They say we are all dying from the moment we’re born. Likewise: from the moment a player signs for us, he is already heading for the door. I have a solution for this – which may sound harsh – but I do believe that if it is performed humanely, it may solve the problem…

Shakespeare (whoever that really is) was a very clever man. If he was alive today he’d probably be Aaron Spelling, and live in a fancy mansion in Bel-Air. (If he was a bit of a thug, he’d be Harvey Weinstein). I say this, because Shakespeare was way ahead of his time. He wrote some of Hollywood’s best screenplays before movie screens had even been invented.

Now, it’s important to note here that I’m not a historian. Or even a scientist. But I think it’s safe to assume that the main reason they didn’t bother inventing the movie screen back in the Dark Ages – remember, there was no electricity back then – is because they couldn’t find a candle big enough to project film without setting it on fire. (I’m sure medieval Edisons experimented frantically, and that there may even have been filmed evidence of these projection experiments, but sadly, the evidence would have been lost during the experiments themselves. So, alas, my theory can never be proved. Anyhow, I digress. Back to Shakespeare…)

There is another reason that Shakespeare were a very clever collective, and that reason is the inspiration of this blog. You see: each of Shakespeare’s screenplays had a … Read More »

Four of Cups: Weariness, disgust, aversion, imaginary vexations, as if the wine of this world had caused satiety only; another wine, as if a fairy gift, is now offered the wastrel, but he sees no consolation therein. This is also a card of blended pleasure. Contrarieties.

I'm constantly amazed by the card my iPad Tarot App spits up for me when I finally find the nerve to update this new Arsenal blog of mine. (By the way – in the event that you're a Gunner who has clicked on a link to this post from a trusted Twitter source – don't fret: you haven't accidentally stumbled on some vacuously whimsical Dark Arts weblog!)

Despite a carefully considered warning from the fantastically talented @arse2mouse – I have decided to plough on (rewardless) with the crazy idea of allowing a Tarot deck to dictate my invinciblog subject matter… Like sex, it was slightly daunting at first. But now I'm getting the hang of it, and starting to have fun with the new positions I'm presented. (Perhaps this blog would be more aptly called Crouching Gooner, Hidden Tarot!)

Apparently good sex involves a fair amount of extra-sensory perception. 😉 Knowing when to put this … Read More »

“Prudence, safety, success, accomplishment, certitude, discernment…”

Well, another D-Day comes and goes. The shelling stops and the casualties are counted. After the grief and the licking of the wounds, time to regroup and take stock. The battle is over, but the war has just begun…

Arsenal was under siege on numerous fronts before winter's curtain lifted, and summer's silly season began. The brain confirmed what the heart suspected: we once again had top-ranking double-agents in our midst, turncoats lured to our greatest adversaries by the promise of silver and gold.

We struck preëmptively, and secured potential deputies. We put ourselves in advanced positions for vital reinforcements and acquisitions. We seemed to have the ammunition and desire to reverse our misfortune – but ultimately, for reasons beyond our control, the opportunities came and went, and we had to remain content to merely hold our lines, and trust that we had enough firepower to get us through the rapidly approaching hostilities.

“Prudence, safety, discernment…”

Once again, we have a fanbase up in arms about our transfer window (in)activity. Despite the overt criticism of last year's panicky deadline day shopping spree, the Goonerverse clamoured for purchases which, in the light of a new day, … Read More »

“When is a door not a door? When it is ajar…”
“When is a contract not a contract..?”

It bothered me during the Great Cescape – when our club captain, with four years remaining on his contract, was allowed to throw the world’s longest, sulkiest hissy-fit – making himself useless to the Club, and forcing a move back to Barcelona.

It bothered me this week, when Alex “Blingalicious” Song slouched off to follow Fabregas to basque in golder pastures. (Our Top Deck midfielder was supposedly unhappy with his mere £55 000-per-week salary – hence the insolence? – and before you could say “WTF..?” he was gone). This despite two, maybe three years remaining on his contract.

Penis Over Brain had us bent over a barrel for nigh on a year – before he practically took a dump in it with his July 4th Declaration of Independence: the footballing equivalent of a ‘Dear John’ letter – and turned what should have been a routine contract extension into a drawn-out, messy divorce. (A divorce that left us with the house and the memories: he got to marry the home-breaking slut; and keep the kid. (Kid was a Man Utd supporter anyway, so, no loss there…)

Even as … Read More »

“Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin.
It is a card in particular of unforeseen catastrophe.”

Hmmm. Maybe I need to find a more optimistic Tarot deck. It’s behaving rather like a black-bag-Gooner at present… The urge to ‘cheat’ and draw another card was almost irresistible, but I guess there is an Arsenal-appropriate lesson to be learned by accepting the hand I’ve been dealt, and making the most of it.

“Misery, disgrace, deception”

Do I wish that our traitorous captain hadn’t issued his foolish and ill-advised Independence Day statement? Yup. Do I regret that he backed his Manager, his Club, into a corner – forcing them to sell him to the only club that showed interest? Yes, sirree. And most of all: do I regret that that club was our sworn enemy? Of course I do.

I would have loved to have seen him be true to his many words, and only win trophies with his beloved childhood club. For a gray-haired, glass-ankled donkey, he sure had a great last season – “dragging us over the finish line” (with a little help from his friends…) But the donkey has joined the Dark Side and gone off to join Shrek at you-know-where. Too … Read More »

I’m not an Arsenal fan. Fans blow hot and cold. I’m an Arsenal supporter.

It’s different.

I was a fan of Olivia Newton-John for a week or two, back in the day – when she urged me to get Physical with her, flirting at me, upside down, from between her shapely leotarded legs. I’m not a fan anymore. And I walked through the rain singing Erasure’s “Sometimes” after a particularly messy adolescent breakup. That song’s not on my iPod anymore. Doubt it ever will be.

Fans are fickle. They lavish their attention on whatever tickles their fancy in that moment. (SQUIRREL!) They give you their undying devoted love forever. Or for the half life of a Seaborgium-266 isotope. Whichever comes first.

I’m in it for the long haul.

Supporting something means carrying it around with you forever. Like herpes.