123 Comments

Arsenal Versus Burnley: Arsène Versus The Reptiles

Like many of us I was deeply saddened to wake yesterday to the news of the death of Richie Benaud. Sport lost another of the good guys and in the world of sports media that leaves a very short list indeed. Among the tributes being paid many people, myself included, shared Richie’s tips for commentators, which could translate as guidelines for life in general. As I looked down the list so many pearls jumped out all of which are routinely ignored by the swine who usually pollute the airwaves during a football match. ‘Avoid clichés and banalities’ is probably the most often transgressed and ‘The Titanic was a tragedy the Ethiopian drought a disaster, and neither bears any relation to a dropped catch’ is a lesson in the dangers of of being sucked into melodramatic hyperbole which the likes of Savage and Pearce probably haven’t the wit to even understand.

My personal favourite however, was the most succinct of them all. ‘Never ask a statement’. I couldn’t help thinking of this perfect and obvious piece of journalistic advice as I watched a repeat of Arsène and his weekly duel with the reptiles. Count how many times they fall foul of the statement as question mistake and it is genuinely depressing how Mr Benaud’s wisdom has been entirely ignored by these odious people. I got to wondering why they do it quite so often. Why make a long rambling statement expressing nothing more than their own opinion and then end either by encouraging Arsène to agree with them or not even bothering to ask a question at all? If I were in the manager’s position I simply wouldn’t answer until they actually asked me something.

But again I wondered why. They can’t all just be stupid. Owen and Savage aside you need a modicum of intelligence to get into the industry in first place, surely. Then it dawned on me. They’re not really asking anything are they? They are simply trying to write the headline in advance. They have no interest in Arsène’s ideas or opinions. One of the single most intelligent and fascinating men in the history of this or any other sport and they don’t even want to know what he thinks. When they say something like ‘Hector Bellerin has been in great form this season, it looks like you have another fine young player on your hands, but you must fear that one day he might want to return to his home country, perhaps following Cesc Fabregas in returning to Barcelona’ all they are waiting for is any hint of a ‘yes’ in Arsène’s response so they can publish ‘Wenger Dreads Barca Exodus’ with the subheading of ‘Arsenal boss says Bellerin could follow in Cesc’s footseps’ or ‘Want Away Catalan Kid Eyes Camp Nou Return’ and then print some guff about his blood cells or some such twaddle. I believe this is why Arsène always begins answers to these minefield questions with the word ‘look’. It avoids a positive or a negative and buys him the second he needs to marshal a politician’s answer. Which is why press conferences are such a waste of time. Like political interviews they are merely jousts between journalists desperate for a slip and interviewees desperate to say as little as possible.

So we didn’t really learn anything from Arsène about today’s opponents nor today’s game. Nothing we didn’t know already. Burnley’s home form is better than their away from, their latter season form is better than their early season form and they are fighting for their lives in the relegation zone. They were unlucky not to beat Spurs in their last game, have recently beaten Man City and drawn with Chelsea so anyone out there who believes this is a simple guaranteed three points for Arsenal needs their head read. You won’t be surprised to hear me say that I think we can win and that we ought to win, it should go without saying that we need to win. While the opposition has admirable qualities and has achieved the creditable results mentioned above we have more than a few advantages ourselves. For one the greatest manager in world football, the most experienced in guiding his team through the rocky road of a season’s end. For another a collection of truly astonishing footballing talent epitomised by the peerless Mesut Özil. With the likes of Jack Wilshere coming back into contention the side will only be stronger still and at long last the manager has genuine options throughout the team.

Having said that will he change a winning line up? He might just do that. He is above all a master tactician, more capable than his peers at changing the balance of the side so that the innate qualities of the players he chooses alters the way in which the team performs. That is his real genius. He doesn’t just ask the same players to play in a different way as many lesser coaches will. He drops one player who posses one set of qualities and picks replacement possessed of a subtly different style. Bellerin for Chambers, say, or Gibbs for Monreal. Thus the way the team plays alters because you have a quicker or taller or more attack minded player in the position. The style of play, the manager’s philosophy remains unchanged but the emphasis alters. We might need a more offensive, faster or more tricksy right side with a more solid left side. Or we could be facing a goalkeeper with an identified weakness so we might need players adept at exploiting that weakness. How Blackburn must rue shooting low to Mignolet’s left every time. Did they learn nothing from us? Perhaps the midfielder Arsène wishes to play on the left covers his fullback better than the one he chose the previous week and so he picks the fullback best suited to the changes that implies. There seems to me much more going on than just not changing a winning side or simply picking the players we like best or who you and I might think are in the best form.

I know nothing about Burnley’s strengths or weaknesses but you can bet the man who matters does and whichever team he selects will be the one he believes is best able to counter and exploit those qualities and frailties. It would be fascinating to hear his thoughts on these kind of subjects but sadly he won’t be asked a proper question any time soon. We can only dream of a world wherein the weekly presser features Arsène and somebody of Richie Benaud’s capacity sitting in pleasant surroundings and discussing in patient depth the art of football management. Instead of which we have something far more closely resembling Cantona’s flock of screeching gulls diving and screaming hoping for a bite of something they can shit out onto the pages of their sordid, demeaning rags.

82 Comments

Sell Wilshere And Buy ……….

Twitter is basically a forum for idle gossip, unsubstantiated speculation and general nonsense. I spend a lot of time on there doing just those things and make no apologies for it. Its fun. it gives me an idea of what people think, expect and how little thought many people put into forming their opinions.

Yesterday there was much talk about who might be sold, to whom, and why.

Three names mentioned were those of Theo, Jack and Wojciech. So I am going to give my tuppence worth here.

Theo

Theo isn’t getting first team starts now. That much we know.

Why ?

That we certainly don’t know.

Some people are quick to point out that its because of us now having better players in his position.

Do we?

We have players with different skill-sets, but does that make them better? They have to be better for the team to constitute being “better” . Teams are about balance.Theo offers balance. He brings skills to the table that others don’t. He is faster than the others and he seems to me a better finisher than them.

So do we ignore what is good about him and just look at the negatives?

And what are the negatives anyway?

The old “he doesn’t track back” chestnut ? Perhaps ? That is/might be a weakness. But every player has those.

Does Theo have to start every game ? Have people not been crying out for years that we should start players that suit the game? Well I believe there will be occasions that Theo is perfectly suited to the circumstances.

His contract situation might be a consideration for the club, so he might be sold.But don’t tell me there is a better player with his particular skill set.

Jack

The talk is that City are sniffing around him !

Well why wouldn’t they ?

He is, by some margin, the best English midfielder . He is 23 years old, and only because of injuries, is behind in his development.

His talent is staggering.

His spirit is just what we love..

Right now I feel there are 2 or 3 positions Jack can play in and do a very good job, the problem is there are specialists in those positions that at this moment are better than him in those positions. I’m not sure though that any of them could be as good in as many positions. With time, he could easily settle into what is his best position and go on to be truly world class.

So why sell him ?

Why even consider selling him ?

I don’t believe Arsene will or should.

Wojciech

Currently our second choice goalkeeper. Also currently the holder of the Golden Glove award jointly with Cech.

Cech – the keeper who many see as his replacement,

32 year old Cech, who had arguably a better defence in front of him .

Wojciech can improve, can Cech ?

Arsenal are now in a position that simply because a player is not an automatic first choice, it doesn’t mean thay are not very good and valuable players. There is a 25 man squad, they all can’t start.

Theo had us over a barrel for his last contract, but lets not forget, he did “sign da ting”. He did. He is a lovely young man that has been with us almost 10 years. Who doesn’t remember him being stretchered of against Spurs and holding in up two fingers in one hand and a 0 in the other, without smiling ?

Jack and Wojciech are massive Arsenal fans, I have invested emotionally in them. I like them. I want them to succeed.

I am not suggesting that loyalty and emotional attachment should be the overriding factor in any decision making process Arsene and the club make, but I am saying it should be a consideration.

If your thirst for success blinds you to a value like loyalty, then its a sorry state you are in.

Surly seeing the players we have invested in, both financially and emotionally.succeed at Arsenal is part  supporting ?

If its not. it should be.

Simples.

A

130 Comments

Arsene’s Way

I woke this morning fully intending to pen an article about where the spanking of Liverpool leaves us in terms of this season and more pointedly, going forward into next season.

Then I read an article written by Tim Stillman for Goonersphere, and I thought to my self “why bother ? “.No matter what I write it will be totally insignificant on a day that this has been published.

So here it is  

I hope Tim and the site don’t object .

133 Comments

Arsenal Versus Liverpool: Real Football Returns

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I feel, even more than is usual after an international break, like something small and furry testing the warming air with twitching whiskers after a particularly inhospitable winter. That is not to say that the pointless, tedious, and above all dire international matches were any worse than usual. On the contrary they were every bit as third rate as they always are and on the few occasions I attempted to pass a little time watching one I ended up switching off long before the half time oranges were sliced. The reason this past fortnight has limped along on leaden feet has as much to do with a stinking head cold as the lack of any palliative Arsenal action, but as I sniffed and coughed and crunched paracetamol there was another thorn thrust deep into my abdominal external oblique. The moronic drone of the transfer tattle started up almost the moment the real football stopped.

I won’t dignify any of the baseless gibberish by discussing it here. Suffice to say I was appalled by the way some of my twitter contacts and fellow Positively Arsenal regulars joined in with the nonsense. Is not the ruination of every summer enough for you people? Why pollute decent conversation by stooping to this level? Why debase yourself by giving credence to the wholly mischievous, entirely invented tales of what is going to transpire once the season is ended? Even if you only join in to say I shan’t hate player x until he actually leaves, or I’ll support player y as long as he wears the shirt, that is still a step too far. Can’t you see the reasons behind the fantasy transfer speculation? Isn’t it so blatantly obvious to you? This is another attempt to distract from the real battles being fought on the pitch, to turn supporters away from the excitement of the seasons end and the team’s tilt at glory. This is another weapon in the armoury of those who despise our club which they use to divide and rule, to separate us from the players and cause us either to cast longing glances at those wearing the colours of other teams or worse to plant seeds of doubt against the loyalty of our own. I despise those who propagate this filth and despair of every one of you who enters into such a devil’s bargain with them.

Now, I trust that issue has been put to bed once and for all, so let us glance forward towards today’s fixture. Not too far forward as it happens given that we face the mixed blessing of a lunchtime kick off. I say mixed because while I know many people are superstitious of these games they do come with certain fringe benefits. For one thing, should we win we get to lay down a marker and say to the rest of the teams in the scrap there’s the bar now see if you can jump it. Better to have the result in the bag than to go into our game under pressure from an earlier scoreline. The other advantage is that we get the rest of the weekend off. A late Sunday afternoon kick off would leave us pacing up and down, distracted from Friday evening onwards, unable to concentrate, preoccupied, distant from family and friends. Once this early kick off is out of the way we can actually function like normal human beings and pay full attention to our partners on that all important trip to B&Q.

The question is, will we be whistling through the grass seed or scowling in the screwdrivers? I am shy of making predictions, they seem a little pointless and I’m patient enough to wait and allow events to unfold but I’m quite happy to share a couple of wild guesses. I’m guessing for instance that Liverpool, although desperate not to lose will not set out to defend against us. Under Brendan Rodgers they have often displayed a proactive, gung-ho approach and have, on a notable occasion not that long ago, profited from coming at us, guns blazing, straight out of the blocks. I think they’ll treat today as a cup final, an all or nothing, caution to the wind affair. If so it’ll be a hell of a game.

I alluded to last season’s encounter at Anfield in the previous paragraph and while we’re on that subject I’d like to set straight another piece of wayward thinking. There have been a number of people suggesting that today is about revenge for the home team. That in some way we have an unpaid bill hanging over us from last year and this game will be the time of reckoning. Strange how distorted and fickle memory can be, the tricks it can play. How exactly did we come up short against Liverpool last season, pray tell? Unless I have been misinformed we beat them at the Emirates, they beat us at Anfield which by any calculation would have left us even-stevens. At least it would have had we not then also taken their little ball from the sack for the sixth round of the FA Cup. I make that played three won two. We don’t owe anybody anything.

The simple fact is that until their last match they were the in form team in the premier league, now they are joint second with Man United, and our record over the last six matches is better than anybody else’s. The other interesting statistic is that they have the best away form over the last six and we have the best home form. It is set up to be a real humdinger. Two teams that love to attack both needing a win, both with one eye on an FA Cup semi final and both wondering if this might be the dress rehearsal for their fourth climactic Wembley meeting in that venerable competition. I think that on their day they keep the ball and move it around as well as anyone and I think that on our day we do too. It could be a game of tight margins. Which players are best able to shake off the dust from the dreaded international death march, which side benefits from the hapless and often surreal decisions of one of the most raggedly unpredictable referees ever to blight the game. I just hope that for once the side playing the best football, and creating the most chances comes out on top and whatever the result today I hope that Man United lose their remaining fixtures so that both sides can finish in the top four.

Reading back over my opening remarks I wonder if the influenza which has so cruelly afflicted my already weak and ageing mind might have made me a little more grumpy than is usually the case. Of course if you wish to to be led by the nose by scurrilous journalists and do as they tell you rather than have your own thoughts and ideas then by all means talk about prospective transfers, it is, after all, a free country. I don’t need to read it and I don’t need to join in, do I? So I apologise unreservedly if my remarks have offended those of you who think media inventions, gossip and lies are so worthy of discussion. Now where is the Vicks, and more to the point who’s going to rub some onto my chest?

20 Comments

Fit Players And Thick Experts

Last season, before Arsenal were devastated by injuries, they we top of the league and looked to be the best team.

Theo, the pace in the team was crocked , AOC had been out for the first half of the season and we were left with Gnabry .The super star of the season, Aaron Ramsey got injured and missed 3 months ,then Ozil went out also. We now know Koscielny was playing though conic tendinitis and several other players also suffered the “normal” knocks and injuries.The team wasn’t the same, and results showed just that. A disappointing end to the campaign brightened by us winning the FA cup.

Lets be fair though. for two thirds of the season we had the hope of winning the league. It was a real title contention.

Sadly, this season started with us being absolutely devastated by injuries. Long term injuries to Giroud, Ozil, Ramsey, Arteta. Debuchy, Theo and Koscielny saw us fall far enough behind Chelsea to mean the hopes of a title challenge was realistically over by October.

Despite the addition of players. that once bedded in.would prove major upgrades to the first team, this was hugely disappointing.

However. since the return of these key long term injuries we have accumulated more points than any other team. Also we have progressed to the semi final of the FA cup.

So what does this tell us?

Well I don’t know what you conclude from this, but I take it that with a squad that includes most of our most important players we take more points than any other team. That sort of makes us at least as good as anyone else.

Now, I know detractors will say that injuries are part of the game, and they are. but no other team could cope with this volume and the of length of injuries to as many key players .

As far as I can see, when Arsene has the players that he has signed and nurtured available he cant pick a team that wins more than others in a style that is more pleasing on the eye than others, with tactics that work because the players are good enough to execute them.

I mean who would have thought that the best players, play the best football and win more often?

For years I have been reading blogs from laymen who spout absolute bollocks about tactics and formations while pointing out how inept Arsene is in these areas. But we see time and again, Arsene using different formations and tactics, all of which work when the best players in the squad play and execute them.

Of the top of my head, here is a list of players that have been labeled “not good enough for Arsenal” by these expert bloggers, tweeters and worst of all, pretentious Podcasters.- Giroud. , Welbeck, Koscielny, Walcott, Gibbs. Monreal, Mertesacker, Cazorla, Ramsey, Arteta, Wilshere, Famini, Rosicky, Diaby, Ozil, Coquelin, Chambers and Szczesny !

I shit you not. I have argued with people and seen so called knowable fans have a go at each and every one of these players.

Given that our squad cost a fraction of MCFC, MUFC and Chelsea, yet when we have a reasonable amount of fit players, gather more points than them, surely it time to accept that our manager is simply better than theirs?

So my advice is understand you are nothing more than a layman fan, let the experts do their jobs, and support the fecking team.

You might even enjoy watching football that way !

18 Comments

Football Teaches Life.

A guest post from Yido6061

It’s because of football that I know what the capital of Cameroon is. Football has also taught me to make quick mental calculations when working out the possible permutations for final group standings in World Cups.

I also understand how football can be hijacked to serve the purposes of totalitarian propaganda, how it can assimilate all manner of scientific breakthroughs to enrich it as a spectacle and how it can rival any form of dance when it is executed with exquisite precision. In short, football has educated me in ways that transcend the narrow parameters of the pitch or the screen.

It’s because of football that my understanding of the world is a little better.Last Friday saw me teach my final lesson. After seven years, hundreds of essays marked and thousands of lessons, my teaching career came down to one final hour with my Year 11 class. Tears were shed. The girls bought me a football as a parting gift and signed it, making me feel as though I’d scored a hat-trick against Real Madrid at the Bernabeu. We laughed, took silly selfies and before I knew it, it was over with a new life beckoning for my family and me.

The last few days have allowed me to take stock of what exactly teaching meant to me. I’ve realised, although it may have always been obvious, that being a teacher was in many ways like being a football manager. Well, it was in my mind anyway. Perhaps I just suffer from delusions of Jose; stubbled up as I was and suited to the hilt with self-assurance and a repertoire of tics and tricks that I performed on a daily basis

Like a football manager, a teacher needs to be aware of the personalities under his/her tutelage. Sometimes, you’re a bit like Harry Redknapp, metaphorically wrapping your arms around students, talking them up, making them feel important. Other times, you run a classroom with the iron discipline and meticulous attention to detail of an Otto Rehhagel, squeezing every last ounce of potential out of kids that achieve above and beyond the sum of their parts.

It’s an instinctive profession. You never know how it can turn out, whether the tactics you’ve sat up half the night preparing on a Powerpoint presentation will come off. Sometimes they do, other times they don’t. The very best days can make you feel as imperious as Pep Guardiola but the profession can so easily reduce you to the depths of being a spittle-spewing Barry Fry caricature.

To extend the metaphor even further (I’ve done this so often in the classroom over the years that the device is used more out of a force of habit than as a literary conceit), the teacher/manager is always under the scrutiny of those who do not inhabit his/her working environment. New directives, fads, buzzwords are picked up by those dishing out the paycheques and one is forced to perform monkey acts in order to avoid being judged inadequate or facing the sack.

For every appointment of a Director of Football by a clueless board seeking instant fixes and success, see also the perennial chopping and changing of how teachers are graded by those thinking up policies in glass think tanks. In that respect, is Sepp Blatter so different from Michael Gove? Nevertheless and despite of the interference of those with their own craven agendas, football and education in their purest forms always remain the same.

As with anything dreamt up by human beings, they’re about us trying to make sense of what this whole existence thing is really all about. , football and teaching intertwined perfectly for me when I had to deliver one of those interminable PSHE lessons to a group of disaffected Year 8 boys. The outline of the lesson was to lead a discussion on the importance of teamwork using business-inspired team-building games as the framework. I didn’t do that. I showed Maradona’s second against England in 1986 and immediately got the boys to compare it to Argentina’s twenty-six pass masterpiece twenty years later. I then asked them to tell me all the skills required by every player in each position on a football pitch, every boy came out of the lesson engaged and energised. Ofsted would call it “progress”. And the best part? Those same boys kicked a ball about at break, instinctively reducing the game back to its simplicity having just spent an hour getting all philosophical and the like. Some of it forgotten, some of it retained.

Don’t know if I did any good as a teacher. I don’t know if I influenced any lives to a dramatic degree. Those results aren’t tangible in that way for teachers. Well, not for me anyway. I was never much interested in GCSE results. I just wanted them to come way from my lessons having learnt something they didn’t know an hour before and hopefully might remember it in later life. And to have laughed. Always to have laughed.

In the same way, I’m not sure what, if anything, watching and writing about football so often has achieved other than a sense of fueling personal vanity, challenge and pride. There are people out there writing proper, serious stuff. About wars and housing booms and Chris and Gwyneth. But I do know that in a strange way, football made me a better teacher. I always told my students to do something they really loved, that they enjoyed. So, with that in mind, I have. We have. In less than three weeks I will be leaving these shores for a year in New Zealand, I’ve enjoyed the banter from time to time I will look in on this fantastic very well put together football blog just a shame it based around the boys from Woolwich,

26 Comments

Serendipity

A guest post from @foreverheady

Serendipity. Just about my favourite word, meaning, as it does, a happy accident or a chance discovery. It was serendipity that led me to The Arsenal back in 1997. I am aware as I write this that it disqualifies me from ever being regarded as a proper fan, although I shan’t lose too much sleep about that. My first team was Portsmouth, being the closest side geographically to where I grew up, and I followed them with the enthusiasm that only a boy can manage. My parents were kind, taking me to a few matches, including one memorable birthday treat, a midweek match under lights against Hull that led to a resounding 4-0 home defeat. I still recall the smarting embarrassment of explaining to the two carefully chosen friends I was allowed to take that we were normally much better than that, though of course in my heart of hearts I knew that that was about our level. I suppose enduring an away League Cup defeat to South Coast rivals, Brighton and Hove Albion, then a whole division beneath Pompey, had already taught me not to rely too heavily on sporting idols. We went posh in the stands then, but my true ambition was always to be behind the goal at the Fratton End. John Milkins was my brilcreemed hero, and I remember every detail of his pre-match routine when I finally strutted my stuff on the terraces: it is hard to imagine Szczesny removing his false teeth and placing them with loving care in the little bag that held cap and gloves before acknowledging his fans with gap-toothed grin, but no doubt whatever he does will be etched firmly in the memory of today’s urchins.

In my late teens I moved along the coast to Brighton, and unforgivably they began to supplant Pompey in my affections, largely because I was able to go and see them fairly regularly. Some of my friends got to know a couple of the players and they would leave tickets on the gate for us. It was my first real experience of supporting a successful team, and my memory is of seeing them go from Third to First Division in successive seasons, mainly due to the trickery of Peter Ward: exciting times, and it was down to The Seagulls that I first went to Highbury, for the FA Cup semi-final against Sheffield Wednesday, a thirty yard screamer from dead-ball specialist Jimmy Case seeing Brighton to Wembley for the first, and perhaps only, time. I drifted away a bit after that, leaving my old life behind.  I moved close to Reading and a new career took over, while football itself lost much of its glamour: Heysel, Hillsborough and England’s reputation for thuggery didn’t do much for its image, and if I remember rightly the BBC even dropped Match of the Day. There didn’t seem much incentive to stay in touch, and the highs and lows of the Turf began to take the place of Football, especially as for geographical reasons I no longer really had a team to support and there wasn’t much to watch on TV in the late 80s and early 90s.

But in February 1997, Jim, a good mate and diehard Palace fan, was keen to go and watch the Fifth Round Cup-tie with another friend, subsequently Best Man at my wedding, who followed The Arsenal. I tagged along and high up in the Clock End saw possibly the worst and most boring game I had ever seen. 0-0 but terrible though it was it was good to be back at the football and I realised how much I had missed it all. As luck would have it the replay was on the TV the following week, and I began to recognise some of the players. They still weren’t desperately convincing, although they won the tie, and points adrift in the League and surely destined to progress not much further in the cup, they seemed a reasonable side to pledge my allegiance to. My father had supported The Arsenal, my best friend did and it seemed appropriate for me to do so. I wanted to be able to say I had a team again, and could surely never be accused of glory hunting for siding with such a seemingly dull side managed by such a strange and owlish man. That the league form immediately turned round, that they chased down United and went on to win the Double was the stuff of fantasy: the tenner on Overmars to score the first goal at Wembley the icing on a rich and unexpected cake. In hindsight it wasn’t a bad time to start following The Arsenal. Serendipity indeed.

But despite the astonishing success that followed on from that great season, I couldn’t really claim to be a proper fan. I looked for the results of course, enjoyed the highlights on TV, basked in the vicarious glow of the side’s success, but I wasn’t with them all the way. There was too much of my own career still to do to spend any time worrying about the careers of strangers, too much of my own life to live to need to live through the life of others. And – and this makes me feel uncomfortable for what it reveals about me – there was also a slight discomfort about supporting such an invincible team, for what is the point of following a side if they are never going to lose? In my formative years I’d regularly been let down by Harry Harris, Ray Pointer, Nicky Jennings: what right had I to go through a season unbeaten? I might as well have been a United or Liverpool fan, a plastic twat in the eyes of many, and maybe myself too.

And that is how it stayed for a good while, through the good seasons, through the move from Highbury, through the disappointments, which while not massive on a global scale, were, none the less, disappointing. I enjoyed supporting The Arsenal, but it was all fairly lukewarm until my boy Daniel started to take an interest four seasons ago, and that – well, that changed everything. Although we didn’t know it at the time it was van Persie’s last season, and he was Daniel’s first hero. I didn’t know how to break it to him that he was leaving, and I didn’t expect him to stay loyal, but despite constant bullying from a United fan, he remained committed to the cause, and suddenly for me there was a real point to supporting the club. Posters went up on bedroom walls, kits were bought, the first family trip to The Emirates arranged. And perhaps crucially for me there was a vulnerability about the team that made supporting them all the more important. Of course they lost to Bradford, of course they got knocked out by Blackburn, of course the new signings took time to settle in – but these reversals made the triumphs all the more worthwhile, and when the team clicked and played the kind of football that only a Wenger team can play, then I really knew I was following by far the greatest team the world had ever seen. Like many dads who have bought their child a trainset too early, The Arsenal took me over completely. I discovered football websites and the whole paraphernalia of social media, and gradually began to find like-minded souls from around the world with whom I could share my hopes and fears. I also began to discover bias, treachery, propaganda and disinformation, which at first dismayed but then, far from annoying me, merely fuelled what was by now becoming a full blown obsession. I began to feel personally responsible for my team.

It would be ridiculous to say that The Arsenal has taken over my life, for there is far too much going on for that to be the case. Both of my children have their own sport to play, and I get to spend plenty of time ferrying them from this pitch to that one. If Netball tournaments get arranged for Cup-final day, then Netball takes priority, if midweek matches coincide with cricket nets, then the cricket comes first. It has to be like that. My job gets irritatingly in the way, and my wife’s career also takes some juggling, so all in all I ought to be able to say that I am not totally dependent on The Arsenal to give meaning to my days. Nevertheless, there are few moments where I am not agonising over the latest result or looking forward to the next match with that familiar and awful mixture of hope and fear. I would love to be able to go to more matches, and maybe in a few years’ time that will be easier to do, but for now I feel fortunate to be able to watch so many games on the TV, to read and write so much about the club, and to have met, either virtually or in real-life, so many wonderful fellow travellers on the Sunshine Bus. To some I may not be a proper fan, but in my heart of hearts I know that very few care as much about The Arsenal as I do. That it took a nil-all home draw to put me on the right track merely confirms that the condition is now probably terminal.

196 Comments

Hey, We Won At Newcastle.

Arsenal won a great game of football yesterday.

Of course if you read twitter this might come as a shock to you. Apparently they didn’t do it with the assurance and panache that many uber fans demand. Clearly we should dominate the game from start to finish and not let the opponents have a kick of the ball in their own back yard.

The total lack of understanding that these halfwits on twitter display is a never ending frustration to me.

In the first half we were dominant and created many opportunities, scoring twice without reply. We were not at our scintillating best, for sure, but would you expect that ? It was our fourth game in 14 days and our 3rd away game in that period. And  we won them all.

The game changed early in the second half when the hosts scored a goal with the help of some good play on their part and some sloppy play on ours.

What happens in these circumstances is the home crowd go berserk, the home team find an extra yard and start playing with freedom and flair. Why? Because that is how it works. They would have felt the game was lost, All of a sudden they are back in it. Tails are up, caution thrown to the wind. They are the home team after all. They are entitled to have a go .

The problem yesterday was that we were unable to take back control. The tanks were empty. So………. we had to hang on and defend.

Its almost like Arsenal are the only team that are not credited for being resolute in defence.Other teams win while not at their best and are hailed as great teams. Arsenal do it and its the players being crap and the manager being unable to motivate them. Double standards much !

I watched that game. What I saw was a home team putting in a fantastic performance in the second half against a very leggy opponent.

Its was a great 3 points and under the circumstances, a good performance.

I

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Arsenal In Newcastle – Stiffen The Sinews

Once more unto the international break dear friends, once more

We have been riding an undulating course of late. The humdrum of league encounters has been punctuated by the lofty heights of all or nothing cup competitions and then it’s back down again to the daily grind. Except of course that the daily grind for us represents jousting with the very best for the biggest prizes of all. Not that the main prize is actually in reach you understand. To be honest it isn’t even in view yet. There is a veritable forest of ifs to negotiate before we even snatch a glance. If we can overtake the blue Mancunians, if Chelsea lose their game in hand and if we go on to beat Chelsea then there may just be the smallest hint of a glimpse of a prize. Oh, and all of this is predicated on us first taking maximum points from an away trip to Newcastle, from Liverpool and from Burnley. You can see why Arsène is a confirmed celebrant at the Church Of One Game At A Time, can’t you?

We supporters, free from the constraints which necessity places on those at the heart of the drama, can dream big and wonder if the seemingly impossible might become true. We did this on Tuesday didn’t we? And didn’t that dreaming make for a thrilling evening of football? Winning the league represents a far more outlandish scenario than that which we hoped to see in Monaco but a win at St James Park today will at least keep the infinitesimally small flame alight for another week.

It would be nice to have some spark no matter how tiny its source to warm us during the evil chill of the dreaded international break. I despise the interruption as I’m sure you do. The only good thing one can say for it is that it gives our injured players a little more time to recover without missing games. I hate it because, like an advertisement in the middle of a tense drama or an unwelcome knock on the bathroom door it breaks one’s concentration, disrupts the flow. More than this though the internationals ruin the pattern, the run of energy and momentum which has built over the preceding weeks of league football. Chelsea have stuttered. Six points dropped in their last six games. Manchester City have stumbled, eight points dropped. Arsenal and Liverpool have powered forward winning their last five and dropping only three and two respectively in their last six. After this weekend all of that will be as nought. The teams will return after the nonsensical irrelevance of the international sideshow, and like actors retaking the stage following an air raid warning will try in vain to pick up their lines, to remember where they were stood before the sirens cleared the theatre. The actor may in fact recall his script but the particular energy of the moment can never be recaptured.

Each international break is a small death and whatever is resurrected can never be the same as that which has passed. Be that as it may. Drop points today and none of that will matter. I don’t expect us to give Newcastle the room to prosper this afternoon. I expect us to apply a similar choke hold as that with which we so expertly stifled and suffocated Monaco. This was the single most pleasing aspect of our superb performance on Tuesday. The way the players were able to attack with fluency and invention and yet simultaneously envelop the opposition in a blanket of defensive discipline; harrying defenders, closing midfielders and throttling the forwards. If the players can raise themselves from their understandable disappointment to achieve similar heights in the North East today they ought to give their hosts an uncomfortable afternoon. I wonder if they can? In truth they should take an awful lot of encouragement from the way they played in the Principality. Far from being discomfited they should reflect on a masterful display of team work and individual brilliance. They missed out on the result by a tiny fraction but they showed how good a footballing team they can be and that may prove more important in the long run.

What of our opponents? Well, like us, they have their own idiot brigade who thought they could help their team by harassing the manager. This is a fascinating idea which I’m sure must delight any passing anthropologists. The suggestion that publicly abusing the very person responsible for engineering the success of your team will somehow benefit the players he has to inspire. That denigrating achievement and applauding defeat can in some way lead to better things is the work of an intelligence so far beyond the reach of mine that I am speechless to pass judgement upon it. Unlike the sad, bewildered minority of our own supporters who follow a similar logic, the Newcastle fifth columnists got their wish. As the champagne bubbles went flat in the aftermath of New Years Eve celebrations and twenty fourteen gave way to twenty fifteen, Alan Pardew returned to Crystal Palace leaving the fog of war on the Tyne far behind, and frankly, who can blame him? Before he took the plane south Newcastle had enjoyed a mixed bag of results. They were rampant in October and November beating, among others, Spurs, Man City, Liverpool and Chelsea in a run which was cruelly brought to an abrupt halt at the Emirates when we demolished them in a four one rout.

With Mertesacker hitting the underside of the bar and Wellbeck’s brilliant falling chipped goal being wrongly disallowed the scoreline actually flattered Newcastle. Giroud scored two fine goals that day underlining yet again to all but the blind or the stupid just how valuable he is to us. Honestly if you even entertain those who try to draw you into a debate as to whether Olivier Giroud is good enough for Arsenal you need to have a long hard look at yourself. If he never scored another goal for us, the rest of his game is so good, so important to the way we play that he would still merit a place in our starting line up. It isn’t just Larry’s form which should give us heart. With Aaron coming back to his best and Mesut and Santi in their pomp the Arsenal scythe looks sharp as the season ripens and the final harvest approaches.

While the superstars in the squad are showered in rightful praise there are three other players who have been punching well above their weight. Hector, Nacho and Francis are all wrongly denigrated as respectively, merely quick, dull and tough. Each player has, however, far more to his game than these lazy stereotypes. Hector Bellerin is possessed of some crazy ball skills and is, I believe, playing well within himself at the moment, and understandably so. To be catapulted from the youth team to the Champions League would leave anyone a little overawed but when this boy shows what he is capable of I think he’ll be running rings around premier league defenders for fun. Nacho Monreal is a far better footballer than people give him credit for. I don’t see him showing the same flashes of genius of which Hector is capable but his reading of the game, position, pace and passing out of trouble when allied to his willingness and versatility have seen him take full advantage of Gibbs’ carefully managed recovery.

Which brings me to Francis Coquelin. Now I know that people hated Arteta with a slavering insanity akin to a fish hating water. Consequently anyone who wasn’t Arteta had, they felt, to be applauded. But the same people had spent so long telling us that we needed a big, tough, hard tackling defensive minded player that to save face they are now forced to pretend that Coquelin is just that type of player. They therefore ignore his range of passing. They ignore his wonderful snake like twisting to guard possession while looking for a pass. They ignore the sublime touch and skill with which he brings the ball under control and they ignore his wonderful slight of foot when going past the opposition. I think he has the potential to become a complete player. My message to these fools is that just because you are too stupid to see what a brilliant footballer Mikel Arteta is doesn’t mean you have to close your eyes while watching his understudy. If Coquelin can learn to read the game like our captain then his other attributes will ensure he has everything needed to succeed at the very top. Just don’t pretend to me that he is a big brute tackler who can’t do anything else simply because that is what you want to see.

We can probably expect some changes today. Maybe Theo, maybe Gabriel. Personally I’d love to see Tomáš. Please Arsène, please. Whoever starts at three o’clock I hope they can continue the good work of Tuesday night. I also hope that we can go into the enforced misery of No Football Fortnight with a win under our belts and that West Brom, Leicester, Liverpool and Hull can all give us something to smile about. I trust you will find suitable diversions with which to entertain yourself during the Arsenal drought, I’ll be back on April the fourth with my Liverpool preview, until then, I bid you farewell.

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Racism Is Alive And Kicking

A guest post from Yido6061

When the footage of Chelsea fans boasting of their racist entitlement whilst jostling a black man on the Paris Metro emerged a couple of weeks ago, I admittedly fell into the trap set by my own deeply entrenched prejudices. After all, this is the club that continues to be captained by a self-styled ‘leader’ and ‘legend’ who was undeniably caught on camera spitting out equally abhorrent racial slurs towards a fellow professional.

This is the fanbase of a club who have evoked the horrors of the Nazi gas chambers by insidiously hissing at my own club’s supporters over the years. This is the club who cannot observe the poignancy required by a minute’s quiet reflection on the anniversary of ninety-six deaths during a cup semi-final. that’s the problem with prejudice. It is an emotion bereft of reason and when one realises it has taken hold, one must immediately banish it to some dark recess of the brain, sub-categorised ‘The Seventies’. Of course not all Chelsea fans are knuckle-dragging, unevolved goons, posturing and chest-beating themselves into xenophobic frenzy on French public transport.

To resort to the standard defence made by the casual racist, I know a lot of Chelsea fans and have counted many of them as my best friends. Kind of. After all, if it’s good enough for the backtracking squirming of the likes of Dave Whelan and Ron Atkinson, it’s good enough for me.

Those Chelsea supporters are not inherently evil as some have been quick to point out. They are morons. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that the attitudes they foster within themselves are bubbling away beneath the surface of many people throughout this country and however much we like to congratulate ourselves on the work we’ve done to kick these things out in our workplaces, football stadiums, etc, we can’t be so delusional to believe that racism’s insidiousness has been eradicated from all aspects of public life.