A Hulluva lot of shite

Wow. We are lucky and pony! Another last gasper draw against a team that on paper we should be handing their lungs to before we even leave the player’s tunnel.

We as a club are all over the gaff. Our fitness situation is a joke, with so many injuries already this season. The biggest gaff being that of Ozil, playing him when he said he had a niggling complaint, but wanted to play on. Errr. Are you going to listen to a player about their fitness? Fuck’s sake, so he played the remainder of the Chelsea game injured and is now PROPER fuckin’ injured, out until the new year. And it wasn’t our staff that came to that decision either. Ozil was pronounced DOA by the German national team during the international break, which looks a tad shady and shit our end.

We are also the most expensive team in the UK and the majority of the planet to watch, but fans knew that already. The press went mad, but we’ve known our club is a greedy for years. It’s that greed which keeps Wenger in a job too, Champions League qualification is glory and glamour aplenty for our board of directors, it keeps the wedge fully stacked and our club is one that doesn’t like change, the same old same old is what they like in the board room. Consistency above all else, little risk and comfy cushions. They dress the club up as being innovative, fresh, forward thinking, but that is total bollocks. In Wenger’s early years, that is exactly what we were, the most forward thinking club in the top division, but we have rested on those laurels and have been left behind by the other big teams now we have become stale and naieve. Wenger changed Arsenal for the better and brought us victories we could have only dreamed of, but as ruthless as it sounds, he’s done that now, it’s time for the next chapter. Wenger has not added to his revolution, maybe that is down to finance, who knows, but there has just been so many wasted opportunities. This year they are glaring us and him in the face, in fact they were before the start of the season too, yet they still remain on the back burner. A central defender and a defensive midfielder. These are canyon sized holes in our squad. Flamini is not the defensive midfielder we need, he is in fact a liability with the amount of fouls he gives away and his lack of pace. Arteta, is the same, the club skipper is just not up to it, but the biggest hole is in the heart of our defence. If one of our first choice centre backs get crocked, we have no back up and if we are truly honest about our centre backs, the vice skipper is not really up to it either, the BFG is a personal favorite of mine, but is he a Champions League starting centre back? I don’t think so.

So this game was a re-run of last season’s FA cup final. Luckily for us, Hull coudn’t defend a lead again. During the international break, Wilshire played very well for England, and he carried on in that rich vein of form against the Tigers, Sanchez setting him up from a cross only five minutes in, but the cheeky chappie couldn’t keep his header on target. But this encouraging start by him continued and along with Sanchez he had a good game as did Cazorla and Welbeck. We went 1-0 up through Sanchez just before the quarter of an hour mark, but Diame equalised just four minutes later. Hernandez made it 2-1 with a header and it required the late, late show once again. Welbeck scored the equauliser in stoppage time.

A hugely dissapointing result from a team that looked lost and confused. A fan base divided and a board which couldn’t give a fuck as long as we end fourth. All is not rosy at the corporate footy mecca of steel and glass with the huge superstore and the airline’s name with the massively overpriced tickets.


“Go on Chels, Go on Chels”. Oh f**k off…

F**king Chelsea. I hate the club, its players, the place, the people… The strangest thing about Chelsea FC is that if you spent the day in the area known as Chelsea, you would think that CFC is a rugby club. What with all the posh wa**ers dressed as if they are going hunting and ripping about in 4x4s. But most people forget that Chelsea football club is in Fulham, another posh area, but not quite as snooty nosed as Chelsea proper and it’s also home to one of London’s greatest streets, the North End Road. You can get pretty much anything you want or need on the North End Road, as long as it isn’t real.

Chelsea supporters; they are the coked up, badly dressed (still wearing Stone Island and Henri LLoyd when the rest of the casual community has moved on) and loud twats who when in a  pub call their club ‘CHELS’ “Goo on Chels, go on my son”. How a football club can be your son, is anyone’s guess, but a Chelsea fan is likely to call his nan, son. Odder still they will call their fathers son too.

Because they have spent load and loads of money they seem to think winning stuff is their right and the stroll around as if they are the kings of all the football kingdom. They have very short memories, though, and forget that before a criminal invested billions into their club, they supported a great stack of shit.

I got a ticket from one Chelsea fan I can abide, Boon (son), but since the game I haven’t spoken to him and I probably wont until we finally beat them, which may be in about five years.

Mourinho, the weazle, has made it his lot in life to be a bully and a shit to our manager. It’s beyond pathetic, but as much as Wenger pretends that it doesn’t ruffle his feathers, it clearly does and this match that annoyance boiled over to the point where Wenger pushed the little one. It wasn’t exactly Ali versus Foreman, but he got his point across, which from his body language translated as “Why don’t you just f**k off you horrible little c**t”.

Sanchez had been two footed tackled for the second time in as many games, with Chelsea obviously finding the Chilean our only threat.This pissed Wenger off and off he trotted to see if his player was ok, Mourinho confronted him because he walked near/or in his technical area, Wenger pushed the pesky f**er out of the way. As there is a history of niggles between the two, both have been grown up enough to shrug it off, so I suppose the supporters should too. Still, I would have loved Arsene to have stuck Mourinho’s head into a vat of boiling baboon shit, if such a vat had been close by during the altercation.

Boon son, who got me the ticket, did his weird victory jig which he does whenever Chelsea score against Arsenal and I am in the vicinity. He kind of does a truffle shuffle, moving his hands around his boat with his thumbs up, whilst making a noise which is a cross between Blakey off of On the Busses and Roland Rat. They won 2-0. Let’s not talk about it.


Back on the North Bank after my fantastic holiday and hanging out with my chums, wow what a life. Gotta love it, eh? The Turks turned up en masse, as you would expect, with the republic of North London being a hot bed of Turkish goings on and they made a great racket in the clock end, even throwing flares about and onto the pitch, giving it a real European footy night feel, instead of the rather sterile environment vibe that Ashburton Grove can some times give off on mid week matches.

It was a great night of football, if you are a gooner, anyway. Welbeck scoring a hattrick, Sanchez adding to his tally, Ozil playing well, Chambers, again looking solid and Sczesny getting sent off.

The arrogant one with the dreadful haircut was given a red card after bringing down a player in the area and the newbie Ospina was put in goal. Ospina couldn’t save the ensuing penalty, but he did pull off some remarkable acrobatics making some great saves. I’d love to see him nail down the number 1 position and freeze out the pole. Sczesny may have improved in recent seasons, but he is still capable of utter shiteness and some true competition for the onion bag guard has been needed for some time. Fabianksi may have redeemed himself with last seasons cup run, but he will not be missed, but the lad Ospina, looks quality.

Welbeck’s massive smile as he scored his hattrick and stood arms aloft, in front of the North Bank, was just wonderful to witness, it’d be massive to see him press on from here and show United what a grave fu**in’ mistake they have made. He is reading the passes from midfield very well and his pace is frightening. Handy was so happy he ran to the front of the Bank, and tried to share his KP Skips with him.

Sanchez survived a monstrous tackle and the other major news was Gala’s amazing away kit, purple with orangey gold trim, proper monster.

Vegas, Elvis, Love and the C Word.

The wife and I pissed off to the states for our ten year wedding anniversary. An unfortunate time what with our first Champions League encounter versus Dortmund, which we lost 2-0 and looked bollocks to boot. Southampton knocking us out of the league cup, doing Villa 3-0 and with the boy Welbeck netting his first goal as a Gooner and then the North London Derby. The shits took the lead, revelled in it and then Oxlade Chamberlain brought them back to reality, fuckin’ twats that they are, that finished 1-1.

A lot of games missed, but ten years is ten years and the lady is not a football fan. Handy had organised a chance to renew our vows at a Chapel with Elvis wedding us. It was was all going swimmingly, until Handy’s trip kicked in and he started screaming, “You aint Elvis, liar, liar, liar. You aint Elvis, you’re a shit eating c**t.” Handy made his way to the alter pushed me to the floor, pulled his cock out and urinated all over the King’s blue suede shoes.

Back home now after deportation. Handy has apologised to my wife and me by giving us a teddy bear, holding a foil balloon which says sorry on it. Handy is a complete c**t.