An Octopus Named Paul

There was once an Octopus named Paul,

Who sensationally predicted Argentina’s fall,

All hungry Paulie wanted was his dinner,

Astoundingly, though he always picked the winner.

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Oh Eduardo!

Dear Eduardo,

I must confess the first I ever heard of you was when the official site intimated me that you were the latest member to be inducted into the Arsenal family. I mean, honestly, the goal you scored for Dinamo Zagreb against us was no more than a minor irritant in what was a comprehensive mauling over two legs.

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The weekend where everything’s gone right

There were three points of time where I could have written this post. One was immediately after our latest putting-in-place of our noisy neighbours and third Fergie time winner against them this season. These three games are definitely a full chapter in the surely-to-be-authored bestseller ‘United’s late, late goals’. And of course, the sweetness of it all that it came against THEM. As encapsulated so beautiful by the untiring Red Nev in what is a clear contender for photograph of the season.

You... complete me.

Then we had Dr. Scholeslove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Spuds after they carried on their brilliant home form from the Arsenal game into the game against the other Blue Scum in the league.

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The BigLouvre

Apparently their artistry isn’t limited to a length of grass anymore. Premier League World, the TV show, got the footballers all of us so revere to do a little caricature of themselves and autograph it so that they could auction it off for charity. Some of the drawings are admittedly as uncovincing as the service the charity Nordoff Robbins provides:‘Music therapy’. Oh well, for all I know they’re doing some excellent work.

We at BigFourZa decided to review and comment on a few drawings by a select few players and rate them on we call the Bill Watterson scale.

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History Beckons

As bouts go ladies and gents, this is right up there with the Ali-Frazier slugfest. Its games like these that we football fans live for. Anticipation, nervousness, abject terror, oscillation between easy confidence and sheer desperation; this is what each and every Gooner is going through right now. And take my word for it, following our monster of a comeback last Wednesday, the culés are feeling no different.   

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