Daily Archives: October 5, 2011

Columnists
October 5, 2011 posted by Tim Stillman

Standards

Tim Stillman Column

“The bitterest pill is mine to take, if I took it for a hundred years I couldn’t feel any more hate,” so Paul Weller once crooned. As far as shit sandwiches go, chowing down on defeat to the doyens of delusion at the other end of the Seven Sisters Road takes the shitty biscuit. That said, having already absorbed defeats to Liverpool and Manchester United already this season, our hides will have been tanned well enough already by our contemporaries in our workplaces, schools and colleges etc.

By now, we all should have developed an extra layer of skin. So all the finger jabbing from Spurs fans will ideally have been absorbed into a leathery, rhinoceros like coating. “What’s that? You beat the scum 2-1 you say? Add it to the tab dick features. Cos right now I’m at about half past give a shit.” If, like me, you have evidence of the Spurs gene in your families and workplaces, weeks such as these can be trying. Local derbies are like penalty shoot outs. They are rollicking good fun indeed. Unless you’re involved in one. Then they’re bloody torturous.

In the days since the game much of the focus has been on the bile emanating from the mouths of the supporters. There’s no point in dressing it up. The song about Adebayor and Angola went up loud, clear and on a plethora of occasions in the Arsenal end. Whilst the lyrics of football chants are always hyperbolised for wind up value (I doubt Manchester United fans genuinely believe Liverpool fans eat rats), there are lines and standards that need to be observed. That chant went some way past that mark.

Whilst I would share the anger of many that a blind eye has been turned to chants faced by our own manager over the last 15 years, there’s little mitigation in the argument, “Your chant is worse than our chant and you started it anyway.”

However, the fact that the clubs have decided to issue a joint statement in condemnation sticks in the craw. It’s one of the more transparent applications of PR gloss in living memory. Had the press not reported it, neither club would have commented. Largely, because neither club could give a chimpanzee’s ballbag about unless it generates negative publicity for them.

For instance, Arsenal’s statement ends with the mealy mouthed caveat, “Neither club tolerates foul language, racist chanting, homophobic chanting.” However abhorrent the Adebayor chant was, it didn’t include any of those clauses. It’s just another piece of barely thought out PR piffle, cut and pasted into a sentiment less dirge of a sentence. I’ve been to White Hart Lane a fair few times now. On every single one of those occasions, I have seen an act of random violence carried out in full view of police. From bottles and coins being chucked, to groups of men repeatedly kicking a man on the floor.

Why don’t both clubs pledge to tackling that ongoing issue? Because of course, the media don’t report it. So in the Orwellian sense, it doesn’t exist. No public images were harmed in the beating of this individual. Don’t get me wrong, chants about machine gunning someone to death are in bad taste, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say fists, bottles and coins with serrated edges are quite a bit worse.

Anyway, that’s quite enough fire breathing. Onto the game itself and it would appear the same worries persist. Though Coquelin’s performance would be a positive you’d take from the game, one just can’t look at Arsenal at the moment without being struck by the lack of pressing of opponents in the front three and the midfield. Our defensive negligence is not solely a preserve of the back four, but the defensive attitude of the entire team still isn’t approaching correction. One would hope that as the familiarity builds up between what is quite a new team, that this will be ironed out. For instance, see Arteta’s instruction to pick up Sandro – ignored by Ramsey – in the build up to the second goal.

However, this is hardly a new problem. The failure to work hard enough off the ball invites an uncomfortable question. Is the manager not telling them to do it? Or is he telling them and they’re simply not listening? None of us know the answer to that, but we do know that neither makes particularly good reading. At half time at the Lane, my friends and I joked about “playing with the handbrake on.” To which one pithily suggested, “If you keep driving with the handbrake on, eventually your engine blows up and your wheels fall off.”

Lo and behold, those were the exact words the manager used in his post match interview. I know I’ve said this before, but if we’re at a stage where we can play “Arsene bingo” with every press junket he does, does that mean the players can too? Do they know what he’s going to say in the dressing room before he says it? Do his words carry any weight as a result? Again, we can but idly speculate. But the manager hasn’t varied his lexicon in his media sound bites long enough to invite this question.

As if defeat weren’t a soggy enough biscuit, we have the news that Bacary Sagna will be out for at least three months with a fractured fibula. On a human level, I’m devastated for Banger. I find it irksome in the extreme that he does not garner the credit he deserves from outside of the club. He’s certainly one of Arsenal’s most consistent, reliable performers and therefore, one of our best players. He gives the appearance of a consummate professional and a jolly nice geezer too. Let’s hope he recovers well.

On a “footballistic” (bingo!) level, Sagna is going to be a big miss. Not just because he is a gentle breeze of stability in a tempest of brainfarters, but also because Carl Jenkinson does not look to be ready for any undertaking above Underhill at the moment. I’m sure he has potential, but with every game we play I fear we’re slowly suffocating that potential amidst the wreckage of our early season form. The level to which the manager trusts him for the next three months will be revealing. Truly a make or break period. Let’s hope it’s the making of a fine young right back.

In closing, I’d like to add to blogger’s inspired post this morning by adding in one of the things I like most about The Arsenal. Mine would come under the general umbrella of Standards. Arsenal has always been a club that has strived to set them, on and off the pitch. From the Arsenal embossing on the napkins in the club restaurant. To the flowers in the boardroom being dyed in the colours of the visiting team. The custom of the team lining up in the centre circle to salute all four sides of the ground before kick off.

The quirks and traditions are endless. But all are a symptom of a club that seeks to set itself apart from the others. If you doubt that spirit persists at the club, take a look at the stadium we watch football in every other week and the blood and sweat that went into building it. Tradition with vision. As it is, was and ever shall be. Up the Arse. LD.

Follow me on Twitter @LittleDutchVA

Arseblog, the arsenal blog
October 5, 2011 posted by arseblog

Some things I like about Arsenal

The Green

The green of the grass. Every time. It’s greener at Arsenal than anywhere else. The only time I can remember it being as green somewhere else is the first time I saw Arsenal play live. It was some time in the mid-80s, in a pre-season game against Shamrock Rovers here in Dublin.

Under floodlights, a packed terrace in a south Dublin suburb, a battle of the O’Leary brothers if I recall correctly (of course it’s possible I’ve just augmented my memory of it). David the Gooner, Pierse playing for Rovers. The pitch was amazing that night.

We lost.

The Red (and white)

I love our kit. Red shirt, white sleeves. It’s timeless, classic and simple. Which is why it’s annoying when Nike get it so wrong sometimes. I like that Chapman added the white sleeves not for aesthetic reasons but to make it easier for our players to pick each other out,

My favourite kit is the one we wore in the 1979 FA Cup final though. Maybe it’s because it’s the first game I remember properly but maybe it’s just because it’s awesome. It’s timeless, classic and simple. Which is why it’s annoying when Nike foist yet another blue monstrosity upon us because of its leisure wear properties.

And if I could find a pair of the hooped socks from the mid-90s I’d buy them in a flash.

The Fans

As difficult as things are at the moment, and as depressing as I find it that people speak to each other online in the ill-mannered, pig-ignorant way they seem to think is acceptable, in real life the Arsenal fans I have met, and meet, are brilliant.

Generous, funny, passionate and intelligent. The first time I ever did that weird thing of ‘meeting people off the internet’ was for the Arsenal v Barcelona Champions League game at Wembley. As part of the Arsenal Mailing List a meet-up had been arranged and off I went to a bar within sight of the stadium. Nobody touched my special area. I drank beer with people I hadn’t met before and despite the result it was fantastic. I’m still in touch with some of those people.

Through Arseblog I have met hundreds more, many of whom I would consider my friends, and those friendships are borne out of one thing and one thing only, Arsenal Football Club.

The Irish connection

Clearly this is what made me an Arsenal fan. I don’t remember clearly why I became an Arsenal fan but as a child of Irish parents living in England I’m sure I was searching for some kind of identity. Much as you might laugh now, Terry Wogan wasn’t it. Remember, this was a world in which I was a Paddy when I lived in England (in spite of my Yorkshire accent) but I was a Brit the moment we returned home.

Brady, O’Leary, Stapleton, Devine, Rice, Nelson, Jennings. All just Irish to a small boy. There are a generation of Arsenal fans here whose first real trauma in life was the departure of Liam Brady to Juventus. A player that many of us never saw play except on TV moving to a club in Italy, played out in tiny snippets in the newspaper, and it was enough to cause heartbreak.

I can only imagine how torturous it might have been to have blanket coverage, rolling news and non-stop rumour and gossip for the duration of the saga. Oh wait, I don’t need to imagine at all.

The Records

I don’t remember the name of the book (was it the Rothman’s one?) but I had one at home as a kid and it listed each club and gave their various records. For example, record win, record loss, record attendance etc.

I used to know that book off by heart and back to front. I knew that our biggest win and biggest defeat had come against Loughborough Town and that our record attendance was somewhere in the mid 70,000s for a game in the 30s or 40s and that no other team could beat it.

I played football stat Top Trumps against all the other teams in the book and Arsenal could win lots of times. And if we didn’t I’d just make them up so we did.

Our record appearance holder is an Irishman, David O’Leary who, as I say, blotted his copybook a bit as manager of Leeds. Particularly when he dared have a go at our dreamiest ever player. What was he thinking?

Highbury

Football moves on and business more than ever calls the shots but there’s no place like home. I’ve always loved city centre stadia. One minute you’re walking down a residential street, you turn a corner and there’s a gigantic football stadium.

Highbury might not compare to the Grove in terms of facilities, ease of access (maybe we should make it more difficult for people to get out) and the rest, but it has all the character. It’s always worth a walk past, to see that amazing East stand facade, and a touch depressing to see the apartments and gardens where so much Arsenal history took place.

But who will ever forget it?

The Cannon

I’ve never been one for tattoos but I always said if I got one it would be the old cannon. What a symbol of a club. It’s not a cock perching on a ball, nor any other kind of bird or wild animal of varying ferocity. I’ll see your wild animal and raise you a cannonball in the face. I think you’ll find there’ll only be one winner.

I get why they changed it, business, copyright, blah blah blah, but the new sanitised, we’ll sue you if you use it anywhere, version just doesn’t come close.

The The

Not the band. The fact that we have a The in front of our name and nobody else does. There’s no The Chelsea. Certainly not a The Liverpool and definitely not a The Sp*rs.

There is, however, The Arsenal. It’s ubiquitous and unique. It is ours. Sometimes you hear a pundit refer to us as ‘The Arsenal’ on the telly and even if that pundit is one who you would like to smear with meat paste then chuck into a pit with a pack of starving jackals it’s still nice to hear.

Maybe it’s a small thing, maybe completely insignificant, maybe you could say we don’t even a need a ‘the’ but the fact is we have a ‘the’ and nobody else does.

We are The Arsenal.

The Players

I know, in this day and age where all our players are shit and useless and should be sold/killed/minced up and fed to cats etc, people’s affinity with players isn’t what it was.

Yet under no other circumstances could I blindly worship another man the way I have with Arsenal players. The list goes back as long as I can remember. Liam Brady, of course. As a burgeoning centre-half I have to admit that Willie Young’s tackle on Paul Allen in the 1980 FA Cup final won him a place in my heart and taught me a football lesson I never forgot.

I can remember fervently praying that when Charlie Nicholas left Celtic he’d choose us and not Man United or Liverpool or Sp*rs. I could barely understand why he’d want to go there anyway. They didn’t have a ‘the’ for goodness sake.

Rocastle, Bould, Merson (the glug-glug celebration did it for me, for some reason … ahem …), Bergkamp, Pires and Cesc were all obvious. But why, along the way, did I have soft spots just as big for Tommy Caton, Edu, Philippe Senderos and more? Players of varying quality who meant as much to me as the bone fide geniuses. I guess that’s the beauty of it.

I’m sure there are loads more if I stopped to think about it for longer, or if I had more time. But sometimes it’s worth stepping back and realising that Arsenal is something that you should cherish. It is, for all intents and purposes, a marriage, a lifelong relationship and committment.

For richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, and all that. We’re a bit sick at the moment and if you, like some columns I’ve read lately, want to leave your poorly partner because it’s all too much of a chore to lift him/her onto the toilet and then do the wiping, that’s entirely up to you. I’m sure you’ll be back once we’re on the mend though; when the good times return, which they will.

We can all be concerned and worried about where we are and where we’re going but we’ve been here before and we’ll be here again. This is nothing new in the life cycle of this football club.

I offer no solution today though, and present this simply as something to counter-balance the bile, hatred and invective that has become far too large a part of supporting … wrong word … following the Arsenal at this moment in time.

Up the arse.