Whilst there is doubtless a great deal of work going on behind the scenes at the club, we’re still waiting for the transfer scene for Arsenal to fulminate in the public domain. The whispers in the corridor suggest the next few days could see that change, but whilst the whispers have yet to echo their way into arsenal.com type confirmation, there is little concrete to report.

Arsenal have of course confirmed the signing of 19 year old Charlton full back Carl Jenkinson. I know little to nothing about the guy, but it could prove to be an astute signing if it moves Eboue closer to the exit door. As pointed out by @YoungGunsBlog, Jenkinson qualifies as home trained and therefore does not count towards our 25 man squad quota. His signing still keeps another space free within that parameter.

The futures of Clichy, Nasri and Fabregas remain pending, so in truth, there isn’t a great deal to expand on those issues since last week’s column. So from a journalistic point of view, it’s probably just as well that I was honoured enough to be one of the 200 or so in attendance at the Arsenal Supporters’ Trust’s Q & A session with Ivan Gazidis last night. Otherwise, I fear some Hemingway style padding might have been on the cards for this week’s entry!

It was my first opportunity to view one of these sessions in the flesh. It’s clear that Mr. Gazidis is a very smooth operator and completely at ease in the bear pit of supporter dialogue. I thought the atmosphere would be tinged with a good deal more poison than was present. But I think Gazidis was smart with his opening gambit. He confronted the ticket price rise straight away and probably disarmed possible hostility by describing the season as “a profound disappointment” and bemoaning a “familiar story over the last part of the season.”

Largely Gazidis said what one would expect him to say. That the season had ended disappointingly and that the club were working hard to rectify weaknesses in the squad, but that he backed the manager “100%” and emphasised the club’s style of play and fiscal stability as positives worthy of illumination. He pointed to the fact that most clubs see us as the model for how a football club should operate. “We do it appallingly badly, but better than everyone else” he quipped at one point regarding the club’s efficiency in the market.

I think most people understand that by now, the trouble is those were positives for the club five years ago too and we don’t seem to have been able to expand the ‘pros’ box too much since. That patois is beginning to wear thin with some.

Gazidis had a very disarming manner in dealing with some of the more tempestuous questions; such as the assertion that players didn’t have any pride in the club. Rather than contest the points, when the temptation to say, “Oh, just fuck off” must’ve been chewing away at him like an angry badger, he acknowledged and accepted the criticisms and pledged to work on them. Politician’s prerogative or genuine promise? I suppose the proof will be in the pudding.

That said, for all his charm, some I spoke to over a shandy after the session suggested that a few of his more defensive comments on ticket pricing could easily have been misinterpreted. The contention that the club have the length of waiting list to have supported them in driving the prices up long before now could easily have been read as, “If you don’t like it, there’s plenty more cash cows grazing in the field.”

But amidst the quite understandable towing of the party line from the CEO there were some rather interesting tit-bits that I had not heard from any other organ of the club. For instance, the explanation for the rise in fees for Silver Membership had not been fully set out in any club literature I had seen. Gazidis explained that the high churn in Red Members suggested that membership was not bringing tangible enough benefits to people and therefore required revamping.

As a consequence the price of silver membership had to become commensurate with red. Gazidis also explained that the inflated fee acted as a kind of encouragement for Silver members to use their memberships as there were a great many that were either cherry picking fixtures or else just sitting on them.

This tied in neatly with a question from the floor around transparency – particularly in attendance figures – which are clearly a source of mirth and disgruntlement when they are announced in the stadium. It has become commonplace for ridiculously overcooked figures to be announced with scores of empty seats visible. Personally, I can’t see why people get in such a tizzy about this barely relevant issue. It’s perhaps symptomatic of the feeling of disillusionment at large that people really will piss their pants about any old thing.

But Ivan outlined that the criticism the club would receive from those that couldn’t secure tickets would far outweigh the disgruntled sniggers of those inside the stadium if the club were to announce the true “bums on seats” figure. “Every empty seat is a travesty” he gushed, whilst committing to redouble the effort to make the club’s ticket exchange policy bare more fruit.

I’m not sure I’ve seen an awful lot of reportage of Gazidis’ comments around the season ticket price rise. It was pointed out that utility bills for the stadium had increased by 100% in the last two years. Excuse me whilst I duck below the parapet when I say I think he also had a point when he said that the disgruntlement for the price rise was set against a backdrop of regular price freezes.

However, that’s slightly disingenuous because it doesn’t recognise that prices were hiked at inflation busting levels in the years building up to the stadium move as well as the contentious bond issue in 2003. In 2001, my season ticket rose by 23.5%. But hang on? Wasn’t David Dein our vice-Chairman then? Surely the great philanthropist of N5 did not but fart perfume?

Gazidis also had some interesting comments around UEFA’s Financial Fair Play legislation and, perhaps surprisingly, he did not sound supportive. Whilst he said he hoped that it would stabilise salary inflation, he worried that the trend would be for clubs to try to drive short term revenues straight from the supporters. That could quite possibly be considered a rather apposite point to make when you’ve just spent a large section of your evening defending a season ticket price rise, but it made for interesting listening all the same.

Perhaps the most contentious remarks of the evening arrived when Gazidis answered a flat question around whom exactly Wenger is accountable to with the retort, “Ultimately, the fans.” It was possibly his only answer of the night that was met with open derision and I have to say, I found it a confusing and worrying remark. Once he’d squirmed a little and recomposed himself, Gazidis did manage to mumble mealy mouthed that Arsene is accountable to the Board of Directors, but it didn’t strike you as the most resounding confirmation.

There were two problems with the remark. Firstly, the flimsy pretext appeared to all but confirm the suspicion of many that the manager does have an autocratic role at the club. Secondly, it seemed to almost invite supporters that favour a change of management to become even more voluble in their acid tongued dissent. Listening to supporters and engaging a constructive dialogue is one thing, but to suggest they should be the gauge upon which professional, executive decisions are made is a little perplexing to me.

Gazidis was rather non committal on the issue of share dividends. He confirmed that Kroenke had not placed any debt on the club, but would only move so far as to say he had no reason to believe Silent Stan would re-trigger dividends for board members working on the assumption that past behaviour is an indicator of future performance. Ivan’s avowal that Kroenke would “remain in the background” suggests we’re unlikely to hear anything from the man himself any time soon. Which I think quite understandably concerns a lot of people.

All in all, it was a very interesting evening. I think Gazidis handled it incredibly well and, speaking from a personal standpoint, I happen to believe he has done a good job in the two and a half years he has been in situ. One must understand that he currently straddles an ugly power battle between the club’s two majority shareholders, whilst also trying to keep the third wheel spinning in the shape of an increasingly aggravated fan base. It’s quite an undertaking and one I think he manages well.

Whatever your opinion of him you have to extend full credit to him for facing the music and doing so on his lonesome. That said, I don’t think any of the questions from the floor (which were not pre-submitted or vetted) threw him any curve balls. I imagine he was thoroughly prepared for every question that came his way. There was certainly nothing that surprised me. Nevertheless, there aren’t many football clubs of our size that indulge such a forum.

A big thank you must go to the likes of Nigel Phillips, Tim Payton and everyone at the Arsenal Supporter’s Trust for making such a well organised and important event possible. It was a pleasure to speak and share a light ale or two with some you too. Until next week, Up the Arse. LD.

Follow me on twitter @LittleDutchVA

I believe it was Martha Reeves that once warbled, “Summer’s here and the time is right, for sitting on your hole and waiting for the fixture list to be published.” Whilst on the surface, the hills aren’t exactly alive with the sound of music on the Arsenal front, there froths a bubbling undercurrent. This is most obviously manifested with the Samir Nasri contract situation.

I’m in comprehensive agreement with Blogs’ musings on the subject. Maybe it’s because I’ve emotionally adapted to the rigours of the modern game, or maybe it’s because I’m a naturally hardened, cynical bastard, but I fail to get excited about this sort of furore. If I were to complete a list of my least favourite things in the world, football agents and newspapers would feature prominently, (possibly just below ticket touts and anything that doesn’t make John Terry eternally miserable).

And newspapers and football agents are the exact conductors of this sort of wailing symphony. As such, I just struggle to give a monkey’s ball bag about any of it, even if I think I probably should. I’ve learned not to get attached to footballers as personalities and I think many could do with demisting that line between appreciating a good footballer and superimposing that admiration onto them as personalities. This would also explain my unrelenting confusion as to why so many people remain so utterly fascinated with who footballers have been putting their winkles into. Life becomes more pleasant when you simply view them as organs (heh) of your club.

I find it hard to believe Nasri hasn’t been offered contract extensions before now and that he hasn’t been advised to string this out for his own ends. The public flirting with Manchester United also likely represents a Machiavellian ploy to waft the wind of doubt into the negotiation room. I can understand the moral indignation from Arsenal supporters over this; but we have to confront some truths about ourselves too.

Patrick Vieira adopted the exact same tactic in the summer of 2001 when he lifted his skirt towards Salford (it’s even rumoured his agent Marc Roger met with United officials that summer). In fact, half way through the 2001-02 season, when the manager gave the players three days off following an away draw with Leeds, Vieira boarded a flight to Madrid.

But the fact is, that May Vieira was holding something shiny above his head and our moral compasses were tossed away with the wind. They were tossed so hard and so far that we would have needed a compass to find them again. Or something.

That’s what it all comes down to. Trophies. About 90% of the average football supporter’s supposed liberal conscience disappears if so much as a Carling Cup is hoisted in their direction. A bit like when the light catches my watch face and I can make my cat chase the reflection around the room for hours, a football fan’s brain goes all suggestible and fuzzy once any sort of cup is secured. A lot of the disquiet around the football club would not be there now had we so much as secured that one pot.

To use a completely hypothetical example, if our captain were to get totally sozzled on lager, get into a car and crash it through an old lady’s wall, resulting in spending some time in chokey, we wouldn’t tut tut so long as he was holding a trophy aloft come May. So perhaps we shouldn’t pretend to be such bastions of ethics ourselves.

There have been some international games played over the last week and whilst I continue to find international football about as exciting as a particularly troublesome Sunday morning beeriod, it was interesting to see Capello point to fatigue as a factor for a listless England performance. I say it’s interesting in the respect that, of the eleven players he selected, only Ashley Cole had played more games than Jack Wilshere this season (Cole has 54 appearances to Jack’s 53) and yet he didn’t seem to have any compunction about sending Jack to the U-21 Makita Cup or whatever the hell it is. Thank goodness common sense (eventually) prevailed there. But the remark elucidated the fact that the national side did not have Jack’s best interest in mind at any point.

Save for that, there’s not an awful lot being played in the public domain at the club just now. The much vaunted Arsenal Player is also supposed to be launched for members’ today – though I’ve yet to see any further commercial literature surrounding that. The Arsenal Supporters’ Trust conduct their annual review meeting with Ivan Gazidis this coming Monday night and I’m sure that promises to be a rumbustuous one as the Chief Exec faces the heat for a season of underachievement.

But the word on the street is that we’re experiencing the calm before the storm when it comes to player movement. There are several issues to be resolved with regards to the personnel we already have; the futures of Cesc and Nasri will likely have ramifications on others for instance. If we lose one or both; then a knock on effect will probably be felt for Rosicky’s future. We’d be unlikely to let him go should one of our other passing midfielders leave. Meanwhile, there’s an orderly queue forming for the exit door with Bendtner, Denilson and Almunia heading it. Once the broom has been swept through and the cobwebs have been cleared, we’ll likely start getting some new furniture in.

It will certainly be interesting to see the type of player Arsene recruits. There have been plenty of calls for him to revert to 4-4-2 and that’s a system he adopted on the final day of the season at Craven Cottage- which suggests he’s pondering it at the very least. With that in mind, you’d think we’d need a slightly more physical aspect to the team. But there again, Arsenal suffer a massive creative shortfall when Fabregas isn’t in the team, so we need to augment in that area too. Whether that means extra creativity coming from the wings to supply for someone like Chamakh will be a question the manager will be ruminating over as we speak.

But a change to a two striker system would raise questions upfront. In Robin van Persie, I reiterate my belief that we have the best central striker in the world. However, it’s notable that he’s never been able to forge a mutually effective strike partnership in his time at the club. Reyes, Henry, Adebayor, Eduardo, Bendtner. All have been tried but none have found chemistry with RvP.

Van Persie is an incredibly efficient penalty box striker. He tends only to need half a yard and half a second in the area to conjure a goal. If he is to play with a deputy next season, would that necessitate him dropping into a more withdrawn role, so we can allow him to play off a physical striker like Chamakh, or a ‘fox in the box; figure such as Eduardo was? Or would van Persie be the foil for a Bergkamp type to play tucked behind him?

All questions I am certain our array of armchair managers have mulled over in full when composing their transfer wish lists. Until next week chums, up the Arse. LD.

Follow me on Twitter – @LittleDutchVA

The first tumbleweeds of summer are blowing gently across the boughs. The nation’s football stadia entertain an eerie silence and the journalists have started to slowly creep above the parapets, sharpening their bayoneted pens and preparing themselves to fill our footballing no man’s land with three months of unremitting shit.

As one might expect, it’s all quiet on the Arsenal front at the moment, the smoke gently wafting away from the Guns of Islington. I don’t think the hiatus has been such a bad thing so far, it appears to have given everyone a chance to cool off and get some distance from the season. The atmosphere for the last few games went from poisonous to out and out mutinous at times.

That said, if we haven’t signed at least three new players and taken Denilson out back and shot him by tomorrow lunchtime; I imagine the voices of protest will redouble with indignation. But the reality is that the transfer window doesn’t open for the majority of Europe until July 1st, so don’t expect to see much business being done before then.

Saturday’s Champions League Final brought the curtain down on the domestic season proper and once again, Barcelona rule the roost, having opened up a can of whoop-tushy on Manchester United. Watching the much vaunted tactical mind of Alex Ferguson helplessly flummoxed by Barca’s movement and poise with the ball and tenacity without it reminds one that Arsene didn’t quite get the credit he deserved for his approach in the Nou Camp in March.

He got the first leg spot on in relying on Arsenal’s superior stamina to defeat Barcelona late in the game. He also got the second leg correct, aping Mourinho’s tactics of allowing Barca to have the ball but keeping defensive shape and discipline. The upshot was, we were winning the tie until one of the more dubious red cards I’ve seen in Arsene’s red card-tactular reign.

Something like 75-80% of Barca’s registered efforts on goal that night came when we were reduced to ten men. It’s perhaps faint praise to say “we lost to Barcelona in slightly less resounding circumstances than United did”, but it demonstrated that the manager does have the capacity for tactical flexibility when the old codger puts his mind to it.

So, whilst Europe’s ultimate showpiece was played in a fair and Corinthian (if somewhat one sided) spirit, there has been nothing quite so equitable emanating from the game’s World Governing body this week. FIFA and its liturgical acolytes are being thoroughly exposed for what we already knew them to be. Avaricious gravy train riders sitting astride a stinking pile of deceit and corruption.

Football's Great Dictator

Septic Bladder’s press conference made for vomit inducing viewing on Sunday. A deluded dictator desperately hanging onto his free meal ticket with the last vestige of his credibility. Like a pig that can’t tear it’s nose away from the trough. When an organisation as spineless, idle and impotent as the English Football Association is demanding you sort yourself out, you know you’ve got problems.

Did you know that FIFA is a registered charity, and therefore does not pay any tax anywhere in the world? They also demand diplomatic immunity from World Cup host nations, meaning FIFA delegates cannot be prosecuted within the borders of the host country. It is simply unbelievable that this level of plutocracy has been allowed to continue unabated for so long. This is no re-plastering situation, the structure is already rotten. FIFA needs a wrecking ball and a flamethrower taken to it, so it can be built up again anew.

In slightly more palatable news Arsenal.com announced the supporters’ Player of the Season and it wasn’t exactly an enormous surprise to see Jack Wilshere take the prize. My personal choice would have been Robin van Persie, his goalscoring record was utterly imperious and I think the rate with which he was hitting the net is given even more gravitas given the fact that team around him were crumbling like Hobnobs in tea during the spring.

However, Jack’s rise over the season has been, according to the big book of clichés, “meteoric.” Becoming a first choice in a top 4 side’s midfield at the age of 18 makes you a special talent indeed. Of course, Jack is riding the crest of a wave now. The academy boy made good will always be viewed with misty eyes by supporters; but Jack is going to have to be ready for challenges that lay ahead.

The “difficult third album” season awaits him now. The natural flipside to receiving good press is that, as Newton’s Theory has it, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This isn’t just owing to his status as England’s great white hope; Arsenal fans too will begin to seek contrarian ground and before long he will find cries of “big time Charlie” echoing up and down the stands, even when there is little to no evidence of such a claim. Jack’s next season will need to be more ‘The Queen Is Dead’ and less ‘Be Here Now’ if he’s to escape ‘difficult third album syndrome.’

The season ticket renewal deadline has now passed and many of us will have given our bank accounts a delightful kicking. Personally, I am not aware of anyone that has let theirs go, but a furtive glance at twitter alone will tell you that an awful lot of people are exercising the option to rent theirs out. That tells you how powerful a position the club are in on such matters; people know that if they let their tickets go, they might never get them back again.

Though I do wonder how many of those that are renting out are waiting for their financial situations to improve and how many are waiting for the team to improve. It’s hard for the club to argue that the price rise is justified given the fact that the quality of the product has not notably improved in a few years now.

Having mentioned Twitter, it’s notable that a lot of Arsenal’s younger players have either deleted their twitter profiles altogether, or else have drastically reduced their communication. You have to presume that’s on instruction of the club. I find that an enormous shame, but is symptomatic of the bland, corporatized culture we inhabit.

The thought that somebody in the public eye could possibly say something that might offend some precious little ears has become so terrifying that even the money men have to gag even the most junior of public figures in order to “protect the brand.” As a result, we have become so cosseted and nuzzled that the slightest utterance sets us all of a-tizz. Personally, I went to an all boys’ school in South East London. Being told I was a cunt was a part of daily life (still is, actually) and essential to my upbringing.

I like to think it stops me whining like a pussy every time someone on a social networking site says something I don’t agree with. Football fans are horrendous in this regard. In what other arena of life would someone scream blue murder at somebody for 90 minutes and then go wibbling to a policeman the second the subject of that abuse puts a finger to his lips? That’s what this country really needs, for everyone to be told they’re a cunt more often.

On that charming note, I bid you adieu until next week.

Follow me on twitter @LittleDutchVA

So a season that has been haemorrhaging from the guts since late February has now been put out of its misery. It’s been like watching your sickly dog leaving heaping trails of his epidermis on the carpet as he looks limply for a place to die. You know tears will be shed and that you’ll miss the little fella, but in a way you’re glad he’s out of his misery. That and you’ll no longer have to clear his tightly coiled piles off the bathroom rug. The little fucker.

With that, the trip to Craven Cottage felt more like a wake than a funeral. The lip trembling, the caw and the caterwaul had all been done. Fulham was the time for some boozing and some beery breathed renditions of some old folk classics to send 2010-11 swirling into touch. 3,000 troubadours laid siege upon London’s most picturesque football ground. For the last few years, the guys at Red Action have arranged for a supporters’ boat trip to Fulham which I am informed is, ahem, “well stocked” with sweet, song giving elixir.

There was no time for carousing and quaffing ale

Those of us that forewent the boat appeared to be likewise inclined for a liquid lunch, as the Boathouse pub on Putney Bridge was swelling with thirsty Gooners well before the clock had struck 1. With our gullets plenty soggy from aqua vitae and our jaws dripping with drink, the atmosphere in the Putney End was raucous – even if both teams played with a distinctly ‘Do we have to?’ air. Given the choice between some of the dummy spitting, bilious outpours seen at the Villa game last week and the gallows humour exhibited by the fans at the Cottage, I’ll take a large slab of satire to make a point every time.

With that, every wasted Fulham set play was met with an ironic chant of “We defended a corner!” Whilst I didn’t join in myself, I did titter at the “It’s Denilson’s leaving party, take Eboue and Diaby” song. Meanwhile, an apt chorus of, “Thomas Vermaelen, we’ve missed him all year” had just about everyone nodding their heads concurrently. However, by the end of the match, with Arsenal again toiling with all the creative impetus of a tramp’s sock, the air did begin to turn blue again with an impassioned rendition of “spend some fucking money!”

I could analyse the Fulham match in more depth. But then I could produce 500 words on why Tracey Emin is a goblin faced fucktard. It wouldn’t tell you a lot that you didn’t already know. Without Fabregas we can’t create earwax and van Persie ought to have traded his name and squad number in in March in favour of having “Go on then, give it to me, I’ll do it” printed on his back. With Drogba ageing and Torres floundering hilariously, I believe the best central striker in the world is playing for Arsenal again.

I wrote last week that I felt certain the axe would swing and we already have confirmation that Denilson and Bendtner are eyeing the exit door. Both are at an age where they need to play regularly now or else they will stagnate and you can’t see either getting that chance at Arsenal. Bendtner will probably be the more sorely missed. His goals to games record is impressive for a guy his age and whenever he’s had a run in the team, he’s shown great promise.

Unfortunately, I think many are taken in by the media caricature of Nicky as a supreme egoist. But if you actually read his quotes (and not the accompanying headlines), most of what he says is aspirational. But of course, the press turn “My aim is to be the best striker in the world” into “I am the best striker in the world” and people roll over and have their bellies tickled like Pavlov’s Dogs. The media throw the bait and the masses chow down on it like good little puppies. But isn’t that Michael Owen such a spiffing chap? Here boy, have another Scooby Snack.

Denilson’s comments appeared to attract a volley of invective from Arsenal fans, which I fail to understand really. None of the comments he made were outlandishly controversial. It strikes me we’ve all been expressing our frustration that Arsenal play nice football and don’t win trophies for a number of years, yet when a player says it we all go doolally tap.

He didn’t even say that he felt he should be in the team either, just that he wasn’t and he wanted to go somewhere where he could play. It strikes me that Arsenal fans have been screaming at him to fuck off for the last three years, so why the vitriol? Football fans are a precious lot aren’t they? I dunno, maybe it’s me that’s the weirdo here.

Bendtner and Denilson have confirmed their exits, Tomas Rosicky is still living in the woods with the jackals and Manuel Almunia was last seen staring down the business end of a Jens Lehmann suplex. You have to feel Carlos Vela will be jettisoned and that’s not even to mention the contract situations of Messrs Clichy and Nasri. One way or another, the winds of change are going to blow through N5 this summer.

I was minded on another site of the Simpsons episode where Homer becomes the coach of Bart’s football team. “Denilson, you’re cut, Almunia- cut, Bendtner- cut. Eboue – I like your hustle, that’s why it was so hard to cut you” and so on.

I guess now the silly season starts and the English language does not have sufficient vocabulary for me to properly articulate my apathy towards the whole sorry circus. I simply cannot get excited by any of the shadow boxing or the endless reels of rubbish.

I guess it’s indicative of how television has changed the game, that names and numbers on a screen have become more important than the ball and the grass for some. Which is cool. But for me, the game predominantly exists in the match day experience – if the tang of horseshit and fried onions isn’t in my nostrils or the gentle hum of the crowd isn’t in my ears, it doesn’t really get my juices flowing.

I think it also brings out the worst in supporters. We all begin to flatter ourselves that we’re equipped with the kind of expert scouting facilities (You Tube) that enable us to pass judgement on every potential signing. The complex intricacies of transfer negotiations are reduced to the stroke of a pen. “Sell him and him for £20m, buy him and him for £10m each, then Robert is your father’s brother. He who dares Rodders, he who dares.”

Even when a transfer is signed, sealed, delivered and sporting a cheesy grin on Arsenal.con I can’t wet my knickers with delirium. You can never forecast how a signing is going to turn out. We could unveil Lionel Messi tomorrow, but he might be exposed to kryptonite and lose all his powers, or else catch an acute case of Jose Reyes syndrome and cry for his mummy by next summer. Tomas Rosicky was a superstar, blockbuster signing and, through little fault of his own, that signing can hardly be said to have propelled the club to new plateaus in the last 5 years.

Well, that about wraps it up this week. It’s been an emotional season but I’ve still enjoyed it and I’ve particularly enjoyed the chance to have met some of you since I started this column. Hope to see you again at the qualifier in August. My summer holiday is Rubin Kazan, can’t wait. Right, I’m off to give Barry Ferguson’s hair a consolatory ruffle. Enjoy the Championship, cuntbiscuit. Up the Arse. LD.

Follow me on twitter @LittleDutchVA