Before the game yesterday I tweeted 'win pretty, win ugly, just win.' Well that was about as pretty as Steve Bruce bending over in the shower. It started well. It looked like Steve wouldn't wash & keep the bag firmly on his ample head. Things started pretty. Within 31 seconds, with the stadium half full, we were ahead. Relax. We looked good. RVP had released the pressure. He spun Bergkampesque to see his chip tickle the post. He blasted wide. RVP was our Sunday roast.
Then it stopped. Steve removed the mask and started to unbutton. The confidence drained as we decided to let a really poor Sunderland make a game of it. They went close then won a daft free kick that an old boy planted beautifully. By the end of the first half Steve was soaping up. It was as ugly and unpleasant as that. Poor Jenkinson was caught and Cattermole made Sczzzzzer's dive look world class. Sunderland could've been 3-1 up but then so could we.
The second half was more of the same. We were generally on top but we are The Arsenal and they are the man u retirement home for pricks so we should be. Sunderland looked dangerous before the break yet resorted to assaults just outside their box in the second half. Maybe they knew how shit the free kicks would be. Twitter tweeted that we hadn't scored like that for 100 years as each inept player thumped them over. Finally RVP was allowed a poke. Boom! Top corner! Outta jail! 3 points.
For large parts of yesterday we looked like a poor 80s tribute team. Don Howe would be proud of how uninspiring we looked. The crowd feared the worst. Frustration set in. It was nervously quiet. Right or wrong the only noise is exasperation. We won. We won ugly. That's the form of Champions! 10 points in 2 months. That's the form of the bottom 3. That performance, as a whole, showed we are nowhere near the corner let alone turning it. Sunderland were utter shit and we weren't much better. WE WON! I know, that's great but the bigger picture worries me. We live on hope but for a lot of that we were less of it.
RVP is proving to be the world class player we all knew we had. He, unfortunately for him, looks like the 14 year old playing for the under 10s. He's too good for the players around him. Late at night, in bed, when the silence enhances your thoughts, you wouldn't blame him if the darkness persuaded him to leave sooner rather than later. He's good enough to play with the best & during his time with us we have got rid of them & replaced with the average. Granted all the other really classy players are broken but are there enough of them to make RVP want to stay. We need to give him a reason to stay. We need to give him the hope we crave. This summer was hopeless.
Yet while we keep scratching out wins the hope clings on. I've seen how pretty we can be and I want that back. No more managers covered in shower gel especially with Stoke coming to town. Win in France? Win on Sunday? No idea. We can but hope (& hide the soap.)
- Posted using BlogPress from an iTelephone. You think of Steve Bruce in a shower at your own risk. This blog will not be responsible for any trauma or therapy that may result.
Then it stopped. Steve removed the mask and started to unbutton. The confidence drained as we decided to let a really poor Sunderland make a game of it. They went close then won a daft free kick that an old boy planted beautifully. By the end of the first half Steve was soaping up. It was as ugly and unpleasant as that. Poor Jenkinson was caught and Cattermole made Sczzzzzer's dive look world class. Sunderland could've been 3-1 up but then so could we.
The second half was more of the same. We were generally on top but we are The Arsenal and they are the man u retirement home for pricks so we should be. Sunderland looked dangerous before the break yet resorted to assaults just outside their box in the second half. Maybe they knew how shit the free kicks would be. Twitter tweeted that we hadn't scored like that for 100 years as each inept player thumped them over. Finally RVP was allowed a poke. Boom! Top corner! Outta jail! 3 points.
For large parts of yesterday we looked like a poor 80s tribute team. Don Howe would be proud of how uninspiring we looked. The crowd feared the worst. Frustration set in. It was nervously quiet. Right or wrong the only noise is exasperation. We won. We won ugly. That's the form of Champions! 10 points in 2 months. That's the form of the bottom 3. That performance, as a whole, showed we are nowhere near the corner let alone turning it. Sunderland were utter shit and we weren't much better. WE WON! I know, that's great but the bigger picture worries me. We live on hope but for a lot of that we were less of it.
RVP is proving to be the world class player we all knew we had. He, unfortunately for him, looks like the 14 year old playing for the under 10s. He's too good for the players around him. Late at night, in bed, when the silence enhances your thoughts, you wouldn't blame him if the darkness persuaded him to leave sooner rather than later. He's good enough to play with the best & during his time with us we have got rid of them & replaced with the average. Granted all the other really classy players are broken but are there enough of them to make RVP want to stay. We need to give him a reason to stay. We need to give him the hope we crave. This summer was hopeless.
Yet while we keep scratching out wins the hope clings on. I've seen how pretty we can be and I want that back. No more managers covered in shower gel especially with Stoke coming to town. Win in France? Win on Sunday? No idea. We can but hope (& hide the soap.)
- Posted using BlogPress from an iTelephone. You think of Steve Bruce in a shower at your own risk. This blog will not be responsible for any trauma or therapy that may result.
The imagery was... errr... interesting!
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