Trembling deliriously, then delirious tremors (that ran from Newcastle all the
way to Shite Hart Lane), and of course followed today by delirium tremens! But worth it? Hell yeah!
All worth it to have watched this team develop together as
the season went on, culminating with the final unbeaten run of eight wins and two
draws out of 10. Oh, plus the slight matter of beating Bayern Munich in their
To watch our back five develop into the second meanest
defence in the league; Thanks in no part to the influence of Steve Bould. (Oh
shit I forgot, Arsene Wenger won’t let Bould train the team – Bollix).
Has anyone seen or heard from Stewart Robson?
And speaking of Bould, I was sat there on my sofa, with my
life-size replica Pat Rice teddy, so I could copy Arsene from the West Bromwich
Albion game on the final day last year, and as Pat got thrown to the ground in
celebration when the final whistle went (he wasn’t hurt don’t worry), I couldn’t
help but notice Arsene throwing his arms around Mikel Arteta – a big hug,
followed by a nod and a handshake from Bould – “see they don’t talk, I told
yeah!”. Pure utter plops. It was more like a “nice one boss, that’s one job
done. We’re getting there”. It’s that no-nonsense steeliness from Bould that’s
been seen in our back five, and who’s to say that he wasn’t instrumental in the
dropping of Wojciech Szczesny and Thomas Vermaelen. “Not talking? Yeah right!”
“Mork calling Robson, come in Robson.”
Worth it? Hell yeah! To see Andre Villas-Boas prancing up
and down along the sideline like a Portuguese Louie Spence, like a doozer from
Fraggle Rock with a sore throat and a sun-tan, all in vain. And to see in
behind him that cretinous oaf Stefan Freund, crawling along the touchline like
an oversized Iguana that’s just found someone’s stash of speed, every time The
Spuds got within a witches tit of the penalty box. Crawling around like a
German version of Gollum, whose head got stretched in a vice, all in vain.
Haha, worth it? Are you kidding me?
HQ “attention all officers, keep eye’s peeled for a missing person,
just been reported. Described as being a tall, middle aged, balding, depressed
stocking of shite, answers to the name of Robson. Approach with caution as he
can spread severe bullshit and rage within seconds of meeting.
Aww what a beautiful way to end a feckin horrible season, with the red and
whites dancing in delight and a chimp walking around like his ringmaster stole
his banana. So beautiful in fact that I’m struggling to even give out about
anything, life is good, oh what the hell, it is fucking excellent. Sheer Bliss….this is how I feel at the moment.
But this is how I’m
Well I didn’t have to struggle for long, I forgot about my
old friend Twitter, the ideal place to get driven into a feckin rage.
I’d totally forgot that all of us “fans” wouldn’t be
celebrating. I forgot about the ones who wanted us to fail so they could get
scarves or bin bags or severely injured badgers or something to wave about and
take to the streets, and force the board to take action. Ah yes, the Wenger Out
I forgot that they would be willing and hoping Newcastle United
to score, and therefore allow our nearest and dearest rivals to get in the Champions
League ahead of us, thus holding onto their top players and getting extra cash
to spend, and driving us into God only knows. And they call themselves fans? Aaaaarrrrggggghhhhh!
“Stewart Robson to reception please.”
I also forgot about the Twittagers or Twanagers (Twitter
managers) or whatever the fuck they should be called. You know the ones, ‘he
should sign “x”’, ‘no way is “y” good enough’, ‘he should be on the left’, ‘no
way is he a striker.”
Now, if Arsene logged onto Twitter daily for assistance and
help in his decision making (thank fuck he doesn’t), then getting fourth place
truly would’ve been an achievement, as he would’ve guided a team consisting of:
I can’t exactly remember who the huge goalkeeper
meltdown involved actually
Roger Johnson (Hahahaha)
Mohamed Diame – The ultimate meltdown starter.
You get my drift, these are just some of the players that
our own fans, our “Twittagers” wanted to sign badly, really badly, and totally
fucking melted down when our manager didn’t sign them, resorting to abuse of
Wenger and the board, and then within seconds the same folks would be ranting
about how much deadwood we have. Well that there teamsheet has more deadwood in
it than the poxy houses of parliament.
Just because you can win leagues and trophies on Football Manager,
and sign the best players in the world just by simply clicking a button,
doesn’t mean the “real” job is as easy. I for one know that computer games do
not reflect the truth of real life. Take it from me; I still have the scars
from the time Wonderboy was first released. Who would’ve thought that you
actually can’t skateboard form tree-top to tree-top, I won’t even mention the
testicular injuries when Street Fighter came out.
I personally loved the fact that in January, Wenger placed
all his trust and reputation in the group of players he had, didn’t run out
panic buying cack and then have the same cack sucking up wages, when he knew
that’s half of his mission this summer, was to clear the decks, free up wages
and make room for proper signings at long last. He kept the faith, and big up
to him for that. And God didn’t the lads repay the faith shown.
So poor young Dexter Basset-hound Chumblywarner’s favourite
player isn’t getting picked by Wenger, and Mummsy just got his name put on his away
jersey, and he’s pissed off so he takes to Twitter to abuse the manager and
club, etc. And unfortunately, our Dexter also has lots of followers who swallow
the bollocks he rolls out, and before we know it we’ve got a Twitter meltdown
on our hands. People just don’t seem to take the time to think things through and
form an opinion of their own. They just log on and accept what they read and
then push it on themselves, feckin nonces, seriously, try it sometime, form
your own opinion, discuss it, don’t push it, listen to someone else’s opinion,
take it on board, and who knows, you might be right, you might be wrong, or
between you, you might combine to make something that makes sense…and it means
you won’t be a mong anymore.
It’s getting so out of control, I think it’s time for
“Twasbo’s” (Twitter Asbo’s), dished out for stupidity. Any “Whatever happens
today, I’ll still be a supporter” – I should fucking hope so, that’s what it
says on the tin mate. TWASBO’d for that.
We should have Twitter policed by a Judge Dread type figure,
I’m thinking Martin Keown in superhero spandex type of thing.
“Wenger hasn’t got a clue, he’s destroying our club, and
sucking the money out of it.” – Fucking TWASBO’d for that.
Or the “I can’t believe that we’ve signed another unknown,
Ligue 2 player on a free, I thought this was meant to be the big spending
summer” – TWASBO’d for that for sure. After Yaya Sanogo’s signing other day; if
anyone can’t see that it’s a low-cost chance, that’s worth a pop, might be a
Nicolas Anelka, or if not we make a million or two in a year or two, deserve to
And then there’s our beloved media. What a bunch of nobjockies,
probably sitting at home rocking forward and backwards on their office chair,
looking at the back page spread they’d prepared, with images of The Grim Reaper
tapping Arsene on the shoulder as he winces in pain on the sideline as another
chance is missed. The bellends have been waiting years for us and him to fail,
the reason? Fucked if I know, but how dare us try doing things
properly/sensibly. But they’ll just end up feeling like shit, and disappointed.
Just ask the Spuds, how long have they been waiting for us to fail. Haha fuck
So that’s why it’s a shame to see Twitter used for such club
bashing from our own support, we’ve got enough of that from the media, why the
feck should we add to it. We should be the polar opposite, not justifying the
shite that they write.
I even heard a commentator say that Arsenal have been poor
this season, and that Tottenham have had a great season. What in the holy name
of fuck is that all about? We’ve got fourth place, the Champions League again
for the 16th year in a row. After a shite start we’ve got more
points than last year, whereas they finished fifth with their highest ever
points total, whereas last year they were fourth, so they have actually gone
backwards, but not one fucking media outlet has even mentioned this. Jeez.
Now I’m not saying I love seeing our players celebrate
getting fourth like we’d just won the title. “It’s only fourth “, but
in the context of where we’ve been, who we lost, where we’re going and who we
were competing against, it warrants every fucking right to celebrate. I think
of all the years it would’ve been the most damaging time to finally slip up,
but think now of the benefits of the run we’ve had and the building that can be
done can only benefit us, and we look more solid, and more like a team again.
So here’s to the future.
Anyway, as I said,
I’m too calm, relaxed and happy to have too much of a rant this week. The piece
is a lot calmer and methodical than what you’ve got used to, or will see in the
future. Don’t worry, silly season starts now, so the blood pressure will rise
very fucking quickly, trust me on that!
I couldn’t leave without a mention of something that’s been
bothering me, the Manchester United manager situation.
I’ve realised why Sir Alex Ferguson was so adamant to push
for David Moyes to be his successor, he’s keeping it in the family. Moyes is
actually the result of a drunken shag between Fergie and Dennis Law. Think
I didn’t want to say anything until I got DNA proof, so I
set up a lab in the shed, but I think the red pube that I got was actually from
the ugly one out of Girls Aloud.
And one more thing on the Wayne Rooney situation/speculation
linking him with us. I for one can’t blame the guy pushing for more money, now
that I realised he is having his second baby. Now I for one understand how
tough it is to try to raise two kids on £250,000 a week, it’s got to be tough
with the price of nappies and baby wipes nowadays (and that’s just for his own
dining purposes). So if we are really serious about signing him, then surely
we’ve got a room full of nappies available now that Andrey Arshavin and Big
Baby Nicklas Bendtner are leaving. And if there’s one thing that Wayne’s a
sucker for, it’s a good head of hair. So surely we could offer him offcuts of Mikel
Arteta’s – deal done.
Phew, well sorry folks, I’ve actually rambled on a bit
longer than I thought. And that’s after me saying I didn’t have much to add
this week. But as the Counting Crows said, “Well darling, if this shit’s come
out, then I suppose that the shit’s went in”. And God, did we have to swallow
some shit this year.
Anyways, what a happy few days
it’s been, and it’s going to be
Tuesday/Wednesday football for us again next year, we can all keep watching Masterchef
on a Thursday night –Yeehaw! I Feel like Podolski.
So keep the faith, and keep your sanity, UTA…