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Arsenal's red shirts a sign of communist influence over the game.

James Lawton

23 September 2003

Stalin's great revolution was bloody and swift, casting out the Czars and making Russia a communist regime from which it is still recovering. Arsenal Football Club have have done much the same thing to the Premiership, but their own brand of communism is far more dangerous and pernicious than the kind that killed thousands of people.

There are other clubs that play in red shirts, but none of them are the exact shade of communist red that Stalin had his underlings created to perfectly represent the all encompassing evil of state socialism. The blood of the worker, tinted with the slightest hint of menstrual discharge, part of a deep seated psychosis suffered by the man with the moustache and the fiery temper (and no, Archie Gemmill never had a moustache, but even if he did it would be ok because that's back in the old days) . Arsenal's players are menstruating all over football at the moment and something has to be done about it.

It's well known, and former Arsenal player Alan Smith confirmed it this weekend on Sky Television, that Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger is a rampant insurrectionist. An iconclast clutching his copy of The Communist Manifesto on the training field each day.

He preaches to his players, threatens them with excommunication from his militant wonderland if they fail to carry out his on-field assassinations, and makes them pay a percentage of their wages as a subscription to his poorly photocopied weekly newsletter, in which he highlights the targets for the weeks and months ahead.

Some of his recent ruses have included beating Middlesboro away from home, having Sol Campbell get himself sent off to lure poor Everton into a false sense of security and planting his master spy, his right hand man, David Seaman in goal for Manchester City to let in the goals that would give his old team 3 points.

A true communist, devious and cunning, intelligent and disgustingly French, he's leaving his stench upon our sport and I for one won't stand for it.

His methods are varied and multifarious. One week he will send out his troops to destroy another team, and without so much as a hint of regret, his players, many of them not even English, will deliberately play better football than their opponents. They'll score more goals, win more games, add to their trophy cabinet, all the while urged on by a brainwashed North London crowd, who resemble more and more the dead-eyed legions of early 20th century Soviets.

Other teams try valiantly to undermine this reprehensible rabble. Witness good Protestant Ruud van Nistelrooy's attempt to remove the Arsenal captain, the totem pole of Wenger's odious oligarchy, with some mild gamesmanship during Sunday's Old Trafford showdown.

Up against this evil empire, the Dutchman sought to level the playing field with a trickery and guile not seen since Napoleon was scuppered at Waterloo. His bravery, his certitude, his selfless endeavor to help his fellow professionals by lessening the power of the Arsenal machine should be commended. Although one has to ask why his team mates didn't share his courage and failed to back him up against the vicious, snarling raping the Arsenal players handed out at the end of the game, this man will go down as a legend.

He and he alone stood up to this stain, this oozing pus that envelopes the modern game. Were I a Smith of any kind (apart from Alan), I would forge a statue in his honour and if the FA have any conviction in wiping out the menace that is Arsenal, they should be commissioning sketches as we speak.

It's obvious to anyone, let alone experienced journalists with over 40 years of experience that Arsenal are a poison the game can do without. When you look at the very few positives they bring to the game, then take away the negatives, it makes no sense for this club to exist at all.

Yes, they have a nice stadium, soon to be replaced with a Kremlin of modern architecture at Ashburton Grove. They have a concierge at the front door and the press box always gets a nice sandwich, but apart from that they have nothing.

Then when you consider the flashy showmanship of Thierry Henry, the flat footed gimpery of Robert Pires (whose dives are mapped out by a Leningrad betting cartel), the sinister iceman and cold blooded assasin that is Dennis Bergkamp, and the awful, erudite, cultured and knowledgeable Wenger, there can be no excusing them.

'But what can we do?' I hear you ask.

It's time that Arsenal's players were rounded up, put in a big wooden box and sent to the frozen wastelands of Siberia, or perhaps the Alsace region of France. A dark and terrifying place, filled with mythical 'Frenchmen', who kiss you on both cheeks before falling over and clutching their testes.

For the good of the game, somebody needs to do something.

If not me, then it has to be you.

I urge you dear reader, take up your arms, defend your game, defend your country and murder an Arsenal person today. Beat them to death with their own arms that you hacked off with a blunt scythe. Set their feet on fire as you dangle them, hog-tied, over a pool full of hungry alligators. PICKLE THEIR EYEBALLS AND MAKE THEM CHOKE ON THEIR OWN EYEBALLS SO IN EFFECT YOU'RE KILLING THEM WITH THEMSELVES AS THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO BREATHE WHEN THEY'RE CHOKING ON THEIR OWN EYEBALLS!!!

It has to happen soon.

Meanwhile, count it a miracle if I ever write anything balanced and unbiased when it comes to Arsenal.

23 September 2003 17:46

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