Category: Blog

Legends Are Made

(*Now with updated first link…)

As a Gooner, the hardest goal to take being scored against my beloved Arsenal will probably always be this one.

It’s not so much that my United supporting friends would bring it up for years to come, or even that it came moments after Dennis Bergkamp missed a penalty – although my love of Bergkamp did make it particularly hard to swallow. No, the reason it will always hurt is because as a young wannabe pro-footballer Giggs was my idol.

It’s not even particularly hard for me to say that as a Gooner. He was a left-footed winger in the classic style of wingers, and that goal was the sort of goal I dreamed about scoring. The importance of it, the style of it, and the way it looked so effortless; all things that a kid of sixteen years would want to do in a sport he adored.

“Keep an eye of Ryan Giggs, Kev”

My dad told me that as a boy of eight or nine, roughly two years after the welshman’s 1991 debut.

“He’s the player you want to keep an eye on. See how he finds space, always moves, intelligently uses the ball…”

And I did watch him. Despite my love of Arsenal, I watched him right up to the point that I decided I could no longer realistically want to be a professional footballer. I watched him when I decided I wanted to write for a living instead, and I watched him right throughout my late teens, and early twenties at university.

I still watch him now of course, and that I can is a testament to a man who has never accidentally shot a colleague with an air rifle, or obviously gone out to elbow someone in the head, and somehow get away with it (yes, I mean Wayne Rooney). What has he done? Well, he’s stayed in great physical condition, and continues to pose a threat and ‘do a job’. He’s never really courted celebrity (apart from some odd Fujifilm and Quorn adverts…but anyway…).

Not only that, but in appearing during the defeat against Chelsea – which I hugely enjoyed, for obvious reasons – he equalled Sir Bobby Charlton’s record of appearances for United. That doesn’t alone make him a footballing legend. But, that he’s achieved such a long and rewarding career in all those appearances might. And that I still rate him as one of my favourite ever non-Arsenal players in spite of scoring ‘that goal’, probably does.

In my book, anyway.

ATS

p.S: For more Giggs check this:

Cup Final Thoughts

Well I know it’s a bit late in the day, but let me get straight into it.

That was hard to take, but that’s football. Now let me explain yesterday’s post:

Essentially I felt that we lost the game rather than were particularly beaten. I know that Birmingham won the game and fair play to them for that, but the mistake which led to the Martins’ goal was an Arsenal error. Bad communication between defenders and keepers happens, but if a defender has committed he should lump it. I know I’m not alone in that opinion, and I feel for Koscielny that he had to learn that particular lesson yesterday.

I’ve heard people refer to that incident as one that was about as freak as the classic Nayim shot that beat Seaman. Not true: Nayim’s shot was a moment of cheeky genius, that caught out a great keeper. Martins’ goal was a piece of opportunism presented to him by two very good but young pros. I suspect Martins’ was bought and brought on in the game to snap up half-chances and he duly delivered.

It’s also worth remembering that the first goal came about as a result of a passage of play where Song and Wilshere had a rare moment of misunderstanding which led to a Birmingham corner. Two errors punished in the worst way possible then, but again that’s football. Birmingham should have had a penalty, we had a few chances, both teams hit the woodwork and we struggled to find the rhythm that thuds resoundingly when Cesc is on the pitch.

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that we struggle without Cesc, but I really didn’t foresee Rosicky starting in the midfield three. Arsene no doubt felt he deserved a shot and was ready, but with the greatest will in the world Cesc’s role in this team is possibly the hardest to fill. I like Tomas as a player though, he had a decent game, and I was tiring fast of other Arsenal ‘fans’ at yelling at him (and Arshavin) when something didn’t come off. Let’s not forget he had a good effort go just wide of Foster’s post in the second half, and that could have made it 2-1 to us.

I guess really that’s all I have to say. I know there were travel problems, but the sheer scale of the Arsenal support that left when Martins scored saddened/surprised/disgusted me. I stayed so long I must have been one of only scores of Gooners left, but trips to Wembley shouldn’t be taken for granted, and the sheer joy and sound of the Blues support was a sight to behold. Don’t get me wrong; I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest when the ball left Martin’s boot and nestled in the net, but I was sure it wouldn’t be an easy day at the office, and it didn’t prove to be.

The good news is that we’re still in three other competitions, and another Wembley trip (or…whisper it, two) could still be on the cards. I know the players will be hurting, and perhaps more than some of us who can go into work the next day and disassociate from the emotional depression football sometimes provides. But we fans as well as the players, and all those who work at the cub are all The Arsenal: There are plenty of games to go this season, and more challenges ahead.

Plus, sometimes, sometimes, disappointment will be followed by joy.

Here’s hoping this season proves that the case.

ATS

It’s Probably Bieber’s Fault

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

In the face!

Well that was an interesting weekend’s footy. There I was, having come on in the last 15 mins of my Sunday League team’s match. I was doing my customary non-winning of headers despite my Crouch-esque height and then -BEHOLD! – a pass through the middle for me to chase. Exactly the kind of pass that I’ll rattle after like an elongated antelope and have a crack at goal with. Shoot? I can do that.

Chasing a ball on the bounce I lobbed the keep with enough pace and insta-calculation of erratic incalculable wind-power to sneak it over the line and trundle  it just inside the post, beyond the chasing defender. I spun around for a bit of a “cheeky ‘what’d I do?” shrugging celebration, followed by an expletive-fuelled fist-pump and all was rosey.

3 – 2. Ten mins on the clock. We’d gone 1 – 0 down, one man down, to 1 – 1, to 2 – 1 down, 2 – 2  and then…I come on and wow, might have scored the winner. Except:

My own fault. If I’d jump for headers I’d be a good foot an a half away from anyone’s elbow, but that’d be too easy. Thwack in the face, I felt a slight crunch and then there was a hell of a lot of blood. I stayed/dazed on and then we drew 3 – 3.

“Hang on, this reminds me of some metaphorical face smashing  just yesterday”,

I thought to myself as the red scattered upon the grass like Gunner confidence, and my goal was cancelled out by a late shot.

On Saturday in Tyneside, Arsenal collapsed under the weight of a combination of Diaby’s pyschologically understandable reaction and subsequent sending off, Djourou’s knee knock, Barton and Nolan’s cretinous behaviours, and the winner of this week’s Best Hash of Officiating, Phil “BUT HOW?” Dowd.

Actually I blame the guy at the Emirate’s screening who chirped at half time:

“Well, normally at screening’s it’s either a draw or a loss!”

….Cheers mate.

Well the Arse drew, but United inexplicably came up against an Uberinformazoided Wolves and bizarrely Arsenal closed the gap. Huh, didn’t see that coming. And “but it could have been less of a gap” sayers can shh. It isn’t, stop whining. A point closer to the leaders than many would have expected Arsenal to be off the back of odd-on Arsenal and United wins.

Sunday proved that Torres is just a human and not some kind of money-fuelled goal machine, having had the least touches of any outfield player in the Chelsea vs King Kenny’s Liverpool™ game (cheers Opta).

Also the football Gods clearly currently favour the magic of underdogs and the nostalgia of legends, and meanwhile Sky continued to prove that it can devalue any quality franchise or show with a tenuous link to some football goings on. Boardwalk Empire became (Fulham) Broadway Empire and Steve Buscemi morphed into Fernando Torres. Sky, that’s shit. Not not as bad as the time you made Wenger a cyborg though.

Birmingham’s Zigic proved that us tall blokes can play terribly and still score (represent), and some other teams won, drew and loss. I could do more about those but then I’m writing this late on a Sunday evening so there’s not really that much point. But, as I was saying, an interesting weekend’s footy.

Tomorrow I’ve got to face the colleague whom I assured Arsenal would maintain a clean sheet this weekend and that he should put money on it. Thing is you can’t legislate for sendings off. I think I’ll say:

“Well, you can’t legislate for sendings off.”

And you can’t. Nor indeed can you legislate for an elbow to the face. By a twat.

ATS.

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