Positively Arsenal

Arsenal In Monaco: Daring To Dream.

Posted by steww on March 17, 2015 in All Posts

“To tell deliberate lies while genuinely believing in them, to forget any fact that has become inconvenient, and then, when it becomes necessary again, to draw it back from oblivion for just as long as it is needed, to deny the existence of objective reality and all the while to take account of the reality which one denies – all this is indispensably necessary.”
George Orwell: 1984

I was wondering what it would be like to write for a different Arsenal blog, pretty much any other Arsenal blog it seems to me sometimes. I wondered how I could tailor my words to fit the required narrative, distort my thoughts and opinions and still write with honesty and humour. That is when Orwell’s words came to me. Doublethink. That’s what it would require “To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete truthfulness while telling carefully constructed lies,” to somehow see the evidence before us of the remarkable, breathtaking and above all selfless achievements of Arsène Wenger and misrepresent them in an unending litany of unfounded nitpicking, of cynical and above all snide deceit.

We saw this process in action after the almost entirely positive results of the weekend. Bear in mind that this was the best week in our season. That the inexorably rising tide of negativity had told us with complete confidence that we could not progress in the FA Cup once we’d been drawn against Manchester United at Old Trafford. That the best we could hope for was to battle against superior forces for an unlikely fourth place because Chelsea and Man City wouldn’t be dropping any points any time soon and we are too unreliable, too weak and inept not to do so ourselves. Of course these people may have been correct. One good week doesn’t decide a season, but why is a negative, pessimistic assessment of future events not seen as self deluding when a hopeful, positive prediction is? Why can’t folk just celebrate the good times unabashed, unfettered from their usual sarcastic harping? It beats the hell out of me. I imagine them as children, receiving a wonderful birthday present then telling all their friends how badly their mother wrapped the gift, how poor the paper plates were at last years party.

As you all know I start every new season believing we can not only go unbeaten in all competitions but that we can win every game in which we play. Why? Because it’s possible. Likely? Of course not, but possible. It is a wonderful scenario to envisage and fuels my hope and expectation. Granted it makes the first draw hard to bear and the first defeat harder but surely it is better to live in a state of happy excitement than one of perpetual impending doom. The result is the same for people of both mindsets so it seems to me that remaining positive means I spend more of my time happy than they do. This is why I pity rather than censure the fans who elect to believe the worst, to worry and fret about possible or even probable failure. They choose to live in misery before there is even anything to be miserable about. There is an old line which all this brings to mind – worry is interest paid on trouble before it falls due.

This is why I have been happily looking forward to tonight’s match. This is why I am entertaining perhaps fanciful notions of winning the league. And the FA Cup. And the Champions League. Because why not? These outcomes are possible and so I treat them as possibilities. Hardly the behaviour of a delusional person to treat the possible as, well, as possible. It’s a simple equation x = x. What harm does it do anyone to imagine a positive outcome and enjoy the subsequent scenes pictured in one’s imagination right up until the event itself? I’ve looked forward to tonight’s match ever since the final whistle in the first leg. I’ve visualised us scoring towards the end of the first half, and then again with about fifteen minutes still to play. We survive a couple of close calls along the way, maybe a brace of fine saves from our keeper, perhaps they hit the post or have a good call for a penalty turned down. Then, as the clock ticks down, doubts begin to creep into the minds of the players from the home team. They make a few nervous clearances, we begin to bombard them with crosses, with dazzling passing moves. Then, disaster! They break away, our commitment to total attack leaves us bereft of deep defensive cover, through on the keeper they snatch a goal – it seems all over. Until a moment of brilliance from one of our players wipes the smiles from their faces and we go into extra time with the tie level and all to play for.

Now I know what you’re thinking and you are quite right, this is a fantasy. Of course it is, I could just as easily choose to picture us winning by five clear goals and never suffering a moment’s unease. I could imagine Monaco scoring in the first minute and the whole thing crashing around our ears. My point is I have thoroughly enjoyed imagining success. Have those who are inexplicably angered by this enjoyed their fortnight of looking forward to certain defeat? I doubt it, so who is the richer man? Given that I will be no more or less unhappy if things don’t go well then it’s an easy question to answer.

I feel the same about catching Man City. I pictured it, enjoyed imagining how it would feel and now it is a distinct possibility. It might not happen still, but who cares? If it does then I will look forward again and imagine us catching Chelsea. They could still suffer a few injuries, lose a little confidence after a couple more games like the Southampton one, who knows? It would be a rare and historic achievement of course and it remains a distinctly unlikely scenario but as long as it is possible what is to be gained by harping on about games we lost at the start of the season? Why search out negative depressing thoughts when you could be enjoying the ride?

My other sport is mountain biking and I often watch instructional videos by a man called Richard Kelly. Richard is an enthusiast for not getting hung up on obstacles and barriers encountered along the way. He preaches looking through the trail to a successful outcome and above all envisaging that successful outcome before attempting a difficult or hair raising piece of riding. You know what? It works. Picture yourself being successful and you don’t go at an obstacle tense and in a negative frame of mind and consequently you don’t haul on the brakes at the worst possible moment and sail over the handlebars.

This advice can be taken off the trail and into everyday life. Our positive thoughts may not influence the players tonight, but they can make us live with a little more happiness and a little less negativity and what on earth could be wrong with that? Win lose or draw I will always believe in this team. The players and the manager are just too good for me to think otherwise. Enjoy the match, and don’t give up hope until all hope is lost.

Tags: Arsenal, Arsene Wenger, belief, Champions League, Monaco, orwell Permalink

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Arsene Wenger. A Personal Sacrifice.

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on March 16, 2015 in All Posts

Today we have a guest post from @TheFalseNein

It’s 1995 and George Graham has decided his time at Arsenal was up – Leaving Rioch to hold the fort for The Gunners who finished a mediocre 5^th the following season. I say mediocre, but this was a huge improvement on their league position in the previous season, in which they finished 12^th following Graham’s sacking after the scandal he was involved in. Graham’s sacking left the club in a state of disrepair and in need of a pioneer to get the club back to the heights it was at during the 10 years prior. ‘Arsène who?’ the papers questioned, when the Grampus Eight manager was hired in the close season. How could a club with such a glorious history choose such a person to drive them back in to Europe? Sure he had won a Ligue 1 title amongst 3 other trophies in his time at Monaco, but a man who cowers off to Japan when things get tough surely cannot handle the great English Premier League? You can imagine these were the thoughts amongst the media and so too the Gunners faithful followed suit. Arsenal captain Tony Adams famously said ‘He looks like a school teacher’ with the clear implication that he wasn’t all that in football terms.

Wenger introduced new training methods and player dieting, something unheard of and ridiculed in English football. I won’t go into the details because this is an article, not a biography. I’ll let you know in brief then, how the opening decade of Wenger’s reign went:

96/97 – 3^rdafter signing Patrick Vieira and Remi Garde

97/98 – 1^st and won the FA Cup after signing Emmanuel Petit, Marc Overmars and Nicholas Anelka with Ian Wright departing after the Cup Final.

98/99 – 2^nd losing the Premier League and the FA Cup to ‘The Class of 92’. Ljungberg and Kanu sign.

99/00 – 2^nd losing the EUFA Cup Final to Galatasaray. Anelka leaves and is replaced by Thierry Henry. Graham’s old guard begin to depart, Lauren brought in to replace Winterburn.

00/01 – 2^nd losing the FA Cup Final to Liverpool. Petit and Overmars leave, Pires, Wiltord and Edu are brought in.

July 2001 – Wenger is offered the chance to join Petit and Overmars at Barcelona, instead he signs a four year deal at Arsenal. Arsène finds his new CB pairing in Sol Campbell and Kolo Toure.

01/02 – 1^st and win the FA Cup. Two doubles in 6 years for Arsène and Arsenal. Gilberto Silva signs.

02/03 – 2^nd and win the FA Cup. Wenger hits out at Manchester United’s unbridled spending. Brings in Lehmann to replace Seaman. Senderos, Clichy, Djourou, Van Persie and Fabregas are signed.

03/04– 1^st. Arsenal go the entire season unbeaten in the league with 90 points. Reyes is signed midseason to aid the title challenge .

04/05 – 2^nd Arsenal miss out to Mourinho’s Chelsea, who spent £203m in the two windows prior. Arsène’s saving grace is once again winning the FA Cup.

2004 – 2006: The work on the Emirates Stadium finally begins. Wenger describes this as ‘the biggest decision in Arsenal history’. And so it was.

Now I’m not going to pretend the next 8 years are pretty. They aren’t. Arsenal have to start making annual PROFIT while Chelsea spend in excess of £70m each window on transfers alone. Arsène holds his tongue despite only being given a minute budget the previous season (the only signings being Flamini, Eboue and Almunia with no movement in January to aid the title push). The squad are low on morale after missing out on the club’s third double in a decade – and it’s only about to get worse. Robert Pires feels his best days are over and leaves the club, taking his creative contribution with him. The club then receive an offer for want-away captain, Patrick Vieira from Juventus. The Invincibles lost their captain that year and the rest of their spine follow a year later (Ashley Cole, Sol Campbell, Thierry Henry) after the heartbreak of the Champions League Final loss to Barcelona. Half of the squad Arsène built over the last decade have abandoned him, the board say they do not have the funds to properly replace them.

You know how the rest of the story goes. Arsenal endure a lengthy trophy drought between 2005/2014, despite making 5 semi-final appearances and one final appearance, each as agonisingly painful as the other. Many argue ‘Arsène lost us that many big matches.’ but I’d like you to think for a moment who managed to get us in that position in the first place? Of course he could have handled certain occasions better – perhaps set up more defensively etc. as all the twitter experts and Adrian Durham will tell you, but does that take anything away from the credibility of the man? Does that mean he is not a top class manager because he refuses to play negative football and ‘park the bus’? Of course we can pick at individual mistakes Wenger has made over his tenure, he has managed over 1,000 Arsenal games and is bound to get some of them wrong, him being a human being and all.

But this article isn’t about ‘what makes a top class manager’, It’s about the contribution Arsène Wenger has made to Arsenal Football Club. I will remind you again of the events of 2001 where Arsène was asked to join Barcelona or perhaps 2004 when he could’ve taken the coaching role a Real Madrid. How easy would it have been for the Premier League Manager of the Year 2004 to ‘leave on a high’ and build on the 16 trophies he’s already won with one of the Spanish giants? I know world class manager, Jose Mourinho would’ve. I can say that because that’s exactly what he did when he left Chelsea mid season in 2007 because things weren’t going as planned. The difference between the two fantastic managers is that Mourinho would rather retire with a very pretty trophy room, filled with his own personal honours and be known as ‘the special one’ by those who supported his various teams – whilst Wenger wants to make an imprint on one football club, a long lasting legacy that will ensure the success of the club long after he’s gone. When asked about where his titles are Wenger said ‘I don’t know. I don’t like to look back’. He may not care for individual honours, but what he certainly does care about is Arsenal. Arsène sacrificed his own success so that he could make sure Arsenal could stay successful.

It’s been about two years since Arsenal paid the portion the debt of the Emirates Stadium that they planned too. and club CEO Ivan Gazidis claimed ‘Arsenal are now on course to compete with the greatest clubs in the world, we’re in the process of becoming a modern super club’. He’s not wrong. If you look at the transfers explored earlier in this article, you’ll see that Wenger bought 2 or 3 key players in each season prior to the Invincibles run – gradually building a title winning force that can maintain a challenge in ALL competitions. Arsène unearthed great gems during the trophy drought, players he surely thought would shape the spine of his future title winning team – Cesc Fabregas, Alex Song, Samir Nasri, Robin Van Persie, Gael Clichy, Kolo Toure,Cole. All left to chase glory with sides that had uncapped spending potential. Each time Wenger would establish his first team, get to a stage where he was two players off a side that could win titles, two more would leave – an impossible task when you make world class players but cannot afford to keep them happy. Now we find ourselves in a similar position. As I type this, Arsenal fans are still relishing in their triumph over Manchester United, the club look on course to retaining the trophy they ended the drought with. We also sit in one point off of 2^nd place, many suggest we are one or two players away from winning the title – where have I heard that before? Though due to the debt of the Emirates Stadium being paid off, we are in a position where two players can come in without us having sacrifice one of our star men to afford it.

For me, the sad part is that Wenger feels his own career is coming to a close. When his contract is up in 2017, he’d have finally completed the squad we’ve been building for years. Ozil, Alexis, Wilshere, Ramsey, Walcott, Koscielny, Gabriel and Giroud will all be in the peak years of their respective careers. There you have a spine of a team that can win titles in the present but what astounds me is Wenger’s concern for the future success of the club too. Spending grand sums of money on youth products like Chambers, Oxlade-Chamberlain and Hector Bellerin that’ll surely continue to dazzle and contribute to Arsenal’s success long after Arsène himself is gone. The manager that takes Wenger’s place will have very little to do as the foundations for success will be there ready made for him. The media illusion will tell you that Wenger’s retirement is what Arsenal needed to win titles again, but in reality it was the sacrifices he made that created a platform for us to succeed in the first place. He may not have the titles Ferguson had, but he will leave the club of his heart with the means to continue to be strong without him. My aim of this article wasn’t to put Wenger’s name up in starry lights and glorify everything the man has done. Just to make you think a little before you criticise a man who has always put our club, his club, before himself.

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We have our swagger back

Posted by anicoll5 on March 15, 2015 in All Posts

Watching yesterday’s efficient despatch of West Ham in the gentle Spring sunshine of North London it occurred to me that we definitely have our swagger back, domestically at least.

The Appy Ammers arrived with few expectations of a victory after a 14 game run against the Arsenal with not one win but hopeful of making us work, clinging on and eventually stealing a point. Sam has form for this type of result. Never pretty but Sam would never claim to be pretty. Like dogs his teams take on the characteristics of his misshapen bulldog skull.

Alas within a short while it became clear even to the visitors’ noisy contingent that the best result they might hope for would be a respectable defeat rather than a definitive shellacking.

Our midfield movement from the first whistle opened the Ammers up. Players moved not as independent and disconnected units but in sequence, joined in a collective mind to look for the space, the opening, the weak link to exploit. Song to his credit battled hard, too hard once or twice, and Adrian was a warrior between the sticks. But the power was all one way, the force bearing down on the claret and blue goal. Oh yes, the confidence flowed through my system as the ball weaved and span across the baize, stroked, caressed and eventually potted by our finest crop.

And eventually it came, the hammer blow into the top corner just as the half time oranges were being cut. I share below a snap taken by excellent AFC photographer Stuart MacFarlane – if you don’t follow the man in Twitter you should.

I did not realise the cod-piece was making a come back in modern sportswear but you have the evidence.

So 1-0 at the break and cruising, it should have been more.

And then the opening ten minutes of the second half ? Not good, not switched on when we came out and a better side than West Ham might have taken advantage. Fortunately while they had possession and pressed us back, and we appeared unable to keep the ball, they had no sharpness in the box to take advantage. The cloud passed over, the sun shone on. And so, inevitably, we started to control the game again. Santi and Danny came on, and our control developed into total domination. The next goals came, inevitable and very tidy they were against a team who, with ten minutes to go, had clearly nothing left to contribute but were out on their feet.

There may be those who tell you that West Ham, at just 0-1 down were “still in the game” to the 80^th minute. Don’t believe it, They were never, ever in the game.

It finished 3-0, a distinctly unflattering score given our dominance. I did however have my fingers firmly crossed during that last few minutes for that third goal to go in, because of Tuesday. The third goal seemed important, a portent of future events, because of Monaco. And the man from Marseilles duly obliged. You know what I mean.

For all the patterns and systems it is about players and I thought Mesut was magnificent yesterday. A superb contribution with the ball, exquisite movement off it, and great energy. Kosc was a yard faster and a thought ahead of anything West Ham may have had up their sleeve. And le Coq is gradually becoming more creative, not just the “midfield beast” that the experts demanded.

So enjoy your Sunday. Two interesting games later. I think we set off with great heart to Monaco after one of the best footballing weeks in a long time.

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Arsenal Versus West Ham: Arsène’s Beautiful Ballet

Posted by steww on March 14, 2015 in All Posts

I began my first draft of this little missive by suggesting that today’s game was a case of back down to earth with a bump. I scratched it out and started again for two reasons. Primarily because we don’t deal in tedious clichés here at the home of positivity but also because, as exciting as Champions League and FA Cup fixtures are, a visit from West Ham United is absolutely as important. We are right into the gristle of our league season, teeth sunk deep into the thigh of the Premier League beast and it is the teams which put together a good run from March onwards who are often sitting most prettily come May.

Arsenal cannot take anything lightly from now on. We have Man City firmly in our sights and we won’t bring down such a bloated, huge, cash rich brute without we maintain a constant, slavering, blood thirsty snarling at their heels. They need to feel the hot breath on their necks every step of the way. We want them looking over their shoulders and the chasing pack to falter and lose heart behind us. How to achieve this? By treating the likes of West Ham with precisely the same sense of all embracing commitment and concentration as that with which we approached the Man United cup tie on Monday night.

I know we weren’t perfect at Old Trafford. United actually had far more of the game and many more chances than most of us liked to pretend when revelling in the result on Tuesday. That is often the way. Just as we were nowhere near as bad as everyone said after the Monaco game, people do love to allow results to cloud their judgement of what actually happened over the ninety minutes. One thing we can all agree about our performance in Manchester is that it was resolute. There was an unwillingness to get beaten and a determination to keep sniffing for the winner which was so beautifully encapsulated in Danny Wellbeck’s goal. Those same qualities of determination, resolution and a refusal to lie down often count every bit as much as superior ball skills as we lace our flats for the final pas de bourrée.

The other significant factor which we’ve witnessed recently is the role of the so called lesser players in lifting the team when stellar performers are perhaps slightly off their game. It is of course nothing more than an essential aspect of any team sport that people step up when others experience a small dip in form. It is fantastical to expect an entire squad of players to simultaneously hit the high notes. Some may have a stand out season, others may enjoy a number of purple patches, many stay at a decent level throughout. Form comes and goes and individuals fight their own personal battles to get back on song while still contributing to the overall choreography of Arsène’s beautiful ballet.

I’m thinking particularly of the way Nacho Monreal and Francis Coquelin gave themselves up to the needs of the team and the desires of the supporters with the commitment and passion of drunken bridesmaids at the end of a reception, whereas Alexis batted his eyelashes and flirted but never really took things in hand as we know he can. He’ll come good again I have no doubt, but that isn’t my point. I’m more interested in the way the side plugs its own gaps and the way we have been getting results when not at our sensual and fluid best. All of these qualities go together to make up a successful team and if we can keep doing what we’ve been doing the winning confidence will lay the foundations for a return to the free flowing instinctive football of which we know this squad to be capable.

So what of our opponents today? The last time we met them they were above us as we strove to achieve fifth place, which we duly did by taking three points home from Upton Park and playing leap frog with Fat Sam and his merry men. After a good start to the season they were beginning to slide while we were in the process of hauling ourselves in the opposite direction towards our by now customary seat at the top table. The recent form statistics do not make happy reading for our friends from the East End. We are still second, just behind Liverpool while our visitors today languish in eighteenth having failed to win in their last six. A small cautionary note does sound on closer examination of their last six away games. They have drawn four, results which include taking a point home from Swansea, Southampton and Spurs respectively and so the warning signs are there.

Can I tell you anything about how the lugubrious old saggy faced gum chewer will set up his players? Can you tell me the numbers for tonight’s lottery? I can guess that he might suggest they keep a lot of players behind the ball, frustrate us and look to hit us on the break. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing we’ve ever seen but I have noticed our opponents often opting to harass Per and Kos high up the pitch to force us to hoof it long thereby thwarting our taste in patient build up. Tactical geniuses like Brendan Rodgers have been known to send out their teams with the express instruction to go four up within twenty minutes and so we can’t discount that possibility. I recall Hull trying something like it in the cup final last year but they fell short by two goals and so their whole plan went to shit rags.

Personally I don’t give a hoot how the other bloke sets out his stall. It is the way we play that ought to determine the outcome. If they defend in depth we will slowly pull and prod at them until we get a couple of threads started and eventually we’ll get them to unravel. If they come at us we will hit them with rapier like, counter attacking football. If we have one of our perfect games (and we are due one) then they won’t see the ball at all, so it won’t matter if they come out juggling fire and singing the Bolivian national anthem. Like predicting the team line ups I know no more than the rest of you so I’ll leave that to the discussion which I trust will follow my half baked ramblings. Speaking of half baked, my vegan croissant should be about ready by now so I’ll bid you adieu and if you’re not at the match I hope you manage to come across a decent quality stream. If you do, let me know where to find it. Thanks.

Tags: Arsenal, Premier League, West Ham, West Ham United Permalink

194 Comments

Arsenal In Manchester – Business As Usual

Posted by steww on March 10, 2015 in All Posts

I turned to Liz about twenty minutes before kick off and remarked on what a good day I’d had. First decent day in about two months in fact. Those who know me beyond the world of football will be aware things have been, of late, somewhat bumpy Chez Stew. Yesterday however we had seen a glimmer of light pierce the dark clouds and I was basking, just a little bit. It was about then I glanced at the clock and realised what time it was, what was about to happen and what I’d just said. How could I possibly describe Monday as a good day when there was such a potential game changer still to come? I tried to remember the lofty words I’ve often used to others. That old flim-flam about rising above the fray, employing some perspective and realising that in the grand scheme of things an FA Cup quarter final at Old Trafford was not really the most important thing in my life right now. It was merely a side show, a theatrical distraction to our real life drama, and regardless of the result I would still have had a good day. I forget the poet’s name but I think the quote I’m looking for is what a load of old bollocks. A defeat last night and my warm glow would have been swiftly translated into permafrost. Silly really to let the antics of a bunch of millionaire footballers undo all the good I’d worked for but in the end that is precisely what we sign up to isn’t it?

As it happened I need not have worried. Far from the dreaded and frankly unwelcome turd in the swimming pool, last night proved to be icing on an already tasty cake. We all saw it so I’ll spare you a blow by blow but for what it’s worth here are my impressions of the thrills and spills. Firstly, as George observed in the immediate aftermath, what a difference a decent performance from a referee makes. The players may have worked hard, really hard in fact throughout a tough match and eventually got their reward but the man in black was rivalled only by de Gea for his individual quality. We all know that back in the era of Ferguson and his horribly unhealthy relationship with the football establishment none of the yellow cards never mind the red would have happened. So credit where it’s due to Mr Oliver, and in a world of inept and probably corrupt officiating it is quite a joy to be able to say that. I have to add however that the final result had far more to do with resolute defending and a one dimensional approach from the home team than Di Maria’s stupidity. Per was back to his imperious best, Coquelin and Koscielny snuffed out Fellaini’s lumpen threat and the full backs, properly supported by the wide forwards stuck to their task impeccably.

Once again Arsène’s tactics were flawless, and it was good to see the players employ them effectively. Sent out to press and harass defenders who are drilled never to hoof away possession but always pass the ball even if that means going back to square one they did just that. This was surely the reason he opted for raw speed over assured insouciance by starting with Olivier on the bench. Eventually of course it was the pace and poaching skills of Daniel Nii Tackie Mensah Welbeck which made the difference. Just as the manager must have suspected it would. His substitutions were perfectly timed, even if one was forced, this being the only real blot on Arsenal’s otherwise pristine evening; yet another injury for Chamberlain. I am beginning to worry about that young man. The silver lining however was Aaron’s introduction to the fray. Some people have put forward the frankly ludicrous proposition that being injured for much of the season and not scoring ten goals a game means our Welsh maestro has somehow been a disappointment. Last night his calm assurance on the ball, his defensive work rate and his clever movement were vital in preventing United building a head of steam. I honestly thought they’d give us more of a headache towards the end of the match. I was bracing myself in my lonely room, waiting for the traditional United onslaught, but it never really came.

The pundits, pub bores to a man, all tried to say it was a poor Manchester side that lost the game, but we know they would rather be buggered on live television by Carlton Palmer’s Doberman than give us any credit. The fact is their new manager has spent this entire season drumming into his charges the style in which he wants them to play and, most footballers not being conspicuously over endowed in the cerebrum, they’ve just about got the idea now. The problem was when they needed something different all they came up with was to stick their filthy Belgian fouling machine down the middle, bang it up high in his general direction and when that didn’t work then it was dive, dive dive. Sadly and unusually for the men in red the Das Boot routine failed them last night. What a glorious sight it was to see them finally get their comeuppance after years of cheating impunity. Still, it doesn’t do to gloat does it? Well, perhaps just a little.

So what of the future? The planets seem to be aligning to produce a repeat of the first ever cup final I watched as an Arsenal fan. Back in 1970 when I elected to follow the red and white having dallied with, bizarrely as it seems now, both Celtic and Chelsea, a perfect first season culminated with Bob Wilson in his green cap and Charlie George lying prostrate on the Wembley turf. It may not be so. Blackburn could do everyone a favour and cancel the Stevie G media love in, Reading or Bradford could prevent us getting to the ultimate game of the tournament. Never forget how close Wigan pushed us last year. There is indeed many a slip twixt the FA cup and the lips of our captain upon it. But given the form and stature of the teams left in the hat I bet you’d get great odds for a Villa versus Reading final.

I apologise for the somewhat breathless ill conditioned tone of today’s blog. I am perhaps a little emotional still. Apart from anything else I detest watching us play at Old Trafford. It is literally the only fixture where I subscribe to the mantra of the nonsensical i.e. the only thing that matters is the result. Football is of course about so much more but I’ve become so conditioned to us losing there that I could have happily pressed fast forward to the final minute and just absorbed the score. Last night however things were different. As I said before the game I had a curious presentiment that we were due a change in fortune. I may not have expected it to be so dramatic with them missing from point blank range and their cheating ways telling on them so profoundly, but even though the match lacked free flowing sparkling football it had the right mix of tension and excitement to leave me restlessly unable to get to sleep. In short I’m glad I watched it, and you’ll seldom hear any football lover say that after ninety minutes in the company of Rooney, Fellaini and Young.

My final thoughts go to my mate Steve. You may think that the journey home from Greater Manchester would have been one of unbridled celebration but it wasn’t so for everyone. Steve is a coach driver. He drove all the way from Midsomer Norton to Old Trafford and spent the entire evening in the car park outside of the ground being so close that he could hear the game but not see one kick of the action. That’s not why I felt for him though. It was more the prospect of him then having to endure a four and a half hour drive in the company of fifty six miserable, disgruntled, moaning West Country Man United fans. Actually, thinking about it, that sounds like fun.

Tags: About time too, england, fa cup, football, Justice, man united, Manchester, Old Trafford, United Permalink

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Arsenal’s Waterloo? Or Allez Les Bleus?

Posted by steww on March 9, 2015 in All Posts

Anyone who buys into the oft repeated media convention that the FA Cup no longer means anything in the modern game needs to take a look at the scenes which took place in Villa Park on Saturday evening. The explosion of emotion from the Villa fans which spilled from the stands and onto the pitch served to remind the old and infirm among us of a bygone era. Not always a better era I hasten to add. Running battles along concrete terraces, ploughed pitches that made Selhurst Park look like the newly laid baize on a snooker table, up and under cloggers sending the ball skywards, racist chanting and mounted police. Age provides us with a curious telescope through which to gaze at the past. I know all of those things to be true and yet still experience a serene, fuzzy contentment when I allow myself to wallow in the warm waters of my nostalgia. There was an electricity in a football stadium whether it was a European Cup night between giants of the modern game or an early round of the Sherpa Van Trophy against Wallsall on a wet Wednesday evening at Twerton Park.

The raw, visceral excitement contorting the faces of those Villa fans as their team moved to within sight of a trip to Wembley – even if it was only for a semi final – had that same lightning running through it. This wasn’t generated by the magic of the FA Cup per se, it had more to do with the way football manages to connect with some primitive ferocity within us, encapsulating fear, anticipation, loathing, love, release, relief, joy and exultation all in an adrenaline fuelled ninety minutes of savage nail biting tension. It does help that there was a chance of glory at the end of the game, that the opposition were local rivals and that their side had endured a very poor season thus far, but it did me good to see that people still cared enough to get so carried away.

The BBC commentators were of course appalled by the pitch invasion and even those of us less feeble minded than Mark Lawrenson (and I am not excluding much of the human race in that statement) were concerned as the fans streamed onto the pitch. I ought to point out that I wasn’t overly worried about public safety more that Villa might see the result overturned if their own fans caused the match to be abandoned. No one wanted to see Pulis get a second chance to stink up the semi finals with his twisted, smug little grin did they? I didn’t particularly fear for the safety of the inept referee or the players as it looked as if most fans crossed the invisible barrier simply to congratulate their heroes, take a selfie or just to express the rapture of the moment. The debate which followed however, stirred some memories.

The last time I went onto the pitch during a game was, I think, about nineteen ninety six. It was Ashton Gate, Rovers were destroying City by two goals to nil and many City fans spent the match locked out of the ground due to a sell out crowd. Some of these started trying to come in through the back of the stand in which the away fans were corralled. Made a deuce of a row tearing off hoardings and banging on the walls as I recall. We decided to wander onto the pitch to avoid becoming embroiled in any potential disorder and thereby alert the authorities to the fact that a bunch of fans were wrecking their own stadium to try to get at us. It was a frightfully genteel pitch invasion with people helping elderly supporters over the barrier and those with children being shepherded to the front of the queue. Later on however the home fans raced onto the turf intent on chasing the players and officials from the pitch. In the main they succeeded, but the Rovers centre forward Peter Beadle not only stood his ground but actually stepped forward towards the baying mob which then broke about him like water around a rock. It was quite a sight. Put it this way, if I had stood in an infantry square on the field of Waterloo as the French Cuirassiers bore down upon us I’d have hoped to find Peter Beadle stood next to me. Mounted police cleared the pitch and if memory serves the result stood.

I don’t anticipate any such scenes at Old Trafford tonight. There is still passion in the game, Villa park provides ample evidence of that, but I suspect the stewarding and policing when Man United host Arsenal is pretty slick. Evidence the fact that the only real problems in recent fixtures between the two clubs have involved the management and or playing staff rather than the supporters. The match means no less to either side than it did to Pulis and Sherwood’s teams, it represents a very real chance of a trophy to a United ensemble which looked to have lost its way for much of the last couple of years. The pessimistic among our fan base probably feel the same about us. Personally, I think Liverpool are the team to beat this year and I don’t mean to belittle the challenge of overcoming United when I say that. It’s just they are the ones in form right now, whereas United, like us, have got results without always looking a hundred percent convincing.

My optimism before kick off is of course irrelevant. You all know by now that I expect to win every game and am always bewildered when we lose. This doesn’t grow out of any blind faith or inability to acknowledge potential pitfalls. It stems from the simple fact that on our day, when everything falls into place and our best players play to their potential we can absolutely stuff anybody you care to put in front of us. It is impossible to know in advance if today will be one of those perfect days, but faced with the simple fact that it could be I choose to think it might. Why not? The self harm brigade don’t have a monopoly on guessing the future. Today though my usual Leonard Nimoy style of logical, clear thinking has been invaded by what might almost pass for superstition. You see I just feel we’re due a bit of a break against Man United. I think we’ve been unlucky against them too often in too many ways. Drawn when we should have won, lost when we could consider ourselves unfortunate had we only drawn, been the victims of injustice too many times to count. If you ask me it’s time to lay a bit of a diabolic red ghost to rest. I don’t underestimate United and I don’t underestimate the passion of the FA Cup but I don’t believe Arsenal should be underestimated either.

The fervour on display at Villa Park has given me much pause for thought. Seeing just how strong is the power of football, how it still has the ability to galvanise the emotions of its adherents made me realise something I’ve perhaps overlooked. In the age of isolated support, when folk sit alone all over the world watching the game with those same emotions tearing through their veins, they have no outlet for their feelings. We can’t all run onto the pitch or be humiliated by Peter Beadle when passion overcomes us but that same passion is there nonetheless. Is it any surprise then that some people may be prone to rash and injudicious outbursts? Perhaps I should be more understanding when some folk rush to judgement on twitter if things go against their team. Maybe I’ve been a little harsh in the past when some supporters simply fail to master their feelings and their reactions lack a desirable discernment. I shall endeavour to be more forgiving in future and especially this evening. It is after all the FA Cup quarter final. I think we’re allowed to get a little carried away aren’t we?

Tags: Arsenal, beadle, fa cup, football, man united, Mark Lawrenson, pitch invasion, Villa Park, waterloo Permalink

36 Comments

Arsene Wenger v The Pragmatists.

Posted by pedantic George @arseblagger on March 7, 2015 in All Posts

Isn’t it amazing? Just as West Ham are enjoying one of their highest positions in the league for some time, the natives are restless. It seems they aren’t enjoying their season even though their elevated position would expect a celebration and mini wave every time they take the field. So what is it that has upset the Irons faithful so much? Is it their co-chairman looking like a couple of porn stars? Is it their move to a plastic stadium they just won’t fill? Or is it their manager is so ugly he makes Ian Dowie look like a model on a Nivea advert?

Actually their grumblings, annoyance and frustration is about the style of football they play well who’d have thought it. Surely after the failings of the pretty football of Zola, relegation and a manager dragging them out of a hard division, that consolidation and flirtation with Europe would be an absolute joy, but no. The reason is, apart from the odd spell, their football is shit. Fat Sam is and will always be a practical manager and no matter how hard he tries he will never be able to achieve the prize all long term fans really want and that’s to enjoy the beautiful game.

While the things that glitter may mask the football fans goal for a while and it will certainly appease the plastic fan, the true aspiration for the true fan is the pure joy of football being played well. It is for this reason that the fat Sam’s of the footballing world will never stay in a job long term no matter how well they do. Remember the messiah from the potteries who could do no wrong, even when he tried repeating history and turned football into rugby, you would of thought the troglodytes would of loved him forever but no, even they got bored of him and his dire displays and asked him to leave while they went in search of the ball and the grass staying in closer proximity.

On the other side of the coin an, allegedly, stagnating Crewe held onto their manager for 467 years (actually only 24 but it seemed like it), which by the way is record in the lower divisions. Dario Gradi youth development and beautiful style meant the fans had identity and entertainment and they loved it. They never won the champions league or even the F.A. cup under his tenure but none of their fans would trade him for the practical manager whose face resembles my left bollock.

So where does this involve ARSENAL? Well after learning kammy was interviewing Maureen on sky Sunday morning thingy I immediately switched off, knowing he was going to whinge on about how the refs had it in for him and how his poor little team had never committed a fowl in their lives, I really couldn’t watch the sycophant. However sometime later I heard Maureen had another dig at Arsene. Now I know he never misses an opportunity to have a dig but this was different, knowing the problems Arsene has had with refs in the past Maureen might even be seeking him as an ally. This got me thinking what is his problem with Arsene? I know he has a napoleon complex, I know he will shag his own grandmother if gets him a trophy, I know he doesn’t like Arsene but all this was irrelevant in the context of the programme.

Well Once again like Fat Sam, Pullis and all the other “make the most of what you’ve got” mangers, no matter what riches and facilities put at Maureen’s disposal he cannot match Arsene flair, understanding of the beautiful game and production of such wonderful football. The Coach driver absolutely hates Arsene for this for his egotistical mountain is always in the shade and when he looks up he can only see Arsene skiing with grace and finesse around the style peaks. When he tries to close his eyes at night and dreams about his trophy’s that little voice inside his little head says “yeah but Arsene always produces better football than you”. When you think about all his sleepless nights you can understand his fixation.

Reasons to be cheerful 1,2,3.

arse_or_brain (seebs)

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177 Comments

Kelly’s Heroes

Posted by steww on March 4, 2015 in All Posts

I’m not much of a one for a post mortem. I’ll watch Adrian Clarke’s breakdown on the official site and that’s usually enough picking over the bones for me. I did however enjoy a chat with our Kelly, PA’s very own representative in Alabama, after the Everton match. It wasn’t so much a discussion about the match itself as a reflection on matters arising. Specifically the fickle nature of football supporters in general and Arsenal supporters in particular. I like Kelly, I like the way she supports. Whereas I specialize in a sort of lugubrious stoicism, Kelly is fierce and tigerish in defence of our players. Neither friend nor foe is safe if they are foolish enough to step over the line into unfair or ill conceived criticism. Many of us have felt the heat, smelt the scorched cloth of our smouldering collars after a poorly constructed comment to the detriment of one of Arsenal’s finest.

She was holding forth Sunday evening on the way people like to write off a player one minute then laud them as the second coming of Ferenc Puskás the next. Take Per. We all know what a wonderful assured presence he has been for us, what a huge part of our success last season. After being rested for the Everton match, and following that über tackle by our new Brazilian beauty people were suddenly consigning the master of the interception to the nearest skip along with the old mattress and bags of dog shit. As Kelly was quick to point out one costly error from the wonder kid and of course it’ll be about face everybody, all is forgiven, please come back Per and save us from Wenger’s latest defensive flop.

What occurred to me after this exchange was first and foremost that Kelly had it exactly right. We’ve seen it with so many players over the years, just look at the way Santi was written off earlier this season and now is indispensable, first name on the sheet, player of the season material. Aaron went through hell a couple of years ago and truth be told when he isn’t banging in the goals every week people often still fail to see how much his ball retention, intelligent positional play, energy and passing bring to the team. Until we lose an important game without him, then the pendulum swings back the other way again.

My second response to our conversation concerned Gabriel. Now don’t misunderstand me, I think he had a very good game. Overall. He wasn’t my man of the match, that was Ospina. Everyone else contributed to a solid team performance while our keeper had a game of individual brilliance. But Gabriel had a shaky start and grew in confidence and really looked the part by the end. However. Just think what would have happened if Ospina hadn’t displayed such phenomenally quick thinking after Lukaku nicked the ball off the boy from Brazil. People would have rushed to judgement it’s as simple as that. In parenthesis, while we’re talking about Lukaku I have to say that there is a player not wearing an Arsenal shirt who I genuinely admire, and you know how seldom I say that. Not only could he have ruined our new boy’s league début in the seventeenth minute by choosing to tangle with Ospina he had another opportunity later when Gabriel produced that fabulous tackle to go to ground and maybe con a penalty or two out of the ref. I admire him for doing neither and felt his all round play deserved a goal on Sunday.

Which brings us back to the thrust of this post. Gabriel’s involvement in both incidents would have been identical and yet a different outcome, through other people’s actions, would have seen him hung drawn and quartered for conceding either goals or penalties or perhaps both. Football matches and our perceptions of players often hinge on the outcomes of events regardless of what the player actually does right or wrong. Look at Mesut’s superb run in the eighty first minute. He controls Ox’s pass and chips the keeper for the consummate finish to make it two nil and earn the adulation of all Arsenal fans everywhere. Except that, through no fault of our Deutscher Maestro, Phil Jaglieka’s despairing lunge somehow puts his knee into the path of the ball with just sufficient impact to send it spinning out of play. So instead it goes down as a miss or a poor finish.

This attitude often translates to our perception of the whole team. I loathe the mentality that suggests the score determines the quality of the performance. I cannot understand how people can be so gormless as to subscribe to it. Teams often win when they should have lost and vice versa. Players have goal bound shots stopped by bad luck, inspired defending or keeping without suddenly becoming poor finishers. How Olivier Giroud even got his head on the ball when Jagielka’s left boot was swinging up towards his beautiful Roman hooter is beyond me, never mind that he actually managed to head it towards Tim Howard’s goal but he put his life (or at least his smouldering good looks) on the line to do it and yet the immediate response wasn’t respect for his courage but abuse at another missed chance.

Inconstant, judgemental, unfair and fickle. Never mind, let’s put it behind us and look forward to this evening’s entertainment. The boys make the short coach journey across town to Loftus Road to face Queens Park Rangers. We are at that point in the season where it doesn’t really matter who we play home or away, the points at the top of the table are so tight that we have simply got to keep winning and trust Man City to keep slipping up. Some people are getting excited at the battle taking place between us Liverpool and Man United for third place. Not me. Those other riff raff are below us in the table. I only look at the team directly in front of Arsenal and hope we can catch and overtake them. That is it and all about it. How else do you climb higher up the table? By staying ahead of the team beneath you? Nope. Bad maths that.

Having just said it doesn’t matter who the opposition is, it happens to be QPR so I suppose I ought to give you my usual in depth analysis. We are still second in the current form table and Rangers are eighteenth. So that’s that then. No need to worry about tonight’s result. Foregone conclusion. Move on nothing more to read here. Except of course for one rather significant fly in that particularly over confident ointment. QPR are in the mire of a relegation dog fight, an unseemly scrap with several other teams all convinced they can escape the noose. Their survival in the hallowed money sea of top flight English footy is at stake and they can’t be expected to go quietly. Some sides may fold with resigned despair when their season looks like it’s headed down the toilet but others rage against the dying of the light. Recent results may suggest that QPR already have one foot in the slough of despond but it may not be so, they might start their fightback at any moment, and as such we must be prepared for dogged resistance. Human nature dictates that people often strive their hardest when they’re backed into a corner.

I do believe we have enough spirit and bloody mindedness in our own squad to match anyone in the guts and determination department and of course our players possess skill and invention by the bucket load, so I remain as cautiously optimistic as ever. We saw the boys playing it a little bit safe on Sunday, the manager being experienced enough to know how to set up his team after a setback. Tonight I expect them to build on the blocks laid against Everton and go at QPR with a little more verve. Having said that if the men in blue and white elect to defend in depth then we may have to be patient. Patient, consistent, sensible and fair. Now that’s four better words for Arsenal fans, right?

Tags: Arsenal, Premier League, QPR, supporters Permalink

62 Comments

Bright, With Occasional Early Cloud

Posted by anicoll5 on March 2, 2015 in All Posts

Morning Positivistas from a greyish Monday in Norfolk.

I take your mood, like mine, will be a little more elevated this morning going into the week, buoyed by three points taken at the Ems, earned in fact through a combination of some resolute organised defending and two instances of hitting the back of the net when the half opportunity presented itself.

The media microscope and cameras were on Olivier but my eye was taken very much to our back five who I thought played a blinder.

Kosc was quite obviously in charge, directing, pointing, shouting and taking a necessary card. Never put a foot wrong all afternoon in spite of Everton’s front men trying to run straight and hard at us. Gibbs and Hector did their defensive jobs quietly, thoroughly, no fuss and very few errors. Ospina pulled off a couple of good stops and a timely intervention. Who says ‘keepers cannot be clever footballers too?

Our new centre back made his first PL start. Social media was its usual demented self, as Gabriel first made an error by misjudging the bounce, then a skewed header, at which point he had been written off as a worse signing than Mikel Silvestre. Then in the 37^th minute had performed a perfect retrieving tackle on Lukaku which may have turned the game. After that Gabriel had been anointed as the answer to all our previous defensive wobbles and poor old Per might as well pack his lederhosen.

Anyway to brighten your morning have one last look, before the PL insist it is taken down;

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihUPjkmE0A0

After those few opening flutters I thought our defenders played better and better as the game went on. Everton pressed and I was impressed with the quality of the crossing from their young Garbutt, but for all the pressing and puff at no time did I think we would crack and concede. Once we were ahead, the game was won.

Young Francis Coquelin may have a sore nose this morning but he has done himself no harm in gilding his reputation in the eyes of supporters (well this supporter anyway) for his willingness to battle on with a broken nose. There is talk of surgery which may rob us of him for at least the midweek game. My recollection of broken noses is however the insertion and deft twisting of steel rods to refashion the nasal sculpture which, although it will make his eyes water, should have him back on Wednesday. And he can wear a mask which, in my opinion, is an accoutrement that every young footballer should aspire to. The Telegraph captured the original coming together nicely.

I was not expecting a classic game, but a difficult contest against a side who came into the game on the back of a Euro win, but a poor domestic record. Just one win in twelve PL matches Mr Martinez is relegation form, and you know it. Everton would have been delighted with a point, even that though was never a likely outcome. It was not a sparkling performance from us, but intelligent, measured football. The sort of performance on which a successful run-in can be securely founded.

While Roberto may therefore be justifiably feeling a little sweaty at the collar this morning, our form, since mid December, is the best in the PL bar none. I was a bit surprised to see we had won 28 points from a possible 36. I had not realised we had been quite so effective. Amazing what happens when we have most (although not all) players fit and firing. If we kept that up over a season we would have 89 points.

Makes you think doesn’t it?

Enjoy yer week!!

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113 Comments

Fall Seven Times, Stand Up Eight

Posted by steww on March 1, 2015 in All Posts

“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”

― Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.

― Martin Luther King, Jr.

Positive anything is better than negative nothing.

― Elbert Hubbard

One of the biggest thrills in the life of a footy fan is riding the great spin cycle of renewal. We wake up on the morning after a disappointing result and even as the bitterness of memory steals over us spoiling the taste of our Honey Nut Loops there is already a tiny kernel of hope germinating somewhere deep beneath the scorched, blackened soil of our desires. By day two only the armchair experts, masochists and the terminally depressed are still picking over the corpse of their shattered dreams and by day three we are nearly restored to health. How does this happen? It’s a simple but wonderful alchemy. I am already unable to remember how I felt as I watched us unravel against Man City and Liverpool last season and yet I cannot hear more than four bars of Pharrell Williams singing Happy without being instantly transported back to those wonderful days in May. Every emotion from the final itself to the players and fans united outside the Emirates on that Sunday of celebration is imprinted in my emotional scrapbook and ready for me to access any time that I please.

Women apparently report a similar phenomenon in relation to the pain of childbirth. I’ve heard them say that the extraordinary discomfort is immediately forgotten while the joy remains with them forever. Now I’m not suggesting that losing or winning an important football match can be compared to the moment a mother brings new life into the world. Admittedly I have only been a spectator at either event and both look messy and hard work. I know for a fact the human race would have died out a long time ago if it was left to me and the rest of the men to do any of the real work. As my friend Jon said to me when asked if women should take pain medication during labour “I needed gas and air to get through the conception so it seems only fair”. Well quite.

I wouldn’t be without the misery of Wednesday night. Not for all the tea in Whittards. Don’t get me wrong I derive no perverse pleasure from spending weeks counting down to such a big night only to be left feeling sick, angry and bitterly disappointed but I do recognise the importance of that pain. It is the certain knowledge of how rancorous is the taste of defeat that makes our victories so much sweeter. It is, in short, much more exciting walking a tightrope over a hundred foot deep canyon filled with pointy sticks than walking one six inches from the surface of a child’s paddling pool. Experience tells us what is at stake prior to kick off and that is what makes the weaker among our support go to pieces before a shot is even fired. You only need look at the gibbering reaction to the announcement of the team line up before each and every match to see this phenomenon in full swing. But to those of us fortunate enough to have achieved a great and unlikely age that same experience tells us that the next game or indeed the next season is just around the corner and we can once again tie our happiness back onto the rail tracks of fortune. Sometimes we get rescued before the train comes. Sometimes not.

I think that’s more than enough from my big book of vaguely football related metaphors. How about we do a bit of what I’ve been talking about and actually look forward to today’s game. Firstly, don’t forget this is an old fashioned traditional five past two Sunday afternoon kick off so if you’d planned to be home from your trip to B&Q by four you need to start back-pedalling sharpish. There will be lots of tedious predictable tripe about wanting to see a response or a reaction to what happened on Wednesday night. Plenty of people will be trotting out the usual clichés ignoring the fact that players are conditioned to put the last game behind them and focus on the match in front of them regardless of recent results. It is an essential tenet of their training. Arsène may throw such bones to the walking brain dead in the press corps but when fans repeat the baloney they’re usually just projecting their own emotions onto the players. That is what makes them assume we’ll go into battle against Everton with our knees knocking in fear of a repeat disaster. What tosh. Olivier Giroud knows he isn’t suddenly a poor striker just because he had one bad day at the office. Per knows that if we’re chasing the game then pushing up and closing down the opposition before they can instigate a counter has worked too many times to mention. Just because it failed once on Wednesday night won’t affect the way he plays the game.

Everton come to the Emirates languishing in fourteenth place in the current form table with Liverpool top and us second. A glance at their last six results shows they almost always draw at home and usually lose away from Goodison. However their most recent away win was one nil at Selhurst Park and we know all too well what sort of mental and physical strength that kind of result demands so they will be no pushovers. We know Martinez likes his teams to play proper football, retain possession and move it intelligently. We also know they aren’t afraid to stick the boot in when things aren’t going their way. Having said that my exclusive sources tell me that Tony Hibbert may be missing for the game this afternoon so they might not be as brutal as in previous matches. In conclusion, while we can expect a decent footballing contest and while Arsenal are without a scintilla of doubt the better team we cannot assume this will be a walk over.

Before I go, let me explain the flurry of quotations at the beginning of this article. Football, it seems to me, is all about choices and that goes for us as well as the manager and players. We can’t choose the visceral reaction we experience in defeat nor the explosion of joy when Aaron scores the winner in a cup final but we all choose how we respond to those emotions. Anyone who goes into the rest of the season assuming we will lose in Monaco, fail to hold onto third place or progress past Man United in the FA cup is choosing to make those assumptions. No one knows the future. If I choose to believe we can succeed then that is my right so to do and if you choose not to then that is your right, but don’t pretend it isn’t a conscious choice you are making. None of the harbingers of doom have any divine prerogative to claim to live in the real world nor should they paint positive supporters as fantasists. They are making a choice, they are choosing despair and choosing to wallow in it. If I were one of them I’d have to ask myself why? Why assume the worst when you can just as easily assume the best? Why look at a game like the one we just endured and ignore anything the players did well and only focus on what the opposition did better or on where we tried but failed? Why get angry and sarcastic with fellow fans who continue to hope and support the team no matter what? Why send triumphant messages to me on Twitter when the opposition scores? Choice. Behave like that by all means but don’t pretend you are not choosing to do so. Once you accept that then you must accept that you can choose not to behave in such a craven, weak and despicable way.

Bob Wilson told us what makes a proper football fan. The people I think of when I listen to Pharrell Williams are the ones who have shared the laughter, smiles and tears with me over the years and never wavered. The ones who chose courage, who chose to stay firm, above all the ones who chose to support.