Dear sir or madam,
If you spent a little less time running your mouth and a little more time running around on the pitch, you and your Spurs would STILL get your asses handed to you by Arsenal, although in that case, we might have to go above first gear to do so. Thank you, and enjoy 10th place.
Sincerely,
The Modern Gooner
First of all, let me say from all of us at TMG how thankful we are to Paul (aka Clockender) for providing two dynamite posts, and let me encourage you all to give them a read as well. Very good stuff and coming from a fellow Gooner who was on the scene of Spurs latest DVD filming, "42 Minutes..." As you'll see, we both recap the match on Saturday, but from differing perspectives, although equal in our excitement at the result.
It was another unbelievable weekend of football that we've just gone through. Especially unbelievable if you listened to the stream of excrement that poured forth from the mouths of the Spurs players and their chav manager before the match. Let's address their claims in order, shall we? Pikey Keane argued that the levels of the Arsenal and Tott squads were about even, with a slight edge going to Tottenham for their bench. Surely you jest, sir. As far as I could tell, the only thing level about those two sides on Saturday was the pitch they were playing on. Arsenal dicked around with the ball for 40 minutes without ever being seriously threatened, and that was before the goals started to come.
Spurs' own long-necked bugger Peter "Scarecrow" Crouch figured that since West Ham came back from 2-0 down, they could do the same if (when) they found themselves at a deficit. Eyes down here, ya gangly bastard: I know West Ham, I've seen West Ham, and you sir, are no West Ham. Tottenham Hotspur are among the greatest collections of underachieving, self-entitled douchers ever shat into existence. You also figured your boys could hold together at the back and all would go well. How'd that work out for you?
And so we come to Spurs' latest future ex-manager, Old Twitchy, 'Arry Redknapp himself. 'Arry reckoned that Spurs a) play fantastic football, just like Arsenal, and b) were coming to win the match on Saturday. Erroneous on both counts, dipshit. Unless I'm mistaken, and I'm not, no one is comparing a team playing fantastic football to Tottenham. You play the same, dull, "Hoof it upfield to the tall fucker" style that the worst teams in England play, it's just that your tall fucker is a taller fucker than most tall fuckers. And at no point did Spurs even resemble a team that was dedicated to winning. The fastest that Robbie Keane ran all day was to the touchline when he was finally substituted. The entire Spurs team looked helpless and flat all game, and I enjoyed every moment of it, topped only by our goals and the requisite shots of 'Arry's droopy face in a completely tragic reaction.
As I mentioned, Arsenal rarely looked like they had to move up a gear from "idle" to beat Spurs on Saturday. And I will admit that in spite of our great advantage in possession and a few lovely chances (including a Fabregas strike that looked so goal-bound that my premature celejacubration was stifled by Gomes' save), I was getting a bit concerned watching several players walking around without any real energy or urgency. A better team than Spurs (and let's face it, there are PLENTY of teams better than Spurs) can take advantage of a sleepwalking side, and that's how we looked for chunks of the first half. It was especially frustrating because the overwhelming thought in my mind was that a little effort would see the Spurs crumble.At around the half-hour mark, Nicklas Bendtner pulled up with what appeared to be a groin injury and needed subbing off. Arsene introduced Eduardo, and a more potent substitution he could not have made. Eddie's pace, direction and overall attacking play seemed to energize the side into going forward, and it was after the Crozilian's introduction that we really started to see some chances be created. Quite a few were wasted, but after 42 minutes had passed, notorious Tottenham hater Robin van Persie latched onto a cross from Sagna (whose crossing is showing some definite improvement this season) and tapped it past Gomes at the near post. Van Persie went mad, the Emirates went mad, Nevada's went mad, and I can imagine all Gooners watching everywhere went mad in varying degrees.
What does not seem to vary much is the number of people who missed the second goal because they were still celebrating the first. I myself only turned around to see Cesc strike the ball past Gomes, went even more mental with the Nevada's crowd, and celebrated again when the replay was shown. Van Persie stepped in to win the ball after the restart, Fabregas pounced on it and produced a run as skillful as you will see this season, despite Droopy's grumblings to the contrary. El Capitan Catalan Fantastico split two white shirts with the ease of parting curtains, nutmegged the helpless Lead-legs King, and stroked a finish past Gomes into the lower left corner of the net. 2-0 to the Arsenal headed into halftime, the Totts well and thoroughly dejected, we Gooners elated, and all the more so because of the Totts aforementioned dejection. Let's have a look at Cesc's mastery:
Quite an indictment of both the Spurs' defense and Twitchy's description of Arsenal's scores as "Not a good goal among them." And there was more to come. We controlled the second half as we did the first. Eduardo had several chances in the second half, two of which I really felt should have been put away (and judging by Arsene's jacket-throwing reaction, I'm not alone), which would have added to the scoreline and compounded the Lilywhites' suffering (as well as the Gooners' footballing inebriation). The first of these was created by Fabregas' brilliant long ball past what Tottenham are calling a defense these days to the very feet of Eduardo, who had only the keeper to beat and instead shot directly into him.
This save must've gone to the visitors' heads however, as after a bad tackle by noted James Bond villain Essou-Yaphet-E-Kotto on Eddie, referee Mark Clattenburg waved play on while the Spurs stopped play to wait for a free kick. Sagna took advantage to catch them napping, slipping another cross into the box, past Gomes limp effort and finished by van Persie for the Dutch Master's second.
While Arsenal didn't manage another score, it wasn't for lack of chances. Cesc spotted Eduardo again, lobbing a long ball over the defense to put him one-on-one with the keeper, only to watch Eddie's finish dribble wide of goal to the left. Horrible... for all of the creative play that Eduardo added to the side, he was guilty of two terrible misses where he really should have done better. On the other hand, Cesc put in yet another masterful performance. He not only scored once (almost twice), he was again the creative engine that drove all of Arsenal's attacking play, ran all over the pitch tirelessly, dropped back in defense when necessary--basically, he did everything you would expect Captain Fantastic to do, only better. And then there was Manuel Almunia, who returned to the side after the world's worst chest infection to make some nice stops, and although was only ever really challenged once, from a set piece, he responded very nicely. Well done, and good to have you back, Manuel.After the match of course I couldn't just leave, so several of us decided to remain at Nevada's to wind up the poor Chelsea supporters, when who should walk in the door but Roman Fucking Abramovich. Reactions were decidedly mixed. Some felt starstruck, some (Austin) went from zero to Murder in 6 seconds, and some just looked at this as a perfect time to wind up the Chavs in front of their Russian billionaire. True to form, the New York Blues (est. 200wheneverallthemoneycame A.D.) didn't make a peep for the first 20 minutes or so, in which time I had myself sang "John Terry's Mother is a Thief" (which has really become my favorite song to get under the Chelsea skin) and we had all sang every song we knew to dig at them. I expect they needed to hand out their song sheets. It must be difficult to remember songs when you only show up for one match in ten.
Anyway, I ended up leaving at halftime, Chelsea already having gone 1-0 up on Bolton, who had had a man sent off, and the rout was on. But Roman was good enough to let himself be photographed after the match with some of us Gooners, and hat's off to him for that, even if it was directly in front of our flag. I despise what he's done to football regarding transfers and creating a formulaic precedent for clubs like Man City to follow (Shit Team + Loads of Money = Shit Team + Trophy), but at least he's a football fan... which is more than I can really say for one of Arsenal's main investors, the rotund Uzbek oil magnate Usmanov, lurking on the periphery for his chance to bleed the club dry. Cheers to the Gooners who stuck around to show Roman what real football support sounds like as well.Apparently there were quite a few other matches this weekend. Who knew? Anyway, let's briefly go over how badly I effed up my picks this time around:
Bolton v Chelsea - PREDICTION: Bolton 1-2 Chelsea
Reality: Bolton 0-4 Chelsea
Bolton never really stood a chance playing 10-men against a full-strength Chelsea team, did they?
Burnley v Hull City - PREDICTION: Burnley 2-1 Hull City
Reality: Burnley 2-0 Hull City
Phil Brown, allow me to be the first to buy you a Coca-Cola. And possibly the last, as there'll be no shortage of it in the Championship. Unless you quit, as expected.
Everton v Aston Villa - PREDICTION: Everton 1-3 Aston Villa
Reality: Everton 1-1 Aston Villa
Would the real Aston Villa please stand up?
Fulham v Liverpool - PREDICTION: Fulham 1-1 Liverpool
Reality: Holy Fuck, Fulham 3-1 Liverpool!
Liverpool are out of the title race. No, wait, they beat United, they're back in it! No, wait...
Portsmouth v Wigan - PREDICTION: Portsmouth 0-2 Wigan
Reality: Holy Fuck Again! Portsmouth 4-0 Wigan
Pompey win and get the Al Bundy-Polk High Football Award for scoring Four goals. Not in one season... in one game...
Stoke City v Wolves - PREDICTION: Stoke 1-0 Wolves
Reality: Stoke 2-2 Wolves
Four goals in any match involving Stoke is an aberration, as their affairs are generally low-scoring. But not beating Wolves on your own ground? Way to go, Professor Frink.
Sunderland v West Ham - PREDICTION: Sunderland 2-1 West Ham
Reality: Sunderland 2-2 West Ham
Hammers fight back for another crucial point from a good team. Now if only they could get a result against the shit teams they've been playing down to... Anyway, here's something you Hammers may appreciate.
Man Utd v Blackburn - PREDICTION: Man Utd 4-1 Blackburn
Reality: Man Utd 2-0 Blackburn
Man Utd = Good team. Blackburn Rovers = Shit team.
Birmingham v Man City - PREDICTION: Birmingham 1-3 Man City
Reality: Holy Fuck Part III! Birmingham 0-0 Man City
Just as an announcement, Adebaycuntmuppet has not scored since his header against us. Fuck Citeh. As an aside, Fuck Birmingham and their moronic fans and Martin Taylor in the ear with a hot iron stick.
Also this week, West Ham hosts Aston Villa, so perhaps the Irons can find a way to scrap a point out of this one as well. Much as I love giving the Hammers shit, Nevada's would be the poorer for them being relegated. Plus they're John Cleese's favorite team, and if you can't support John Cleese, you're too stupid to breathe.
Arsenal have another Champions League group stage match this Wednesday, hosting A-Zed Alkmaaaaaar. The Gunners will be looking to banish the memory of their last meeting with the Dutchies, in which Zed equalized in the dying moments to snatch a point and deny the Arsenal all three. Look for a side similar to that fielded Saturday against Spurs, minus Bendtner, who will be ruled out due to injury. The home crowd behind our boys, I'm expecting a win, and be able to announce the demise of A Zed.
That's all I've got time for right now fellers. NYC Gooners, enjoy the fall weather and the sunshine while it lasts... stupid daylight savings time. before you go, check out this clip; it's as honest and refreshing a take from Premiership managers as you're ever going to see, including Twitchy and our own LEGEND, Arsene.
And as always, you stay classy, Gooner nation...
- B, a Gooner
