Archive for October, 2009

Time for Arsenal to WIN BIG against Tiny Totts

Saturday, October 31st, 2009

Not long to go now.

Tiny Totts are coming to the Emirates. Let’s hope we can dish out a long overdue pasting to make their Week of Hubris appear even sillier than it already does.

First there was the release of pictures of their new stadium, White Elephant Lane (aka Emirates Lite, Diet Ashburton, Theatre of Squirms). Paid for God only knows how by this puny minnow of the Premiership era, Tiny Totts deserve a healthy dollop of rack and ruin if they ever actually build it. Where does their money come from?

Then came Spurs’ bench-warmer and former Liverpool bench-warmer Robbie Keane claiming that Spurs had more strength in depth than Arsenal. I took this to mean that he is still bitter about never having made it as an elite player and being condemned to spend the best days of his career at a third rate club with no serious European aspirations. Certainly, there’s no way he can seriously be claiming that Spurs have better players than we do. Cos that’s just daft, plainly. Hasn’t he ever seen Arshavin play? Perhaps the wee Russian can show him a thing or two this afternoon.

And now Crazy Harry doesn’t fancy us. Which is fine. We don’t fancy you either you slack-jowled, watery-eyed, club-bankrupting, West Ham-relegating nobarse. He thinks we’re soft-centred and he might have a point. But let’s hope today Vermaelen headers the fuck out of anything that gets anywhere near our box.

In short, Spurs are feeling a lot better about themselves than they usually do, and it is incumbent upon Arsenal to return them to their natural state as the snivelling, bitter joke-club we know and hate.

Team News: Wenger has been saying nothing on this. Which means we might see Cesc and Arshavin rested and Eboue and Diaby included in an otherwise unchanged team from midweek. Today could be the day we finally see Eboue deployed as a lone striker. And what a day that could be.

Excited as I am at that prospect, I would slightly rather we actually started Almunia-Sagna-Gallas-Vermaelen-Clichy-Song-Fabregas-Nasri-Arshavin-Bendtner-VanPersie, though I doubt Nasri will make it after just a single game back so I reckon Diaby could play there instead, though after mid-week Ramsey must be getting very close indeed.

Spurs are without Defoe (sore tummy), Modric (penis wound) and Aaron Lennon (existential crisis). They are also without a soul, a real trophy for about 40 years and any sense of pride/shame.

Today of all days I want no funny business, no nonsense and most definitely no mucking about from the lads. Search and destroy. Pass, move, shoot. This means the scoring of goals and the steely retention of winning margins right to the last. It means not tapping the ankles of known divers in the last minute, and it definitely doesn’t involve stumbling over the ball on halfway and conceding possession needlessly.

I’ve a feeling today will turn out well.

A bad week for the bleeding soul of football

Tuesday, October 13th, 2009

What’s that? Sorry I must have nodded off some time ago.

I now awake to find that the international break has passed off so far pretty much exactly as anybody with half a brain could have predicted. You can’t leave football alone without the Arsenal. Boring things happen.

A turgid defeat for already-qualified England in Ukraine shown only on the internet and in cinemas.

England getting duffed by Ukraine in a cinema. Truly the most soulless, shamelessly capitalist way of consuming football since ‘Goal 2′. Has the beautiful game really come to this?

Watching a slow-motion replay of Maradona launching himself skywards into the torrential Buenos Aires rain (and then turning himself into an amusing kind of blubbery man-sledge) I had to wonder how long it will be before the soul of the game in this country dries up completely.

Most predictable of all was the behaviour of Cheeky Burgerstain, now employed full-time by Barcelona to make bald statements of interest in Cesc Fabregas every single time Spain have a game, has shown himself to be a real professional.

He’s shown his job means much more to him than his credibility, trotting out the same old crap just 3 days after Cesc’s rapturous badge-snogathon, and any lingering sense of decency by continuing to publicly harass our captain while the young star is dealing with personal issues.

This guy is meant to be director of football at a club admired around the world, but he has turned himself into the executive equivalent of a fluffer.

It’s all very depressing.

The only bright spot is that my favourite international team, the Malawi Flames, look set to reach the African Cup of Nations for the first time in bloody ages. They need to make sure they match Guinea’s result in the Ivory Coast when they travel to Burkina Faso.

Do you see what happens to me when there’s no Arsenal?