Morning all…
I’ll kick off with a story from The Daily Express – they suggest we are ready to table an offer of £17 million for Paul Pogba. Not sure how much truth is in that, or if indeed he’d be worth that much but it was pretty clear that Fergie was really cheesed off when the player got one over him…..
The Daily Mirror suggest Wenger is keen to sign Matthias Ginter, a 19-year-old defensive midfielder, from German top-flight side Freiburg in a deal worth £5m!
Other news from yesterday was of course, all about the exits. Three more were confirmed to be leaving us for free. One failed Russian whippet, a young Brazilian donkey and of course, an old French cart horse. None of whom will be missed!
On to todays post.
As the days grow longer, the Sun warms the earth and the seasons change, we find ourselves once again in the English Summertime. Deep underground all sorts of slimy creatures are looking to make their way to the surface so they can feast on the bounty that this time of year provides. Creepy-crawlies, some with multitudinous legs and some, called Jose, that make their way by squirming side to side on their elongated bellies are all competing for sustenance. Nematodes, Centipedes, Beetles, Slugs and all manner of insect life are active at this time of year. All looking to scavenge what they can from their surroundings.
But, as it is also the close-season for football, there is plenty of fodder for them to get their digestive systems around. During the Summer months many of them take up work as Sports journalists or creators of a certain breed of footballing blog designed to outrage fans with inflammatory headlines that tempt us to click their link. Then we can read articles that are ineptly written and completely fabricated. Having no sense of personal integrity whatsoever means that they can write whatever they want because, as Autumn approaches, they will be able to sink beneath the earth once more to engorge themselves on dead vegetable matter and detritus left over from an abundant summer and shit where they sleep.
Their main aim during their time above ground of course is to sell advertising. Open their site and you immediately register a click and some manufacturer of tickling sheathes, sex-aids, breast-enhancement charlatans or a company specialising in Penis Enlargement procedures just might be in line for a phone call from you, seeking their help to end your feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. So, in effect, the more outrageous the headline the more likely we are to click it. Whether this be out of general, misguided stupidity or outrage, it matters not to them, as long as we click it.
The newspapers are just as guilty and I am sure that when we read a headline on the back of The Sun to the effect that yet another one of our players has issued a “warning” to the club that they intend to leave if World-Class players are not signed immediately, we have a pretty good idea of whose name will be appear as the author of that sad little piece of nastiness.
If Laurent Koscielny, for instance, gives an interview where he says he is happy at the club and hopes they can win something but neglects to say that they might have won something had he not made a stupid error a couple of years ago at Wembley, then we can all get where he is coming from.
After a very good half a season, a player becomes fair game to the inebriated hacks of Fleet Street. He becomes someone that they can use to slap the paying fans around the face with, like a rotting Haddock, or even a decrepit piece of Rock Salmon. It means that they can remain at the bar and pour warm beer down their necks and drop half-chewed bits of a Ploughman’s Lunch, mixed with Nicotine-stained saliva, down their drip-dry nylon shirts where it will eventually form a crust before falling off of their copious beer guts and nestling somewhere in the creases of their encrusted trousers and yellow-stained underpants.
It means that they won’t actually have to pick up the phone or travel too far from the bar to conduct a sensible interview. No, they can simply click on the Internet and as they belch a dense cloud of poisonous gas while simultaneously farting the remains of last night’s take away curry into the face of a minion, they can gaze through the numerous sites designed to denigrate our football club and take their pick rather like a sewer rat might sample many piles of human excrement before getting tucked into the one that takes his fancy.
“Arsenal Target Rejects Move” they will write before explaining that a player from the Middle East that nobody has ever heard of and who may or may not even exist, has decided to shun Arsenal to stay at a club that plays in the 10th division of Algerian football. “Moyes Swoops To Buy Fabregas” will probably irritate the Arsenal fans won’t it?
Ok then, let’s make it “Moyes Close To Grabbing Cesc From Under Miserly Wenger’s Nose”. Oh yes, that adds a degree of personalisation to it that will infuriate Gooners everywhere. What about “Wilshere To Walk Away From Arsenal After Claiming Club Has No Ambition” , now that is a good ‘un. We could even throw in that the wonderful, sensational and handsome, if vertically challenged, Jose Mourinho is a long-term admirer couldn’t we.? And Jose always gets what he wants doesn’t he?
He is, after all, The Special One.
Perhaps we tend to click those links that we hope have some truth to them. “Gervinho On The Way Out Of Arsenal” might well tempt my right digit I must admit.
So it goes on, as tripe and lies are layered upon innuendo and nonsensical rumour. “Cesc Could Return To Arsenal” finds itself next to “Cesc Going Nowhere”. And all the time, the pressure builds. Someone, somewhere has decided that this is the Summer when everything changes at Arsenal. The wonderful news spreads like wildfire through the blogging community and the expectation and anticipation is ramped up.
The Appendage Report and their endless stream of teenage American wannabe sports writers from Harvard or UCLA hurriedly regurgitate “Ten Players That Arsenal Must Sign This Summer”and Theodore L. Aspergo Junior counters with “Ten Players That Arsenal Must Avoid Signing This Summer”.
Koscielney is leaving and staying, Sagna is on his way to the tempting fortunes available at PSG while simultaneously negotiating a new contract to stay at Arsenal. Jovetic is in the bag but the insufferably miniature Mourinho sees him as a vital cog in the grinding wheel that will soon become Chelsea.
Ah, Jose. What can you say about this man except there is no nematode beneath whose belly he could not squirm. The only thing we can predict with absolute certainly is that his return will herald widespread feelings of revulsion and that no ploy that appeals to his sense of self-aggrandisement, regardless of how despicable and low, will be beneath him. He will be loved by Chelsea fans and most journalists who you feel would gladly debase themselves before him while performing a degrading act upon his person, small though that may be.
Jose is a winner you see, whereas poor old skinflint Arsene is a serial loser. Now, there’s an article in there somewhere.
I love the English summertime.
Written by Adam