“Dull as a bat, said my mother of Cousin Sidney” … the opening lines to a Dannie Abse poem. It’s the story of dim-witted Sidney, who signs up for war, and when he doesn’t return his family fear the worst though never turn the hall light off “lest his one son came home through a night of sleet …” Their worst nightmare is not knowing! Not knowing whether Sidney is dead or alive. And isn’t that just so being an Arsenal fan? Getting to the end of the season and not knowing. Not knowing what could have been.
Arsenal are a soft touch on the market, far from the rowdy buyers and sellers of Manchester City and Chelsea. Those are the type who flash their cash the way of the pretty girls and usually get the prize. Arsenal sit by in the corner keeping hidden their honesty and charm, so tempted to wave a note around – which unlike those boys at the bar isn’t daddy’s money – but clam up at the crucial moment. January was Arsenal’s chance to shout above the noise of a crowded room deeply crazed with what the big spenders would do next. By the end it was a new-look Liverpool who made the biggest scene, unaware of Arsenal sipping on a small glass of lemonade in the background.
The injury to Johan Djourou at the weekend was a chilling reminder of how finely balanced Arsenal’s defence is. JD20 restored peace by saying everything was fine, yet it was enough for fans everywhere to want to strangle Wenger. Nothing is more frustrating than listening to him prod at the idea that somebody might be brought in. His words flirt with the thought of spending like a naughty temptation. When he doesn’t, I get this recurring dream of the Frenchman staying late at work until everybody has left, sneaking into the vault where he sits crossed legged, staring at the money there for his disposal. Nervously he reaches out, and then retracts. What is it that bothers him so much?
See, it is and isn’t about winning trophies. The Premiership has become a feeding ground for billionaires who point to empty spots of land and order that new-age stadiums be built there. Gradually the league will have completely shed its skin of wooden seats and restricted views to show off a shiny plastic coating with brilliant lights of all colours. Because of this we can accept that trophies are not so easy to collect.
Still, when you have the quality that Arsenal do, it’s a crime to see it go unrewarded. Just when I thought the give-and-go was lost, Jack Wilshere comes along and makes it fashionable again. The old one-two is back and Arsenal continue to set trends, give life to old ones and light up the Premiership cat walk with bright ideas on modern football. The others cause a short-lived interest like a manikin gawking from the show windows of Next and Burton. Their fashion is last year.
Apart from the tragic refereeing of Phil Dowd all caught up in the hysteria of a Newcastle comeback, Wenger’s boys hit self destruct. The weekend’s fashion show came from the north east making an explosive start with TW14, giving the on looking Arsenal spectators a reassuring treat by way of his wide grin. There was confidence to their stride. But what had been one of the shows of the season quickly turned into a nightmare when the heal came off and Arsenal crashed off stage in an embarrassing heap.
Allowing Newcastle to alter the record books with a painful four goal comeback was a collective team problem. Well maybe. Certain players have proven how valuable they can be under the pressure cooker. Some just smell of panic. Surely a defender better than Sebastian Squillaci glues Arsenal towards victory even with a disadvantage? Would that talking point be immaterial if AD2 had not seen red?
A Champions League headliner with Barcelona is just around the corner. For a moment it looked as if Squillaci would be playing in that tie until JD20 came through. That really would have been a sorry state of affairs. Arsenal are already missing SN8 and a pairing of LK6 and SS18 leaves little optimism. Wenger’s backup plan is to play AS17 at the back. Is this any better? The last time AS17 played Barcelona a lofted pass over his head was the easy route to goal for Zlatan Imbrahimovic. A central midfielder has eyes for the ball and a habit of moving towards an opponent whenever they have possession. A decent centre half has eyes on the space behind him and the runners off the ball.
“Duller than a bat, said my father when hero Sidney lied about his age to claim rough khaki, silly ass.” Bats are blind and so was Sidney. In the end the inevitable happened and often that’s the case for Arsenal. Sometimes Wenger is blind to see the obvious, or is it us who are blind to understand his devices? Whatever, it doesn’t stop you wanting to strangle Wenger, but you can’t, because the guy is a mastermind and no more than a ‘silly ass’. Arsenal fans will hope the gamble pays off, maybe even exchange the lemonade for a shot of tequila, because worse than finishing the season with a cabinet that still isn’t the way it should be; full, would be finishing the season full of regret. Not knowing what could have been. Wenger, silly ass !!
THE ARSENAL
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