Premature Ejaculation

In what seems to be a classic case of that old expression (translated here for the benefit of all our readers) known as ‘Keeping the Mouth’, Wenger’s masterstroke forward has been done in by those devious Italians.

And so it happens.

There’s a reason why the knowledgeable football fan thinks 59 times on an average before calling Arsenal title contenders. Cos in any of those games, one of Arsenal’s high-speed, aesthetically wonderful moves will result in someone moving too fast for their own good. And then shit like this happens.

Of all the teams in the Big Four, the most benign is probably Arsenal. United is a team everyone loves to hate, and look upon derisively. Chelsea generate enough visceral hatred from all of Manchester and the rest of London. Which is why the Champions League final was probably the closest they can get to a home game, played as it was in Roman’s backyard. The Scouse are just annoying. It is unbelievable how much they think of and talk and moan about themselves all on the backing of one night of madness in Istanbul. And the future promise of the Dynamic Duo finally going through a season uninjured. But Arsenal are none of the above. Sure, the Spuds hate them, but that doesn’t count.

They almost always have the moral high ground in any game, as they end up playing the better football. They have a wise, kindly professor-type for a manager. You can be sure there will be no Studs-Up comic showing Wenger using the referees as his bitches. They have a bunch of schoolkids taking on boys much bigger than them, hence appealing to the David-Goliath sentiment in everyone. And well, their Captain Courageous is the only available star from the Big Four, so that’s the entire girls-who-watch-football-with-their-boyfriends vote gone there as well. No, not to Fernando Torres.

However the point in conceding them all of this, is so that they play the Jogo Bonito, do their thing of drawing at home to Stoke and losing away to Wigan and such stuff, and then stage a remarkable comeback at the end of the season to confound everyone’s predictions and finish grandly in… 4th. Thus, when they go against the grain of the matter and find themselves 5 points from the top with a game in hand at nearly the half-way point in the season, even God couldn’t take it anymore. And so, the Universe unfolded itself the way it should.

In other London-club news, Lumplard and Oh Captain, My Captain have grandly got themselves injured in the most comical of ways during the International injury break. Unfortunately for the rest of the teams, their next opponent is Wolves at home, and that’s a sort of game that Lumplard is highly likely to not have started anyway. Drogba will now just elbow his way past the Wolves’ back four and grab himself a bagful. I hate the scheduling, the FA is against us, I cannot believe how these games can come after the international break, why don’t you just hand the title over to them directly! Sorry, slight Rafa Benitez moment.

Christmas is yet to come upon us, and the dark, cold nights of winter are where many a big scalp has occurred in the past, especially in away games to bottom clubs. Somehow, they just seem to find it in them when the scrap for survival looms really large and threatening. And so it shall be found out again this season, as to who the men are and who the boys. Well, we know that already, but metaphorically.