I've no idea where to start with that. I've no idea how to say something that hasn't been said elsewhere or a thousand times before. In the past I've resorted to posting kittens in hats to avoid joining the festival of moaning. Last night was the embodiment of all the clear problems we've been talking about for ages. We were found out in the most public of arenas. To lose to Fulham can go unnoticed by non Gooners but this exposes you. It had an inevitable feel to it. It felt like a watershed.
I've said before that I've been lucky enough to see special teams like the invincibles. I've also seen awful teams (most of the 80s!) This group are good. No more. No less. A good team will get you to 4th if they are lucky while losing to teams they should beat along the way. A good team might just win an FA Cup. A good team might come up against a much better team in Europe and get hammered.
Not so long ago you'd need both hands and a toe to count the world class players in our first team. Now you need one hand and, depending on your views, may have fingers spare. Put Jack in that side last night and that's the first team. How many fingers are you holding up?
Consecutively replacing top quality with good quality takes its toll. Scraping for 4th has replaced challenging for 1st. There is a lack of confidence within the team and the fans that's eating into the place. I can't remember the last time I went to a match 'knowing' we would win. 'We could win this 3-0 or lose it 1-0' is a common response to the 'what's going to happen' question. We never seem to build on a good result. Each game is insular. We have no form at all.
The blogs will be alight today so l'll end now as we've read it all before. Saturday has now become massive. We could win it 3-0. We could lose it 1-0. Who knows. That's what good (but not great) teams do. We're good, but often, just not good enough.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Sunday, 12 February 2012
People Stared
Thierry Henry is the only man on the planet I'd leave Mrs Pitch for! She fully accepts this and probably feels the same! He's left us once before. We all locked ourselves in our bedrooms and cried ourselves to sleep. This week we will do the same. The great man returned briefly to make us feel how only he can. He kissed the badge, he scored winning goals, he played with our emotions one last time. Yet before next weekend he will be off to do what he does for us for people who don't need him and certainly can't love him like we do. All we can hope is some of his magic has brushed off onto Park or Chamakh returns a different player as our game changing substitute disappears across the pond.
Having driven 200 miles north for a half term jaunt the majority of the first half passed me by. As I strolled the streets looking for shops to replace the things we'd forgotten to pack I looked at my little DAB radio and actually wondered if they had digital this far north! It turns out they do along with electricity and running water! The half time report told me we were comfortable without any threat which was worrying.
As I queued with a hand full of toothbrushes there was still no breakthrough. Liverpool had lost, the Chavs were down 2-0 so we needed to take advantage. News from the laughably named Stadium of Light was not welcome. They told me a horrendous error by Mertersacker led to Sunderland's opener. It was due to Martin O'Neill's magic apparently. Having seen the goal it was more due to the awful pitch than the bouncy Irishman. The only way Magic Martin can be responsible for that goal is if he's the one who looks after the rice they grow on the pitch between games. Per went over like a new born giraffe and had to be carried off by 20 men on two stretchers.*
Doom returned. Derogatory texts and tweets were swapped. Swear words restricted to 'Oh No' and 'Damn it' as I stood in a small quiet bookshop with my daughter. She had no idea that I wasn't really paying her attention. I kept her on my left side and was somehow able to say the right things as the radio pumped news into my right ear.
'Rambo! Yes!' is not the most normal thing to exclaim in the tourist information office. My daughter put on her 'I'm happy because dad's happy' face despite not really caring about why I'd cheered up. 1-1. Good result? Bit disappointed actually. We need wins.
As we began our walk home I suddenly stopped. The dangling earphone was pressed into the free 'daughter listening' ear as the nice lady from Radio 5 started her sentence. "You will not believe this" She said. WHAT WON'T I BELIEVE? I stood slightly crouched ready to either spring in celebration or slump to my knees. "Thierry ....." is all I heard. It's all I needed. The legs straightened. The feet left the floor. The red and white Saville Rogue scarf won from Arseblog was waved. The fist was pumped. The daughter was hugged and thrown playfully in the air. People stared!
He'd done it again.
*might not be totally true.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Having driven 200 miles north for a half term jaunt the majority of the first half passed me by. As I strolled the streets looking for shops to replace the things we'd forgotten to pack I looked at my little DAB radio and actually wondered if they had digital this far north! It turns out they do along with electricity and running water! The half time report told me we were comfortable without any threat which was worrying.
As I queued with a hand full of toothbrushes there was still no breakthrough. Liverpool had lost, the Chavs were down 2-0 so we needed to take advantage. News from the laughably named Stadium of Light was not welcome. They told me a horrendous error by Mertersacker led to Sunderland's opener. It was due to Martin O'Neill's magic apparently. Having seen the goal it was more due to the awful pitch than the bouncy Irishman. The only way Magic Martin can be responsible for that goal is if he's the one who looks after the rice they grow on the pitch between games. Per went over like a new born giraffe and had to be carried off by 20 men on two stretchers.*
Doom returned. Derogatory texts and tweets were swapped. Swear words restricted to 'Oh No' and 'Damn it' as I stood in a small quiet bookshop with my daughter. She had no idea that I wasn't really paying her attention. I kept her on my left side and was somehow able to say the right things as the radio pumped news into my right ear.
'Rambo! Yes!' is not the most normal thing to exclaim in the tourist information office. My daughter put on her 'I'm happy because dad's happy' face despite not really caring about why I'd cheered up. 1-1. Good result? Bit disappointed actually. We need wins.
As we began our walk home I suddenly stopped. The dangling earphone was pressed into the free 'daughter listening' ear as the nice lady from Radio 5 started her sentence. "You will not believe this" She said. WHAT WON'T I BELIEVE? I stood slightly crouched ready to either spring in celebration or slump to my knees. "Thierry ....." is all I heard. It's all I needed. The legs straightened. The feet left the floor. The red and white Saville Rogue scarf won from Arseblog was waved. The fist was pumped. The daughter was hugged and thrown playfully in the air. People stared!
He'd done it again.
*might not be totally true.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
A 4-Track Stereo Recording
I was having a bit of a sort out today and found this little gem wedged between Wham Rap and Kid Creole's Annie, I'm Not Your Daddy! It's The Arsenal Sing-a-Long 7" single. A souvenir production! It contained 4 tracks from a much simpler time. Never did it think it would end up as an MP3 or on Soundcloud. It's from a time when the team were truly awful - 1984! Enjoy and remember to Sing-a-Long, join the Junior Gunners, sign up for the travel club to 'Sing Along with the Arsenal away from home and apply for a price list from the Gunners Shop! Up The Gunners!
It also came with a free lyric sheet so you could really Sing-a-Long. I, as a Junior Gunner, helpfully wrote down how long each song lasted!
Monday, 6 February 2012
Sticking To The Script
Now that's a proper afternoon out. Despite the bitter cold and the rushing about due to various children needing to be at swimming lessons and parties 10 miles away that was a thoroughly entertaining show.
For so long now we have failed to do to teams what we should. We've played countless poor sides over the last few seasons and stumbled into wins, fought out frustrating draws or worse. One such trip up was at Bolton, a game I've ignored. I chose not to spend ages finding a stream and watched the TV while following on Twitter. I've not seen Walcott's one-on-one miss or RVP's affairs with the woodwork. Unlucky? Twitter told me otherwise. We were shit. Top 4 a dream. Wafer cup a thing of the past. Wenger out. RVP will leave. It's over. Bin bag protest. Take to the streets… Twitter is a strange beast. I was not looking forward to Saturday.
Yet a few days later it's all back on! Blackburn arrived right on time. We shuffled into the ground with our newly washed season tickets. Mrs Pitch had left them in her pocket and given them a quick 30°. The box office helpfully told her they had no idea if they would work. They did! The crap was washed away, the turnstile clicked and the newly laundered team were a goal up before many were there.
The atmosphere lightened. No sign of any bin bags. A good start all round. We were all over them. Attack after attack opened them up yet we stuck at one. We looked hungrier than we had for ages but the failings up front were showing. Talk of the missed opportunity to strengthen started. Then it happened. 1-1. It was a stunning freekick. Nobody was to blame as our collective shoulders slumped. I tweeted that we were unlucky to be 1-1 as we were all over them. Twitter suggested we were shit. And that's the problem. We were playing well. The scoreline was shit but to be conditioned to criticise the team just on the score is worrying. Yet, I guess the score is everything. 0-0 at Bolton is no good however you play. We've dropped too many points to be unlucky. That luxury is gone.
However, as we sighed, the team stayed perky. Less than 5 minutes later the first goal was replicated and we were back on our feet. Where was the famous collapse? I was ready for the huffing and puffing. Yet before I could finish my beef baguette The Ox had skipped round fatty spudboy to give us an unfamiliar half time score. We were shit no more! As half time approached Givet decided he'd had enough and introduced our captain to his studs before apologising to Arsene as he took the shameful walk away. Steve Keene, to his credit, apologised to RVP too. A welcome sight.
Half time was surprisingly upbeat. More people than usual due to the freeze jumped around to House of Pain as we anticipated goals. It was like the half times of old.
The second half was more of the same. RVP completed his hatrick, Arteta scored again against Blackburn while The OC did what we wished Theo would do more often. The day was rounded off when T scored after a game of 'after you' with Robin. 7-1 and richly deserved. They were worth 1 and we were worth at least 7. This is what should happen and it, for once, did.
I know we thrashed a team who will probably go down who were missing their better players and spent nearly an hour a man short but you can only beat what's in front of you and so often we've struggled to do that. Everyone put in a decent performance. We looked good. No more, no less and as we are in a right old battle to keep our top 4 'success' going looking good will do me for now.
- Posted using BlogPress from an iTelephone.
For so long now we have failed to do to teams what we should. We've played countless poor sides over the last few seasons and stumbled into wins, fought out frustrating draws or worse. One such trip up was at Bolton, a game I've ignored. I chose not to spend ages finding a stream and watched the TV while following on Twitter. I've not seen Walcott's one-on-one miss or RVP's affairs with the woodwork. Unlucky? Twitter told me otherwise. We were shit. Top 4 a dream. Wafer cup a thing of the past. Wenger out. RVP will leave. It's over. Bin bag protest. Take to the streets… Twitter is a strange beast. I was not looking forward to Saturday.
Yet a few days later it's all back on! Blackburn arrived right on time. We shuffled into the ground with our newly washed season tickets. Mrs Pitch had left them in her pocket and given them a quick 30°. The box office helpfully told her they had no idea if they would work. They did! The crap was washed away, the turnstile clicked and the newly laundered team were a goal up before many were there.
The atmosphere lightened. No sign of any bin bags. A good start all round. We were all over them. Attack after attack opened them up yet we stuck at one. We looked hungrier than we had for ages but the failings up front were showing. Talk of the missed opportunity to strengthen started. Then it happened. 1-1. It was a stunning freekick. Nobody was to blame as our collective shoulders slumped. I tweeted that we were unlucky to be 1-1 as we were all over them. Twitter suggested we were shit. And that's the problem. We were playing well. The scoreline was shit but to be conditioned to criticise the team just on the score is worrying. Yet, I guess the score is everything. 0-0 at Bolton is no good however you play. We've dropped too many points to be unlucky. That luxury is gone.
However, as we sighed, the team stayed perky. Less than 5 minutes later the first goal was replicated and we were back on our feet. Where was the famous collapse? I was ready for the huffing and puffing. Yet before I could finish my beef baguette The Ox had skipped round fatty spudboy to give us an unfamiliar half time score. We were shit no more! As half time approached Givet decided he'd had enough and introduced our captain to his studs before apologising to Arsene as he took the shameful walk away. Steve Keene, to his credit, apologised to RVP too. A welcome sight.
Half time was surprisingly upbeat. More people than usual due to the freeze jumped around to House of Pain as we anticipated goals. It was like the half times of old.
The second half was more of the same. RVP completed his hatrick, Arteta scored again against Blackburn while The OC did what we wished Theo would do more often. The day was rounded off when T scored after a game of 'after you' with Robin. 7-1 and richly deserved. They were worth 1 and we were worth at least 7. This is what should happen and it, for once, did.
I know we thrashed a team who will probably go down who were missing their better players and spent nearly an hour a man short but you can only beat what's in front of you and so often we've struggled to do that. Everyone put in a decent performance. We looked good. No more, no less and as we are in a right old battle to keep our top 4 'success' going looking good will do me for now.
- Posted using BlogPress from an iTelephone.
Monday, 30 January 2012
Now Where Are The Trophy Cabinet Keys? Once Again It's On!
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we love this thing called football. January finished on a high as we finally managed to put in a shift of 45 minutes. Look what happens when urgency and desire take over.
To be fair the half time score didn't really reflect our play. It was all too easy for the boo boys to vocalise their displeasure as we stared down the barrel again. 5 minutes before the first Villa goal I swapped texts with the man from Eastlower and we both categorically confirmed to each other that this game had 0-0 written all over it. We were blunt in attack while Villa were crap. Yes! We can read a game and will be presenting ITV's coverage of the next round. "Well Eastlower, if nobody scores it will be a draw." "Indeed it will Feverpitch and I can see a replay happening too." ESPN wanted us but we are a little too highbrow.
Moments after plumping for a draw Richard Dunne (talking of plump) rose like an overweight whale to head home after we had defended a corner like Arsenal. Nobody wanted it apart from Dunne and that was symptomatic of our first half and indeed most of January (and beyond...) We continued to look busy but achieved nothing. It was during one of these pointless excursions into the Villa box that we conceded again. They broke like we used to. Bent surged into the box, played a one two off Flappyhandski's flappy hand and slotted home from the acutist of angles. That was a well taken goal by any standards. I maybe being a bit harsh on Flappy. It was a decent first save but he really needs to put it out of danger or it will come straight back at you. It did. 0-2. Poor old Flaps. He doesn't really install much confidence does he? At one point @lovelymrs tweeted "Flappyhandski is a bit Flappyfootski too today!" Balls in the air or on the floor are a challenge. Sharp intakes of breath when the ball's in our area. Sighs of relief when he holds it. Our confidence in our number two is lower than Jordan's husband's taste in women.
The highlight of the first half for us was Arsene taking 3 minutes to do his zip up. He was struggling yet not one chant of "you don't know what you're doing!" He's zipped up 50,000 things in the past and this one would not beat him. He later failed to explain his actions and why should he?
Half time arrived and it was doom with an added dollop of gloom as we contemplated another season of no shiny things. The boos suggested Arsene was to blame. Well if he was then he must be applauded for what went on at half time. Whatever he did proves to me he is still very much the man. The team were about as useful as an ink pen on 'arry's desk in the first half. The manager and the senior players stepped up and the youngsters responded too.
Suddenly we had captains everywhere. The pitch was soaked in desire and a somewhat complacent Villa, who probably thought they had nearly done enough, couldn't live with us. Two definite penalties and a lucky Theo goal later and we were incredibly winning. Special mentions must go to Ramsey & Kos for their surging runs into the box. Theo may have been lucky but his dribble to the goal was magnificent. He assisted himself for that goal. Lastly, RVP, who drew level with the Lord Dennis on 120 goals for the club, took two superb penalties.
It was one of those lovely Arsenal afternoons that left you with a warm hopeful glow. Thierry prowling the touch line pointing and barking out instructions like a future manager might (you never know!) added to the fun. We needed that win like 'arry needs a big file in his next birthday cake. At half time it seemed like this awful run would never end. It seemed like we really were crap. One decent half in a month doesn't make the problems go away but my goodness it gives us something to build on. We had desire. We had fight. We even had some luck and with the medical room slowly emptying we can look forward with less fear.
On Sunday we saw the worst and the best of our club in the space of 90 minutes. The good finally defeated the crap.
Onwards to Bolton. Up the Gunners.
To be fair the half time score didn't really reflect our play. It was all too easy for the boo boys to vocalise their displeasure as we stared down the barrel again. 5 minutes before the first Villa goal I swapped texts with the man from Eastlower and we both categorically confirmed to each other that this game had 0-0 written all over it. We were blunt in attack while Villa were crap. Yes! We can read a game and will be presenting ITV's coverage of the next round. "Well Eastlower, if nobody scores it will be a draw." "Indeed it will Feverpitch and I can see a replay happening too." ESPN wanted us but we are a little too highbrow.
Moments after plumping for a draw Richard Dunne (talking of plump) rose like an overweight whale to head home after we had defended a corner like Arsenal. Nobody wanted it apart from Dunne and that was symptomatic of our first half and indeed most of January (and beyond...) We continued to look busy but achieved nothing. It was during one of these pointless excursions into the Villa box that we conceded again. They broke like we used to. Bent surged into the box, played a one two off Flappyhandski's flappy hand and slotted home from the acutist of angles. That was a well taken goal by any standards. I maybe being a bit harsh on Flappy. It was a decent first save but he really needs to put it out of danger or it will come straight back at you. It did. 0-2. Poor old Flaps. He doesn't really install much confidence does he? At one point @lovelymrs tweeted "Flappyhandski is a bit Flappyfootski too today!" Balls in the air or on the floor are a challenge. Sharp intakes of breath when the ball's in our area. Sighs of relief when he holds it. Our confidence in our number two is lower than Jordan's husband's taste in women.
The highlight of the first half for us was Arsene taking 3 minutes to do his zip up. He was struggling yet not one chant of "you don't know what you're doing!" He's zipped up 50,000 things in the past and this one would not beat him. He later failed to explain his actions and why should he?
Half time arrived and it was doom with an added dollop of gloom as we contemplated another season of no shiny things. The boos suggested Arsene was to blame. Well if he was then he must be applauded for what went on at half time. Whatever he did proves to me he is still very much the man. The team were about as useful as an ink pen on 'arry's desk in the first half. The manager and the senior players stepped up and the youngsters responded too.
Suddenly we had captains everywhere. The pitch was soaked in desire and a somewhat complacent Villa, who probably thought they had nearly done enough, couldn't live with us. Two definite penalties and a lucky Theo goal later and we were incredibly winning. Special mentions must go to Ramsey & Kos for their surging runs into the box. Theo may have been lucky but his dribble to the goal was magnificent. He assisted himself for that goal. Lastly, RVP, who drew level with the Lord Dennis on 120 goals for the club, took two superb penalties.
It was one of those lovely Arsenal afternoons that left you with a warm hopeful glow. Thierry prowling the touch line pointing and barking out instructions like a future manager might (you never know!) added to the fun. We needed that win like 'arry needs a big file in his next birthday cake. At half time it seemed like this awful run would never end. It seemed like we really were crap. One decent half in a month doesn't make the problems go away but my goodness it gives us something to build on. We had desire. We had fight. We even had some luck and with the medical room slowly emptying we can look forward with less fear.
On Sunday we saw the worst and the best of our club in the space of 90 minutes. The good finally defeated the crap.
Onwards to Bolton. Up the Gunners.
Monday, 23 January 2012
Still an Arsenist.
So here we are with one game left in January and our only match winner of 2012 being Thierry Henry against lower league opposition. For the third time this year we were beaten by a better team. No complaints about who won. Plenty of concern about who lost.
The most positive result from the round table score prediction in the pub before the game was 1-1. The other seven of us went for defeat so it wasn't unexpected. Fulham was a punch in the stomach. Swansea was the killer upper cut. Our glass jaw exposed. Expectations floored. Had we been playing Wigan the predictions would've been similar. Team news filtered through just as the spuds conceded a late penalty. The Ox unleashed. Our spirits and eyebrows were slightly raised. In at the deep end and why not?
The first half was forgettable rubbish. Man u spent 10 minutes playing with us, attacking in waves & finally breaking us down just before the break. There was an eerie silence from our end. Conceded goals are normally greeted with groans and swearing. Not this one. It was so expected it was almost a relief. To go in only 1 down was a miracle. Man u attack in waves. Toying with us until they spot the weakness or Djourou. They are like predators waiting for the kill. They attack with 10 men. We countered with 4. Mission impossible.
The loss of all our full backs is killing us. We looked like the away team on our own pitch. We also lacked any fight, heart or desire. This was personified by poor Djourou. He was targeted as the weak link mainly due to his ability and the fact he had no help and often faced 3 mancs on his own. I felt a bit sorry for him being so openly exposed however there was a moment which summed up why he really should be nowhere near the first team even with an injury crisis. The ball was lumped forward and it was a straight chase between the Swiss and Nani. One of them sprinted and got to the ball. One of them jogged casually in the general direction of play as if he was in the park with his kids. Not good enough. At least look like you care! At half time Djourou was subbed for a child who was so much better. If that doesn't make him have a good look at himself I don't know what will. Maybe he'll get round to it when he can be bothered.
We were vastly improved in the second half, well for about 20 minutes of it anyway. We created more, fought more. We looked bothered. The equaliser came and briefly we actually believed we could win so much so that the Mancs had to invent an injury to break up our momentum. It worked. We lost the impetus and Man u attacked us again in waves. And then it happened. The Ox, who had impressed and must be a worry for Theo, looked to see his number was up. The loudest noise you hear at the Ems these days are the boos and boy did they ring out. The crowd were disagreeing with the manager. We wanted to win and this particular teenager was going to deliver it. The captain visually booed too. It was a strange one but we really don't know the manager's thinking. Maybe he had good reason. Maybe he was wrong. However, chants of 'you don't know what you're doing' are extraordinary.
The boos at the decision turned to a standing ovation for the young man. He had shown why Arsene paid so much for him - a good long term decision, but let's not consider that, lets just boo the manager at subbing him. The applause then turned to boos again as Arshavin ran on. Incredible way to welcome a player low on confidence that we need to perform. How does that reaction bring the best out of a player? I understand we all pay too much to watch The Arsenal. I understand the frustrations but surely the bare minimum is we get behind the manager & team while the games are actually going on. To boo the manager & players is as stupid as sending abuse to players on twitter. What are these people trying to achieve. Whatever happened to 'We are the Arsenal?'
By all means get on t'internet and have your say. I understand some people who want Wenger to go it's just I don't agree. He has done so much for our club he deserves more respect than he is getting from sections of the crowd. I suggested on twitter last night that these people never offer an alternative. I was bombarded with suggestions, most Guardiola! Excellent! He can bring Messi and Fabregas with him. Everything's going to be OK. Sack the man who has installed these high expectations into you and give the job to the Barcelona manager who I'm sure has always wanted the Arsenal job. What if Pep prefers the Spanish weather? Neil Warnock?
Sack the manager who oversaw our move to a massive new stadium and yet kept us in the top 4? Sack the manager who built the invincibles? Maybe these people are right. Maybe Arsene has lost his way. Maybe things have gone stale. The spirit seems low. The passing, breath taking football has gone. We seem to stumble into wins instead of beating them. The squad's quality is as poor as ever. Things have got to change but changing the manager is the last resort. We need to buy some more quality. It's clear to see yet the manager refuses. He is far too experienced to neglect the obvious need that I really believe the money isn't there. The wages we are wasting on average squad players is draining and this needs addressing. There are 3 utterly crap goalkeepers we could dump for a start. I'd also look at the backroom staff. There are enough people like Adams, Keown or Winterburn knocking about who could do a job in installing discipline and a winning mentality. I'm still very much an Arsenist & will be until things get much worse and the board can convince me they are able to find a competent replacement as I wouldn't trust them to pick me a sandwich at the moment. There is so much we can do before the best manager this club has ever had is sacked starting with backing him and the players we have in the stadium at the very least.
- written in bits throughout the morning in various North London locations and posted using magic.
The most positive result from the round table score prediction in the pub before the game was 1-1. The other seven of us went for defeat so it wasn't unexpected. Fulham was a punch in the stomach. Swansea was the killer upper cut. Our glass jaw exposed. Expectations floored. Had we been playing Wigan the predictions would've been similar. Team news filtered through just as the spuds conceded a late penalty. The Ox unleashed. Our spirits and eyebrows were slightly raised. In at the deep end and why not?
The first half was forgettable rubbish. Man u spent 10 minutes playing with us, attacking in waves & finally breaking us down just before the break. There was an eerie silence from our end. Conceded goals are normally greeted with groans and swearing. Not this one. It was so expected it was almost a relief. To go in only 1 down was a miracle. Man u attack in waves. Toying with us until they spot the weakness or Djourou. They are like predators waiting for the kill. They attack with 10 men. We countered with 4. Mission impossible.
The loss of all our full backs is killing us. We looked like the away team on our own pitch. We also lacked any fight, heart or desire. This was personified by poor Djourou. He was targeted as the weak link mainly due to his ability and the fact he had no help and often faced 3 mancs on his own. I felt a bit sorry for him being so openly exposed however there was a moment which summed up why he really should be nowhere near the first team even with an injury crisis. The ball was lumped forward and it was a straight chase between the Swiss and Nani. One of them sprinted and got to the ball. One of them jogged casually in the general direction of play as if he was in the park with his kids. Not good enough. At least look like you care! At half time Djourou was subbed for a child who was so much better. If that doesn't make him have a good look at himself I don't know what will. Maybe he'll get round to it when he can be bothered.
We were vastly improved in the second half, well for about 20 minutes of it anyway. We created more, fought more. We looked bothered. The equaliser came and briefly we actually believed we could win so much so that the Mancs had to invent an injury to break up our momentum. It worked. We lost the impetus and Man u attacked us again in waves. And then it happened. The Ox, who had impressed and must be a worry for Theo, looked to see his number was up. The loudest noise you hear at the Ems these days are the boos and boy did they ring out. The crowd were disagreeing with the manager. We wanted to win and this particular teenager was going to deliver it. The captain visually booed too. It was a strange one but we really don't know the manager's thinking. Maybe he had good reason. Maybe he was wrong. However, chants of 'you don't know what you're doing' are extraordinary.
The boos at the decision turned to a standing ovation for the young man. He had shown why Arsene paid so much for him - a good long term decision, but let's not consider that, lets just boo the manager at subbing him. The applause then turned to boos again as Arshavin ran on. Incredible way to welcome a player low on confidence that we need to perform. How does that reaction bring the best out of a player? I understand we all pay too much to watch The Arsenal. I understand the frustrations but surely the bare minimum is we get behind the manager & team while the games are actually going on. To boo the manager & players is as stupid as sending abuse to players on twitter. What are these people trying to achieve. Whatever happened to 'We are the Arsenal?'
By all means get on t'internet and have your say. I understand some people who want Wenger to go it's just I don't agree. He has done so much for our club he deserves more respect than he is getting from sections of the crowd. I suggested on twitter last night that these people never offer an alternative. I was bombarded with suggestions, most Guardiola! Excellent! He can bring Messi and Fabregas with him. Everything's going to be OK. Sack the man who has installed these high expectations into you and give the job to the Barcelona manager who I'm sure has always wanted the Arsenal job. What if Pep prefers the Spanish weather? Neil Warnock?
Sack the manager who oversaw our move to a massive new stadium and yet kept us in the top 4? Sack the manager who built the invincibles? Maybe these people are right. Maybe Arsene has lost his way. Maybe things have gone stale. The spirit seems low. The passing, breath taking football has gone. We seem to stumble into wins instead of beating them. The squad's quality is as poor as ever. Things have got to change but changing the manager is the last resort. We need to buy some more quality. It's clear to see yet the manager refuses. He is far too experienced to neglect the obvious need that I really believe the money isn't there. The wages we are wasting on average squad players is draining and this needs addressing. There are 3 utterly crap goalkeepers we could dump for a start. I'd also look at the backroom staff. There are enough people like Adams, Keown or Winterburn knocking about who could do a job in installing discipline and a winning mentality. I'm still very much an Arsenist & will be until things get much worse and the board can convince me they are able to find a competent replacement as I wouldn't trust them to pick me a sandwich at the moment. There is so much we can do before the best manager this club has ever had is sacked starting with backing him and the players we have in the stadium at the very least.
- written in bits throughout the morning in various North London locations and posted using magic.
Sunday, 15 January 2012
THe Scream
I just don't have the energy to say the things we've all said over and over again about this squad. Man U next. I can hardly wait!
Up The Gunners
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