I was delighted when Arsene Wenger took the trouble to write me an email yesterday about the win over Wigan, the remaining Premier League fixtures and the battle for fourth place. He ended by saying: “We have been in this situation before and I think we have the focus, the quality, the spirit and the desire to achieve what we want.” It seemed somehow typical of him to take time out of his busy schedule to find such reassuring words for me, and it all contributed to the rosy glow that had enfolded me ever since Santi slotted that final penalty late on Saturday afternoon. However, his sentiments didn’t seem to have such a positive effect on Le Grove’s apostles, who were positively apoplectic this morning about the situation that The Arsenal find themselves in: indeed, the manager was openly mocked for his letter, and I guess the sad thing is that he always will be now by certain sections of the fan base, no matter what he achieves between now and whenever he decides it’s time to call it a day. What I did find interesting was the scorn that was poured on the Untold lot, and in particular the link made between those who support Arsene Wenger and those who hold any kind of religious faith: both positions were laughed loudly out of court as being quite ridiculous, it somehow not quite occurring that it was they themselves that had made the comparison.

But strangely their leaps of logic made me think of the following lines from Melville’s Moby Dick (and I wish I was mature enough not to find that funny).

“There, then, he sat, the sign and symbol of a man without faith, hopelessly holding up hope in the midst of despair.”

If, as I suspect, we have all felt like like that from time to time in our Arsenal journey, then how much more must the manager have felt like it in the aftermath of crushing defeats and unwanted embarrassments. But what else is there to do when all seems lost? You can’t just give up, so you might as well light your lantern and provide something for the crew to fix their gaze on in the hope that things might somehow seem better in the morning. However, right now I don’t find the Manager’s words at all empty: we are in a good position and are very far from despair – we have been here before, and if anyone doubted the spirit and desire then they should have had all doubts removed by the Wembley performance. There seems to be a common perception that 120 minutes and penalties will have left us spent, exhausted and not at all ready to take on West Ham. But the bookies don’t think that: we are 4/9 to beat them with as big as 7/2 the draw and any price you like on a real hammer blow to our Champion League credentials. And you can bet the manager and players don’t, and nor do I. I reckon that the burden of expectation pre-Wigan has been pretty intense for the team, and that has now been gloriously lifted. Expect to see us quick out of the blocks this evening, with Podolski, Rosicky and Giroud all particularly keen to stake their Cup Final claims. Jenkinson too, and Gibbs will provide fresh legs, while Kalstrom may also play, which will be interesting. I expect we won’t see quite see so much of Ramsey, Oxlade, Santi and Sanogo (my new favourite player), but they will be waiting in the wings, and I also expect that the manager will make at least one tactical decision that will surprise us all a little bit. For the first time for quite some time I am really looking forward to the game, and although I am sad that the Box Office wouldn’t let me purchase two tickets for it last week (you’re only a Red Member, Sir: more than my job’s worth to let you buy both), I shall be very much there, right in front of the TV, ready to do serious battle with anyone who says that this is a poor squad managed by a man who no longer knows what he is doing. I don’t need to believe in him: the stadium we are playing in is proof enough of his genius.

Once again this post was brought to us by @foreverheady .

“When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” Mark Twain.

In my more optimistic moments I like to think this is the crux of the matter with regard to the Arsene doubters, and there’s more than a little ageism around when it comes to some of the Twitter comments. Indeed, many of the Tweets and the Tweeters remind me of the child who is forever telling his parents how much better and cooler all of his friends’ parents are. All week I have been promised “Twitter meltdown” should The Arsenal come up short against Wigan, and have even seen pictures of nuclear explosions posted as a warning of the least that AW can expect should he fail to deliver on the Wembley stage. In fairness, that’s not such a bad metaphor: it’s clear that the nucleus of Arsenal support was split some time ago, and I can only hope that a top performance today, and then a string of good results in the League, will allow that energy to be harnessed in a positive manner.

There was a time in the Everton game last weekend when such positive hope seemed futile. As we moved the ball laboriously back and sideways we looked a far cry from the side that carried all before it through much of 2013, our defensive frailties and toothless attacks making me wonder if I would ever get my Arsenal back. It hardly seemed possible that this was the same team that had swept Napoli so imperiously aside back in October, but of course, the point is that it wasn’t the same team at all. It was a team that had been decimated by cruel fortune, and for a moment it seemed to have no answer when Sagna was cynically dispossessed deep in the Everton half before our defence conceded its second comedy own goal in little more than a week. It all seemed too much, it simply wasn’t fair, and no wonder than more than a few shoulders slumped.

But then something rather special happened as Ramsey and Oxlade entered the fray. Although both were on the injury comeback trail, and hence were never going to be risked for the full 90 minutes, they made a significant difference: the game had already gone, but they brought more than fresh legs to the side. Suddenly there was forward momentum, vision and pace. Even more importantly there was belief. Belief that this side was good enough, belief that individuals could make a difference, belief that the season wasn’t going to implode. More players are returning too: Gibbs is back, and Kos, Mesut and Jack are on the horizon. Their return could well see us back to something near our best, and remind us why this squad is on the verge of something special. Today is a big day for us all. For the manager, for the players, and for the fans. We all have a stake in it, and we have been looking forward to it ever since Santi scored that wonderful goal against Spurs at the very start of this cup run. Aaron Ramsey reminded us all last weekend that we do indeed have a reason to believe, and I for one can’t wait to see The Arsenal back at Wembley again.

So put away your doubts, and remember that we are by far the greatest team the world has ever seen.

Today’s post was brought to us by The Gnabster   @foreverheady

I have never done this before, and I doubt it will ever happen again, I haven’t asked our friend Mean Lean permissions so I hope he is not upset.

Everyone must read this  http://www.arsenalvision.co.uk/articles/4605-its-time-for-a-change.html   its by @The _Beck and its the  “Citizen Kane ” of blogs supporting the Club.

Is this as bad as it can be? Let us hope so, because if we are honest, it’s dire.

How did it come to this?

This was supposed to be a thing of the past, but sometimes you get the feeling that you are in some weird Matrix thing, on a torturous loop.

It feels like death by a thousand cuts. So let’s try to analyse the cuts.

Theo has started less than 10 PL games and yet despite never being fully up to speed, he has scored 5 goals and had a similar amount of assists. That’s a goal or assist in every game. Just imagine what a fully fit Theo would have done with Ozil feeding him through balls. That’s what we lost when Theo was stretchered off on the 4th of January. We didn’t know it at the time, but they were actually carrying off our title challenge on that stretcher.

Of course you could say we should have cover for him. Well ok, name me one player in the league with his skill set that we could have as a back up? No team has a Theo, let alone a back up Theo.

Our natural replacement/cover for Theo is Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, but he was out for the first half of the season and it’s a little more than hopeful to expect a returning 20 year old, with a career total of 5 PL goals, to fill the void.

Up until Xmas, we got away with it because we had a little bit of Theo, but we had a lot of Aaron Ramsey. In 18 PL games he had 8 goals and 6 assists. That though only tells a fraction of the story. He was the stand out player in the country, the best midfielder by a country mile. He was giving us a balance that we have not seen in the team for years. Tackles, interceptions, incredible distances covered and an almost unbelievable pass completion %. He seemed to understand Ozil better than anyone and it appeared that no matter who he played along side, it worked. Player of the month became no more than a formality for him, collecting it 5 times on the bounce.

BANG – 26th of December he limps off with a slight thigh strain and was not seen again for over 3 months. I can’t remember us playing to that standard since.

Jack Wilshere has had an in-and-out season. It’s been a struggle for him with more downs than ups. His fitness has been suspect which has affected his game. Anyway, when we needed him the most, BANG – out he goes.

Mesut Ozil, the finest number 10 in world football – he is an assist machine – but he needs runners to assist. Since Xmas he’s had none. Anyway BANG – out he goes.

Mikel Arteta and Tomas Rosicky (32 and 33 respectively) should be used sparingly, but due to injuries, they’re being asked to play every game and it’s showing on them. Particularly on Mikel.

Abou Diaby was due back before Xmas – hello, hello HELLO, Abou???? Nope no sign.

Flamini, he was to be cover for Mikel in the lesser games. Instead he has had to play with Arteta. Needs must, but the least said about that particular double pivot, the better.

So basically, since Xmas we have been left with an unbalanced team that’s shot at physically.

But there is worse to come.

It looks like they are mentally shot, too.

Back to the thousand cuts.

United away. Half the team struck down with some illness or other on the way to the match. Some sent home, others having to play half fit. We lost to a RVP shoulder loop in a game that the very least we deserved was a draw.

Ouch, that stung a little.

Manchester City away, we have to play with only two day’s rest following a European away game. Studies show that you have 50% less chance of beating anyone, let alone a fully rested City team on their own midden. Even then we had 2 goals incorrectly ruled off-side and a clear penalty denied. 6-3.

Ouch, quite a cut that one!

Liverpool away. Early goal conceded (off-side btw) and a goal from a corner.  Start chasing the game, holes everywhere, look foolish.

Ouch, that stung a lot.

So here we are now, stripped of confidence and knackered. Having to play with 6 first choice players missing and the rest running on empty.

Sort of explaining the present dismal run of form.

Of course along the way the manager and individual players will also have made mistakes, inflicting more little painful nicks.

People do, you know ?

Fortunately for Arsenal, the fan base has rallied around the team and will carry them to the end of the season on a wave a love and support.

BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT FANS DO?

RIGHT?

I lost my innocence in the summer of ‘77, the year that Elvis died. It wasn’t Elvis’s fault and it wasn’t that sort of innocence either. For that I’d have to take you to a seedy back-street in Singapore a few years earlier, but the less remembered about that the better, and it isn’t that sort of a blog anyhow: I’m told there are better sites that cater for those sorts of tastes anyhow. It rained a lot in ‘77, and there was a big storm in London on the 16^th August, the night the self-styled King of Rock and Roll passed away. I remember that because we were en-route from Chelmsford to West Drayton: we’d just played Essex, and were about to take on Middlesex. Oh the giddy heights of the County Second XI circuit, but we stopped to pay homage at the Hard Rock Café anyway, although as we were young we didn’t properly understand why grown men cried that night, the late summer storm mimicking their desperate tears as the last relic of teenage years washed away.

But it was some storm, and although the next day dawned fresh and clear, the ground we were playing at was almost underwater: no chance of play on the first day (and little chance for all three days, to be honest, but we persuaded the umpires that there might be) and so we turned to what we normally turned to, which that summer was Three-card Brag. We’d played for matchsticks and pennies most of the season, but that day one of our players Dad’s had turned up to watch, and rather than go straight home again he joined our card school. Brag’s a kind of boiled-down Poker, relying heavily on bluff and nerve: we’d had a lot of fun with it on rainy days, but it was never the same again after Barry joined in. He watched our small-stakes bravado for a few hands, and then suddenly went a Pound blind, dramatically raising the stakes and putting the game out of most of our reach. We couldn’t double our stakes to see him for long, and despite sitting on good hands, we knew it was time to fold. Self-made man that he was he couldn’t see the point of playing for fun or skill, even against us kids: winning was everything to him, and as with so much in his life, he bragged and bought his way to the prize. I remember thinking that there was another sort of game going on, not one that I understood or cared for, but somehow important to those that played it. It wasn’t cards, and it certainly wasn’t cricket, but it was money – and that playing the game of money seemed to trump everything for those that played it.

I saw the same thing happen with wine and horses too. Racing had always been a rich man’s pastime, but first Robert Sangster, then the Arabs and latterly the Coolmore gang soon saw that it didn’t need to be a game at all. Invest heavily enough in the right blood lines, and the glittering prizes would inevitably follow: what splutterings of righteous indignation there were as the former aristocrats of the Turf found themselves priced out of their own favourite game, reduced to mere bit-players and onlookers at Ascot, Epsom and Longchamp. They couldn’t even drown their sorrows properly either: heavy investment in Bordeaux and Burgundy had now left Fine Wine the preserve of the Far-Eastern super-rich, seduced by the glamour of the famous name labels. Only the best will do for them, apparently, which is why Chateau Petrus retails at over a Grand a bottle in the Hong Kong restaurants: that it is then openly diluted with Coca-Cola somehow only adding insult to injury, and causing my mate in the Wine Trade serious problems as he smiles through gritted teeth while all the time laughing on his way to the bank.

And it was only a matter of time before cricket and football went the same way down the money road. Kerry Packer and Tony Greig saw that a long time before the cricket establishment ever did, and their World Series altered the face of cricket and the way it was played once and for all. All changed, changed utterly, the terrible beauty of the T20 game and its offshoot leagues born the moment Channel 9 saw that stay at home Aussie punters would pay to watch great sport from the comfort of their sprawling suburban homes. Sky and the bookies followed hot on their heels, just as they did when they saw that football was ripe for a rebrand, and it is essentially the TV money that explains why a few gifted lads, barely out of their teens, boast Hampstead homes and toothsome cars. But something else and more exciting happened with football as it moved away from its working-class origins and lost its automatic association with violent thuggery. The clubs themselves became the latest must have fashion accessory for the uber-rich and what better way to parade your success than to own one. The likes of Jack Walker showed what could happen when you suddenly take over and throw money at an under-achieving club: the Leeds and Portsmouths of the world showing the dangers of such an approach.

Because that is the danger for the high-rollers: you might raise the stakes, but you can never be quite sure if someone with more money might one day join the game and trump you by going “an oil-well blind”. Abramovich saw the possibilities, and for a while his spending made all the difference: indeed, he turned the game on its head for a while, partly to posture, but also perhaps to launder a reputation. But what a transformation in no time at all for that club: the greatest players in the world flocked to his side, and it seemed as if his dominance would be absolute. Except for three reasons, and they are worth looking at for a moment. Sport is unpredictable, and although friendly officials might influence a game, results can never be guaranteed: luck will play its part, and that capricious madam can never be wholly owned. Players, though dearly bought, still need to play, to be organised, to be motivated – and sometimes if they have already had great success elsewhere, their new huge salaries can take the edge of their hunger. It is not every manager that can cope with the combination of ego and slight lethargy, nor perhaps with the potential for interference from the wealthy owner. How irritating it would be if you felt obliged to play an out of form striker in a vital tie, for instance. And thirdly, and Arsene Wenger noted this many months ago now, there is an increasing pool of high quality players due partly to the success of new European coaching initiatives and partly to the shrinking of the world, leading to African and South American players more readily available. However many players you might buy to send out on loan, you can’t own them all, and the properly competitive nature of this year’s Premiership is proof of that.

There will be few who didn’t enjoy the delicious irony of Chelsea moaning about PSG’s expenditure earlier this week, and even fewer true Arsenal supporters who didn’t see the home draw against the City oil-slickers (achieved by our virtual second team) as a cause for due rejoicing. Make no mistake, the events of the last week show the footballing landscape shifting yet again. For a while, it did seem that the game was indeed all about the money, and that like those poor cricketers back in the 70s, there would be little point in trying to compete against brash new cash. But Barry had a heart attack not long after, and I suspect Jose is already uncomfortably aware of his owner’s displeasure. Barca are in trouble, and it’s a china orange to the whole of Lombard Street that a legion irregularities will be exposed elsewhere. More bankruptcies will follow as owners withdraw their support (you’d worry about Cardiff, Fulham and QPR right now), and as night follows day well run clubs like The Arsenal will continue to thrive as the post-cash injection football world becomes all shook-up. They say that cynics know the price of everything but the value of nothing – but Arsene knows that without holding on to proper values everyone will have to pay a terrible price. We were lucky to have him at the helm for the first few years of his managership – but truly blessed to have had him steer the ship for the last few when it got really difficult. And as Elvis might have said to him, our success, our stadium and our future prospects are all down to the wonder of you

Today’s post came from The Gnabster @foreverheady, give him a follow, you wont regret it.

Arsene’s contract situation is becoming a concern to me. I believe it is a mistake to leave us all in limbo in this way.

From what we are led to believe, there is an offer of extension on the table, just waiting for him to put pen to paper. There is speculation as to its length and to the amount he will be paid. We will, if he signs, be told the the former whilst the latter will as ever be left to speculation. Personally I hope its for at least 4 years and at any price, salary wise.

Others will hope that he does not sign at all. That’s fine, people are free to wish for what they like. If someone genuinely thinks its in the best interests of the club, then they should indeed want a change. I suspect however that its more in their own best interest to have him leave as they have invested so much emotion in wanting silverware and bragging rights.

At 64 years old it could be that the burden of being the main man at an ever growing mega club is taking its toll. We know he has more influence over ever part of the club than any other manager at any other club. Some, like me, are happy with this, other not so, but regardless , its a consideration. I cant imagine there being  any dilution of responsibilities, so will he be up to it for another term ?

Its clear that the board want him to stay, but are the putting all either eggs in one basket ? Do they have a plan B ?

I expect to see a director of football and a head coach as his replacements, have they identified those people ? Will they have tested the waters ? They should have, but we just don’t know.

What do the players think ? Are contracts being agreed on the understanding that Arsene will stay, or are they going to feel betrayed (like our old friend RVP)  if he leaves ?

Its clear now ( as if it ever wasn’t ) that Arsene agreed to stay and lead the club through a prolonged period of austerity. There was much less money than we were led to believe. Surely having gotten us to this point Arsene will want to reap the benefits of his endeavours?  WONT HE ?

This squad is built in his image. With a couple of top class additions and the incremental improvements of the young players, this team could be special. However, I believe Arsene is vital to it being able to make the final leap.

One way or another, we the fans, deserve to know, and know now.

You either believe in this team – or you don’t.

You either believe Arsene is still a great manager – or you don’t.

I do, but I have to admit  my faith has been tested of late.

In the context of what has gone before, yesterdays performance  was truly exceptional. So lets take a moment to set the scene.

Last week we were embarrassed and humiliated by Chelsea. Humbled by the least humble manager on the planet, and on the occasion of Arsene’s 1000th game,of all days.

On Tuesday we played with the handbrake on and a parachute open and dragging us back. To top it all we scored the most unfortunate own goal in injury time that saw us drop another two points.

Having failed to buy a really world class striker in the last three windows( for whatever reason ) our good striker looks to be running on empty with lead boots having just finished 40 Capstan full strength before kick off.

The depth of our midfield has been tested with long term injuries to 3 or 4 definite starters, including our most dynamic  ( The Prince of Wales)  and our world class and record transfer  play-maker ( Ozil ). The most pacey of pacey players is out for the season  and the best central defender in the league has joined them on the treatment table.

Mikel (aged 32) and Tomas (aged 33) who should be being saved for special occasions, are being asked to play every game. And to be fair,in Mikel’s case at least, it is telling.

So, after 19 minutes we go a goal down against the most expensively assembled team in history, having been comprehensively out played until then, and for the remained of the first half.

Be honest, were you fearing the worst ? I was.

What happened next was everything and more that we could have asked for.

Mental strength, resilience, fortitude and togetherness.

To turn the game around under those circumstances was almost unbelievable.

Make no mistake, we were by far the better team in the second period, and in the end unlucky not to take all 3 points. It was a terrific effort and our lads did themselves and us proud.

I love these players but also accept that there are some obvious weaknesses in the team. However, when they show character and skill like that, I can forgive them anything.

I am proud of every one of them. And proud of the Gooners that have stuck by them in the most difficult of times.

I was asked a simple and fair question on twitter some time ago by Andy Wood ‏@yorkshiregunner .

“Tell me George, will you still support Arsenal when Arsene leaves?”

(As people continue to misquote my reply here again  is the blog I wrote about it)

Now I understand that it was a snide question, a loaded question, designed to suggest that Arsene was more important to me than the club. I knew that before I answered with this:

 Not for 100% sure.  It would be hard to think I won’t.  But I could stop. It’s like a marriage for me, not a family. If you follow?”

This of course was immediately interpreted to mean: “I will stop supporting if Arsene leaves.”  Just as I had anticipated!

People then started screaming that one’s support for the club should be unconditional.  “ARSENAL TILL I DIE!!”

And all the other soundbites people use.

Then they saw fit to state the obvious with gems like:

 “No one is bigger than the club.” 

No shit Sherlock, I had missed that.

As the Twitter exchange continued, I tried to explain that I could not guarantee always supporting the club, because if it changed into something different to that I was in love with, it would no longer be my club.

This concept seemed beyond the comprehension of a few, and some claimed that NOTHING could make them withdraw their support.  Ever.

There’s an irony here, in case you hadn’t already spotted it …

So I came up with the most outrageous scenario I could think of, just to test their ‘position’ and asked if they would still support the club if the following occurred:

The club is bought by the English Defence League and all our players are sold, only white heterosexuals are allowed to play for the club. Do you still support?

Almost every right thinking person would say:

“No, it’s a stupid scenario, but no.”

My point being that ALL support is conditional. It’s just the conditions that are required to be met are different, and they vary from person to person.

What some people fail to understand is that “the club” means different things to different people.

My definition of “the club” includes the playing style, its class, history and integrity.  The manager, board and players are a large part of that. The whole ethos of the club is what I regard “the club” to be.

Someone told me that “the club” to him was the badge, and that is what he supported. He didn’t mention whether the badge in question was cotton or man-made, so I reserved my judgement on him.

But, nonetheless, for him, the definition of the club was different.

My main point in all of this is that regardless of your personal definition of what the club – or anything you have fallen in love with – is, if that thing you fell in love with, changes to the degree where they or it becomes something or someone you would never have originally fallen for, then it is ENTIRELY possible to fall back out of love.

And this patently includes, even, one’s own chosen football club.

Now, if you are happy to support a club, fuelled by petro-dollars, managed by a hoof-ball specialist or filled with players like Barton, Suarez, Terry, Savage, Cole and Rooney – then great. But I would find it hard to continue that support, ultimately, even if that club was my beloved Arsenal.

It would be a gradual deterioration of the relationship between me and the club, but given the perfect (and frankly unlikely) storm, I COULD stop supporting.

There has been a lot of  “I want my Arsenal back” going around in recent times.

Well, I personally want to keep THIS one.

These people that claim to ‘want their Arsenal back’ are effectively saying this current Arsenal is not “their” club.

Effectively, they’ve withdrawn their support already.

This is evidenced by their relentless attacks on the club and it’s staff – on Twitter, in blogs, on radio phone-ins etc.  Those individuals who have given up their season ticket have clearly withdrawn their support.  They are, as a result, no longer proper pucka Gooners are they?

The anger evident in their remarks is quite possibly driven by the pain they are feeling from losing their love for the club.

Well, maybe they ARE still Gooners.But they have simply come to a point where their support has been withdrawn. Do they watch on TV instead? Or has that been given up too?  Have they stopped reading the papers? Do they no longer talk about Arsenal?

If they are still Gooners, it’s clear that bit-by-bit they are losing – or have lost – their love for the club as the conditions that led them to support in the first place are no longer seemingly evident.

For THEM, at least.

Now people can say that they are better fans than me because they have supported longer, spent more money, attended more games, live in the area of the ground or because nothing could stop them supporting.  I won’t argue.

I certainly won’t care what they think either.Because they can claim all day long that they are the ‘real’ supporters of the club. But the reality, actually, is that they are drifting away from the club with every attack they launch.

***

Finally someone said:

“Morals in football are bollocks.”

To which I replied:

“Morals are only ever bollocks to those without them.”

I however ,am the last person to judge people on their morals.That does not mean they are any less important.