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

Posted by anicoll5 on March 3, 2016 in All Posts

the_perfect_strorm_image

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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Arsenal Versus Manchester United : Sympathy For The Devils

Posted by steww on February 28, 2016 in All Posts

Ricky Gervais is a funny bloke. A far more talented actor than he is ever given credit for and pretty sound on several issues, most obviously our systematic abuse of other species. He also likes to wind people up. Not with the mindless trolling employed by those less cerebrally gifted than him but in a way intended, one suspects, to provoke us to consider what he’s saying and examine our own prejudiced positions.

Lately, via the medium of Twitter, he has been exploring the concept that while calling an individual daft or stupid can be insulting, describing an idea in such terms cannot. By definition an idea shouldn’t really be able to be offended or to take anything we say personally. After all, it doesn’t have a person does it? Many have refused to accept this argument and continued to hurl abuse and incoherent, frothing rage at their screens when he pours scorn on an idea to which they subscribe.

I broadly agree with Mr Gervais on this issue but feel he is a little disingenuous if he really is ignoring certain perfectly understandable human traits inherent in all of us. If, for example, I think an idea is pretty neat and you call that idea a bladder full of rancid rat’s offal then some of that mud sticks to me for holding the aforementioned offal in such high esteem. You are, by association, implying I have either failed to think the thing through or am too hopeless to spot how silly the idea was in the first place. So yes, an idea cannot take offence but the person who sees their idea under fire from the excrement gun is likely to feel smeared by at least a small amount of collateral ordure.

All of this came to mind as I was twiddling my thumbs wondering when the day would dawn when I finally wrote a match-day blog and actually failed entirely to mention the football. I am after all a rank amateur with no inside knowledge or special insight only hired because George enjoyed my ability to turn a phrase or two. Having your name above a newspaper column or blog page does not of itself confer upon you any particular status.

This is the same for celebrity fans who wield no more weight with their opinions simply because their theatrical careers have thrust them into the public eye. I like famous fans to be like Marc Riley or Bob Mortimer who’s public utterances are entirely impossible to separate from yours and mine. Simply supporters cheering their side on, singing when they’re winning and lambasting the ref when he gets it wrong. Just as it should be. Some of our own famous fans have failed spectacularly to realise their place on this earth and have flipped, flopped and issued verbal farts of a most distressing stink since the money which poured into Stamford bridge and Manchester so distorted the Premier League.

I don’t intend to name the one who leaped to mind – these graceless oafs have more than enough coverage without I add sticks to the bonfire of their vanity. I recall him being interviewed on TV just before a big game, possibly a cup final, possibly not. This was back in the golden years and he was purring over how Arsène’s team would pass the opposition of the park and revelling in his association with the club. Years later, during the Stadium Debt Years he only spoke to garner cheap laughs and to make sarcastic remarks at the expense of our players and of course the manager.

I used to despise people like this but then I thought of the whole Ricky Gervais thing and realised what was happening. These vacuous attention hungry whores were basking in the reflected glow of the team and its achievements. By association they felt more successful because their team was successful. When the trophies dried up and the media began their unrelenting campaign of negativity on the subject of all things Arsenal the poor dears felt smeared by that same association.

So this guy panicked and tried everything in his power to say “No no – this doesn’t reflect on me at all, look see, I too think the club is mismanaged, staffed by donkeys and without hope or value. Not only that see how clever I am when I take the piss out of them. Love me, love me, love me.”

He and his ilk simply didn’t want to be conflated with an idea which appeared to be held in derision. They were of course forgetting that a supporter’s role, no matter what their day job, is to support, through, as Bob Wilson’s quote at the top of this and every PA page reminds us, thick and thin.

Just as we supporters were delighted with Yaya Sanogo’s goal scoring feats against Reading yesterday so the failures and birth mistakes among our fanbase, whether famous or humble, greeted the news with sarcasm and scorn. It’s a shame that you and I and those malcontents are talked of by the fence sitters as being all as bad as each other. The one side of the divide does not support the club and we do. It is simply surreal to say a pox on both your houses as if supporting the club is as idiotic and counter productive as not supporting it.

There we are though. This is the fate of the modern fan and it is a burden we must bear with equanimity and good grace. I don’t believe we ought to puff ourselves up with pride when the team does well any more than we should take it personally when Arsène’s ideas are reduced to a hissing and a byword. Neither is down to us.

Having said all of that I must confess that there are few real absolutes in football. Apart from the first commandment “Thou shalt not support Bristol City” and the second “Thou shalt mock any team from Middlesex” the whole thing demands a certain fluidity of thought, a malleability of prejudice from its followers.

Imagine for example Jose Mourinho taking over at Arsenal. I don’t say it would ever happen but if it did we’d have to find something positive not just to say but to think about the man. A man we have held in contempt for so long the habit must be engrained in us like the name of a resort in a stick of rock.

Imagine if the manager of Manchester United took such an exciting and justified stance against the revolting lickspittles of the British press corps that we feel like jumping up and applauding him. Imagine if his side suffered the kind of injury blight usually reserved by the fates only for Arsenal. It might be impossible not to empathise and even sympathise with a club who so recently made our lips curl at the mention of its name. Imagine if they sunk so low in the table that they were no longer a threat. We might find ourselves in a less vituperative mood towards them. Odd how things change. How some of our fans are already turning on Leicester for their tactics, individual players for their cheating, referees for their leniency towards them, the media for fawning over them.

I don’t suggest we should rush out and hug the first Man United fan we meet in the street but today sees us visit a ground no longer reeking of sulphur. A fixture I used to detest over all others has been eclipsed by visits to Stamford Bridge and to the Potteries.

I am not predicting victory, I haven’t, I hope, an hubristic bone in my body, but we do not travel to Salford with anything close to the trepidation as that in days of yore. They are a side unable to put a decent run together so disrupted have their manager’s plans been and we are a side capable of great football but with our goal threat blunt and our scorers misfiring. They will field youngsters eager to impress and we will face a choice between an out of sorts Theo, a delicate and recuperating Danny and Joel a man in danger of becoming sidelined once again. I prefer to see Aaron farther forward and Santi or Jack partnering FC at the base of our midfield but that can’t happen and anyway I’m not a football manager – thank God. Neither am I famous enough to have an opinion that matters.

I just support the club, win, lose or draw. It’s about all any of us can do really. Oh, and I’m going to try not to take it personally if someone thinks that is a stupid idea.

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Arsenal v Barcelona:Heard and not Seen

Posted by anicoll5 on February 24, 2016 in All Posts
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Normally you would be in the expert hands of Andrew and he would be writing this up, however he’s on the old Eurostar going or coming, to here or there so I’ve volunteered to stand in or write in or write up, and no doubt will soon be standing down.Perhaps it is “writes up?” but knowing things are,Wrights probably down after yesterday.
Except I haven’t seen the game, I heard it.The old Blind Pew experience!
I listened “in” to the excellent service supplied by AFC on Arsenal player, as for us located outside of the UK, the BBC puts blocks on Five Live over the radio-wave borders.Thanks Bleeb (as good ol’Fins would say).
Dan Roebuck is the commentator general  (and a fine asset to AFC he is) and in this occasion he was ably assisted (as he often is) by ex-Gunner, Stephen Hughes.
If you don’t listen “in” to the match-day coverage, aside of you genuinely missing an articulate commentary on the action, you are also missing out on the in-jokes. For example, whose wearing the lucky(ha ha that old chestnut!)scarves, or if the lucky brussels sprout that a chap from Spain puts into his freezer on match days is working and now after last night we had the  ‘lucky’ cabbage that somebody else shoved in the freezer in order for us to win the game.
And then there’s the Gooners who knit while the games in play, who go by the name of Sarah and Megan for whom or what is well beyond moi, but it seems to sooth the old nerves apparently and good on them. The microcosm of superstition in Gooner-world is mightily fascinating. Who knows how bizarre it can get, a great index of possibilities?Somebody even offered to get in a freezer for luck themselves yesterday(no joke) rather than shoving the lucky cabbage in there  —- all in the name of Lady Luck. How she is courted! (why is she a she pray tell?)…
Anyway,from what I could hear, King Mesut’s  pre-match urge to the fan-base gebirge was to be as loud as possible in order to sweep the team along,and it certainly sounded that way,which meant high octane excitement to those of us imagining the in-play. And the whistle blew and the game got under way.
All I can recall from the first half is that the Ox messed up a chance, and we seemed to be doing well and then the Ox took a knock and tried to play on, and limped off into the tunnel at HT. I think most Arsenal fans thought(myself included) that we might be able to win this game,yet really
I was terrified that the old Vampire might start tearing us apart not with his teeth but with his skill, but obviously the crosses were out and everyone had scoffed a load of garlic,but he certainly came close to scoring at the end of the half. Mind you old Bela Lugosi, hes a good player despite his biting antics.
However the Ox came on for the second half, but couldn’t run the injury off and he went back down the tunnel again.
The crowd in the stadium didn’t sound as loud in the second, yet I recall some intense pressure by Arsenal including a close chance by Larry and then Barcelona making a counter attack and scoring. The commentary team echoed that strange feeling that you get from watching (or listening) an Arsenal game,the kind where you hope for something extraordinary and it starts to slip away and everyone’s mouths starts drooping like Bruce Grobbelar’s moustachio (for those of you too young to know, Bruce was a famous TV chef). After that there weren’t too many jokes by the voices on the internet radio. And nobody gave a crépe about the cabbage, brussel or the bloke in the freezer.Maybe hes still there,nice and still, next to the peas?
As the Arsenal were still hanging on and who knows what might happen, I started wondering if  they could they repeat the same result as back in 2011? Time flies doesn’t it?What a game that was, and regardless of his loyalty to AFC, old Van der Graf-Percy could certainly strike a ball.What a game Jack had that night too, and how difficult things have been for him since.
Switch! back to the game… a defensive mistake by Per lead to What a Mess by Frank Muir getting hacked by the Flamkuchen and a  penalty it was.And became converted by the big Mess.At that point everyone seemed to think it was over.And after a bit of added time it was.
I’m personally not part of the tweety-pie world or go on the devils-own blogs anymore as life is too short,but if I was the Comté de St.Germain (living forever) and took the luxury of looking at Tweetsville and the blogs, I’m sure I would observe the frothing phlegm and finger pointing meltdown on at Per,Larry,AOC and the Flammkuchen. Not that the critical voices could do any better themselves.Yes, I know we’ve all aloud to have an opinion, but as  Alvy Singer would say ” do you have to give it so loud?”
If they could then perhaps they might have played for the Arsenal,and taken a bit of responsibility, but such is the phantasy world of armchair illusion is that when you sit in it, you too believe that you can be a Arsenal player of the highest calibre, either that or become weird bloke Davros and try to take over the world or the internet or even your own living room?
You see the armchair converts you into a bionic Gunner.The sideburns of Charlie George, the left foot of Liam Brady, the grit of Tony Adams and the rest from Mr. Henry. and the intelligence of that old Arsenal fan,Einstein. My Arsenal.Even Gus Cesar was better than any of them thar grumble-weeds. But I wont tell them if you don’t.
Well, what can we do? Perhaps listen to the tune by Rodgerd and Frankenstein “Happy Talk” that was in a film called South Pacific, made in 1958 about life on a farm in the mid- west during Christmas. Anyway some lyrics go like this…
“Happy talking talking happy talk, talk about things you like to do, if you don’t have a dream how you gonna have a dream come true?” um beep beep, um beep beep-that bit isn’t in the lyrics though and it goes on a bit longer, but ye get the point?
Yousa thinks that’s potty? Now way guy, that’s the only way,even if old Lao Tze says it aint! Per needs support, what the point of frying his Arsenal when he knows what happened?So do all the other lads and so does Arsène. They dont need our advice, but they do need our support and belief. After all we now have to take the great Norvern overland road to the Underworld of  Hades, the great lair of our old arch enemies them Red Devils.So hopefully somebody will bring a bell,book and candle and do the job rather than asking the brussel sprout kami for help?
The Manure breath-beasts will be smacking their lips in anticipation, and our old Puddleglums will be glumming their puddles,but thats Steww’s job to speculate on that one.And I’m sure his preview will be great as always…
Chins up me old Gooners,where there’s life there’s hope.Plenty to sing for, and we still haven’t been booted out of the CL,yet…
And if you lean in a little you can hear in the somewhere in the background the sound of Brian Moore’s commentary “and that was a great goal by Sammels” “two goals in something like 90 seconds”, a bit echoey?-yes a bit, faint?-maybe, but full of passion…and according to some, history repeats itself, and then there’s the old 5th Dimension,no not that band or album, but the dimension where all possibilities are already being played out and all things can happend…mmmm think on!
Right,I’m off to see what’s in the freezer, lucky something I hope! and oh yes,COYG!

 

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Arsenal Versus Barcelona : Unsettled Scores

Posted by steww on February 23, 2016 in All Posts

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Always a curious feeling going into a two legged knockout game. On the one hand we have the excitement of taking part in the final stages of the Champion’s League, one of the greatest club tournaments in the world. On the other hand we face the chilling prospect of trying to get past the five time winners, current holders and owners of some of the greatest footballing talents ever seen wearing the same shirts. On the other hand tonight will only be the first half, part one of two, with the only guarantee that of an undecided outcome. In short, this is the kind of night suitable only for those with three hands.

I never know what to feel about a first leg. I’m wound up like a hungry boa constrictor getting around his first wild pig of the day and yet I know from much experience that I will be left with a sense of anti climax after the final whistle regardless of the score. Just like the draw for the next round of the FA cup I cannot get myself interested in something that hasn’t happened and may not come to pass. We could be leading by two clear goals after tonight or losing by a similar amount and it will mean nothing. Nothing beyond a head start or a handicap at the opening note of the referees little instrument in the Camp Nou in just over three week’s time. Both circumstances could be dramatically altered within minutes of that note disappearing into the ether. A very odd state of affairs.

Is it important to win a home tie? Of course it is. It’s always important to win any tie. Is it the most important thing or is not conceding an away goal more significant? Is the away goal rule the biggest pile of dog doo in the history of the football rule book? Would you rather travel to Barca two one up or at nil nil? If they fail to score do they play with less panache in their home leg being all the time conscious of the damage a break away goal can do? Do we opt for Theo’s pace or Olivier’s guile and habit of scoring against the big boys? Is Danny fit enough to start? Will Alexis’ frustrating lack of form evaporate into a glorious exhibition of destruction against his old club? Do we defend as against Bayern or go for it and try to surprise them?

Today I am full of questions. Tomorrow I fear I will only have more. What can we predict with any certainty? Death and sex according to Woody Allen who went on to add “Two things that come once in my lifetime. But at least after death you’re not nauseous” he might have been talking of victory and defeat.

According to the form book we are Hull and Barca are us tonight. The switch from shoe in to also ran is a curious one for us fans and I suspect for the players. Supporters are swinging between the moodiness of an anticipated mauling and the thrill at the thought of overturning the odds and of a famous victory. We could of course defend with heroism and whatever luck is going around (apologies to Millsy for use of the forbidden concept) and stun them on the breakaway. We could get tonked.

But if we are cast in the role of Hull just remember what happened as you ate your lunch on Saturday and remember that as crazily talented as their players are they can only field eleven of them. As long as the referee doesn’t intervene to send any of our chaps off for an ill deserved early splash in the team bath then we too will have eleven guys out there and none of them will be there as a reward for winning a competition in Take A Break.

Our players are not mugs and our manager is not wet behind the ears. No one gave us a prayer before any of the historic European victories we have enjoyed down through the years and so what? Fuck the doubters and the spineless and the agenda driven anti Arsenal mainstream media; win lose or draw we’ll give it everything we’ve got and who knows we might just stagger out of the evening bloodied but unbowed. We might even give the darlings of the pundits a couple of bruises of their own to think about on the slow boat back to Catalonia.

I hate being underdogs, I hate the thought of defeat to certain teams more than any others and tonight’s opponents are among that select, foetid few. It makes me nervous not because I assume we’ll lose but because in the event of a defeat the taste will be so much more bitter. I believe we can do it, I know it will be tough. Obviously it won’t be the end of the world if we lose but it will put a dent in the momentum we’ve been trying to build since our run of unwelcome results in January. Then again it won’t mean a thing because of course tonight will end at the start of a kind of long drawn out half time.

Nothing will be settled. Nothing will be known. Nothing is certain. A curious sensation of detachment accompanies the butterflies and tension as I anticipate what may be a great European night. One nil to the Arsenal is my preferred outcome. Three nil would surely be too much to hope for and they’d rip into us with a nothing to lose attitude in the second leg. Two nil is a mischievous lead. Seemingly impregnable until you concede a goal and then the momentum shifts horribly in favour of the other lot. One nil might put them in fear of the away goal and so cause them to keep half an eye on the back door. Gives us at once something to defend and something to aim at. That’s not a prediction you understand. That’s just a positive scenario and one which I can actually imagine.

Anyway, time to stick the kettle on and rinse out my lucky Arsenal mug. Or not. I could of course wait and use it for a cuppa at any time in the next three weeks and I still would have employed it’s nebulous, recondite charms during the course of the tie. It’s an odd one to be sure. But then these two legged ties are odd aren’t they? Curious chaps. Jigsaws with missing pieces. Sausage sandwiches with no brown sauce. Story arcs with no denouement. A concerto with no final note.

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Arsenal From A Distance.

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on February 22, 2016 in All Posts

I could start by explaining how I became an Arsenal fan. But it does not really matter how you come to love the club. All that really matter is that you do.

In the past it was a simple matter, you supported your local club, your hometown team. If you lived in a large city you might get the choice of teams which may include some teams in the top division. But in reality your choice would have been made before you were even born. Your team was your father’s team, as it was his father’s. Generations lived in the same catchment area and supported the same team.

But things have changed dramatically in the Premiership era. There are many contributing factors like mobility of labour, the breakup of local communities. But more so it was the arrival of saturation coverage compliments of Sky, which changed the landscape. All of a sudden it was possible to follow a team from afar. You could watch a team and become attached, without ever seeing a live game; without visiting the area where the team is based; without even visiting the country where they play.

Now the old fans, the local fans, they were born into the club, like being born into a family. They were, and indeed are, stuck with the hand they were dealt, like it or not. Of course this fan was fairly happy no matter what his team achieved, because unless you live within walking distance of say, Anfield, your expectations were fixed around the level your local club had always been in the habit of delivering. Usually, not a lot. This was normal, you went to watch with your mates and just enjoyed the football and the camaraderie.

New fans have chosen their team. Fallen in love with it, sort of married it. But although you may be deeply passionate about your chosen “remote” club, it throws up some previously unknown problems. Likely, most new fans were attracted to their new remote club because it was achieving a high level of success. If the club becomes less successful, then the new fan might feel a sense of disappointment. They likely expected the success to continue and feel a sense of entitlement because they bought into the success. And they want it back. Pronto.

So now they are frustrated. What can they do? It is a bit late to change club, they are fans now, in love, in a committed relationship. They can’t go to the pub and have a moan up, because no one cares about their team, or at least very few do.

OK, here is my point now.

So there I am in Blackburn and I want to talk football but who do I talk too? I don’t know one other person in the area who supports Arsenal. None of my real life friends could care less. All I have is myself. And that is company I have never liked.

So I go on-line.

I start reading some blogs and choose to comment on the ones whose tone most suits my mood and opinions. I start putting the club to rights. Then I came across “A Cultured Left Foot” . Jackpot. A whole load of people who seem to have the same values as me.

Start posting. More posting. Endless posting it must have seemed to many. Then something wonderful happened. People start talking back. Some agreeing, some not so much, but relationships are being formed. Friends are being made and some adversaries too.

But I now have “mates” to banter with. To take the mickey out of ,or be taken the mickey of by. There are people to educate me on the history of the club, there are many who know much more about the game than me to help me understand the dynamics of the team, tactics and formations. And those who are so passionate that I am infected by it, even more than before.

Sadly, the tone on ACLF changed and I no longer fitted in. So along with some of its regulars I started this blog, around about the same time I took to twitter in a big way. The blog.and twitter, gives me what the old type fan always had. A community, friendships and an outlet for frustrations. Indeed, a feeling of involvement that was previously lacking.

So I suppose what I am saying is that in the modern world of remote fans, blogs and other social networking is a very important part of feeling part of something bigger. In our case that is The Arsenal in all its majesty.

P.S. This was an update on an article I wrote some four years ago.

 

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Arsenal – the chimes of lunchtime

Posted by anicoll5 on February 20, 2016 in All Posts

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Good afternoon Positive Arsenal,

A 0-0 draw against the Championship leaders was certainly not the result that I and probably any Arsenal fans were expecting, and it would have been the hardest of Hull die-hards that have predicted they would escape from the Ems with draw. But there we are, that is football, ever unpredictable. The underdogs sometimes have their day, and as often is these they earn their reward through hard work, playing to the limit of their abilities, and with a sprinkling of luck. So it was for the East Yorkshire side today. The term often used about a 0-0 draw is “stalemate”. The game was never stalemate, and into the 95th minute the result could have been ours. Entertaining, played in a good spirit. No obvious injuries and no red cards for either side. Most welcome.

Of our own lads I thought everyone put in a good effort. Six of our usual starting side rested and three more on the bench but I was impressed with what we produced. Defensively we were just about rock solid with the visitors barely able to get a strike on target from open play. The occasional free kick that gave them the chance to bring up their tall defenders we nullified early and decisively by Kosc and Per. The Flamster and Elneny worked well together, moving the ball forward and picking passes. Alex Iwobi had another confident 70 minutes, further forward and probably more influential than against Burnley though with less space and time today. Theo started well although he faded later I thought. Joel and Danny looked bright, with the latter looking surprisingly fit after his long lay off. Last week the substitutions resulted in the perfect turnaround against the resolute Leicester defence, this week the three early changes brought no such lever to overturn the visitors.

Clearly the gaping chasm of the afternoon, the abyss into which Arsenal fans on social media are flinging themselves like lemmings as I type, is lack of early afternoon activity for the scorer, that the goals ‘for’ column ended the day as blank as it started. We got so near so often, yet could not quite make that final breakthrough. The afternoon demanded was that unpredictable goal, like the screamer that started our success against Burnley from Callum Chambers. Such thunderbolts do not arrive to order.

As for Hull a very decent team performance from all their players, with the City goal-keeper yet again the cherry on the cake of their particular display. It would be a hard heart that did not acknowledge Steve Bruce’s spots of luck in the face of 90 minutes of almost unrelenting Arsenal pressure. We were Jakupović’ed today, as we had been Forster’ed and Schmeichel’ed recently. Thank God Hull did not play their first choice keeper MacGregor or we might really have found it tough to get the opener.

The sure consolation I have is that one day a goalkeeper will visit the Emirates who will have a nightmare of a display from minute 1 to minute 90. (Manuel Neuer may have fulfilled that Faustian transaction earlier in the season but I am unconvinced).

The second aspect of today’s result that appear to be causing some consternation among the Arsenal faithful is the fact that we will be playing a replay at the KC, as you do. Presumably we will be playing a similar side to that we played today, with a lot of players rested, and the opportunity for the likes of Elneny, Chambers, Gibbs, Alex Iwobi and even Theo to get some game time that otherwise they would not enjoy. Unless Steve Bruce changes his priorities the home side will also be adapted to met their other commitments in a busy schedule. I note the jumping up and down has started about the actual date of the replay! I am looking forward to the tie.  Both clubs are busy, both are vying for their respective honours. We have better players, and more of them. I enjoy watching Arsenal. Bring it on.

Enjoy your Saturday and the remainder of the weekend. DC will be our man with the biro on Tuesday.

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Arsenal Versus Hull: The Magic Number

Posted by steww on February 20, 2016 in All Posts

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All the hoo-ha which followed Man United’s defeat at the hands of a bleary eyed hungover Midtjylland who had apparently only just finished a seriously long Christmas party has caused me a little discomfort.  Firstly if United’s results get any worse and the press and their own fans turn on the players and manager any more virulently there is a genuinely present danger of me feeling a pang of sympathy for them. Only a pang mind you, nothing more.

The thing is (and I know you didn’t rock up here to read about trouble on the streets of Salford, just bear with me ) it only takes a cursory glance at the injury problems, the media witch hunt and the awful fair weather supporters turning on their own for all sorts of bells to ring in the head of any Arsenal supporter. None of the responses I saw to their Thursday night defeat cut them any slack at all and before you start spitting on your monitor and yelling “But look at what they spent look at the money they’ve wasted” just remember what we have said to one another, year on year.

As our title hopes have been crushed by one insane injury blight after another, with multiple injuries in the same position, with players rushed back from injury replacing the newly injured thereby ensuring no continuity – what did we say? We said no club, no matter how rich nor how much they spend could succeed with those kind of problems and Man United are simply proving us right.

However, here is the real glowing flame of truth which flared up amidst the bonfire of United’s, and of course Chelseas’s, seasons. When we said no one could hope to sustain any sort of pressure for a top four finish, Champion’s League progression and a few decent cup runs, what we really meant was no one not managed by Arsène Wenger. If ever there was proof of the man’s abiding genius it is laid bare for all to see – super rich clubs with sought after world famous managers and top players simply cannot sustain their seat at the top table when faced with a huge drop in form or a run of bad injuries. Not in the way Arsène has done, season after season.

Honestly, we should all fall on our knees and be thankful for the great man and his enduring presence every single match day morning.

I raised my Arsenal mug to him this morning, this FA Cup Saturday morning I should say. A competition in which Arsène has, since, 16th February 2013, shown a marked reluctance to be beaten. The Beeb put this cute little video together covering all the things that have happened since last Arsenal lost an FA Cup tie – which is nice. Now all they need to do is arrange the live impaling and beheading of Danny Murphy on MOTD and they will have taken at least the first small steps towards rehabilitating themselves.

It’s an odd feeling when your team begins to enjoy a long run of success. Over the years of course we have enjoyed many such periods, some of them truly historic. On the one hand you approach matches with a certain swagger, a confident belief in the unlikelihood of defeat. On the other hand there is a feeling that the clock is ticking and just as all good things are, by popular consent, doomed to come to an end, so one can’t help wondering how far off is that inevitable day.

I start each FA Cup morning thinking, with crossed fingers clutching my lucky heather, ‘just one more day, just one more, I’ve not had enough of this yet’. I’m not dreaming of a third final (honestly, I’m not), that’s too far off in the distance, just one win at a time will suit me fine.

Hull have featured in each of our cup winning seasons and now they’re back again hoping this third time will be the charm. We shan’t be seeing Akpom or Hayden lining up against the side they hope one day to play for which is a shame for them but good for us as they’re both fine players.

The whole loan thing is interesting. Since Coquelin’s return and sensational impact on the first team the loanees no longer assume that their moves are the first step on the road out of the door. It may well prove to be just that for many players, but doesn’t have to be. What a great incentive young Francis’ fairytale must be to others languishing in one temporary placement after another.

I wonder if he’ll feature today? Something suggests maybe not as he is still coming back from injury, but honestly, the FA Cup line up is harder to predict than the standard first team so I’m not going to waste your time with that. Fringe players get a game, the odd youngster will too, and a few seeking to improve their fitness. However this is an important competition and there needs to be a core of first choice players or the lack of cohesion will cost us dearly.

I wonder if the tightness of the title race and the looming spectre of Barca might have put this lunchtime fixture into the shadows for some people. If so I heartily suggest they have a close friend squirt something noxious and cold into an orifice of their choosing. This is our FA cup people, this is as much worth fighting for this year as it was the last and the one before that. No team will roll over and make it easy for us, everyone wants to beat the holders (oh and please don’t use the word ‘champions’ in my presence. The champions are the champions the cup holders are the holders, end of story) and we have something to defend and something magical to aim for.

I can clearly recall the last time we made it to three consecutive finals and it is a wonderful achievement and one we will not repeat without everyone gets behind the team. The crowd in the Leicester City game were so important not only in hounding a referee so awful that even Andy couldn’t bear to mention him in his match review, but mainly in hauling the team over the line. I trust if you are there in person today that you can do the same again. If not, well, scream at the telly, shout at your monitor and annoy the neighbours. It might frighten the dog, the team won’t know but hey – it can’t do any harm can it?

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