So, as we approach the final throes of the transfer window, we’ve actually gone and signed a CB (that’s what they’re officially called now – the acronyms have completely taken over…) in the form of Gabriel Paulista from Villarreal.
Arsene had already thrown a total curveball in his Friday presser and admitted that negotiations were on-going, just when everyone was primed and waiting for the old “I don’t know Gabriel Paulista” line.
That is the case for the rest of us though, to be fair.
I’ll be honest and say that all I know about him is that he has been described as a “Brazilian Koscielny”, presumably because nobody had heard of Kos when we signed him either.
Anyway, I think it was quite apparent that the deal was going to happen once he’d said that, and to add to that, Villarreal announced on Twitter on Saturday evening that we had agreed a deal for Gabriel, and from around 9pm, if you went onto YouTube all you had to do was type “G” or “P” and the predictive search would do the rest for you.
Signing a player in a position that we need, can only be a good thing, and with Joel Campbell going the other way, all he has to do is slip him his work permit when they pass at the airport and he’s good to go.
Like I say, I don’t know a great deal about him, but by the looks of him you wouldn’t want to bump into him in a dark alley.
Oh, and his name is Gabriel, the Paulista bit is due to him being from São Paolo. This is similar to why the singer Adele, from Tottenham, rarely uses her full name of Adele Shithole.
Other than the signing of Dagenham Dave, I would go as far as to say that this has been possibly the most boring transfer window in the history of the world so far.
Not just for Arsenal, but in general.
I’m not sure even Deadline Day can save it now, especially now we’re not going to have the possibility of someone whipping a purple dildo out live on Sky.
The only way that I can see it being rescued at the moment is for Jim White to have a body part hacked off every time a club makes a signing.
Perhaps things will change in the next couple of days, but if not, our best hope of some sort of excitement might be old ‘Arry accidentally leaning on the button for his automatic window while giving one of those interviews and his blancmange face exploding.
Things are going pretty well on the pitch as well, as we progressed in the FA Cup against Brighton after an unbelievable weekend of upsets, and a home draw against Middlesboro got us all prematurely dreaming about a day out in May once more.
Probably best not to get ahead of ourselves with all those upsets flying about, but with players returning from injury and that, it could be quite an interesting few months coming up.
The one down side to this game was listening to Robbie Savage sounding like someone was pinching his nuts after the Brighton goals, and the absolute wankery of Phil Neville suggesting he would “two-foot” Tomas Rosicky.
Yeah alright, mate, like fuck you would.
Unless of course you had a certain Mr Roy Keane to hide behind maybe??
Speaking of injuries, I have a guest appearance on the blog for you this week….
Tales from the Treatment Room – with Matthieu and Mikel
Hi all, your captain Mikel Arteta here!
As you know Mathieu Debuchy and I are in for a long stint on the sidelines, the next three months to be precise!
To pass the time, we thought we would give you a look at what goes on behind the scenes when players are injured…….
Abou was really down this week; it’s now looking like he will be leaving us in the summer, rather than attempting his 768th comeback from injury.
He’s been limping around with a look on him like an old dog on that TV show Animal Hospital that knows he’s about to be put to sleep.
Jack saw him sitting alone outside on Friday when he popped out for a fag, and tried to cheer him up with some banter, saying “Bloody hell Abou you look like you’ve just had a visit from Rolf Harris…”
Abou came back in with a confused look on his face….
“Hey Mikel who’s Rolf Harris?”
My explanation didn’t cheer Abou up at all……
Jack returned from his fag break to find Abou sobbing on my shoulder, and felt terrible when Mathieu explained his faux pas.
“Don’t worry Abou I’ve got an idea, bruv! Let me just make a couple of calls…..”
Mathieu shot me a look as if to say “Oh my God, what now?!”
Similar to the look he had on his face when Colin Lewin tried to pop his shoulder back in.
Jack left the room, with his iPhone to his ear and a Benson and Hedges hanging from his mouth.
Around five minutes later he returned, with a cheeky grin on his face.
“I’ve just spoke to a couple of pals, and I got this for you, bruv”
He passed Abou a William Hill betting slip with a phone number scrawled on it.
“Remember that Dan Smith prick?” he chuckled “that’s the number for the call centre he works in…..his direct number!” Jack turned the piece of paper over, by now pissing himself laughing “and that’s the address!” The laughing fit made him cough and splutter a bit and he left the room.
“Wojciech! Coming for a salmon, bruv?”
The next hour or so was a huge tonic for Abou as he first ordered a pizza and sent it to Dan Smith’s office, and then spent the rest of it ringing his direct number and hanging up.
We had to stop him though, when he shouted “I’VE GOT YOUR KIDS, DAN!”
Still, he left at the end of the day with a smile on his face at least.
That’s all for now, next week Mathieu will tell you all about the banter when they woke up Serge Gnabry from his cryogenically frozen state and we dressed up as old men, then told him it was the year 2065!