It’s been a while
Hi people, long time no write. I will confess that it wasn’t for football related stress that I took a break for a while, more so the endless tit for tat on Twitter, endless fighting over fuck all, bitching and overall nastiness that was hanging over the place during the tough run we had, or actually come to think of it, even during the good times.
So I said rather than coming on here, trying to write my usual childish gibberish, I wouldn’t, I’d end up in tumultuous rants, so I took a break instead.
I return now, as we approach what I believe to have been a really good season, well one I’m proud of anyway (cue the ‘you’re brainwashed’ ‘accepting mediocrity’ bullshit.). But like I say “I” am proud of it. I’ve been lucky to get to a few games this year, and I’ve had a ball and enjoyed some amazing football, some of which not many teams, in the Premier League anyway would be capable of producing.
Napoli – that first half, wow, Mesut Ozil, Aaron Ramsey and Olivier Giroud were almost telepathic that night.
Norwich – to experience the weird sensation of the stadium sort of celebrating, as we waited to see what the fuck just happened on the big screen for Jack Wilshere’s goal. Then! going mental!
That sunny FA Cup early kick off v Everton; what a blast, the whole place was in great form, the first proper sunshine of the year, early drinks, and the first proper glimpse of Ozil at full tilt for 90 minutes. (I was that drunk I missed flights and had to keep a bin company for the night in Heathrow).
I’m proud of the football, but also, the way the manager and the team kept their heads when everyone else had their’s buried in Roberto Martinez’s arse, and got the job done, for Champions League qualification. Even with the horrible hammerings we took, we still might have snuck the league barring the unlucky draw with Swansea, Joe Hart’s save, Giroud’s thunderbolt hitting the bar v Everton, etc, etc. Progress? You bet your bollocks.
Anyhow, I digress. The behaviour of some still has me pissed off, so I decided for the week that was in it, that I’d try something us Irish are meant to be good at, allegedly being scholars, poets and playwrites. My charge shall be “Attempted Poetry”, possibly being upgraded to “Assault with a friendly weapon”. Here goes, I’ll leave it for you to judge – sorry, might be a bit long, but it was a long season –
Arse Spangled Banner –
Strange little people that live in my phone,
Lots are quiet happy, but most they just moan.
The little people that live in my phone.
Back to the summer where the seasons begun,
Frolicking and drinking in the summer sun,
High hopes and dreams for the season to come.
Then there’s Billy No Mates, in his bedroom he’s stuck,
Typing bullshit rumours, Reus, Cavani,
Sign ‘em Arsene, come on to fuck.
The season approaches, and they all start to sob,
“Fuck sake Wenger, just do your job”,
“He’s only a wanker. Spend a few bob”.
Season starts, let’s hope it’s a thriller,
No players bought,
A home defeat to Villa.
Buckets of shite, flies out from their mouths,
“Fuck off” “Venga out”.
More words of ITK horseshit typed in Billy’s room,
The fans swallow anything,
During this impending doom.
“Put your hands in your pockets”, “Suarez should be got”,
Stop making money,
Selling John Henry pot.
“We’re doomed, we’re fucked, we should be buyers not sellers”,
He’ll have to be sacked,
If we can’t beat our shadow dwellers.
“The Spuds will batter us”, our ‘Fans’ say,
They’ve spent much more money?
But you forget they can’t play.
“ONE – NIL TO THE ARSENAL”…
Amidst all the clamour and celebrating that night,
Ivan had taken a flight.
A striker, a keeper, any signings are pined,
Then all of a sudden
Mesut Ozil is signed.
The whole club is a buzz, all in a good mood,
Just beaten The Spuds and got Ozil,
But still some they brood.
Onwards and upwards, to table top we go,
And that’s where we’d stay,
For most of the show (precisely 128 days)
Just after Christmas came the biggest shock,
Aaron Ramsey inured,
Oh now we’re fucked.
FA Cup, Tottenham, now with a Gunner in charge,
Yet another win,
Theo gives it large.
TWO – NIL TO THE ARSENAL….
That good day turned sour,
For one big reason,
Smartarse Walcott was gone for the season.
With no Ramsey, no Theo,
There was a shortage of goals,
Not helped by Giroud always needing his hole.
A few difficult weeks,
Not a lot of scores,
But still big Ollie kept sneaking in whores.
Top of the table, we hold by our skins,
Then we took a battering,
From the ones who dip bins.
Exit from Europe, now a difficult run,
Please pass me my gun.
No goals v Utd, then we got two,
Against the bin dippers,
In the cup we were through.
We throttled The Toffees, got unstuck in Munich,
Another win over Tottenham,
Left those fuckers sick.
ONE – NIL TO THE ARSENAL…
Poldi and co. taking selfies, a thing they’d regret,
For the very next week v Chelsea,
We got our biggest hammering yet.
Our fans weren’t happy,
Twitter went spastic,
Thank God Per and co. aren’t quite so plastic.
A Flamini o.g., then Joe Hart’s heel,
A sticky toffee drubbing,
No luck this year I feel.
A semi v Wigan, during penos we pray,
That we’ll be going to Wembley,
In the middle of May.
Then we kept improving, and started to play,
Injured players returning,
To lead us here to today.
Fourth place assured, only seven points off top,
All things considered
Would we have done better with Klopp?
Now to all you moaners, I remember you say,
All you wanted was to challenge,
And win some silver in May.
128 days top, the Cup Final to come,
Stop acting like children,
Sulking, sucking your thumb.
Stop bitching and moaning at anyone about you,
Just go say your prayers,
At Dennis’ new statue.
Wenger in, Wenger out, not sure,
Let’s all join on Saturday,
For a verse of “She Wore….”
So fingers crossed on Saturday, I won’t be alone,
I’ll have happy little drunk people,
Living in my phone.