The office job had just about nuked my energy after a week of moving and not sleeping (who knew there were trucks and sirens in London?), so I was considering not sauntering to the Emirates for some cheeky fast-food and the Stoke match last night.
But, knowing that my seat would be empty and that there was a nutritionally questionable burger with my name on, I did. And, although it wasn’t one for the occasional attendee, it proved a solid three point victory for an Arsenal that can (currently) defend against and score from set pieces. Refreshing.
The random guy next to me was wide-eyed and dosed up, and as the game entered a nervy and absorbing final ten minutes he decided to roll a joint. His drug habits are his own, but the only grass that really needed the attention he was giving his silvers was that forming Szczesny’s goal line. So when he attempted to join in on the chants like:
Na-na Na-na Na-na Nammy Sasmiri! SASMIRI NAMMY SASmuriry..!
…or even tell the ref he was “funcking ranker”, that the Arsenal managed to maintain said goal lines’s virginity after an early header from Seb Squillaci made it 1 – 0 was more aromatic than his herbs. However, what was plain as the day was marred by looking at Pulis rant and rave was our lack of creativity once Cesc departed.
We passed and probed, but lacked the cutting edge that sometimes only a ringer can bring to Sunday League, and that only Cesc can truly provide at the hub of the Arsenal midfield.
Nasri can, and did, play there but his game is currently more that of a natural man-beater than pass sprayer and pace-setter, while Denilson sometimes looks like he has a contract with his boot makers demanding 90% of his passes are one touch, regardless of where or who they go to.
Granted it’s superb to see that Aaron Ramsey scored for Cardiff against Leicester this week, and he may well be the long-term replacement for when Cesc eventually departs. But for now, and certainly for last night, we miss him even when leading at home to a tough but rarely threatening Stoke. Hopefully he’ll be fit for Sunday, and it would be heartbreaking for him not to play, but if he doesn’t make it Birmingham will think themselves less under threat and no doubt smell a bit of insecurity.
At this point I’d like to say that in fact I jinxed both Cesc and Theo’s ankle by eagerly wearing my newly bought Cup Final hat, and that I take no responsibility for their injuries as this is just a poorly constructed bit of fantastical whimsy. Whimsy a bit like this tweet, retweeted by Andrei Arshavin.
Hey, it’s Russian humour I’m sure. Like pretending he’s out of form when in reality he’s going to single handedly win the League Cup Final and declare everyone in the ground a bunch of silly billies for ever doubting him. You take my completely insincere word.
Seriously though – who am I to comment on another man’s hate of Justin Bieber. After all Bieber completely lost my love and respect when he changed his hair. I mean, really. How can I sleep at…give me a break.
ATS