on his frequent stadium tours, Charlie George speaks gently of the guy whose shirt is now stored in the time capsule buried beneath the Emirates.

On 38, Alexis to Alex pretty much sealed Watford’s fate on a day they hardly threatened to make a game of it. So two full league games, two goals for Iwobi. His first at the Emirates, an outstanding performance in Barcelona and a debut for Nigeria earlier in the week.  There is so much to be admired in the 19 year old’s game and his development over the 13 years spent at the club. My only regret is he has not qualified to play for England.  Perhaps he preferred to play for Nigeria but one can’t help but wonder if the FA have missed a big, big trick here.

The manner of Bellerin’s deflected goal in the 48th will be one for Heurelho Gomes, the Watford goalie to forget. Much like his comment earlier this month that “Small Arsenal won’t win the PL title”.  Going on to concede four goals against such a small side must surely represent the low point of his season.  Maybe his mind was on the FA Cup semi-final the Watford fans delightedly reminded the home fans of.

Our own fans gently pointed out we’d actually won the thing, once or twice.

The welcome appearance of Joel Campbell and his even more welcome assist to the much Twitter-maligned Walcott at the death, was pretty much the perfect end to a perfect afternoon for the Gunners.

For me, Joel is up there with Iwobi, Bellerin, Monreal, Coquelin and Elneny as THE break out players of the last 18 months or so.  All players few had previously heard of, all likely mainstays of the first team for the foreseeable future, all players sourced, nurtured and selected by a manager routinely disrespected by sections of the club’s own supporters but rightly still revered all around the football world.

And what of the context of the win itself?  Spurs went on to drop two points on Saturday evening but much will depend on Southampton’s visit to Leicester later today before the true measure of yesterday’s win can be made. To say we can only win with the pressure off is errant nonsense as we are clearly still in with a shout for first place.

That it is only a shout and not a fully-fledged expectation is the only regret of another injury-ravaged season.  That the season initially promised so much – especially on the back of an outstanding 2015 – makes Wenger some sort of victim of his own success but the remarkable consistency of his Arsenal reign in some ways makes it harder for many to again settle for 4th, 3rd or 2nd place in the league.

The nature of the demolition of a previously vibrant Watford side, made to look poor by a resurgent Arsenal squad teeming with talent, suggests we will do better next season, especially given the emergence of those new names mentioned previously.

This season’s unlucky goals ruled out for non-existent off sides, the penalties resolutely not given in our favour, the scenes of carnage in the club’s medical facilities – statistically, all this must, eventually, surely turn in our favour.

At some point, Arsenal will simply run away with the league.

This season, however, I’d settle for a championship decided on goal difference.

 

You can remind me who you are on Twitter @arsenalandrew.

Permalink
111 Comments

Arsenal Versus Watford: In Like a Lion, Out Like A Lamb

Posted by steww on April 2, 2016 in All Posts

26117183041_a0199ce64d_z

So how did you spend the football free Easter break? Tiptoeing Wordsworth like through the sudden yellow rush of spring blooms? Blowing the cobwebs off the lawnmower and wondering if that Argos garden furniture was going to last another season? Perhaps you read a book or two, planned a holiday or just filled the empty days with endless pointless arguments on Twitter. If so I hope you won, on points. You’ll never actually win of course because nobody ever changes their mind based on the opinions of someone they despise, but, if it helped pass the time then I suppose that’s all you can hope for.

I’ve done nothing of worth or merit I’m happy to say. Frivolously tearing the days of the calendar into tiny pieces and scattering their confetti to the wind as if I will live forever. Yesterday I found myself in Paulton with an hour to waste. I wonder what the condemned man, his final sixty minutes on earth laid out before him and racing away too quickly to catch, would think of my casual frittering of our only precious resource. I’ll tell you one thing I bet he wouldn’t want to spend it in Paulton.

I had dropped my son off at the local hospital and decided to see what the adjacent village had to offer. Hardly the stuff of Bill Bryson never mind Alfred Wainwright but I dutifully passed through the graveyard of an uninspiring parish church, crossed the park and marvelled at the tiny fire station unexpectedly squashed between the village hall and the swings and roundabouts of a near deserted playground.

I then chanced upon a public house. It sits opposite an imposing Methodist chapel which advertises three different forms of exotic marshal arts and a baby and toddlers group. The pub is called The Lamb and at once a wash of Arsenal fuelled memories burst across my near somnolent synapses and brought me, miraculously, back to the land of the living. It was the first week in May, 2002. John Rench and I were pondering where to watch the big game. Arsenal were due to travel to Manchester where a win would seal not only the title but another double as the FA cup had, unusually, already been won before the end of the  league programme.

In the end we decided to support an old pal.  Tony Teal had recently taken over the Lamb in Paulton and had installed a projector and a big screen and managed to get the Sky to work. Despite it being a school night we got ourselves dropped off in that remote, Godforsaken backwater of North East Somerset and watched Arsène clinch another famous victory, breaking more records along the way. It was a strange night. Not many people there, John and I the only Arsenal fans and the title celebrated with a shrug and a little drunken jig on a sticky carpet.

You see, back then winning the league, while not commonplace, wasn’t an entirely unexpected outcome. As I contemplated The Lamb yesterday morning, with its two obligatory old guys waiting for the doors to open, I couldn’t help but wonder how things have changed. At the turn of the century we thought nothing of going unbeaten away from home, winning our last thirteen fixtures and beating Man United in their own back yard, despite the absence of such luminescent talents as Thierry Henry, Dennis Bergkamp and Tony Adams – all missing on the night.

Nowadays we nervously bite our finger nails wondering if a near full strength team can overcome Watford, at home, and whether such a feat will be remotely enough to keep us in touch with Spurs and Leicester at the top of the table. In a way I can see how so many of our supporters, both the lowly humdrum types such as you and I and the immense über–bloggers on their golden thrones, paint this season as a disappointment. Despite it not nearly being over yet and despite us still being in with a shot at the title, many have already written it off. I realised as I wandered from The Lamb, passed the empty café and forlorn charity shop to the boarded up bakery opposite the site of the old boot factory, that to many, Arsenal, like Paulton, has seen better days.

The very success on which Arsène’s magisterial reputation has been built casts a shadow over his present day achievements. Achievements like back to back FA cup wins are  instantly forgotten with the first home defeat of the new season. Memories count for nothing. With attention spans as short as that of a hyperactive four year old many modern fans see nothing but circling vultures in dark skies and dream of a magical new world where money flows from a bottomless transfer budget and a new manager leads a shining new team to endless success and prosperity.

Even though I’m sober these days and do not set foot in places like The Lamb I find myself content to sit among that delusional, carefree set of fans who are actually delighted to consider the possibility of another title this spring. As remote and unlikely as that possibility might seem right now, I’m happy to contemplate it and savour the spice it adds to every remaining fixture. While others take their joy discussing the break up of our team, who we must sell, when the manager must go – and that is their prerogative, I do not deride them for it – I prefer to revel in the run in, to delight in this welcome distraction from the woes and the humdrum of my real life.

In his latest column for the Guardian, Clive James, still with us despite being told by the doctors quite some time ago to get his affairs in order, writes “…for someone in my condition, even a good result is a reminder that you have to go on throwing a double six to stay in the game”. As I read his words I thought how well he summed up our position right now. Almost at once I felt ashamed for conflating a man’s tenuous grip on his very existence with the trivial diversion of following a football team. I read on and James spoke of his delight in the simple pleasures of unexpectedly being alive to see spring flowers and the birds and squirrels in his garden.

I realised that taking delight in watching our favourite football team is perhaps not such a frivolous pastime. If passing time is in fact all we have to do during our brief moment here on earth then passing it in eager anticipation, pleasure and optimism is perhaps as good a way as any. If Arsène astounds everyone and pulls yet another success from his magic hat won’t the vicarious delight we take from his triumph be all the sweeter for having been on his side throughout? Perhaps. Either way I’m happy and grateful for all the memories and eager to see what more he will bring me however long he decides to stay. The future is neither bright nor dark, it just is. Enjoy the ride or don’t. It’s always been a choice, nothing more.

Tags: , , , , , , Permalink
150 Comments

Arsenal: The Usmanov Takeover

Posted by R. Green on March 26, 2016 in All Posts

Almost every day on twitter and on blogs there are voices ranging from the humble and benign to the good and great criticizing the ownership of Stan Kroenke, not only for his refusal to spend the entire £200 million cash reserves on buying players in the fashion of United and City, but for failing to bring on board a manager who would be so inclined. One leading Arsenal blogger lamented:

“Where is the knowledge of, and passion for, Arsenal Football Club? Who is there that knows the modern game, the way it’s developing, the talent that exists throughout the world that might make this club better and more competitive? Not just on the pitch, but in every aspect. Sir Chips is simply a figurehead. The gruesome twosome of Stan and Josh Kroenke? Yeah, right.”

Make no mistake, Stan and Josh are just a convenient foil for this fairly typical type of ridicule by the blogger, but this entire screed had Arsene Wenger as the prime target.  It was already argued in the piece that AW’s dominance of the club football-wise is the greatest obstacle to Arsenal adapting to the modern game, i.e. pursuing the not so new idea that football clubs should spend beyond their organically generated resources to achieve success.  

To lay bare the poverty of the wisdom of the sage of Dublin, I decided to do some scenario planning and imagine what the club would be like if there had been an alternate takeover. Given the widespread nature of “cognitive fluency” (hat tip to d_c for spotting this piece on the BBC’s website Why are people so incredibly gullible), I doubt any of this will cause the majority of readers of this blog to stop believing the myths they are being fed daily. But at least they may be willing to consider for one moment, if the boot was on the other foot, would Usmanov be really different from Kroenke?

Background

fiszman_1872037c

So Danny Fiszman is on his deathbed, agonizingly aware that his days on earth are numbered, but fully cognizant that he must decide on the disposition of his shareholdings in Arsenal Football Club to not only prevent a fratricidal war between existing and potential owners but even more importantly to guarantee the strategic direction of the club which he had helped to define at great cost, not the least being at the expense of former friends and allies.

A life-long Arsenal fan, Fiszman bought his first tranche of shares in the club from its then vice-chairman David Dein in 1991, to acquire a seat on the board. By 1999 he owned as much as 33 per cent of the club. In his first years he took a back seat and tended to be seen only in the directors’ box at games.

But in the late 1990s he emerged to head up Arsenal’s search for a new stadium to replace Highbury, the club’s home for 86 years. Though it was Dein who brought Fiszman on to the board, the two men clashed repeatedly over the stadium project. Dein favoured a move to King’s Cross or to the restored Wembley. But in 1999 Fiszman identified a suitable plot on an Islington council rubbish dump at Ashburton Grove, about half a mile from Highbury, and it was his view that prevailed. The new stadium opened in 2006.

Fiszman subsequently became involved in the battle for control of the club between the Uzbek metal billionaire, Alisher Usmanov, and the American sports investor, Stan Kroenke. In April 2007 Fiszman was instrumental in ousting Dein from the board after differences arose over funding for the new stadium. Dein argued that external investment would be needed to control debt and remain competitive, and proposed to bring in Stan Kroenke. When he encouraged the American to buy ITV’s 9.9 per cent stake in Arsenal for £65 million, Dein was summarily drummed out as a director. By the way, the sacking of Dein by the Board is an inconvenient truth for the perpetuators of the Dein-myth, i.e. the man who would do any and everything for the best of the club. In fact the Telegraph reports it was Fiszman, who was the board member who took away Dein’s mobile phone and marched him off the premises.

Dein David

When he was cast aside, Dein decided he was free to sell to the highest bidder and in August he sold his remaining 14.5 per cent stake for £75 million to Red & White Holdings, an investment vehicle of Usmanov and his business partner Farhad Moshiri.

The Takeover

So let us stop the clock of history. Let us assume that with this move Dein gained the upper hand. Fiszman on his deathbed has long known that the game is up. His leadership in getting a one-year lockdown of directors selling their shares, his engineering of the removal from the board of Lady Bracewell-Smith, Keith Edelman and Richard Carr, was valiant but ultimately an act of futility.  So in March 2009 he would have sold 5,000 ordinary shares at a total cost of £42.5 million to an “anonymous buyer”, later revealed as Usmanov, in a deal which increased the Uzbek’s stake in Arsenal to 20.5 per cent. Despite subsequent assurances that he had no intention of selling any more shares in the club, three days before his death, on 10 April 2011, Fiszman would have sold his remaining shares to the business magnate, helping Usmanov to take control of the club with a 62.89 per cent holding.

Usmanov fencing

As the sage of Dublin and others now advocate, wouldn’t such a turn of events have led to Arsenal falling into the hands of modern football men, those with the ambition “to speculate to accumulate.” Surely a man of such enormous wealth, reputedly in excess of his countryman and fellow Premier League owner, Roman Abramovich (Net Worth:  £11 billion vs £5 billion).

I would suggest we can only judge the Uzbek on the public statements he has made about his policies for the club. On 5 July 2012 Usmanov and his investment vehicle, Red & White Holding’s PLC., issued the following as their vision for the Club?

“ A debt free Club, with a big enough war chest to buy top talent players who can hit the ground running and who can complement the Club’s long tradition of developing young players and homegrown talent.”

Is this any different from Stan Kroenke’s current policies? War chest? £200 million?

In fact R & W concluded their 2012 letter by stating:

“…in order to formalize our long-term involvement with the Club and put an end to any speculation over our position, we, as the co-owners of Red&White, will proudly retain our holding in the Club as a long-term investment for ourselves and our family members to benefit for generations to come.”

So Usmanov is just another long term investor like Stan Kroenke. Hmmm.

Is it any surprise, after seeing the steady regular growth of the value of his investment, only this week Usmanov was reported by leading Russian publication, Rossiya24 as saying:

“Arsenal’s results are stable,

 “They are always among the leaders of the English Premier League. This is a good and large sports business project, and I am pleased with it.

“The only thing is that today such situation occurred, like in any sport, there are ups and downs. The club must retain its major symbol and main asset – manager Arsene Wenger.

“I believe that Arsene Wenger is a great coach, and Arsenal have to give him the opportunity to plan the succession process and leave his legacy when he deems it necessary.

“It is very important for the football club to maintain the principles that were established by those people who created its victories. Arsenal need Arsene Wenger.”

My heavens. Not even Kroenke has given Arsene such an overwhelming endorsement.

Conclusion

So despite the naive, infantile caterwauling by bloggers and podcasters, Usmanov, who is currently the only real alternative to Kroenke as owner of our club, far from throwing Arsene under the bus, not only wants him to stay but is urging that he be able to choose his own successor. Maybe those of us with nothing at stake, except our season tickets and bragging rights (including traffic to our blog-sites), should take stock and simmer down.

Tags: , , , , , Permalink
108 Comments

Arsenal – Where is my Rattle ?

Posted by anicoll5 on March 20, 2016 in All Posts

Speedo mick

Annyeong hashimnikka my fellow Positivistas,

A polished performance against Everton yesterday and an entirely deserved win set the weekend rolling forward in a very pleasant fashion. We shall see how it ends by abut 6 p.m. tonight with the final whistle at the Lane and Trafford Park.

Of the game itself I admit even at 2-0 up I was never quite comfortable. Given that we were dominant, and defended well I can only put my edginess down to recent trauma and disappointment. To play as well as we did in Barcelona, to work so hard and yet still to be defeated would surely sap the (mental) strength of Achilles?

Not at all. After 63 hours off we looked the fresher, fitter side. A week after hammering the hated Chelsea it was Everton who struggled to match our energy and initiative.

Loud clapping for Danny and Alex Iwobi whose composed finishing was crucial in deciding the contest. The younger player particularly took his chance with great maturity, pace, balance, accuracy of shot = the holy trinity of finishing. What a week that young man has had!

I think the best moment in the game however was in the 44th minute, edge of the EFC box, Iwobi backheels to Danny, who immediately backheels to Iwobi. The Everton defenders’ heads were spinning, outrageous cheek and sublime skill.

Other plaudits for Ospina who, despite getting a painful bang, soldiered on. It would have been easy, indeed understandable for him to withdraw. I was yelping at the TV screen for a change as our Colombian hobbled about. He stayed in there and did his job. Brave boy. Elneny and Le Coq worked perfectly to see off the Everton midfield, Kosc and Gabriel sniffed out any spark Lukaku or Barkley might have lit. Bellerin and Nacho very sound going forward and disciplined as the home side got a toe-hold late on in the game. Sanchez good and unlucky with his penalty which really would have killed the game. Ozil always a yard ahead and a second faster than the pack of blue dogs chasing him. If I have left anyone out please feel free to add your comments, they all deserve it.

As for our opponents the opening sentence of the match report on the Toffees’ fan website Nil Satis Nisi Optimum ( Only the Best is good Enough) sums up their afternoon “Everton have fallen to their eighth home league defeat of the season after a first half masterclass from Arsenal condemned them to a 2-0 loss”

In line with my opening reference to being a little unsettled the game was just seconds old when the little urchin Coleman managed to clip our woodwork! The early high point however was about as exciting as it got. For the next 94 minutes Everton were, I thought, pretty bloody dire. That they apparently have the second worst home defence of any club in any top flight league in Europe surprises me not at all. Roberto Martinez can thank Mr Clattenburg that they are still only second in that league of Euro defensive infamy. The booing at the end of the game by what sounded like a lot of home supporters is ominous for the smooth Spaniard, especially with a new owner recently aboard and no doubt keen to make a splash. If I owned shares in Martinez I would sell.

We now all have a well earned break over the next few days. Use the down time wisely and enjoy your Sunday.

* for those who do not know the picture is of Speedo Mick, Evertonian and charity fund raiser – a man who laughs at adversity, with very tight trunks on and in all weathers.

Permalink
76 Comments

Arsenal Versus Everton: Blindness, Intoxication and an Eternal Song

Posted by steww on March 19, 2016 in All Posts

La-Miseria_Rojas_PD

As you know I enjoy subverting the concept of the match review, ignoring the accepted wisdom of the ages and not padding out my piece with projections of the line up, the score and the performance. I prefer to take some aspect of my day to day journey through this vale of tears and explore how it relates to the beautiful game in general and to Arsenal in particular. This is partly to avoid simply echoing all the other match day writers who already do a far better job than I could ever hope to keeping us abreast of the manager’s press conference, the injury list and just what it is that is so wrong with our club. I also have the words of Martin Mull running through my mind – “writing about music is like dancing about architecture”.

Now before you scroll spluttering for the comment box to point out that this is a football blog and not the New Musical Express, allow me a moment to elucidate. I find the quotation is appropriate here because the match preview is in essence writing about the future. Discussing events which have yet to occur is an equally futile exercise as I’m sure Laurie Anderson, Steve Martin, Frank Zappa, Elvis Costello, Thelonius Monk, Clara Schumann, Miles Davis, George Carlin and all the others who have been credited with Mull’s words would happily attest.

Some of you seem not to mind my rambling, off key approach to the match day which is hugely gratifying, and quite frankly those who don’t give a fig for my extended metaphors and tenuous allegorical fluff can still join the discussion below which is surely the true function of any supporters blog. I don’t believe it matters much what is said up here in main article the true value to this and any other Arsenal forum is the sharing of ideas and opinions. That is certainly where I learn most about the game and about my fellow travellers on this annual journey.

Which is a bloody good job because, as the more perspicacious among you may have twigged, I don’t have a lot to say this morning. My dearly beleaguered wife has fallen victim to some dreadful species of lurgy and I have been playing Florence Nightingale all week. Consequently I have barely thought of football nor anything else beyond emptying the bucket and dampening the handkerchief in order to cool her fevered brow. Yesterday evening, as I was patting the back and holding the hair out of the way, issuing the soothing words and generally doing all the things one does while silently offering up a prayer not to catch it myself, I turned over a few thoughts on today’s blog and came up empty, as indeed did my wife.

Which is a shame really because we are now in the narrows of the channel, signifying journey’s end. This, as the poet famously wrote, is it. Things are in the process of being decided. Stuff is coming to a head. Cup competitions are at the quarter and semi final stage, the race for the league is on the last bend before the home straight. Every Arsenal fixture is like a cup final but even if we win them all we have no guarantee of ultimate success. What a time to run out of things to say!

It’s a real shame because today’s match could be a humdinger. Everton are on a high right now after shoving the most hated team in the country through the door marked ‘Exit’ in their recent FA Cup tie. In Romelu Lukaku they have a genuine talent and, for me, an honest player and we have all admired their manager’s approach to the beautiful game and his refusal to bow to the lowest denominator kick ’em and rush ’em style beloved of the knuckle dragging set. John Stones looks an elegant and promising young defender and with that thug now sold to Norwich they are a much more likeable bunch.

We on the other hand will be buoyed by a spirited performance in Catalonia although no doubt disappointed not to have got more than one goal for all our efforts. The main worry for Arsenal is the heavy work load under which our players have laboured so valiantly of late. That must be weighed against the focus that our elimination from two of the three remaining competitions will surely bring to our game. It is, in the crude vernacular of my peers, shit or bust time. There is only one prize, no distractions, nothing else to aim at and so they will surely put any weariness behind them and go for broke this lunchtime.

One thing I am determined not to say today, one expression I have already deleted three times is ‘bounce back’. Not because it isn’t apposite given our unhappy results of late. It’s just that I’m sick of saying it this season. We have never put a decent run together, not for long enough anyway. We seemed to get pegged back each time we approach anything like a little consistency, either through untimely injuries, profligacy in front of goal, lapses at the back or just obdurate opposition from either visiting teams or referees. We haven’t ever really gotten out of third gear have we? And yet somehow we are just about in touch with the Marvel superheroes of Filbert Way and our noisy neighbours. Just about.

Well, there isn’t any time left now. We need to find a way to get the cogs to mesh and we need to start today. We also need Mr Pochettino and his pretenders to catch a dose of whatever is ailing she who must be obeyed and Ranieri’s transformed supermen to forget to take their glowing green pills for a few games. Even then even the most positive among us know we face a short but steep and difficult climb. I haven’t given up yet and I’m certain the manager and players haven’t either. Of course I never give up until it is mathematically impossible to win and then I simply enjoy the final few matches of the season and start to look forward to the next.

Anyway, the bell marked ‘Master Bedroom’ is tinkling again so I probably need to get back upstairs and change the sheets again and see if I can’t force a few dry crumbs through her parched, cracked lips. Before I go let me just apologise once more for having nothing to say today, hopefully the muse will return in time for Watford’s visit in a fortnight’s time. In the meantime let’s gird our loins once again and see if that elusive consistency can arrive just in the nick of time. Ultimate success may appear a distant and unlikely prospect right now but we can all take comfort from the words of the late lamented Terry Pratchett who taught us that “million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten”. It ain’t over till it’s over boys and girls, and, as I keep telling my patient, where there’s life there’s hope.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , Permalink
30 Comments

Fred (The Shed)

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on March 18, 2016 in All Posts
Heads or Tails? Fred Paxford, Gunner aged 82.
Hello again! Im not up at the shed today but back at home, Ive just been cleaning out the old pantry. I’m just having a cuppa and a cheese sandwich here at the kitchen table. I was having a moment then started thinking about going in the garden and planning what I will grow this year,a few runners and maybe the old Dorothy Perkins perhaps. I came second in a competition a few years ago for my marrows so I might do a few of them. There’s a nice young family at number 45, and I tend to give them a few veggies as its too much, what with being on me own and all.
My nephew came around yesterday and read me your comments.How nice they were! I did have a rattle as little lad,we all did that went to Highbury in them post war years.Many times I would hear a voice shout out to my Dad “here mate send your son down here” and I would get lifted up and passed overhead from the back where we were standing and pushed to the front so I could see the game clearly. There wasn’t anything suspicious about them blokes, just kind gentlemanly fellows who allowed me to see all the game. I can see them all now, standing there before me, you think its going to stay like that forever, but times soon change.Shocking really.
I went with my old Dad as much as I could.You would have liked him.He fought in the Spanish Civil war but soon transferred as an ambulance driver once he was over there.I dont think he was much a of a fighting man.Went over on next to nothing and came back a different man. Mum went potty, her Dad, my Grandfather had a penny or two, so while Dad was away we were okay.But I dont think my Grandfather approved or ever forgave him. Cut the old man out of his will!
Talking of which, my Dad never did trust that Stalin again,he felt he let the POUMS down and later thought he was nothing but a big blood-thirsty bully.But he stayed a Socialist despite all.Then came the war. He loved Arsenal and followed them until 1971 when he died.He didn’t see the double year though as he passed away in the January.Somewhere we still have a Cup Final ticket from 1927.Dad was pretty upset about that game.He always said” that’ll teach em to wash the bloody shirts before a match!”. Then Dad would smile kindly with a twinkle in his eye and say, “funny that old Dan Lewis being a Welshman and all”. He didn’t mean anything nasty about it though and said he felt sorry for Dan to have to carry all that about for the rest of  his life.I think  Dad would have had a stern word to say about them AAA types though! They have no dignity in losing. Its like moaning about the rain.Where would we be without the rain?No food that’s for sure! But people seem to demand things these days,and get upset if they dont get what they want.
So my nephew was telling me about this here banner! My word, poor lads really, lucky them who can spend money on that daft thing.But its all perspective really,as my wife Joan would say. Im sure the poor youngsters want to win all the time.Bit potty really as footballs not really like that is it? During my time Ive seen years of barren runs.But we still cheered the Gunners on.I remember us  playing Real Madrid,cor we was excited to see them players like Puskas and. Di Stefano.Must have been back in 62 I think. We did pretty well, and at HT everyone was saying “We’ll show them”.Gave us a 4-0 beating!But it was still something special.Not much to get all upset about. You’ve got to savor these moments as they wont come back.
Joan was an marvellous person.She ran the local library, and always had her nose in books.I can still see her sitting in the chair over there, in my mind. Im more a gardener really.Tried me hand at a few watercolours,but only a few landscapes.Not much cop really.But she always encouraged me. Joan and I would sit of an evening looking out over the garden and she having read all them newfangled books on psychology and would be telling me all these new ideas,and I would be telling her about the life cycle of the Barnacle Goose! What a pair we were.You would have liked Joan.
One thing she always said was “use your loaf Fred!”.And would then tell me how to think straight and positive,or to be like a willow tree,you know bend and flex with the winds of change.What can you achieve by getting all upset? “Whats good can often later be bad and vice versa,its always hard to tell” she would say.Quite wise really.I suppose thats what wisdom is.Being smart without all the emotion. I think we need a bit more o that at our club,what do you think? And a bit more of that in our time.
Sometimes I think back to all those players from the past that wont get statues or even acknowledgement,yet they are as much as part as AFC as Henry or Bergkamp. But to the young supporters, they didnt exist.
When I used to get upset about anything in life I always thought of Mr.Rose. Mr.Rose was our neighbour, he and his wife came over from Germany in about ’38 I think.He was a lovely fellow,gentle and kind. Mrs.Rose was a bit hard and quiet,and standoffish I asked Mum and she told me to hush, and that Mrs.Rose was a shy lady that’s all. Well in the Autumn after the war a man came to their house, Dad spoke with him too and said he was a Rabbi who had come with some news.We could hear Mrs.Rose crying day after day.I asked Mum and she told me to hush, but when Dad and I were up on the allotment, he told me. All of Mr and Mrs Roses’ family had been killed in the war in those bloody horrible camps.The kids too. I was sort of stunned and shocked.Dad said “no matter how hard we think our lives are,there’s always somebody worse off”.So thats what I try to think of,you know, have a bit o perspective.Arsenal losing is pretty horrible, or so it seems, but only because we make it so and nothing compared to what the Roses family experienced.So that why I think these AAA types bloody mad as March hares!
Mrs.Rose died of what they called grief in 1949. But Mr.Rose lived on.He wasn’t the same though,he always seemed far away. He died in 1959. My Mum and Dad looked out for him as much as possible.He even came with me and Dad a few times to the Arsenal.And he liked it too.
Well, better get on,its been nice to have a chat again. Let me know if you fancy a natter again sometime.Take care o yourselves! And keep your
heads up!
Cheerioh!
Permalink
77 Comments

Arsenal – Distant Peaks Glimpsed

Posted by anicoll5 on March 17, 2016 in All Posts

 

Wadi Rum

Bon dia Positivistas,

By no means the result we were looking for but a decent performance last night against FCB I thought. There was no timidity in our approach, we brought the game to the opposition from the first to the last whistle. To meet and beat that mob, a side requires a faultless performance in defence and in converting the handful of chances that will come your way. And if by some chance you do manage to get a result over the 90 minutes then you have to do it all again, at their place! Just at the moment we are not doing ‘faultless’. Another season passes with the Champions League trophy distant on the horizon, we can see the route, we have a guide but it remains at least a day’s trek away (see above).

I thought a number of our players deserve a special mention for their efforts last night. The two most obvious are Alex Iwobi and Mo Eleny both of whom did not just put in an excellent physical performance to wrestle ownership of the midfield back and forth, they passed well, tackled cleanly and behaved as ‘professionals’. A first and very good goal for Mo that, for a little while at least, rattled Barcelona. I thought Danny and Alexis both hammered away all night in an effort to get on the score sheet. Ospina has taken over smoothly from Cech to the extent that no one even mentioned his second choice status last night. In spite of the usual naming and shaming hysteria on social media I did not see any of our players who put in what you might call a poor or bad performance.

My God I even thought the referee did OK.

Onward to Merseyside on Saturday lunchtime. While there may be an argument that we will be at a disadvantage after just two days recuperation, I thought we looked as though we had plenty of energy last night, even in the final few minutes. Our record against Saturday’s opponents is a little erratic. Traditionally they were easy meat home and away but in recent years have put up more of a fight, especially on their home turf.

There is cause for some optimism though. While Everton had a good win against Chelsea in the Cup we arrive with their Premier League form at Goodison in poor shape. Checking their last nine home PL games shows just one win (against Newcastle) four draws, and five defeats. Their most recent setbacks a 2-0 lead against the ‘Appy ‘Ammers ending in a 2-3 defeat, and a loss to Pulis’ mighty West Brom. Clearly home form like that would be grounds for a very large banner indeed in certain parts of North London but Martinez, smooth-talking Spanish chappie that he is, has floated serenely past the flak with the FA Trophy a useful shield.

Hopefully we can dent Roberto’s bland confidence and regain a little of our momentum for the final Premier League run-in. There is still a prize to play for, be in no doubt.

Have fun, but don’t go mad.

 

Permalink
137 Comments

Arsenal Versus Barcelona : Oh No! They Killed Nigel

Posted by steww on March 16, 2016 in All Posts

77d098beacdb46b65afcd3727b8ccf13a39f37a4

I grew up listening to the Archers. No, that’s understating it. I probably heard Barwick Green while I was still in the womb. My mother, you see, is a lifelong devotee. The radio has always been an important part of my life from Listen With Mother (which I did, both ante and post natal) through radio dramas and book serialisations to timeless comedies like Hancock and ISIHAC. The Archers was the stitch that held the whole thing together. I can still vividly recall where I was when Mike Tucker lost an eye, Eddie took Clarrie to Norfolk for their anniversary and whenever I think of Mark Hebdon’s death I am transported back to the kitchen in my old house, the sense of shock which stopped me in my tracks as I prepared our supper, as palpable today as it was all those years ago.

When the internet arrived and grew into a feature of our daily lives I discovered to my joy that the BBC had set up what was then known as a message board for people like myself who’s real lives were hopelessly entangled with the radio soap. We could discuss our favourite characters, rage at the ones we disliked and argue with one another over how awful or dire the current episode was. I discovered that far from being a bland middle class woman with a penchant for horses and other people’s husbands, Shula was in fact a hate figure for many of the shows most ardent fans. Nigel was loved and David despised, everybody loathed the writers but nowhere near as much as the editor and were to a man and woman all mildly deranged. I loved it.

It was baffling but wonderful to be connected with a world wide network of similarly minded people and to realise just how much more they knew about the show than I did and how much more they cared and how many of them seemed to find listening to it little short of torture. The years passed and the message board became as important if not more so than the programme itself. Even if I missed an episode I knew what folk thought of the plot (ridiculous) the acting (lamentable) the producer (sack her!) and could weigh in with my own venomous or light hearted contributions.

Then they killed Nigel.

In a move more Albert Square than Ambridge the powers that be decided that the Archers sixtieth anniversary was such a big occasion it ought to be marked in some dramatic fashion. Not just with a documentary or a book release but within the story arc of the show itself. They broke the rules. They killed off a much loved character in a ridiculous fashion and without the merest passing thought of the history of the show and what made it great. It was a cheap shot and a needless one and many of us were so outraged we vowed never to listen again and I haven’t.

I realise now that had I not dived into the world of online dissection and over reaction I would probably never have known I should have been so cross about Nigel’s death. I would in all likelihood have continued with my curious, furtive addiction and still be enjoying the goings on at Brookfield to this day. As I looked through the swirling cesspool of anguish and over blown emotion on both sides of the internet debate in which the simple love of football has drowned since Sunday’s defeat, I can’t help wondering if I’ve been making the same mistake all over again.

Back in the day, when there were wolves in Radstock and hair on my head, I used to turn eagerly to the sports pages in the hope that there would be something – anything – about Arsenal. If there wasn’t it was a disappointment but I got over it. When the scientific revolution exploded into our homes I discovered people were blogging about the club. Some of them were doing a pretty good job too, more honest and earthy than the staid journalists, more partisan. I was cock a hoop. I could read about Arsenal every day, guaranteed, some times from two or three different perspectives. Once I plucked up the courage to add a comment or two I was suddenly swept along on a wave of conversation, commiseration, celebration and tactical analysis. I was through the back of the wardrobe and into a world I couldn’t have dreamed possible.

Nowadays the prospect of Arsenal taking a trip to Spain in the hope of conquering impossible odds in the European cup isn’t one of nervous anticipation. Instead it is an exercise in wading through despair, factionalism, hatred, argument for its own sake and a long drawn out game of playground one-upmanship. Trust me there won’t be any winners in this. I’ve been down this road before. If we football fans don’t find a way to just enjoy the matches as they come and shrug off the inevitable defeats as we once did, we might wake up one morning to find our love of the game suffocated by this artificial world of the armchair expert and the keyboard warrior.

Before you point out the irony of me using a football blog to make this statement, I’ve got that already. Also there’s no need to tell me that football is different from every other passion, is special in some way because I don’t believe it is. There could come a day, and it might come sooner than you think, when all of this garbage that sadly envelopes what could and should be a fun way to stay in touch with other supporters actually destroys our passion for the club. It may already be too late. We may already be in free fall, or we may just be teetering on the edge.

I am painfully aware that I ought to be excited at the prospect of an historic European night right now, and not concerned at the reaction if we don’t make it. If I feel like this, imagine what it must be like for the honourable, decent man who stands every day at the eye of the storm. He must feel like climbing to the roof of Lower Loxley.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , Permalink
72 Comments

Arsenal – Just the Pair

Posted by anicoll5 on March 14, 2016 in All Posts

 

Theo-Walcott

Good Morning Positivistas,

Our  FA Cup trip is over, and what a magnificent ride it has been, extending back to the despatch of the Totties on 4th January 2014. 26 months undefeated in a knock out competition ? Two more FA Cups to adorn the stadium bunting. Remarkable and a record to be celebrated, not mourned.

I suppose, if you pressed me, I would have to say I hoped that when we did finally stumble that it would be to lose 5-4 in the FA Cup final at Wembley in extra time, following a game of overwhelming football quality etcetera. As the matters turned out we lost to the odd goal in three against a good Watford side. The goal that actually took them through and us out was in fact a beautiful strike from Guerdioura, among the best of the season that I have seen. I salute the Algerian. Losing at the Ems is never pleasant and in a game against opponents who we defeated quite easily a few months back – that is FA Cup football however, the potential for upset is woven through the competition. It is the season, in both the Premier League and in the FA Cup, where the peasants have stormed the throne.

Of the match itself I see yesterday’s comments following Mr Black’s excellent preview set out most of the factual material and opinion. There seems little purpose of rehashing the thrust and counter thrust again. Clearly we could have done some things better. Until the final seconds it still appeared, to me at least, that we could retrieve the tie. Ighalo had earlier swivelled, shot and scored; as the final grains of sands tricked through the glass Danny swivelled, shot and the ball looped over the bar. I shall remember those few seconds for a long while. That is why I watch football.

Reading the hysterical reaction on social media during the game, and in the aftermath of our narrow defeat I sensed that a few of the normally more sensible fans were using the occasion to vent a little frustration, a cathartic expulsion of words and thoughts that had built up and which required an outlet. The examples of “I never want to see X* in an Arsenal shirt again” (* insert name Chambers, Gabriel, Per, Gibbs, Le Coq, Giroo, Theo, AN Other). Even Alexis and Ozil we not spared the accusatory finger. Perhaps those players who did not feel the angry digital mob at their heels can regard themselves as blessed. A good afternoon to be rested or to carry an injury.

For the best of Arsenal supporters the option must be there to howl at the moon, pointless though the gesture is.

Assuming then that over the past 16 hours or so we have individually and collectively managed to pull ourselves together, where does this leave us ?

Next up Barcelona. The pressure is largely off. We are expected to lose. FCB assume the tie is over, Pique went far as to avoid the game and erase his card count. I suspect that on Wednesday that we shall send out our strongest side and try to take from the Catalans what we can. That Nacho and Hector were rested suggests that they will be in action and busy on Wednesday. Danny will be keen to ensure the fine margins he missed by yesterday can be corrected at the first opportunity. As with yesterday the game will be decide by the team that take their chances.

Right that is my two penneth on matters Arsenal this sunny Spring morning. Enjoy the opening of your week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Permalink
141 Comments

Arsenal Versus Watford: Candles In The Wind

Posted by steww on March 13, 2016 in All Posts

What a weekend this could turn into. Shotta said he experienced the kind of disturbance in his waters which set off a rumbling in his tail bone causing him to wonder if the stars might align in our favour in one giant, glorious three day festival of sporting joy. Could Rafa sprinkle magic onto the King Power turf and inspire a Newcastle miracle? If so would it be the bookend to a weekend which saw City squander two of their three points in hand, England overcome their Welsh bogey, Chelsea get knocked out of the cup and the longest awaited most deserved red card ever being shown to that nasty little Chelsea player with who’s name I shall not sully the clean sheets of our pristine blog.

I am not one to question the strange spirits which so moved the vitals of one of our finest fans but Shotta knows, and so do you and I, that all of these events both past and in a hopeful, longed for future will mean little if we cannot do our bit and overcome The ‘Orns in our lunchtime FA Cup quarter final. The league results could still turn out in a manner helpful to our cause but Chelsea’s exit from our cup would be like ashes in the mouth if we fail to progress to our third successive semi final.

There is a lot of talk about prioritising this competition over that. This kind of cheap chat is of course the prerogative of the fans; people like us who have nothing to lose and who’s ideas and opinions will never be tested. We can spout any old baloney and deride as clichéd and empty the talk of dealing with the next match as it comes and focussing only on that game. Surely though, Arsène Wenger is quite correct to never give up on any of the competitions in which his team has a chance of success no matter how slight that might appear to be.

Imagine the opposite. Imagine a manager throwing everything at the FA Cup and writing off the Champions League because it looks an unlikely bet or the league because his team must rely on the mistakes of others. What kind of manager would that be? Not the kind I want running the side I support. Not the kind ever likely to inspire his players to success.

If our lads think about Barcelona while on the pitch against Watford they will surely come a cropper. We can indulge in such idle luxuries because it isn’t our careers on the line.  We can miss a goal because we’re composing a pithy tweet, or trying to favourite a post on Positively Arsenal, but if a player misses one because his mind isn’t fully on the job in hand, he jeopardises his place in the starting line up.

I think it is important to understand the distinction between those of us for whom football is a passionate distraction and those who actually build their careers upon it. There seems to be a trend among some supporters to imagine their club owes them something. Their argument runs along the following lines. I’ve paid so much money following this team that I have earned the right to demand this or that from the club. Phooey. Yes you heard me, phooey I say. What utter garbage.

If I went to see every gig during the Burning Hell’s upcoming tour of Britain and Continental Europe it would bankrupt me. Would that give me the right to demand their next album contain songs written in a style of my choosing? No. Of course not. The price of admission  would buy me the right to watch the band. It wouldn’t buy me the right to watch them play well nor to watch them play the songs I like best. They could play two hours of Lighthouse Family covers, and as long as they hadn’t promised otherwise I would have no grounds to complain, would I?

It is no different with football. If you buy a ticket to the match and lose half a days pay and spend thirty quid on petrol getting to the game, all that ticket entitles you to is to see a football match. Not to see a good one, not to see a side composed in line with your personal fancy and certainly not to see a victory. You pay to rent a seat for a couple of hours inside a stadium where a match will take place and that is all you can actually expect for your hard earned.

Do you have the right to moan and grumble if the team was shit and the match dull? Certainly you do. You can also moan that your mum never cut the crust off your sandwiches and that it rained when you went to Bognor for that week back in the long hot summer of seventy six. You can complain about anything you want to but if you choose to do it repeatedly and noisily and publicly and to the detriment of the atmosphere in the ground you will almost certainly make it harder for the team you support to win.

If you really, really don’t like the style of play and are really and truly dissatisfied with the results achieved by the team, I’m going to let you into a secret. You don’t actually have to go to the game at all. If the Burning Hell start sounding like the Lighthouse Family I’ll stop listening to them eventually. Not straight away. I really love the band and would of course give them a chance to mend their ways but I don’t think I’d bother spoiling the gig for the musicians and those who were enjoying it just because it wasn’t my cup of tea. After all that would make me a special kind of arse wouldn’t it?

Today’s opponents have lost three of their last six and only scored one goal in those six matches. They’ve also only conceded five and so while they appear to carry little threat in attack their are not exactly porous at the back. If we come at them in the same way we did against Hull we should be fine. Should be. I don’t take any side visiting the Emirates lightly so don’t read that as over confidence. I simply believe that when we cut loose and play with freedom and élan, we are good enough to beat anybody.

Some thought we started badly in the replay on Tuesday and while it is true we played with more verve, more dash and danger once we’d scored, I thought we were simply cautious, feeling our way into the game and not taking chances. Once we had the opposition on the back foot we went in for the kill. It was a similar story against Spurs in our last league game and had the pressure born fruit before half time when they were on the ropes I’m sure we’d have seen a different outcome.

Today is a chance for the manager and the players to get us to Wembley yet again, if only for a semi final. A chance for someone to be add their name to a long list of Arsenal FA Cup stars and a chance for the supporters to get more for their money than just a seat in the stands. Fortunately the overwhelming majority understand that and I’m sure will give their all to help carry the team. If you have the great good fortune to be at the match I hope you are in good voice. After all, as Shotta said, this could end up being a very good weekend indeed.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , Permalink