Part one of a two-part guest post from Poznan In My Pants (PIMP).

The Charms of Criticism

There is a lot to be said for criticism.

It is necessary, even essential.  I’m all for it, myself.  I love a spot of considered, knowledgeable, criticism.  But a bottomless sea of criticism leads to negativity.  Isn’t it funny that no one wants to be labeled as “negative?” What does that tell you about excessive criticism?  They all want to be known as realists.  And I don’t blame them, because negativity is cancerous to the human spirit.

(Ultimately, this is actually a post about the NextGen Series though it will take me until the second part of this article to get to it).

But criticism, measured criticism that is, is positive, up to a point.  When my (hypothetical) wife criticizes me I always strive to embrace the experience so as to become a better man.  Surrrrre I do.  On the other hand, when I get a continuous stream of criticism from my (hypothetical) wife, I just shut it off.

Some feel that staying positive in tough times is just having your head in the sand.  One person in particular chastises Gooners for accepting mediocrity while having their head in the sand.  I’m amazed he can see, from where he has his own head stuck.  (He must have taken a breather at some point to have a look around.)

I shared a train with him once, from Birmingham to London.  It stopped at Leamington Spa, among many other stations along the way.  “Oh, cool, I used to live here.” I said.  He replied, “You’re excited about Leamington Spa when we’re on this train to get to London?  Absolutely typical.  Settling for mediocrity again.”  I sighed.

The Positivity Ratio 3:1

The do-ers in life are generally very positive.  Studies show a ratio of between 3 and 11 positive thoughts to every one negative thought (ie between 3:1 and 11:1) leads to action, creativity, solution finding, being open to ideas and being empathetic to others, and most importantly, enjoying your life.  And by extension, it leads to having the wherewithal to actually make things better: the ability to find creative solutions, the ability to understand others and bring them together, and the energy to actually do something about it.  It has been rigorously studied.  As you all know, it’s what we do in America.  We study shit.

Note: You have to get above 11:1 to start being dysfunctionally delusional.  There is plenty of head-room here, guys.  You’re not even close.

So, excuse me if I am slow to join you, Debbie Downer.

But A 1:1 Ratio Is Still Good, Right?

Many would look on a 1:1 ratio as simply being “realistic,” but even that ratio can leave you in a rut of inactivity, complaining, with a narrowed and bleak view of possible solutions and outcomes.  This may be counter-intuitive to you that 1:1 is not good.  But remember, it is saying that every second thought you have is a criticism.  How would you like to be married to that?  On the other hand, it certainly explains why being a so-called realist is still code for being depressing.  If these “realists” suggest action, it tends to be of the “burn it down” variety, with a distinct air of blameyness.  That’s why so many of today’s solutions for Arsenal tend to involve getting rid of people – players, manager, owners etc., or on a good day, buying new players (which is also code for getting rid of people.)  In manufacturing they champion Continuous Improvement Methods, which are apparently more effective than the alternative “Burn It All Down And Start Again” methods of manufacturing improvement.

So if 1:1 is not particularly good, imagine what a Gooner who has a 1:5 or 1:10 ratio does to himself and to those who have to listen to him.  “Oh, but I’m just being realistic.  You’ve all got your head in the sand and are settling for mediocrity.  Whereas I’m just the man to criticize us all the way back to the top of Europe.”

In all seriousness, I try to apply the 3:1 ratio in life.  And it’s challenging, really, really challenging.  But it changes everything when you manage it.  And I will grant you that Arsenal doesn’t make it any easier at the moment.  But Arsenal is a great subject to practice on.  And from there it could change your life.

Humans run on positivity.  Positivity and optimism don’t stop you from wanting and demanding improvement, they tend to empower you.  It’s the fuel for making things better.  Negativity is the fuel of the armchair critic, and it tends to lead to views like “they’re all shit: the team, the manager, the board and the owner.  The problems go right to the core of the club.  We’ve been heading down hill for X years in a straight line.  This was inevitable.”

We don’t get to pick the team, select the tactics, sign new players, hire a new manager or find a new owner, though you wouldn’t know that based on the angry debates we inflict upon each other.

We do get to support the team.  We do get to cheer or boo.  We get to encourage our fellow supporters, or to depress them by painting scenes of seemingly impending apocalyptic nightmares.

So, if you really want to show that you want to win and that you won’t settle for mediocrity, cheer the beejaysus out of every moment that an Arsenal player is on the field instead.  Let them sense your ambition from the roar.  No one will be under the illusion that you don’t have ambition.  Oohing and gasping and grumbling when it’s not going well doesn’t help to communicate ambition: it just tells the players that you’ve lost belief in them.

I was at a few matches in St. Etienne when I was in France, and fuck me, they knew how to support their team.  Winning, drawing or in particular losing, they chanted and sang their lungs out all game long.  They had a song or chant for everything.  What they were singing, I have no idea.  Perhaps they had a chant for “You’re all mediocre and you’re showing no ambition” but it did seem to be more uplifting than that.  Who knows?

Of course the football culture in both countries is completely different.  But don’t tell me it’s against the law for the Emirates to cheer more.  We’ve all seen the Emirates rocking when Arsenal had their backs to the wall against Barca.  It was even pretty good against Bayern for most of that game.  A little Battle of Britain spirit is required for these next matches.  Screw the performance and the score.  Scream your lungs out regardless.

For now and the near future, the team is the team, the squad is the squad, and for this and another season, the manager will be the manager.

There is nothing wrong with those supporters who choose to look at the positives, and continue to look for improved fortunes.  It is for their own good, for the good of those around them, and for the good of this team and manager.

I’d like to dedicate this post to Anna Lvova, @madruskigunner, one of the joys of twitter, as well as her wonderful @AFCphotobank account which might be my favourite thing on twitter.   You can find me on Twitter @posnaninmypants.  Part two of this post will appear on Positively Arsenal later this week.

Sorry  folk .The three possible posts I had lined up for today have not materialised .If one does I will publish it latter on.Sorry about that ,but for new readers here is another look at an old item.Sorry again.

 Is it just me or are others infuriated by ignorance and stupidity?

Now I don’t blame people who are stupid, simply because they are.  I mean they are born stupid.  Nobody chooses to be an idiot.  Mostly they can’t help it.  Such is life.

No, what annoys me is that some stupid people insist on thinking they are smart.  And smart to the extent that they know more about a given subject than a top professional.

Of course this likely happens in all manner of activities, but I want to talk about football – and Arsenal in particular.

I am told all the time “I am entitled to an opinion”.

Of course when I claim that in that case, I am entitled to hold the opinion that they are idiots, that same ‘entitlement’ doesn’t appear to hold true for me.

If an opinion is formed from a position of almost total ignorance or built on falsehoods and misinformation, what is it worth?  It is in fact worth less than nothing.  I would prefer to hold no opinion on matters, rather than one which proves I am a foolish halfwit.

If I have a heart complaint I’d go to see a specialist heart Consultant.  If he tells me I am in decent health and half an Aspirin per day and some light exercise will see me well would I then insist that I need a quadruple bypass simply because my plumber mate down the pub says that’s what I need?

Or if I read a blog by an accountant in which he insists he has strong opinions on the matter, and I should therefore accept what he is saying, would I?

No!

Well why does anyone who watches a football match and follows Piers Morgan on twitter think that they know better than Arsene Wenger?  The reality is that in all likelihood, Doris the Tea Lady knows more about football and Arsenal than them.  I get told “I am a season ticket holder, 30 years of watching Arsenal, that entitles me to an opinion.”  Well I have been watching Westerns for 50 years but I would not presume to tell John Ford how to direct one.  (I know he is dead by the way.)

Buying a ticket entitles you to nothing more than a seat and a game to watch.  It does not buy you the right to pick the team, choose formations or set tactics.

If someone tells me the world is flat, I don’t feel the need to debate the subject with them.  There could be only two reasons they believe that.

Complete stupidity.  Or ignorance.

Ignorance can be excused.  But if they have been told the facts and shown the evidence, ignorance can be excluded and stupidity is all that is left.  So when someone says something like “Wenger does not understand defence” they immediately fall into the stupid category.  And they should not complain when I tell them that they are a moron.

Or when people insist that Arsene has refused to spend money.

Again, idiot.

The annual accounts over the past 10 years prove there has been no money.  Arsene has said there has been no money.  So if they are going to ignore the facts then they can only be stupid. There is no alternative.

The biggest problem is not people like bloggers claiming to understand things that they clearly don’t.  There will always be people who hugely overestimate their knowledge and intellect.  No, the problem is the masses of ill-informed halfwits that accept and repeat as fact, the opinions of these leaders of opinion.  Hitler was not the problem.  It was the millions of followers he attracted that was the problem.

Some want-to-be manager writing a blog about Arsenal is not the problem.  It’s the pathetic halfwits that believe that what he is saying has some real value, who are the problem.

People claim to know why Mata did not sign for Arsenal, for example. When in fact they have no idea at all the reasons for him going to Chelsea.

Here is the thing.

I have opinions about players, formations and tactics.  Ask me on a Saturday morning to pick the team and I will have a go.  But the difference is that by Saturday teatime, if we have lost I won’t claim it was because the manager was too stupid to pick the team that I did.

Pointing to an outcome and claiming it would have been better if your advice had been heeded Is nothing but evidence of your own arrogance and stupidity.

I really can’t understand why so many people believe that their one field of excellence is football and Arsenal.

But I can understand why they infuriate me with their ignorance and stupidity.

You can railroad George on Twitter @blackburngeorge

I let the mask slip at work yesterday. Friday, three minutes away from going home and the frankly fuckwitted semi evolved attitudes of my work colleagues finally got to me and I fear I bared my fangs. To be fair I’ve coped day in day out for six long desperate years and rarely if ever have I given vent to my true feelings. Without wishing to be self indulgent about the blog for which I’m writing, I want to talk about why this place is so important to me. Hey – there’s bugger all football to talk about so we can chat about the peripherals, the blogs or newspaper columns or broadcast media we like or dislike, can’t we?

When so much of one’s existence both personal and professional is spent tolerating other people who’s opinions make you piss razor blades and who you could cheerfully eviscerate without a backwards glance it is vital to have safe places where you can go and let out the steam. I had a cycling buddy who put up with me about as well as I did he and we would burn off calories and excess rage as we tore up the countryside each Sunday morning. It did me good. I have similarly over the years found people who share my love of certain bands or comedians or, as in your case, football.

The arrival of the internet was like a beneficent God smiling down on his creation and saying “Here, you don’t have to wait to read about your team in the paper or hope they will be featured on Match Of The Day. You can pick and choose blogs dedicated to The Arsenal and read about the team every day. I support them too you know” and we could. Suddenly we could find people who liked not just the same sport but the same team. But as with other great ideas God took his eye off the ball and left a serpent in the garden. Or an apple. Or something. In any case the blogs went wrong and rather than being a place to be yourself and relax after wearing the disguise at work all day or pretending to care about whatever your neighbour was waffling about, they became combative. We went there to fight the malcontents or adopt a semi neutral peace keeping pose and attempt not to ruffle too many feathers.

This is why Positively Arsenal has become so important. I can be me here. I don’t water down the message or put up with people I’d rather poke with a sharpened stick. And one of the things PA has set its sights on is not disappearing down the path of so many other blogs. We won’t offer the manager tactical advice. We won’t ape the print media. And we won’t just repeat the Boss’s press conference when there’s nothing else to write about. We will be honest and tell it from the heart.

So now of course I’m in a quandary. Saturday morning and absolutely no football to talk about. What to do? It’s a little early for a Bayern preview and I’m buggered if I’ll talk about the FA Cup when we’re not even in it. I could write about Bristol Rovers six pointer away to Chesterfield. Like many of you I have a second or ‘local’ team and regularly watched Rovers when they lost their stadium in Bristol and played down the road in Twerton Park. But this is Positively Arsenal and so I doubt you’d give a monkeys. The fact is that blogs, whilst seeming like a gift from God at first, are actually a part of the malaise of the modern sports fan. There used to be such a break from football every summer that you had the most incredible sense of anticipation and excitement when the season began anew every autumn. There were minor withdrawal symptoms for the first couple of weeks but really by the time the FA cup had been lifted you were ready for a break. Now we discuss the team, their prospects, the season past, the players the endless bloody pointless transfer speculation right through the summer and watch the pre season and never ever let the thing rest and I believe it is sucking the life out of the game.

And yet here we are like junkies gathering around an empty crack pipe because that’s the closest we can get to a fix. Any blog will die without daily postings. People need to know it’s there and that they can meet up and chat. Like a pub that opens and closes sporadically and will soon find people drink somewhere they can actually rely upon being open, a blog needs to be fresh and new and filled with stuff every single day. Even when there’s actually next to nothing to talk about. What do we do folks? This is your blog, how can we meet your voracious appetites for Arsenal related verbiage and yet not end up in a dead horse / flogging scenario? Because I need this place to be open for business. I need a retreat from the daily panto into a world of reality and I don’t want this golden egg laying goose to be found dead one day.

OK OK sorry, I promised not to be self indulgent and then look what happened. So for those who want a proper blog with up to date news and opinions here’s both.

NEWS: They arrested and charged the banana guy. You might say we need to stamp out any missile throwing from the crowd and you might say, it was a bloody piece of fruit for Christ’s sake.

OPINION: I can see both sides.

NEWS: Benik Afobe has torn his cruciate. Which is such a bastard of a thing to happen. Twenty years old and a very promising player.

OPINION: I neither blame Millwall, the loan system nor the Arsenal medical staff.

NEWS: Our chairman, when asked about the media story of a takeover is quoted as saying “It all seems a bit of a waste of time,”.

OPINION: It all seems a bit of a waste of time.

NEWS: Grandson of Arsenal footballer Denis Compton scores first test century against New Zealand while everyone but Mel was asleep.

OPINION: I thought he was South African?

NEWS: My Mikel Arteta sticker fell off my PC earlier and it stuck to my jumper and I don’t understand the significance. If there is any significance:

OPINION: A 49 year old man shouldn’t be collecting stickers.

NEWS: A military force from an alien planet has landed in the Emirates car park and is resupplying its beachhead with big flashy light covered spaceships.

OPINION: That’s enough news now.

George Rodger seeks out the road best traveled in today’s route map to footballing happiness.

If football is like a religion, then it’s little wonder that people are losing their belief, their faith and ultimately, their way.

Now I am not a religious man.  I am no theologian.  In fact Doctor Sheldon Cooper likely has more faith than me.  But I am pretty sure that the idea is not that you expect your God to make you happy and provide you with an existence that suits you expectations.  Sadly though that appears to be exactly what your average Arsenal fan expects from the club.

They buy tickets, wear the latest replica shirts and maintain subscriptions to Arsenal Player.  Surely that means the club has a duty to make them happy?  I mean this is a big investment we fans have here.  A great deal of time and money is spent supporting the club.

It’s a huge commitment on our part.

Where are the returns on our personal investments?  We don’t invest like this so as some cheeky Chav from the King’s Road can snigger at us in the pub and make us feel like second-class fans.

Oh no!

We deserve much better than that after all we have done for Arsenal.

But ask yourself.

What exactly have you done for Arsenal?

By “Arsenal” I don’t mean the stadium, team or board.  I mean the institution.  The whole package.  Everything and everyone connected  to the club.

But some people blame the club for their unhappiness.  For them, their unhappiness is the fault of Arsene, Stan or even, this week or maybe last week, some poor Ivorians.  And they should bloody well know how they are not meeting our expectations.

Well here is the thing – it is actually your own fault.

Everyone should look to themselves.  Instead of demanding that the club makes your life better, try making your own life better.

You can do this by simply enjoying the football.   And helping others to enjoy it.

It must be better if, as human beings, we channel our efforts into making life happier for those people at the club rather than trying to make them miserable.  If you are concentrating on bringing misery to others, booing at the ground, making banners designed to hurt people, or ‘just’ abusing other fans who only want to enjoy the team and the game, what does that say about you as a human being?

We should attempt to be positive with our efforts, and make those around us and at the club happier.  Not try to bring them to their knees because we want more for ourselves.  The easier we make it for the manager, players and club to do their jobs to the best of their ability, the more we will all benefit.

So why not try being responsible for the happiness of others rather than demanding that they meet your individual needs?  Life is what you make of it, but presently it seems to me that some are determined to make it miserable for others.

Lets help the club – and each other – by supporting the club rather than trying to destabilize it.

Take a trip along Happy Street and choose the ‘high’ road rather than the ‘my’ road.

See where you end up; you might just surprise yourself.

You can catch George in the fast lane on Twitter @Blackburngeorge

Many Arsenal fans allowed themselves a brief moment of schadenfreude at Old Red Nose and the karmic nature of his exit from the European Cup. Or whatever they call it these days. OK so some people went beyond the briefest moment of schadenfreude and into a full orgy of delight. Given their history of benefiting from atrocious refereeing decisions and the Purple Veined One’s reaction to a shopping list of favourable, erm, ‘mistakes’, who can really blame anyone for at least a smirk? Anybody need a particularly pertinent example? How about when Eboue got sent off for bumping into Patrice Evra. Seems that the old fart thought that was a perfectly acceptable decision at the time, so he can’t really complain about what happened on Tuesday night can he? Obviously he was disappointed at being beaten and Maureen seemed disappointed at beating him if his post match comments are to be believed but there wasn’t anything to play for after Sunday anyway.

Surely both managers were aware that the result last night ceased to matter once The Spuds had been crowned kings of the solar system in perpetuity. Hanging on by your fingernails for an undeserved home win by the odd goal has by universal acclaim become reason enough to proclaim them The Lords of the North London, England, The World and all galaxies known and unknown to man and woman kind. They have a player who only Messi is the equal of and the balance of power has now firmly shifted in their favour. Yep, after only one result decades of football history can now be consigned to the dustbin.

It has been a comical week to sample the sports media in this country. And bear in mind that the Spud love in isn’t merely an Arsenal fan obsession, I’ve read similar complaints from supporters of other clubs without our specific axe to grind. “Why “one Liverpool fan asked on twitter “do we all have to love Spurs now?” Why indeed ? Beats the shit out of me. Also why, when I drove back on Tuesday night after thankfully missing the football, did I make the mistake of turning on the car radio? BBC 5 live had all the characteristics of one of those communist television stations playing sombre music 24 hours a day on all channels because the great dictator had just died. The outrage and grief was still pouring out when I hopped in behind the wheel the following morning. Have they been up all night, I wondered? Whining and wringing their hands over Real Madrid’s dastardly impudence in getting the last great British representative knocked out of Europe. Forget that once more we are still in the competition and they are out of it. That didn’t merit a mention. No, it was as if ManUnited TV had taken over the BBC. I know we moan about perceived injustices against our great club, but we’re fans, a one eyed bias is entirely natural and in fact precisely how things should be. But why was Nicky Campbell so terribly distressed that the team from the land of Corrie got beaten? Again, it beats me.

One Manure fan said yesterday that we as Arsenal fans have a collective screw loose because we always try to make every issue about us. I pondered on this comment for a while, wondering if maybe there was a grain of truth to the accusation. “Same old Arsenal” as the terrace chant goes, “always appropriating events more properly pertaining to supporters of other clubs and seeing them through the prism of an Arsenal perspective” Doesn’t really scan that, but it is interesting to hear a different complaint about us as supporters. We always make everything about us. The point was swiftly made that for them to complain about poor refereeing after all the help they’ve had against us in the past is certain to make Arsenal fans at the very least blow a raspberry. But it’s more than that. It’s more than the old ‘We’re all affected by poor decisions and as such all have a vested interest when officials get it wrong’ line.

When you really think about it the simple unvarnished truth is we are absolutely 100% bound to make it all about us. I only care about Arsenal football club. When you boil it down if there is a sporting story and it cannot be in some way made relevant to AFC, well, frankly my dear,  I don’t give a hoot. This how the thought process goes:  Lance Armstrong? I’m pretty confident Arsene wouldn’t tolerate drug taking in fact didn’t he just call for mandatory blood tests? See? It’s that simple. Bloke breaks world diving record ? Yeah right just like that fat cheat Rooney when he dived to rob us in match #50.

Think for a minute of the hideous alternative to us making it all about us. We would have to sit and discuss the relative merits of players from other clubs. To do that with the slightest degree of accuracy we’d have to build a foundation of knowledge about them and to do that we’d have to watch them play. A lot. I wouldn’t want to trot out media fed clichés about a club, its manager or playing staff and so would need to really study them in order to form valid opinions. Well I don’t know about you but I have enough of a problem keeping up with the Arsenal first team squad, not to mention maintaining tabs on the upcoming youngsters, to have the time or energy to start compiling dossiers on footballers from elsewhere on the off chance that they might make the news. Talking of youngsters what about Nico Yennaris interception dribble and volleyed goal in the Next Gen yesterday. That was all the more incredible considering he was wading waist deep against the tide when he did it. We’ve not seen much of Nico since his brief flurry of appearances in the first team but I still think we have a great young player on our hands there.

Which kind of ties in with my main point. It’s like when the transfer tittle tattle starts up and I’m left adrift bobbing on the speculation ocean. It’s partly because I don’t care until a deal is done, can’t be wasting time speculating on speculation. But it’s also partly because I’m far more interested in watching the development of our own youngsters, about whom I actually know a little bit, than I am in discussing players from other clubs who I only see when we play against them. I’m always bewildered how people know so much about this transfer target or that brilliant young championship player. Unless or until they play for Arsenal they don’t actually exist in any real sense. They’re just a scattering of pantomime villains, gits and vaguely remembered faces for the most part.

You see it’s simple for me.  I don’t need to make the news about us. It really is, and really always has been, all about Arsenal.

This is the final post and conclusion to a series of posts on Arsenal’s ownership by Akash (@Gooner_optimist). If you missed them, do take a look at Part 1 and Part 2 as they both lead up to this post.

To answer the MAIN question that I’ve been coming to in my series of posts, why not Usmanov? Why is the board so against his appointment to the executive board and takeover of the club?

At the moment, Usmanov has portrayed himself as some kind of savior to the Arsenal fans with his well or ill timed (depending on your view) public statements questioning the board’s ambition and stating what fans want to hear about “winning” “best players” “trophies”. He portrays himself as the hero, the one who is making the fans widely believe that he alone can put us on an equal platform along with Chelsea and man city.

A superficial view of these statements would make it seem like he’s just another well -wisher who only wants what we want and without explicitly stating it, promises to give it. But these also make me wary of him as these promises come from a position where he doesn’t have to keep them. It seems like a long winded political manifesto that gets someone elected but never really gets executed. Before I say anything further about that though, who exactly is Alisher Usmanov?  What is his back ground?

For that I would like to dig deep into his history and the link I provide here has VITAL information on the Oligarch.. But to just put it in brief, the article exposes the murky history including doing time for non-political reasons (though he claims otherwise and managed to get his record expunged with the aid of friendly leadership). The article also exposes his strong connections with certain unsavoury types. Now we haven’t declared anything outright here because for one we can’t really compete with his fancy PR and legal team who have a reputation of going after any site daring to say anything against him which to this author just lends more credence to the veracity of such claims. His PR team has even allegedly gone to the extent of having his Wikipedia entry modified to remove information about his murky past and freedom of speech related issues and replace it with his philanthropic deeds. But even the Times, who uncovered this change haven’t been spared considering their web article on this is “subject of a legal complaint”. You can access a clipping of it here though on @AngryofN5’s blog. Noble indeed.

Now is this the kind of person you would want to run your club?  Well you can counter me by telling that his personal life is of no concern and we shouldn’t really bother about that, when he is more than willing to invest in the club. Well here is the twist in the tale. This man who claims that he wants to take Arsenal to the next level clearly has cast doubts in my mind about his intentions.

One of the fears often expressed by most that are against the board is that they’re taking a share of the profits. Oddly enough, there is evidence to the contrary in several regards. Usmanov was the first and last person to demand that the shareholders take dividends from the profits generated, so basically a share of profits go to the shareholders instead of being directly invested back into the club like it does now (though Kroenke hasn’t committed verbally regarding how long this would continue). This proposal was shot down by the board at the time and before we can throw accusations about the current board taking in the profits, we can be assured that the profits generated by the club are invested directly back into the club. The club’s annual accounts (that are audited multiple times) clearly indicate that the board doesn’t take a penny out of the profits (beyond a nominal salary for being on the board)

Now my question is why is it that a man who claims to have so much desire to take Arsenal to the next level claiming to invest from his own pocket, request that board take dividends from profits generated? If his intentions are ONLY to help take the club to the next level, why is he looking to make money out of it? Also, if he really was so well meaning, as a shareholder with nearly 30% in the club why does he not already start keeping his promises of offering the investment he promises?

From the above points I’ve pretty much made it clear that on sheer appearance and PR work Usmanov may look like the savior to cure all our ills, but on the long run, this guy will take Arsenal to the cleaners. It’s pretty obvious with how the board is steering clear of his way (and has done so for a while now). And I would never want a person with such murky history to ever take over my beloved club. And despite the above points, if there are still doubts lingering over the credibility of the information then I direct you to the following links. One is a site owned by CRAIG MURRAY, a former British Ambassador to Uzbekistan who personally took up Usmanov’s case and came up with the information .  and another link that shows what exactly did usmanov do and why he needs to be feared over taking over our club.

With this I think I have managed to burst a few if not all myths surrounding  Usmanov. It has never been my motive, to take personal digs at the Uzbek. But after doing a comprehensive research on the billionaire who looks like the savior on the short run, but could be our slide to doom and gloom, I would never want to see this man running the affairs of the grandest and most English of all clubs.

Thanks for the guest post @Gooner_Optimist and I’m sure this might help open eyes of several people who were unaware of all this. I (@positivegunner) would also like to add this that as unpopular as Kroenke is, he is definitely preferable as an owner at the moment, if for nothing else but to keep away a man who clearly is against every principle and virtue that the club has ever stood for, especially that of integrity and class.

Stan might not seem even half decent for us at present and some people even despise the man, but what exactly has he himself changed in the way the club is run? If you look back at history, he is continuing a plan set in motion from a time even before he was involved with the club by people like Ken Friar, Peter Hill-Wood and Danny Fiszman and he hasn’t really altered that one bit. Now if people were expecting a billionaire owner to come in and pump money into the club, they can justifiably be disappointed, however, would the same disappointment and anger exist if this policy was continued under the old board with no majority owner? If Fiszman’s health hadn’t taken a downturn for the worse, forcing such a sale, and if the old board had continued these past two years with the same policy, would the complaints be as bad as they are now against “the Yank”? Would accusations of owning shares just to profit from them be made if the old board, the one that has been around for many successful seasons, stuck by the club’s self sustaining principles? Kroenke’s owned us for two years and it does seem like we’re stagnating under him but how much of the current situation is down to him? Did the two captains force their way out and force us into a rebuild because of him? Or did the ticket prices go up in the last 2 years that he’s actually owned us? Or was he in charge of the old commercial deals that hampered us until now?

He is definitely an easy target to go after but not all ills are his fault when the club is sticking to traditions of trying to achieve success while being self-sustaining that were established before his time here. It might seem like we’re swimming against the tide and it might seem easier to abandon it all for instant success that we’ve all craved for so long but I personally see this easy way out as less ambitious than trying to achieve greatness through sweat rather than oil. As clichéd as it is, the saying “it’s always darkest before the dawn” holds true. The next two years are going to see a dramatic change in our commercial income and this coincides with the introduction of Financial Fair Play Measures. This gives us spending power we have lacked and helps level the playing field to an extent thus ensuring that we will be able to genuinely compete without needing an external benefactor. If anything, Kroenke, Usmanov or the new consortium allegedly interested in buying us for a huge sum knows this well and they know that they won’t have to put in a penny. It has been a long, tiring, painful journey and there were bound to be hiccups along the way but should we really give up now after working so hard against the odds for the past decade?

Early in the week, leaked photos forced Arsenal to reveal that Dennis Bergkamp will be honoured with a statue outside the stadium. This will force Arsenal into a more prompt revealing of the statue but it’s unlikely to rush Arsene Wenger who will be out panic-buying any rusty figurine he can find in a French antique shop. The Flying Dutchman will be joining Arsenal legends Tony Adams, Thierry Henry and Herbert Chapman in being immortalised in bronze. The whole thing is slightly cheapened by the fact that Phil Brown achieved this years ago.

Then came the news that goal line technology would be introduced to the Premier League for the start of next season. Le Boss welcomed the news in his press conference but is he ignoring the beauty that the confusion can bring? Remember Frank Lampard’s big, sad moon face? Are we sure we want to change something that brought us that moment?

It was never my intention to mention Lampard but I couldn’t resist the perfect segue to the elephant in the room.

Arsenal were away this week and lost, two goals to one. It was a gripping encounter for thirty five minutes where Arsenal were the better of two good sides. The Arsenal defence then proceeded to shit itself in two minutes of utter chaos. It was grim. The game was more even in the second half as the home team grew into the lead which must have shocked them as much as it did us. When we got a free kick in the corner, there was a feeling that it could bring a goal but nobody was guessing at which end it might come. Per headed it home and we were back in it. There were a couple of chances but it finished that way and typing about it is annoying.

And finally! An Arsenal fan is alleged to have thrown a banana at Gareth Bale and some newspapers are reporting that the perpetrator will be banned for life by Arsenal. It was first believed to have particularly enraged Tom Huddlestone as he was seen roaring at the infamous fruit flinger, but close up angles now show Huddlestone clearly ordering a “pie and chips with extra gravy”.

That is the round-up for this week. Thank you for reading.

Up the Arsenal!

With over a quarter of the season left and his glass still half-full, Blackburn George reflects on yesterday’s game.

Well that was another bitter pill to swallow.

Anyone who failed to see us dominating play can only do so by being blind to the events on the field.  Particularly for the first 35 minutes. We were in complete control for that period.  Their midfield simply had no answer to our play.

Sadly in the space of two minutes or so, two decisive plays from them, combined with two defensive lapses from us, left us an uphill struggle that in the end proved to be a little too much.

None of us can be happy with the result, but we should at least take some comfort from the performance.

There is no getting away from the fact that we lose too many games that we should not.  But to simply point the finger at any one person or reason is far too simplistic. 

The team needs to grow as a unit, defend as a unit and attack as a unit. This takes time and patience.  And we fans should accept this and understand how hard it is to achieve. 

We have six midfielders, Jack, Santi, Mikel, Abou, Thomas and Aaron.  A combination of any three of them are better than anything else I see in the league. 

Personally I have no idea which is our best three.  So add Le Coq and AOC and we are well set for years to come.

I believe we would benefit from a quick centre forward and another centre back.  But even without additions I am convinced we will be much stronger next season.

There are thirty points still to play for. 

All is not lost by any means. But even if it was, nothing is to be gained by withdrawing our support for the team.  Every week I see a team of huge potential.  We simply must give them to time to fulfill that potential.  I honestly don’t see why people can’t relish the challenge.  Rather than throw their arms up and ask for change. 

Change may come all to soon, I fear, unless the majority of fans don’t quickly see sense. 

You can share a glass of positivity with George on Twitter @Blackburngeorge

We haven’t heard from our dear friend Frank for quite a while now.He is most likely to the Grand Tour of Europe on Lady Nina,but wherever he is,he has my best wishes and I hope he knows how much we miss him.

Anyway,here is an old post from him that reminds us of his genius.

Frank looks back, more in sorrow than in anger, to re-tell a chilling tale of a long-lost summer of love, a terrible betrayal and lots of super furry animals.

I was mugged in Seven Sisters.

To be accurate I was attacked in Seven Sisters since nothing was stolen.

Cold bloodedly gratuitously attacked.  A summer afternoon several decades ago spent with a friend and I was heading home to Tufnell Park.  It was an early evening in July but I could hardly see as I turned into the tunnel heading for the tube, eating sausage and chips.  Out of nowhere something hit me on the back of the head and just as I turned, a fist hit me in the mouth.  I fell to the ground in a daze and the protagonists proceeded to kick the living shit out of me.

There was a lot a ‘fackin this’ and ‘kantin that’ as the boots went in and afterwards just the sound of nasal snickering.  Before I passed out I caught a glimpse of two of them.  One in white trousers and a bowler hat with ‘Tottenham Droogies’ written across the back.  The other had calf-length faded jeans, docs, white tee shirt, braces …. and a tattoo on his forearm.

A tattoo of a cock and ball.

I must have been out for a while because when I woke up, the ends of the tunnel were dark.  The reek of urine and unwashed bodies was only just bearable.  I was surrounded by squashed chips and, nestling in the gutter by the wall with not a bite out of it, was my sausage.  My head hurt like hell, split lip, bumps and bruises all over but I seemed to be OK.

I’d got away with it.

Could have been killed.  Could have been maimed or paralyzed for life.  Thankfully I had done what most blokes who are being kicked in the head do, I protected my privates.  Death is preferable to castration.

I had survived.

Slowly I got up.  I just wanted to get home.  Brushed off the fag ends, chewing gum, dog shit.  Stretched out my arms and then my legs, moved my head from side to side.  Tested my aching bones.  Nothing broken.  Lets go home, Frank.  Then someone behind me coughed.

I spun round afraid that they had come back to finish me off.

But there standing in front of me was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  She had on an ankle length yellow dress and sandals.  She had long, long tresses of red hair and her smile was extraordinary; it could fill a room, or, in this case, a tunnel.  Her smell was intoxicating and as she touched my face with her hand I just knew that she was an angel.

I was dead and on my way to heaven.

She asked me if I was okay.  She asked me if I was in pain.  She asked if there was anything she could do for me … and before I could answer she passed me her guinea pig and started mopping my brow.

Guinea pig?

What the fuck?

She gave me a guinea pig?  Well yes she did.  She handed me her guinea pig.  Cleaned me up.  Took her guinea pig back.  Held my hand and took me to Tufnell Park.

That is how I met Maude.

Oh Maude, Maude, Maude – you were perfect.  She took me home to my apartment and stayed for three weeks.  What a three weeks!

Idyllic.

Walking on the Heath.  Drinking in The Flask in Highgate.  Strolling through Waterlow Park.  Saying “hello” to Karl Marx.  Wearing each others’ clothes.

Actually she wore mine, I didn’t wear hers, I really didn’t.  Getting drunk together on Grand Marnier and sick together afterwards.  Listening to a friend play folk songs outside the Admiral Mann.  I even started to read poetry, although it didn’t last.  Mostly though, we just made love.  Anywhere and everywhere.

In that time I was treated to a parade of animals.

Guinea pigs, rats, hamsters, geckos, turtles, tortoises, parrots, budgies, kittens, puppies, fish, snakes, you name it.

Every day she would disappear for a few hours and return with different animals.  Only on Sundays would she return without an animal and on Sunday evenings she was always very tired.  The explanation turned out to be a bit crazy but I could deal with it.  She let on that she was into animal liberation and spent much of her time nicking animals from pet shops and domestic animal stockists.

Her aim in life was to free them all.

Create an animal utopia where they could all live free from human bondage.  How she managed to get plastic bags of tropical fish and a twelve foot python out of a shop without anyone noticing I have no idea.  But she did it.  Insane of course, and I loved her all the more for it.  We were madly, stupidly, giddily happy.

Until that fateful day in early August.

So far we had lived in my flat.  It was OK.  But I was getting more and more curious.  Where did she live?  How long?  What was it like?  Was she sure that she was not using the animals as a cover for her sneaking back to a long time live-in partner or husband?

Joke, sort of.  What was she hiding?

After much cajoling on my part she finally agreed that we could stay at her place.  She lived in a flat on the first floor of a Victorian house on the A10 near to the junction with Clapton Common.  She had been on her way home when she found me in the tunnel.

So off we went.

We spent a pleasant few hours in the Spaniards’ Inn and went to a party with friends in Stoke Newington.  Caught a taxi to hers.  Let ourselves in.

Her living room was full of no-longer-soon-to-be-pets.

It was smelly and it was noisy, but she cleared a space  and we sat and drank tea and chatted amongst the boxes, cages, baskets and tanks.  Finally we fell into bed exhausted.  The following day was Monday and neither of us needed to get up early.  We were very soon fast asleep in each others arms.

We awoke on Monday morning refreshed.  She made cups of tea and brought them back to bed.  Gradually we began to get interested, the way you do.

We kissed and cuddled …

Then Maude whispered that she would like to make love in daylight amongst the trees and birdsong.  Her garden was beautiful at this time of year, she said.  She asked me to open the curtains and open the window.

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.

About as excited as I have ever been in my life I leapt out of bed, hopped to the almost full-length sash window and threw open the red velvet curtains to let the sun in …

The No 149 bus route has been transporting the residents of that area to the City for many years and I believe that it still does to this day.

In the days of the old Routemasters, in the rush hour the bottom deck was crammed full of people, many standing and some dangling from the platform at the back.  Upstairs was calmer and those fortunate enough to get a seat were able to read the paper or a book, do the crossword, do the Pools, knit, or in most cases just sit and watch the world go by.  There are a number of points on that journey where the bus comes to a standstill for quite a while as the traffic gets well and truly jammed.

One particular point is just outside Maude’s flat.

The floor of the top deck on those buses is roughly about the level of the first floor of that particular block of houses, and the windows of the bus are about six feet from the residents’ windows.  You can see awful lot from the top of that bus and on that day passengers had a real treat.

As the curtains opened they were greeted with … think of Leonardo’s Study of Human Proportions according to Vitruvius. 

But weedier and in a state of arousal.

For my own part I just remember seeing an endless stream of tickets coming out of the Clippie’s machine and thinking thank goodness they can’t see my feet because I’ve still got my socks on.  I turned to shout at Maude for setting me up, and as I did so I noticed something.  Something very serious indeed.  Something which caused me to shut out the embarrassment of the last few seconds completely.  I couldn’t believe it.  I froze.  The blood drained from my face and obviously from other places.

The bottom fell completely out of my world.

In the lower right hand corner of the window was a sticker.  Not a very big one, about the size of a bob-a-job sticker.  But this particular sticker had a motif on it.  A dreadful symbol.

A cock and ball.

We just hadn’t discussed football.  People had the summer off in those days.  No transfer activity.  I turned to her and just shouted “TOTTENHAM” at her at the top of my voice.  At first she completely misunderstood and she laughed and shouted:  “YES. YOU TOO …?”.

But before she could finish, she realised.

It was probably me screaming “YOU ARE A FUCKING SPUD” that gave it away.  Her beautiful face contorted into an ugly grimace and in a vicious whisper she spat “Arsenal.  You are a fucking Gunner?  You bastard”.

I couldn’t stay.

I needed air.  I grabbed my clothes, putting them on as I scrambled through the menagerie in the living room.  I got to the front door and slammed it to, shutting out the cacophony behind me.  I headed for a café on the corner of the block, ordered coffee and just sat in a window seat sipping and smoking.  I half expected her to follow and to be honest I half hoped that she would.

But I realised it was over.

I could take the pet rustling and I could even take being humiliated in front of a bus full of people but I could not take the fact that she was a SPUD.  That could never work.

But that was not quite the end of it.

As I sipped my third coffee, having smoked half a pack of cigarettes, two panda cars and a police van arrived at her flat.  Maude was led out in handcuffs and for the next hour policemen loaded the back of the van with her contraband, Noah’s Ark fashion.  I felt bad about that at the time as I watched her driven away in the back of the police car it seemed unjust that she should go down for stealing animals when she had such good if not misguided intentions.  It turned out in court about six weeks later though, that every Sunday she ran a pet stall on Club Row.

She had been nicking pets and flogging them on.  She also stole them to order.

I will always remember Maude though and if I ever meet her again, which is very unlikely, I know exactly what I will say to her……………

“CARMON ARSENAL CARMON ARSENAL CARMON ARSENAL

ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAL….ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAAAAL…ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAL….ARSENAL….ARSENAL”

Remember when Kevin Keegan showed how cross he was at something Old Red Nose said? He was wearing a pair of seventies headphones and started to echo the thoughts of most football supporters in the land by saying he would love to beat the red Mancs, love it. Nothing particularly exciting about that, at the time we would have loved it if anyone beat them. I in fact still enjoy seeing or hearing that they have been defeated, it’s one of life’s little joys.

Sadly for all people with a scintilla of sense and decency the media took that moment as their cue to start praising the purple veined old coot for his deft employment of psychology to unsettle his managerial opponents. Or in their lazy shorthand, mind games. In fact Keegan’s little show of passion was only notable because someone in football had just told the unvarnished truth, and had done so in a way that made it transparently apparent that they in fact meant what they were saying. I don’t think it had much impact on the outcome of the title. We all know that in a tight race the more experienced, settled team (with the weight of the football establishment behind them) will often succeed and Keegan’s Newcastle just didn’t quite have enough to stave off the vested interests and the red mancs.

What’s always struck me is the way we have since been told to view Keegan’s barely suppressed anger as an outburst or a rant. Who really used mind games here? I suggest it was the media. Repeat a lie often enough and everyone will accept it. The interview is passionate, honest and relatively mild by any reasonable measure. And yet the media felt the need to over react and do everything possible to destabilise the rival to their favourite. It’s not much to me, a meh moment really, they have an agenda, big deal, so what? That’s not news. But last week they were at it again.

I read on the BBC news feed that Rafa Benitez had ‘ranted’ and been guilty of an ‘outburst’. The BBC. An organisation which used to be rightly famed for some degree of journalistic integrity. Not a tabloid, not a Fregie fawning satellite channel but Aunty Beeb herself. Intrigued despite myself, I looked up and found a video of this drooling, wild eyed, ill advised crazy harangue to which the poor unsuspecting journalists had been subjected. And surprise surprise, what did I find? A rather diffident, polite gentleman calmly and rationally explaining that he was working for a shamelessly non-supportive organisation and that football fans have a role and that role is to get behind their team. Their role was absolutely not to make defamatory banners nor to chant abuse at the club they purport to follow. I say the club and not the manager advisedly. These buffoons at Chelsea will always claim they have the long term good of their club at heart and are in fact merely ‘having a go’ at an inept manager.

Bollocks.

You shout abuse at your manager and you are shouting abuse at your club. As George would say, simples.

We of course at Arsenal are familiar with what is happening at Chelsea. Not the manager go round nor the ownership model, I don’t mean that, but rather the unrepresentative berks getting their names checked by an all too willing and complicit media and claiming to speak for all of the fans. The prats who think they know more about tactics and player selection than a man who clearly has more experience and professional acumen than they have acne blocked pores. I don’t have much sympathy for Rafa – he knew precisely what kind of horrible organisation he was walking into. But I do think he was absolutely 100% correct in everything he said. And more than that he did not rant and it wasn’t an outburst but the media have decided that we must all think it was.

Here’s my question. And I expect an answer so sit up straight at the back. What do the print journos, the radio and TV people gain from raising up these revolting little men (who I refuse to name here) that claim (wrongly) to represent fan unrest? Who benefits? Beats the hell out of me. A conspiracy needs a clear aim before it makes sense to simpletons like me. So maybe they just like stirring the shit. Maybe it makes life more interesting.

One thing watching Rafa reminded me is how wise Arsene is to treat the press with such gently smiling benign contempt. I am astounded when supporters think it is they who are on the end of his subtle dissembling, that he aims his careful political double speak at the humble football fan. It is a duel with the media and one he conducts with a cautious dignity, choosing when to swat them aside and when to dangle a tidbit. Mind games? Compared with the oafish clumsiness of the sot from the North Arsene is like the child of Gary Kasparov and Machiavelli. When he blithely states that he makes no plans for Gareth Bale on Sunday do people really seriously start screaming that he’s a fool and he’s lost it? Or do they think he ought to tell those press hounds all of his plans and just hope no one from the Lane gets wind of them.

Given the enormous task Arsene has faced over the last few years and the revolting way he is treated it is quite incredible that a genuine rant or outburst has never happened. He should be instantly forgiven it it did, but instead he tolerates the imbecility of the press pack with an avuncular patience and a patronising indifference which you nor I would have little hope of maintaining. Just one more thing he does rather well in my opinion.

And with that I’m off to try to fill a football free Saturday.