Week 32 – I Don’t Want to Go to Chelsea
As I have said many times, I write this diary the way I do to look at what we go through as supporters during the season, in particular how things can change over the course of a season, a month, a week, a day or a matter of hours. To say this past week has been a perfect example of that would be the understatement of all understatements.
It’s easy to forget that the week started in the best possible way a week can start – basking in the glow of a North London derby win, and laughing at that lot up the road.
Just taking a look at Micky Hazard’s Twitter timeline at the start of the week was pure joy in itself.
If it’s wrong to laugh at a man seemingly on the verge of a full scale mental breakdown, then it isn’t wrong if that man is Micky Hazard.
Some of his retweets also showed that there may be a few of our friends up the road in the same boat (or taxi) themselves. Glorious stuff.
We have reduced a grown man, and seemingly 99% of a fan base to believing that someone taking a selfie is provocative and dangerous.
Add to that their Europa League exit on Thursday night, and it made for a good week all round.
Fast forward a few days and it’s as if none of that even happened isn’t it? You don’t want me to go into the details of the Chelsea game do you? Of course not, you’ve heard enough about it, you’ve read enough about it. Let’s be honest, you’ve just about fucking had enough of it, haven’t you?
If you haven’t, I would estimate that at least 90% of Twitter is out there for you to, erm, chat about it with.
Good luck with that!
Speaking of which, the toxic atmosphere of social media in the wake of the humiliation (sorry) at Chelsea reached such epic proportions that I found myself sucked in to it myself on Saturday evening.
I’m surprised anyone “normal” that follows me still does after that, to be honest! I would like to think that it’s because they know deep down that my occasional weakness for calling someone out going over the top with their abuse of the manager or players is due to my passion for the club.
It got me wondering if we were like this in the pre-social media world. We would debate stuff in the pubs or whatever, but did defeat really bring the worst out of us in such a way that we would openly abuse each other day in, day out?
I mean, you wouldn’t seek out an Arsenal fan in the street, check what his stance on the manager is, then call him a cunt would you?
(That is a rhetorical question, by the way. If you answered “yes”, then seek professional help. Immediately.)
You’re not even allowed to say anything these days without it meaning you also think something else.
“You’re not allowed to criticise such and such without being called something or other”
“Ah, here we go, people blaming the ref again….”
You see, it works both ways.
Some are literally waiting with tweets in their drafts to jump on whatever player it is they don’t like, then when they hit “tweet” they refresh like fuck awaiting someone to HAVE A DIFFERENT OPINION, then give it the old “Oh, you’re not allowed to criticise such and such without blah, blah, blah”.
Then, someone criticising a ref or official is automatically “blaming the ref for the defeat, blind, deluded, Wenger apologist” etc, etc.
Excuse me for this, but if a referee can’t send off the right player he is as thick as fucking pig shit. End of. I would say it is ok to point this out.
Anyway, I think the best thing is to let these people exist in their own little world.
If you sit there literally all day repeating yourself on Twitter, there is every chance you are mentally ill or sexually frustrated. It’s past midnight now, and I can still see people tweeting pretty much the same as they have all day.
Give it a fucking rest and have a wank or something. Go get yourself looked at, while the rest of us move on. I’m not saying everything in the garden is rosy, only a fool would, but when things get this bad, after the dust has settled, sometimes you just have to remember that what happens on the pitch is not the be all and end all of being a football supporter.
We love the club, we are passionate about the club, we want the club to win things, of course. But unless you are a Chelsea fan with a soft spot for Manchester City, who used to support Liverpool in the 80’s and Man United in the 90’s, there is every chance you didn’t just start supporting a club purely for the sake of trophies.
If that makes it sound like I accept failure, or am happy for the club to just plod along “playing for the fourth place trophy”, then you are wrong, and anyone that knows me knows how passionate I am about The Arsenal.
Some of those people I will be joining at Wembley for an FA Cup semi-final, and there is still the prospect of an FA Cup final, perhaps even an FA Cup win.
I have met and spoken to some amazing people this season, and that is what will be my overriding memory of it. Let’s hope it ends on a positive note.
That is where my focus is going to be from now until the end of the season – enjoying the rest of it, rather than wasting my time arguing with idiots.
Especially the bloke who says he’s “not sure if he wants us to get top four, so Wenger will leave, but then it ruins it for the next bloke, so he’s not sure what he wants.”
Up The Arsenal
I should tell you a bit about myself. I’m not a stat man or a tactical genius, and you certainly won’t hear my opinion on Arsenal Football Club finances. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that, it’s just not my thing. Don’t get me wrong, some do this very well but, for me, football has always been about what’s on the pitch, watching the game, discussing it over a beer with your mates after, then going into work on Monday morning either gloating or defending your team to the hilt, resisting the temptation to punch the token deluded Tottenham fan in the throat. Oh and my Dad and brothers are all with the Dark Side…