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A Tail From The Shed

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on March 10, 2016 in All Posts
FROM THE SHED. Fred Paxford, Gunner aged 82.
Afternoon! I just got back from a spot of fishing, caught me a small Trout, and a Perch,but I put them back though, having been through them war years as a nipper, I like see things alive not dead. But that’s my business even if you thinks Im a queer sort.
Anyway, I like to come up here to me shed and have a good ruminate away from this noisy world of ours and open up me flask and have a cuppa and a couple o shortbread biscuits. My nephew has one of them computers like you lot, and he showed me what all you have a chat about at PA. I used to like a drop of IPA, but after the Cup Final 1950 I jacked it in.I put me lawn mower over the front room carpet I was so drunk!Mugs game. Although I still have an Arsenal mug, while we’re on the subject-so to speak. But I like having a read of what you’ve got to say,or my nephew reads it out mostly of an evening when he drops by or sometimes on a Saturday lunch.
Anyway, I fancied chewing the fat with you about these here AAA. Daft as a brush some of them! Now what would you say if you saw me in me braces shouting up at the clouds on a rainy day flapping me arms and legs and cursing to the heavens asking wheres the Sun? He’s mad Im? Well thats what I think of that lot.Once the games over, there’s no need to get all hot and bothered under the collar,there’s nothing you can change is there? Anyone can look back in hindsight and be an expert. Life barmy, that’s the way it is.And if youre barmy too then you can get up to all sorts of tricks and thats no good is it? Things are always a changing,you only need to look to the weather to understand that!But this lot, well they moan themselves potty after a game.As if they could do any better! I met Cliff  Holton twice, and that Jimmy Logie, but I knew I could never do what they did.Cor, what players thems were. But I would never have told em how to play. They would have boxed me ears!
Perhaps Im getting a bit soft in me older years, but I always thought being supporter was to cheer the lads on? Mind you its nothing new. There’s always been the moaning types. Moaning their boats races off as if we all want to hear!
If I were cussing at me taters like this here AAA lot do at the lads, me taters would never want to grow,let alone come out of the earth.You see, I water and look after me taters, and me flowers and give em a bit o encouragement.You should see my greenhouse. If you come around next summer, I’ll give you a few tomatoes,won a few prizes in me time.But do you get what Im saying?Not rocket science is it!?
But these Anti lot seem a bit wet behind the ears. Expecting fireworks every weekend, I mean the other side wants to win too! Cor, bit of s shock them boys from Leicester aint it! And Im not too happy about Spurs, but weve seen em fade away plenty of times havent we?
My nephew said that Ozil has been getting a lot of stick and the Welsh lad,Aaron. I suppose the Anti lot wouldn’t know a great player even if they dropped in their laps! Shame her Majesty cant sort it out,her being Queen and all and a Gunner to boot.Mind you I voted Socialist myself back in the old days, but that Thatcher started all this here greed and them fly by nights Blair and Brown, they finished off Socialism and finished off what Thatcher started. None of em care about gardens much,car parks more like.What a shame!
But that Ozil, hes bloody marvellous. Dont you just love watching him play? I like all the lads,but that Joel Campbell hes one to watch too.Old Wenger hes done a good job, going to be  tough one to follow! And that spanking new stadium. I’ve never been me self, as I live out of town now, but I certainly went to Highbury more times than I can recall.In the end I got fed up of getting soaked down the Clock End and went up into the West stand, which is funny, as it was standing in those days.I enjoyed all me games. Wasn’t all roses thats for sure. We had it made in many respects since Wenger came along.
Do you think these anti brigade blokes actually like the game?
Mind you, them newspaper fellas, they like stirring up a heap of trouble dont they? Some of em dont like our club for sure!And some of them silly celebrities. Thems not my cuppa you know. My nephew likes to keep me informed of them silly sods and I think he tries to wind me up! Load of old codswallop!
Well looks like it might rain, and Ive kept you long enough and I’d better get on me bike and get home. Im reading a good book at the minute by JPG Lewis,” the complete illustrated history of concrete”. But if you fancy another chat,just give me a shout, Im often up at me shed hiding from all this here ‘much ado about nothing’ thats in the world today and sometimes it can get a bit lonely.But Ive enjoyed me chat with you.
Cheerioh!
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85 Comments

Arsenal – Tigers tamed

Posted by anicoll5 on March 9, 2016 in All Posts

giroud-rocking-baby-celebration-march-2016

Sabā il kẖayr Positivistas,

Despite the downpour currently inundating North West Norfolk a fine morning to be a Arsenal supporter I’d say. We can bask in the  warm glow from last night’s victory against, yet again, a stubborn Hull side. Checking the book it is more than a year since we put four or more unanswered goals past an opponent. The last time we managed such a crushing result away from home was 3rd December 2012 at the DW Stadium (for those grasping the long departed and lightly missed Wigan).

To bring in the result just three days after an exhausting North London derby, with players missing and on a night when the curse of further injury ambushed us at the KC was even more to our credit.

Of the game itself a fair opening from us, busy in midfield, rock solid at the back, but a little toothless in the final third. We kept at our work however and the dividend came in a rotten back pass from Meyler, and Olivier slotting the ball through the legs of the diving Jakupovic. 652 minutes according to the man on the TV since the locals had to put up with that indignity, 7+ games – I admit I was surprised! If the Bosnian keeper had the a good game and a slice of luck at the Ems three weeks ago his fortune had surely deserted him last night.

So 1-0 up and playing smoothly up to half time the shot from Kieran deserved a goal and I would be delighted to see him and Hector, and Nacho, trying that more often. We have never had prolific full backs in terms of scoring goals but the occasional strike in tight games can contribute mightily.

After half time we wobbled, caused through a combination of Hull picking up their game, and the series of injuries with first Nacho down and obviously hurt, then Gabriel pulling up. Having lost Per to a bang on the head ( no one mention the ‘c’ word – ssshhhh) the evening showed signs of unravelling.

But no – having wobbled we regained our composure, our defence was resolute and then, on 71 minutes, scored what was the killer goal on the night. In its way the second goal opened up the Hull defence as easily as our first. Nice ball in from Theo, exactly where it was meant to be, right height, right weight, right time. For Olly who has suffered some wretched luck in front of goal over the past few weeks it was a second gift, neatly unwrapped and buried.

The remainder of the game was anti-climax, The home side recognised they were not going to come back from 2-0, they knew it, we knew it, they streamed for the exits and an early fish supper, the away fans sang and most* Arsenal fans pondered where to watch the match on Sunday.

Though it would have been easy to settle for the two goal win up popped Theo with a pair of fine finishes. The first was created by probably the best pass of the night from Joel, a perfect diagonal Pythagoras would have been proud of, the second found our English striker/winger pushing in from the right and his deflected shot spun in. Good finishing and a boost to the boy, another who has spent weeks on the bleak plain of indifferent form.

My man of the night though has to be Mo Elneny. I thought he was excellent all night in central midfield, creative going forward, his passing accurate, disciplined when the opposition brought the ball forward, solid tackling, and even winning balls in the air. A little unlucky to be booked for his one foul, but even that had a certain ‘tactical’ origin.

Others worthy of praise Alex Iwobi, the Flamster who silently tidied midfield then slipped neatly into right back, and David Ospina. Just one great save from our keeper last night. Had he allowed the Hull chance to get in front on half an hour …….. well, who knows!

 

Enjoy your Wednesday.

 

 

* And no I am not giving ‘them’ space on this blog.

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134 Comments

Arsenal Versus Hull : Happy Valley

Posted by steww on March 8, 2016 in All Posts

I have, since escaping school at the first available opportunity, travelled a wide and colourfully varied career path. I’ve been a civil servant, a builder’s labourer, a steeplejack, an interior designer and a security guard. That is to name but a few of my interesting and ultimately short lived attempts at finding the ideal method of bringing home the veggie bacon. The role I found suited me most snugly however was that of publican. I ran my bar in the manner I would like any licensed premises to be run, were I the customer. We never made any money but then we were quite disposed to giving away free drinks and paying the people who worked for us. I’d have been kicked out of capitalism college in the first term.

I despise with a passion, soulless, corporate chain pubs. A bar or public house should always reflect the personality of the owner. The best of them thrive on idiosyncrasy, curiosity, the unusual and not on some bland, lowest common denominator, artificial sterility. One way in which our bar reflected both myself and my business partner’s individual charms and dispositions  was the passive, friendly and peaceful atmosphere. We enjoyed an inclusive, calm, left-field environment in which we and our friends could get regularly and spectacularly pissed.

We knew we’d succeeded because we never once had to call the police in all the years we were there. Didn’t have trouble, never resorted to violence ourselves and as such never got threatened with it by the clientèle. Proof of this particular pudding was one local hard man who enjoyed  the occasional break from his usual watering hole. He would mind his own business, sit at the far end of the bar and drink two or three quiet pints, nod and take his leave. I got into conversation with him  once and he said that while he didn’t fit in with the rest of our customers, found them all quite odd in fact, he enjoyed coming to our bar because he could be just another punter. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder, prove himself to anyone or maintain his tough man image. Folk left him alone, and he liked that.

In a similar spirit I’m sure there must be a small number of the malcontented among our vast network of supporters who enjoy the guilty pleasure of reading Positively Arsenal from time to time. Just as some otherwise sane individuals with no obvious character defects might open one of the many negative Arsenal spite blogs with which the internet is so fruitfully blessed. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if those who do are filled with a range of emotions as they shake their heads at us poor happy fools frolicking around in the perpetual sunshine of our delusions.

Like the bruiser in the bohemian bar, I’m convinced we must have some readers who enjoy a break from their daily routine of pouring scorn and hatred on our manager and players. I picture them sitting quietly, like Attenborough on the edge of a troop of fascinating simians, watching us going about our lives as if supporting a football club could actually be different from something akin to an involuntary organ donation.

There is much to be said for our positive attitude you know. As curious as we must appear to those of a less balanced and healthy disposition we are at least consistent. In a season where the club’s fortunes have leapt from hopeless to peerless and back through the floor before bobbing to the surface again we have managed to maintain our equilibrium and just plod on, celebrating the good and trying to make sense of the bad. I wonder if the bloke in the corner of the bar, the visitor, envies us this.

For everyone else this season must be the most discombobulating of rides. Those who celebrate wildly when we’re up and want to burn the whole thing to the ground after every setback must be suffering from a permanent combination of the bends, altitude sickness, oxygen starvation and excessive euphoria. Imagine gripping the tail of the Arsenal fish this season and trying to hang on as it flies, flops, sinks and shoots through the waves. No, I’m much happier keeping to the straight and narrow and hoping for the best.

It has been such a crazy ride this go around that we can face Hull City in the FA Cup and genuinely have no idea how the game might go. They did a fine job of frustrating and stifling us in the home leg, we just couldn’t find a way through. The question for me is whether they will be a little more adventurous, more confident in coming at us in front of their own fans. Their cause would surely be better served with another defend and frustrate performance, looking to hit us on the counter. It’s never quite so easy to do that in the cup when playing at home.

Many people like to pretend that footballers are a species of automaton with all of the more humble human emotions trained and brainwashed out of them. For one thing this allows them to boo and hiss and abuse their own players with impunity. For another it fits their agenda that highly paid footballers ought never to make a mistake nor commit any judgemental errors while on the pitch.

This attitude isn’t only reserved for those for whom a lobotomy would be a waste of time and effort. My late father, a hugely cerebral and gentle man who’s barometer I am not fit to tap, used to shout at Sporstnight “All the money he’s on he should never have missed that” and I can clearly recall my childhood confusion that he would utter such a glaring non sequitur. It was right up there with his assertion that we were pointing nuclear weapons at Russia because, among other things, “They don’t believe in God, son”. My point is even the best of us can stray into erroneous thinking.

Hull’s players are not automatons any more than are ours. They will surely be buoyed up by a ferocious crowd and will find it hard to maintain a disciplined approach. This I feel might provide us with the key to their back door. I hope so. Goodness knows who Arsène will send out there to unlock it tonight but I imagine a few wise old heads will be needed to temper the enthusiasm of youth. Despite important fixtures coming thick and fast and with the FA Cup holding a special significance this season, this is, for me, a massive game and I wouldn’t be surprised to see a strong line up.

Anyway, I need to crack on, I have a final chapter to draft in this damn book that you lot keep demanding I write, so I’m going to leave you to gambol in our happy valley. If you are the one sitting in the corner having strayed in from the harrowing world of endless negativity, pull up a chair, we don’t bite. You’re more than welcome to join us, all you need to remember is we don’t fight either. We support. Each other, the manager, the players and the club. It’s as simple as that really.

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12 Comments

Is Arsenal’s Season Over ?

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on March 7, 2016 in All Posts

Today is a guest post from Naill @tuwituwo

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90 Comments

Arsenal – Back on the Air

Posted by anicoll5 on March 6, 2016 in All Posts

2646Suprabhat Positivistas,

For many of us watching yesterday’s epic battle from the Lane in the UK from we suffered the ultimate horror of the armchair fan as the BT signal went down three minutes from the final whistle and a brightly coloured “ We apologise for the interruption – We will be back on the air as soon as possible” popped up. Within a minute the signal was back up in time to see Aaron bursting into the Spuds box and firing over, so it was no more than a moment of eye watering frustration on an afternoon when I had already been pacing to and from and waving my arms in the ‘technical area’ in front of the TV since the 54th minute. The slight advantage of the unexplained broadcasting blip is that the commentators, other than a far distant and faintly mumbling Hoddle, were silent for the last two minutes of the game until Mr Oliver brought proceedings to a close. The missing minute among frenetic 94 no more than a trivial footnote, other than for the unfortunate BT engineer responsible I presume.

 

Reflecting on the technological anomaly this morning than breakdown was a fair metaphor for our afternoon. Our hosts had, entirely predictably attached us vigorously for the opening 25-30 minutes. During that phase we had, I think, defended well if at times a little scruffily. For half an hour we occasionally got the ball over the half way line but could never keep it there. For al their huff and puff though just once did the home side create a clear chance and my man of the match , David Ospina, palmed away the close range effort. Having allowed their Lilywhite storm to blow itself out we took control of the game, scored a beautifully executed goal with a delightfully clever ball from Hector and a touch of magic from Aaron, and for the remainder of the half there was only one side in it. Our hosts were pinned back and, in their turn, holding on for the half time whistle to re-arrange themselves.

 

We were out first on the pitch early for that second half. On a foul weather day my impression was that demonstration of sharp enthusiasm was deliberate, goading the home fans and showing we had come for the victory. And so it proved with Tottingham not “gaining any traction” ( I love that cliché) in their efforts to recover a goal.

 

And then as surely as later in the afternoon some misguided BT engineer brought the broadcast to a sudden halt a left me and a million Arsenal fans open mouthed, young Francis committed THAT FOUL. Off he went, no complaint from either the player, or me. As I said above I started to pace, I Pointed , I shouted, my arms never still. If I had enjoyed the benefit of a fourth official I would have been constantly “at him”, as they say.

 

As Le Coq trooped down the tunnel, the following message could/should have been posted on screen on behalf of Arsenal Football Club;

 

“ We apologise for the interruption – We will be back on the air as soon as possible”

 

Entirely fortuitous though their windfall was Spuds seized the initiative and two goals in two minutes followed. But for a super save from Ospina and the miracle of goal line technology it could have been worse. The second goal from Kane was an absolute screamer. Bloody hell.

But then – but then – just like the BT signal we suddenly switched back on, we stabilised, those few minutes of unnerved disorganisation dissipated and we began to control the game again. We took possession of the ball, we had a shape again. Our passes found their target. Suddenly the ten men of Arsenal were taking the game to the eleven men in white! Did Spuds take their foot off the gas thinking the contest was over – Surely they can’t be that stupid ?

And so, gentle reader, the final phase saw us again I n the ascendancy, a well worked goal from an obviously delighted Sanchez rounded off the afternoon, though not before Gabriel had stopped a few red hearts with a shanked clearance onto the roof of the net – Brazilian humour – he is a card that boy.

Some great performances all over the pitch from our lads, Ospina, Gibbs, Hector, Danny, Aaron, and Mo Eleneny ( what a PL debut!). I would go so far as to say that after a recent “interruption” to service that we are “back on the air” again.

Enjoy your Sunday.

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Arsenal Versus Tottenham: Journey To The Gods

Posted by steww on March 5, 2016 in All Posts

hillaby

I’m reading a book written by one of my favourite authors. John Hillaby was a naturalist, historian, international perambulator extraordinaire and above all a damned fine writer. The journeys he undertook and later wrote about are littered with fascinating insights into the history of the places through which he passed and observations on the present at once pithy, unusual and dryly comedic.

While fascinated with the past he never fell into the trap of viewing it through the prism of sentimental nostalgia. He was honest about mistakes of the present but could be equally caustic on the many examples of how badly things used be done. This is just one of the many lessons Arsenal fans could learn from Mr Hillaby’s work.

The book I’m reading at the moment is unusual in that it is all about London. Nothing odd in writing about that huge, muscular sprawling powerhouse of a capital – many pages have been devoted to it in both fact and fiction. I say unusual because this is a walker, a travel writer exploring a city usually traversed via subterranean tunnels or inside slow moving metal boxes through its traffic choked streets.

I am more used to following the author through the lanes and byways as he walks the length of of the country in his peerless masterpiece Journey Through Britain. In this book Hillaby often encountered incredulity from passing motorists when he politely declined the offer of a lift. He found it difficult to explain how taking the slower, often more painful even occasionally torturous route was preferable. Where was the sense of achievement without the discomfort, the danger, the difficulties which preceded the sudden vista from the top of a Scottish mountain, or the unexpected panorama of the sea?

We may feel that we are following the slow and twisting back lanes to the title in 2016. Getting lost on what appeared on the map to be a straightforward road, or becoming stuck on the moors, waist deep in sticky mud when we seemed to be making great strides. We have taken turns which have led us in entirely the wrong direction but still somehow we are trudging on, our journey three quarters done, the other walkers drawing away from us one week then stumbling themselves when we least expect it.

Will Leicester City stick their foot down a rabbit hole again between now and May? Looking at the map they’re following it all seems to be straightforward without a bump in the road to disturb their progress. If they should unexpectedly confuse their north from their south will we be close enough to take advantage? We could do ourselves a huge favour this lunchtime by grabbing hold of the straps on Mr Pochettino’s rucksack and swinging alongside him. If we can get back into our stride today and shake off the hesitant gait which has seen us lose sight of the track on the last two legs of our journey then even the fans who seem to have lost interest in the whole trip might perk up a little bit and stop complaining about their blisters.

Hillaby was a hugely experienced walker. When he wrote Journey Through Britain he was already in his fifties and would one imagine have known all there was to know about travelling à pied. However, he still managed to find himself slowed to a near stand still with cramps, sore heels, and swollen toes even quite early in the journey. At other times he described hitting a stride with an unconscious ease which , once achieved, could, he felt, propel him without effort for days on end. He experienced a  near weightlessness, as if he were gliding across the landscape barely in contact with the sward beneath him.

It is, I suspect, the same for anybody whatever their discipline, whatever their speciality. Even top footballers used to working in harmony with one another can suddenly inexplicably find the simplest task just that little more difficult than it ought to be. Once a couple of cogs fail to mesh the entire machine looks a little ungainly and in a league as competitive as ours the couple of inches by which the end of a move is off means that instead of running out winners by four goals to two we hit the woodwork three times and lose by two to one.

Make no mistake we were not as awful as those who would rip up the map and catch the first bus home would have you believe. A team simply doesn’t create the chances we do nor come so close to scoring if they are playing that badly. Tottenham today will provide a stern test, a steep and difficult climb but the match is also an enormous opportunity. Peg them back today and we not only draw level with them on points but condemn them to back to back defeats and we know all too well how that can drain one’s moral and unchain the lunatic element lurking in the fanbase of every top team.

The odds may appear stacked against us. The stakes are high. Lose and that is three on the bounce and a very tough road ahead. Win and the momentum swings the other way, the pressure shifts, the stone is in their shoe and we begin to step more lightly across the ground, belief is rekindled.

Once John Hillaby crossed into Scotland he had already completed much of his journey and may have been forgiven for thinking the end was in sight and he could stroll to the finish, the hard walking all behind him. Of course he discovered that much rough and unpredictable terrain lay ahead of him. At one point he slipped and rolled down a sheer cliff face among a small avalanche of scree convinced he was falling to an untimely demise. He picked himself up, made a painful and tortuous return to a track he felt sure he’d lost entirely and eventually completed his journey.

Giving up was never an option. Cursing the map, the clouds which obscured his landmarks, the damaged compass or his disintegrating shoes was pointless, counter productive and more likely to guarantee failure. Belief, perseverance and a stubborn bloody minded refusal to allow the setbacks to get him down. Those were the qualities which saw him through, those were the days when he won the battle against despair – not on the beautiful sunny open meadows nor in the easy springing step across gentle turf. Anyone can do the simple stuff. It is when the going gets hard that we are all truly tested.

 

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Arsenal : When you find yourself going through Hell, keep going

Posted by anicoll5 on March 3, 2016 in All Posts

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Good Morning Positivistas,

What a night ! A delicious opportunity to reel in Tottingham and Leicester thrown away, three points that is seemed we must pick up during a good first half performance surrendered to Swansea. The evening ended with a number of players slumped, and I imagine that physical deflation was multiplied by the thousand across the fans in every corner. Even the invariably polite and articulate Arsene cracked in front of the camera. I know it took me a moment to compose myself.

Looking at the football we played I thought much of it was genuinely good. Joel Campbell was a constant attacking threat and always involved. His goal was smoother than a ripe little peach. Ramsey and Ozil worked hard and pulled the Swansea defence about all evening, Giroo provided the target around which our efforts pivoted. Did we make chances ? Oh yes, we made chance after chance. The content of the game reminded me of our thriller at the King Power at the end of September. 5-2 that finished, goals galore, Theo, Olivier and a treble from the irrepressible Chilean, a happy afternoon. If the sun shone brightly that day the weather had changed by 9.40 last night !

We find ourselves in the “perfect storm”.

A set of strikers who create chances but manage to batter only the woodwork into submission, who put the ball a millimetre to the left when a millimetre to the right is required, and often run into a keeper apparently equipped with eight tentacles rather than the standard two hands and big gloves. For the moment we can’t get the ball in the goal, or I should say more accurately we can’t get the ball in the goal enough times to overcome the effect of our second current malaise.

Allied with that misfiring offensive equipment we have a defence that seems to have lost its confidence, particularly whichever two central defenders find themselves on duty. Whether it is Per, Kosc or Gabriel when then are subject to direct aggressive attack by the opposition, when their equilibrium is upset, they seem to lapse into panic. If there is a defensive ‘plan’ (and I am sure there is) it seems to disintegrate within moments. And as their nervousness grows the opposition take advantage of the gaps and errors that such skittishness causes. Last night even the great Petr fell victim to the collective madness. Do I exaggerate ? Perhaps, but in recent games there have been a number of grim examples of allowing the attackers to take the ball, and the game away from us.

 

And yet, despite the footballing equivalent of Scylla and Charybdis, we sit still third in the League. Six points adrift but with ten games to go. To listen to some it might as well be sixteen points. Nonsense I say. With no side truly dominant in terms of form that the Premier League could/should be written off is absurd. If we were six points clear with ten games to go you and I know we would be nervously casting glances over our shoulder, and rightly so. There is much work to be done, to recover confidence, to re-sharpen technique. Do it again, do it better.

The North London Derby but three days away. Always a key fixture but this year….. ! Both sides frantic to secure the three points, both still in the chase for the title. There is no magic pill, no miracle panacea, we face a long march up a steep road, with the precipice of defeat a step away. The players must work hard, regain their optimism, and not give up, indeed never, ever give up. Will you join them ?

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Arsenal Versus Swansea: An Ugly Lovely Game

Posted by steww on March 2, 2016 in All Posts

Ever wished you didn’t have a game to watch quite so soon? Usually I find a quick turn around to be the best medicine, get the stench of defeat out of the emotional laundry with the fresh breeze of a new fixture. Unfortunately I also like to spend a few days convincing myself that it is after all only a game and asking why am I getting myself so worked up about it and telling myself there are many more important events in my life with which to concern myself. All the usual self deluding froth with which one hopes to obscure the windscreen of one’s thoughts.

After a wholly unexpected and unwelcome result at the Old T however I needed more than these past two days to want even to think about the round ball game. I had the distraction of the rugby which helped enormously as it gave me and my Man U supporting pal some safe ground over which we could walk together, deftly avoiding the potholes and land mines of football.

All credit to him. He knows I don’t talk footy to friends or enemies after a defeat. I don’t find shouting and arguing and looking for someone to blame as cathartic as others do and so prefer to change the subject and he didn’t mention it even once. Given the season they’re having and the fact that he thought we would clobber them, that must have taken some restraint.

So when I glanced at the fixtures and saw we are opening the doors and welcoming visitors from over the bridge tonight I greeted the news with slumped shoulders and a weary resigned sigh. Of course we all know that the best antidote for disillusion and regret is a thumping good victory. Should we pull one from the bag then, like you, I shall wake up on Thursday morning and place my hat at a jaunty angle before tucking into the eggs and bacon. Such are the shallow, insecure vagaries which dominate the psyche and personality of the football fan.

It is bloody silly placing our happiness in the hands of others isn’t it? I don’t mean those we trust at home, work or at play I mean people we neither know nor are ever likely to meet. Distant millionaires who know nothing of our existence and who’s lives would be entirely unaltered were you and I to perish in a freak ballooning accident over the Pyrenees taking with us all of the readership of Positively Arsenal in the resultant cabin fire.

The more I think about it the more it seems akin to that nasty habit and dangerous addiction, gambling. You decide that your mood, and that of those about whom you purport to care most, is best served by flinging all of your hopes on a bonfire set by people without your best interest at heart and who will only profit from your weakness or affliction.

And still we come back for more.

Of course if you were thinking of quitting and trying to change your life it doesn’t help when Leicester go and drop two points at home against West Brom on the eve of our next fixture. Suddenly they have extended their lead over us and the Spuds but we can, with the right result, claw back a couple of the lost Old Trafford points.

We ought not to be surprised by this. I don’t see any reason to suppose that such a topsy turvy, fairground ride of a season should suddenly level out and become predictable just because there are only ten or eleven games to go. A return to form for our men, a little help from the Hammers and Jurgen Klopp’s Flying Circus and Thursday may dawn bright and cheerful after all. Of course the reverse is equally possible and there would be many a mattress in need of changing in many a cot were that to be the case. Sales of Sudocrem would no doubt rocket judging by the infant out pouring after Sunday’s result.

In among all of this emotional wreckage Swansea FC are quietly making their way along the M4, stopping no doubt for a go on the Space Invaders and a family sized bag of Revels at Leigh Delamere, and rocking up to N7 in time for this evening’s 7.45 kick off. What mood will they be in I wonder? Buoyed by our indifferent results and their history against us they should be in the right frame of mind to give us a game tonight. I certainly hope so. I don’t want us to be faced with another packed defence, it makes for such an excruciating match.

Swansea looked like doing us a favour when they took the lead at WHL recently but according the readers of the South Wales Evening Post they are incapable of defending a lead which given our propensity for conceding the initiative is music to my ears. We all know what is wrong with our side right now, a couple of key players horribly out of form and the necessary rotation during the fixture clog disrupting the rhythm of the rest. The question is can these things be put right in such a short space of time? Who the hell knows? Not me.

It all depends how deep the malaise actually runs. It’s all too easy to look on from the outside and presume there are seismic issues here. That is usually because we are so desperate for the team to do well that we fear the worst and allow that fear to overcome our reason. The side might be just one goal away from clicking, a couple of slick moves away from rediscovering their balletic, telepathic poise – it would not surprise me one bit.

So come on boys and girls, mums and dads, let’s not allow the occasional setback to spoil the fun of following the finest team in the land. Let’s not invest so much in success that we are robbed of our dignity in defeat. Let’s try instead to remember why we are all here in the first place. To enjoy the game of football played by some of its finest practitioners, and maybe, just maybe, see them come away with a trophy every now and then. Sounds like a plan to me. You in?

 

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The Critical Gooner: Where Does It Start And Where Does It End?

Posted by ArsenalAndrew on February 29, 2016 in All Posts

They used to go everywhere together …

For some fans of Arsenal, the relationship they have with the club is akin to what I imagine a failing marriage, patched up ‘for the sake of the kids’ but fundamentally dysfunctional, feels like.

The feeling of having been here before, the compromises, the same old arguments, the same old sticking points.

Eventually though, the kids all grow up and flee the nest.

And maybe that’s where the analogy, thankfully, ends.

In some retail circles, the idea of under-promising and over-delivering holds currency as the risk of angering and then losing disappointed customers is considered too great to play games with. If you falsely promise a customer that an out of stock item will return to stock sooner than is actually the case, customer anger general exceeds the level of the original frustration of the item being out of stock in the first place.

In the ‘90’s the unknown Wenger promised less than nothing when he first pitched up at Highbury and in his first full season, as we all know, over-delivered in delightfully outrageous fashion. Who knew it would be anything more than a one-off but that first title was followed by success after success all the way through to the opening of the Emirates.

In many ways, the Emirates Stadium was the ultimate symbolic example of the appearance of a football club over-promising and subsequently seemingly under-delivering.

To some extent, we have all become the old married couple trying to get back to the way we once were. Oh for the spirit of Highbury! The romance of the cups, the hopes for the future. As upstarts, over-coming the odds, Wenger’s early years seemed so much more harmonious, so much more fun and the brick bats of outrageous fortune felt easier to handle, somehow, even when we didn’t have it all our own way.

The move to the swanky new stadium, with its swanky seats and prices to match proved to be a damp squib for too many of us, as much of a let-down as the lamentable food and drink on offer within the stadium concourse, over-priced and unloved in equal relative measure.

Most of the fans keep plodding along of course, determined to keep some semblance of the old magic alive and with most of them certain, in their heart of hearts, that our time will come again. And it’s been by no means all bad news with European competition an annual given, a couple of cups and the odd near miss punctuating ten years of a riveting, compelling style of football, widely regarded, according to many neutrals, as the nation’s favourite.

But still the underlying issues remain. The vulnerability to injury. The subsequent disruption and loss of form. The perceived annual wobble as we reach the ‘business end’ of the season followed by the frustrating recovery as thoughts turn to the next season, set up with ephemeral promise and seemingly illusory potential, over and over again.

All of the above, of course, is only true when taken in the context of the aggregation of the whole of Arsenal’s Emirates’ years.

In truth, for most other clubs, most seasons since 2006-16 would have been considered pretty exciting and very nearly very ‘successful’.

However, it is the cumulative effect of all our near-misses that is causing the problems in the marriage. Sure, there are set-piece setbacks most seasons and losing to Man U is just one of a number of ‘accelerants’ causing the bonfire of supporter frustration to flame up in what is now alarming – and alarmingly predictable – fashion. Losing (or even drawing) with Spurs is another. We all know the rest, some seasons they come and some seasons they go.

So, losing on Sunday in Manchester by a goal was always going to be disappointing for all connected with the club.

But it’s the context of the defeat, coming as it does as one of ten years’ worth of defeats at Old Trafford, that causes otherwise moderately sane fans to completely lose their rag. Their very sense of perspective causes them, ironically, to lose perspective. In reality, it was only one game. In our heads – as it is in the record books – Arsenal have failed to win in the League at OT since 2006, a remarkable statistic when looked at as a block of results.

And of course, THIS year, due to circumstances we are all familiar with, we were favourites to win this particular encounter. More fuel to the flames.

To make it all worse, much worse, Spurs only go and win from 1-0 down and the upstarts in the Midlands continue their glorious streak. That neither clubs have been able to perform at this level for more than one season will remain unnoticed by the majority of observers; the ‘fact’ is, and despite the absence of petro-dollar funding, they appear to be over-coming the odds as Arsenal continue to underwhelm.

So it wasn’t just an irksome defeat on Sunday, it was defeat whilst all around, our nearest rivals were winning, and winning in some unanticipated style. Under-promising and over-delivering, if you will.

In some ways, Wenger’s temerity in keeping us so competitive for so long has in rather bizarre fashion, been at the heart of the questioning dilemma experienced by the critical Gunner.

The glamour of European competition, the excitement of extended cup runs and lengthy unbeaten spells in the league sits on one side of a football supporting equation. On the other side, our inability to beat everyone all the time has the now default effect of causing the club to perennially over-promise and under-deliver. Season after season.

Every other manager in the league has come and gone as ultimately they failed to keep their club competitive. This includes Ferguson who knew the game was largely up when he over-paid for van Persie for a final season hurrah which ended in triumph at the cost of many years subsequent rebuilding.

Only one man has outlasted every other serving manager in the country and his record – when taken in context with the records of every single one of his competitors – really should speak for itself.

So where does that leave the Arsenal fan base?

Still leaving home games ten minutes early as they mutter about players who don’t give 110% for all 90+ minutes? Still not turning up for cup games at home, if the empty seats were anything to go by during recent encounters.

The years have ground down many of us into a whimpering mass of half-hearted support, bearing the club colours with resentment over prices and anger at the unspent sums seemingly gathering dust in the accounts. Pissed off with the pies and the, er piss on sale in the stadium. No longer focussed on the delivery of unconditional support for the club they once truly loved, their energy dissipated by the latest outrage vocalised and amplified on social media.

At the end of the day, on Sunday, Man U played rather unexpectedly well for their three points which were hardly undeserved. For 70 minutes we kept Barca at bay. And against Hull, whilst we never looked like losing, our out of form attack could not find a way through.

They say this could – and still might – be Arsenal’s season to win the Premier League. Momentum is clearly not with us in the way it has been with Leicester all season and, more latterly, Tottenham. It will take a monumental effort from the players to regain traction to overtake rivals who will be unlikely to repeat the trick in 12 months’ time with the burden of European Cup Competition added to their unlikely fixture mix.

I agree with many who suggest the Arsenal squad this season have failed to truly hit the heights of the form we all assume they are capable of. The Ozil assist record sits uncomfortably alongside our missed chances tally.

But as fans we all have to ask ourselves one question.

Let’s imagine the team rediscover their shooting boots, remember to lock the back door and deign to dominate midfield to go on a season-ending marauding run that takes us to the very front door of being next year’s champions.

Will we as fans have managed to stay with them? To help push them through the door and over the threshold of footballing bliss.

Or will our boys end up winning – or losing – regardless of the fans.

Have we as fans become irrelevant to the success and failure of our own club?

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Arsenal : Oh Cruel Fate …..

Posted by anicoll5 on February 28, 2016 in All Posts

The End of the World

“Oh Cruel Fate, when wilt thou weary be?

When satisfied with tormenting me ?

What have I e’er designed, but thou hath crost ?

All that I wished to gain by thee, I’ve lost.”

 

Good afternoon Positivistas,

Though for some of you it may still not be beyond noon, and for all of us the adjective “good” is at best superfluous and more likely grossly inaccurate. A hugely disappointing performance at Trafford Park, and a result that may have reduced the genuine chance of a Premier League title that we came into the game with to an outcome of arithmetical possibility, again.

On paper, that deadly old ‘paper’ that so often defies and upends logic in football, we were favourites to win in Manchester. On ‘paper’ the makeshift United side, poor at home and weak away, their manager on the abyss, reliant on youngsters, was a Sunday lunch that should have been efficiently consumed. Instead we slink away, beaten, in truth deservedly beaten, and with a degree of embarrassment. It is one thing to be cut open by Barcelona, quite another to be dissected as we were for the third, horrendous and ultimately decisive goal from Herrera this afternoon.

With the exception of Petr Cech, Hector and Danny Welbeck I doubt any of our players will feel much satisfaction today, or look back on the ninety minutes as a game in which they performed to their abilities. The passing was not crisp, the several goal scoring chances we created just not sharply enough take, the TEMPO that needed to get hold of the ball and seize control of the game was never there. We performed at 6 out of 10, when at least 7 was required. I do not intend to launch a witch-hunt and identify who did what, or did not do what. That is not my, or our, way on Positively Arsenal. We bring support, not accusation, despite the winds blowing bleak in our faces some days. I suspect however that the starting line up today will not be the same as begins against Swansea nor at the Lane next Saturday. And that leads us on to the reality of football, that all glory, all despair, elation or deflation is transient.

Right, so having got the sack-cloth and ashes routine out of the way I see that we have 11 Premier games to play, and 33 points therefore to play for. It is time to steady the ship, not rock the boat. The first of those games, as I say, is against the Swans on Wednesday at home, a contest that is eminently winnable. As long as we are not playing the game on ‘paper’. Our North London neighbours, who much to their credit earned three valuable points against the same visitors today, have a slightly rougher trip to the Boleyn ground on the same night. Let us claw a little self respect back, and three useful points, before the game at the Lane, then see where we are on Saturday morning.

 

I am sure you will understand If I provide a slightly shorter version of the match report this afternoon. I sense the reduced burden will benefit us all.

 

 

 

 

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