As time goes by, like a stick in a river stuck to a turtle who has a sticky label of a Schwarz spice bottle of dried thyme stuck to his shell for no good reason at all other than to try and win worst metaphor of the year award, it’ll be curious to see how 2014 is viewed.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing, as we know. It allows us to view things with a bit of perspective, freed from the shackles of ire and rage, like an angry man called Ray G who …er … I’ll stop now. But, you know what I mean. The instant, visceral reaction to stuff fades (for most normal people anyway), and you get to look at what’s occurred with some composure. You can take stock.
I suspect, for many, the year will be one where the difficult/painful moments are remembered more than the good, simply because there were more of those moments. Off the top of the head we’ve got:
– The big defeats to Chelsea and Liverpool (and annoying ones like Stoke and Everton)
– The title challenge falling apart
– 3% ticket price rise for no good reason at all other than they knew they could
– No defenders and no defenders make Arsenal something something
– An ever more divided fanbase
– Injury after injury after injury after worse injury after setback after … etc
– Those people on Twitter/Facebook who can never find any joy in anything and want to make sure you know it over and over again
– The seemingly unending familiarity to our flaws and not much apparently being done about it
– The constant erosion of anything approaching basic manners and decency when people disagree about anything regarding football
– [Insert your own here]
And look, I guess that’s human nature to an extent. You’re more likely to remember the incident when a bus full of orphans, on their way to a day out at the fun fair, is being driven by a man who has a heart attack and plunges into a ravine and all the orphans, those poor, poor orphans, are killed on impact except a few who survive, badly mangled, but are devoured by river piranha (if such things exists), than the nice sandwich you had on that picnic on a warm day.
But this year gave us a bus full of orphans moment except just as the bus was about to hit the water Superman flew in and saved the bus and the orphans all went on the rollercoaster. We didn’t have Superman, per se, but we did have a Big Fucking German swoop in just before we were all going to die with a header at Wembley against Wigan. Is it wrong to suggest that was a goal that had a seismic impact on the future of Arsenal Football Club?
Had it not happened, I don’t think there was any way Arsene Wenger could have stayed on as manager. We were 8 minutes from impact (it was a very deep ravine) and Mertesacker’s goal saved the day. It’s worth remembering our form going into that match was awful. The previous four games were 6-0 Chelsea, 2-2 Swansea (Flamini 90th minute OG), 1-1 Man City, 3-0 Everton.
The bus was plummeting. Having successfully, and quite convincingly let’s not forget, got to the semis of the cup by beating Sp*rs (haha), Coventry, Liverpool (haha), and Everton, we tried our very best to shit the bed against Wigan. Wigan! With all due respect to them … WIGAN!
Then in the final, just as Superman had started to us fly to safety, he had some kind of stroke; his tongue flibbling out of the side of his mouth, his eyes crossed and some Super-drool forming on his chin, we went 1-0 down then 2-0 down and almost 3-0 down inside 14 minutes. Had somebody put Kryptonite up his jacksie?
Mighty Mouse came to the rescue with a free kick, then early Bart Simpson man brought us level, before the Welsh Jesus did get the goal and the goal was good and somebody’s loaf of bread turned into many loaves and a whole pile of fish but nobody cared because we won the cup. The beer and rum did not taste of fish and the celebrations were an outpouring of pent-up joy because, I read this somewhere, it had been some time since we had won a trophy (I never knew that, but hey).
I think it’s safe to say that whatever side of the ‘debate’ you’re on, whatever the feelings about Arsene Wenger, Stan Kroenke, the way the club is run or not run, our recruitment policy, the structures, or anything else, for at least a few moments we had a collective moment where everybody was just really happy.
Even if now there are some who will suggest the FA Cup isn’t much of a trophy because it doesn’t suit them to admit that, I bet when the Ramsey goal went in and when the final whistle went and we climbed the steps to hoist the famous old cup aloft they smiled and they felt that tingle down their spine. If it didn’t last long for them, ah well, so be it, but it was there.
And it’s a rare thing, you know, that football does. It gives us these moments. Sometimes they are fleeting in the grand scheme of things. A goal, for example, provokes a similar reaction. A snapshot when everybody who supports the club can’t help but give a ‘Yes!’ of some description. The rowdiest, unhappiest crowd inside a stadium will come together when the ball hits the back of the net. Maybe not for long, but it happens.
So when you don’t win a trophy for ages and then you do, it lasts a little bit longer. For some I’m sure it faded more quickly. For some there are other things more important to them than that, and that’s grand. To each their own, I say. I may not agree with it, or always understand it, but I’m too long in the tooth to really give a shit one way or the other.
But for all the things that we’ve endured this calendar year, and there have been some really dark, difficult moments (bearing in mind this is just football after all, not a matter of life or death despite what that Liverpool bloke said), we ought not to forget that time when we were all just happy. It doesn’t happen as often as we might like, and for most football fans it never really happens at all.
There are issues at this football club which we’ve been over and over on this blog, on the podcasts, in the comments and the news articles Ad infinitum. We’ll no doubt discuss and debate and argue and deal with them throughout 2015, but despite the all-encompassing, never-ending, discourse, driven by a frenzy for information and knowledge, exacerbated for some by the feeling of vague helplessness because very little of what we say or do has an impact on any of it, I choose to remember 2014 as a year when something good happened.
We were all friends for just a little while. Oh, and we won the cup.
