DB’s Silly Season Diary
Sanchez, Schneiderlin and Shirt Rage
I decided to wait until July 1st to start writing this, even though it’s been a fortnight since you heard from me last. I hope you’ve all survived without me, and have been following the golden rules to surviving the Silly Season I’ve provided you with so far.
Although there has been plenty of speculation over the past week or so, with much pant wetting over such nuggets as someone nobody had ever heard of before announcing that Alexis Sanchez and Morgan Schneiderlin were “close” (yeah I know, what could possibly go wrong there?) it has only been just that – speculation.
I can’t remember who it was who “announced” that now and quite honestly, as I’m still adopting the “not until I see it on .com” approach, I couldn’t really give a shit. The internet is an amazing invention, one of, if not the most important in many of our lifetimes. Among many, many things, it has made global communication available at the click of a mouse, and a wealth of information available at our finger tips.So, I’ll be fucked if I’m going to use it to Google every cunt who appears on Twitter with “sources”, and cross referencing to see whether their past “info” was correct.
Not when you can use the internet to find stuff that is much more useful anyway. Like this….
Other than all that bollocks we’ve had the action hotting up in the World Cup as it enters the knockout stages which, in truth, brings its own problems.
First off we have the conundrum of not being sure whether we want Joel Campbell to be good or shit. If he’s good then we don’t know whether that’s good or bad – is it good because we know that we have a talented striker that may be coming back to us next season, or is it bad because it might mean we don’t get the “marquee” striker we crave, and will instead start the season with Olivier Giroud, Campbell and Yaya Sanogo?
And, if he’s shit, is that good because there is a chance we will get the “marquee” striker we crave, or bad because we have a shit striker coming back to us next season and will start the season with Giroud, Campbell and Sanogo?
Then of course there is the fact that anyone performing well in the latter stages will be someone we should sign, joining those that we should sign who caught the eye in the group stages, added to those we hope nobody else signs, and those we wanted to sign before the World Cup, which would lead to us starting the new season with around 150 players.
Well, at least we would have depth…
Lastly, there’s the fact that there are too many days without football, which means we have to find other things to “discuss”, and with this being Silly Season, these “discussions” tend to revolve around the latest bullshit rumours doing the rounds.
Of course, nobody really knows what is actually going on, but I don’t suppose there’s much point in letting fact get in the way of a good meltdown is there? If there is a rumour that Arsenal had offered £40m for Sanchez, it will be dismissed as rubbish, but if there is a rumour that Arsenal have bid £1.99 and a pair of Emmanuel Eboue’s old Arsenal socks for Sanchez, then let the meltdown commence….
Anyway, I appear to have digressed somewhat from the point that I decided to begin writing this on July 1st, Puma Day.
If I’m honest, I chose to start from this day, as I had expected to wake up to find an official membership email in my inbox with a link that, when clicked, took you to a personalised message from each of our new signings, decked out in our shiny new Puma kit, but alas, wasn’t to be.
I did find this though….
We have been treated to seeing the new kit though, which of course is another opportunity to jump on the outrage bus if you’re so inclined. Honestly, mate, no amount of analysing every kit from every angle is going to change the fact they don’t make kits with fat cunts like us in mind these days.
The kit looks ok to me, well, it’s just a kit at the end of the day isn’t it? I’ve seen a few pics of it on Twitter, kindly researched by others while I was busy finding things like this….
Come July 2nd and along with the Sanchez rumblings there are strong signs that Mathieu Debuchy may be coming in at right back. I welcome him with open arms purely down to the fact that he decided to be a little bit shit the other night, just for banters sake.
As I write, on Sunday evening, the only word on Arsenal fans lips now is Sanchez. There is a sheer terror spreading that the deal doesn’t get “Higuained”, or “Trabelsified”, or even “Cotteed” and we are all doing our best not to jinx it.
We’re all thinking back to what we did when we were told Gonzalo Higuain was getting on a plane.
“Must not look at YouTube… Must not look at YouTube…. Must not look at YouTube…. Must not look at YouTube….Must not tweet #WelcomeAlexis….. Must not tweet #WelcomeAlexis….. Must not tweet #WelcomeAlexis….. Must not tweet #WelcomeAlexis…..Even in jest….”
Well, that was all going just fine until Martin Kemp went and fucked it all for us by welcoming Sanchez to the “Gooner Family.”
“He tweeted what? Cringey shit! Fucking Gooner Family my arse, get the tranny shagger on the phone, now!
Eh? But why would they do that when they don’t even know who the fucking person that died is? Fucks sake, Juventus it is then…”
With any luck, the next time you hear from me, I’ll be writing about the most audacious stunt of all time, as Sanchez is revealed at the Puma kit launch, parachuting on to the roof of The Armoury to Spandau Ballet’s “Gold”.
Just make sure you don’t jinx it, as it will be all your fault. Avoid any temptation to jump on YouTube and use the internet for something more useful instead….
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…