DB’s Season Diary
If you want the rainbow…..
A few days ago, in a galaxy just down the road…..
It is a period of civil war.
Rebel fighters, striking from a hidden internet base, have won their first victory against the evil Arsenal Empire, led by the evil Darth Wenger.
During a Twitter debate, rebel bloggers managed to steal secret plans to the Empire’s ultimate weapon, and made shitty A4 banners out of them.
Pursued by the Empire’s sinister stewards, Princess Highbury races home aboard a No.4 bus, custodian of the A4 banners that can save her people and restore freedom to the Goonerverse…..
It needs some work, but I might be onto something here. The characters are coming on nicely.
As well as the evil Lord Wenger, who is ruining the lives of people everywhere, we have the only man that can help the rebel alliance at the moment – Bouldie WOB Kenobi.
Then we have Jabba the Uzbek, Emperor Kroenke, and my personal favourite the two droids, loyal to the rebels – R2-Ooh2BA and EIE-P-O.
I’ll keep you posted on that, and I’m open to any input…….
Ok, on with the serious stuff then…..
Once More Into the Abyss…….
I thought I would get the serious bit out of the way before you’ve all killed yourself, or each other, after the Dortmund game.
It’s something a bit different to what you usually get from me (don’t worry it won’t last), and I must stress that everything you will read here is simply me expressing my opinion, not telling you how you should or shouldn’t think or behave.
I’m stressing that now as I’ve just read it back and it probably seems like I am, but there you go, don’t say I didn’t warn you anyway…..
The passion and emotions that are evoked in the name of supporting a football club are like no other.
For many of us it is ingrained into our very being. It’s not just a pastime or a hobby, it’s a big part of your life, whoever you are and wherever you are from, and you live it and breathe it to the point that it is something so consuming it becomes an excuse for behaving in a manner you wouldn’t consider anything close to normal in any other aspect of your life.
This has been the case for much of this season especially, but after Saturday’s loss to United, it reached boiling point.
I myself behaved in a manner on Twitter which I consider way beyond acceptable, heat of the moment stuff, perhaps, but unacceptable nonetheless. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one, and for things to get to that point, the blame can only lie with one man.
You weren’t expecting me to say Arsene Wenger were you?
What a load of old bollocks that is.
“Ooooh but he’s responsible for this divide among fans….he’s causing all this….”
So what if he is anyway? Doesn’t give us the right to behave like fucking idiots does it?
Grown adults resorting to rucking one another and internet slagging matches can blame their behaviour on a disagreement over who’s managing a football club now?
Consider how pathetic that sounds for a minute.
Like I said at the beginning, the passion evoked from supporting a football club is a strong one indeed, and I doubt anyone of us hasn’t crossed a line at some point.
It’s fine; this is always going to happen.
The least you can do is have the stones to take responsibility for your actions though.
The manager may be one of the causes of a rift between the fans, but sorry, he can’t be accused of making anyone act like a twat.
And I have acted like one of those on more occasions than I’m proud of.
Enough to make me ashamed, if I’m honest.
As I write I am witnessing some truly shocking stuff being posted on the internet, on both sides, and I am ashamed to be in any way associated with it.
Debating and piss-taking (it’s all about the #bantz, bruv) are one thing, and I’ll debate with you and take the piss out of you until the cows come home. Hell, I might even go as far as to belittle you, but at the end of the day, a line needs to be drawn.
I say the manager may be one of the causes because to me the divide in the fanbase runs deeper than that.
My personal opinion is that the Wenger In / Wenger Out debate is a symptom, rather than a cause, of a rift in the fanbase.
I can’t be arsed to go into it any deeper right now, I think I’ve used up all of my serious for one week, but suffice to say I think the only way a new manager would instantly heal the disharmony among Arsenal fans is if that new manager is the mighty Aslan.
I’m writing this on the eve of the Dortmund game, which will be followed by West Brom away, one of those lunchtime kick offs we thrive on….
I’m pretty sure that anything other than two wins will mean a meltdown of biblical proportions…..
Anyway, enough of the doom and gloom, it’s that time of year again……
Welcome to the Arsenal jungle.
For today’s Bushtucker Trial, the task is to try and have a sensible conversation while wading through a swamp of bullshit and bile while surrounded by thousands of Twitter Critters.
Despite being thick and smelly, wading through the bullshit and bile can be easily achieved by simply ignoring it, and keeping a good sense of humour about you.
The Twitter Critters are another matter though, as they nibble away at you, after feeding on the bullshit and bile leaving you in danger of if getting into your bloodstream and eventually your brain.
First up are the dreaded Acronymites, irritating beasts that will do their best to make sure you have a label pinned to you before you can pass them. The best way to swot an Acronymite is to simply utter the words “fuck off mate, I’m a grown up.”
Next up are the Flip-Floppers, the easiest of the Twitter Critters to deal with. Just ignore them and they’ll eventually tie themselves up in knots.
Be careful not to get distracted by these though, as you will walk straight into a swarm of bloggers, buzzing in your earhole and trying to tell you what you think.
The final step can be extremely tricky, as you fight your way through the AKB’s and WOB’s, concentration and focus is vital here, just keep looking ahead, don’t make eye contact, ignore them and they will be too busy attacking each other to bother you.
Any time you feel you’ve had enough…..you can either shout “I’m an Arsenal fan…get me out of here…” or just turn your fucking phone off and behave like a normal person.
Personally, now this situation has reached such a ridiculous level, I’ve found myself reaching a moment of clarity.
Believe it or not, it is possible to block all the insanity out, if you really want to.
I find myself looking forward to the next game I’m going to, getting to the pub before the game and enjoying the occasion with some of the truly great people I’ve met over the last couple of years.
And despite all the crap that flies about, there are some great people that follow The Arsenal.
People I wouldn’t have met if it were not for Twitter. (Bloody hell, if you’d told me a few years back I’d be saying that I’d have told you to piss right off.)
The people you experience the highs and lows together with.
I’ve honestly not been to a game in the last two years where I’ve wished I hadn’t bothered, whatever the result, and I will come back for more for as long as my wallet (and my liver) will allow me to, whether the manager is Arsene Wenger, the mighty Aslan or Ian fucking Beale.
Enough will never be enough for me.
Whatever the result, whatever the performance, the good will always outweigh the bad for me, and by the good I don’t mean the results.
As painful as it can get, the highs and lows, the dramas, the passion, the emotion are like nothing else, and experiencing every single aspect of it is what makes being a football supporter, an Arsenal supporter, special. This is the good.
The best way to experience this is together.
Until next time then; and remember this – If you want the rainbow, you’ve gotta put up with the rain.
Do you know which “philosopher” said that?
And people say she’s just a big pair of tits……
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…