It’s an Interlull. That means Arsenal news is thin on the ground. Thankfully I have prepared for this by commissioning content from exactly the right people – the players who haven’t gone away with their countries on this occasion. We have exclusive diary extracts from a number of them to show you what they get up to during the quiet times. It’s fascinating stuff.
So here we go, starting with:
8.00: Woke up full of energy and ready for training. Then remembered the boss had given us a few days off. Am immediately filled with rage and slide tackle the bedroom lamp. Lamp is on the floor. Tell it ‘f*ck off and get the f*ck up’. Instead it just lies there like some kind of electrical Gareth Bale.
11.34: Decide to pass some time with a walk in the park. See some kids playing three-and-in. Challenge them. They seem very happy to play with a professional footballer.
11.36: Leave the park briskly, hope the crying of the children doesn’t attract too much attention. Not my fault though, if you’re going to put it about, you’ve got to expect a little back. Probably shouldn’t have kicked them quite so hard all the same.
17.16: Just out from a movie about an Irish drag queen. Who knew Colin Farrell was such a versatile actor?
17.24: Go to video game store to buy Fallout 4. They’re sold out. Am consumed with an anger that could provide power to most of North Korea. Resist the urge to slide tackle shop assistant. It’s not really his fault, and he suggests downloading it.
18.04: Download Fallout 4.
18.12: Start Fallout 4. This is gonna be great.
18.13: Installing 1%, WTF is this?!
18.17: Installing 2%. JESUS-CAKE-BAKING-CHRIST! Anger returns.
18.23: Installing 3%. Slide tackle PS4, take that microchips and plastic.
18.24: Ooops, feel a bit of a twinge in my leg. Thought the thing that went snap was the console. The boss is not going to like this.
23.01: Meditation and wellness overcomes me. I feel nothing. There is no pain. There is only now, and there is only Francis Coquelin. Time to go to bed.
23:03: Step on upturned plug in bare feet. RAAAAAAAAAGE!
8.03: Wake up and have breakfast. It’s delicious. Breakfast is my favourite meal to have in the morning. Whoever invented breakfast ought to feel ever so proud of themselves. Where would we be without it? People would get dizzy from hunger and pass out, leading to many more accidents, so really breakfast is one of the greatest things ever to happen to the human race.
9.15: Go to training ground to get some treatment on my hamstring. While lying there, I try and work out which is my favourite colour: Magnolia or Beige. I just can’t choose, they’re both so lovely.
11.34: Go to the park to walk the dog. Parks are excellent places for walking dogs because they’re green and there aren’t any cars in them. If you’ve never been to a park, I recommend going to a park, because parks are ever so nice. Dogs are also really great. They have four legs and they lick your face when they’re happy, and wag their tails. Other animals also have four legs and are good, it’s just that dogs are my favourite.
16.23: Watch Countdown. I love the Conundrum because it sounds like the name of a Welsh village.
17.57: Have dinner. I sometimes make a little joke at home and call dinner ‘evening breakfast’. Gosh, we do laugh ever so much. I don’t like when meals are combined though. The concept of ‘brunch’ really bothers me. If you can’t commit to breakfast or lunch then there’s something wrong with you.
22.05: Tonight was Local News night when we sit down and catch up on a month’s worth of local news bulletins. I really hope that church raises enough money from its garden fete to repair the steeple.
23.04: Receive angry text message from Francis Coquelin. Oh dear, he’s in the Anger Zone again. He really ever so much needs a dog.
8.05: This morning I am go back to Barcelona, bruv. Getting a swish award and that. Young Catalan Playa of the Year, I fink.
8.09: Can’t decide which ‘at to wear. Settle on Beefeater, yeah.
9.15: Oh mah gawd, pretty impractical ‘eadgear for airport I ‘ave to say!
12.34: Stroll down Ramblas. Some old geez I fink I recognise from somewhere comes up to me wanting to chat shit about my DNA and that. Weirdo. Tell ‘im to fack right orf.
12.35: That bloke ‘e was from the Sopranos! I knew I knew ‘im.
15.03: Time for a quick Call of Duty session online against some mugs. They fink they can beat the ‘ector, naaaaaaah mate.
19.15: Get my award. Gerard Pique is there wiv Shakira. Doll is giving me eyes all night. Loves my ‘air, I bet.
20.42: Snapchat Calum Chambers.
23:34: Get reply from Chambers … ‘is fumbs are nearly as slow as ‘is legs innit!
23.04: Get angry text message from Coquelin, bloke is mad. Drop phone on foot.
05.30: Wake up. Do yoga.
06.30: Shower, do my hair.
09.30: Finish doing hair.
09.45: Go to training ground. Do more yoga. Some Pilates. Stretching. More yoga. Perfect downward facing dog. Must remember not to tell Aaron. He’ll go on about how dogs have tails for ages.
13.06: Have lunch with Per Mertesacker. He can eat a whole sandwich in 20 seconds. Discuss programme notes for next game.
14.53: Start programme notes.
It was a bright cold day in November, and the injury list was striking thirteen. No. All this happened, more or less. Or did it? My memory is not what it was. Call me Mikael. Too whaley. Will work on this later.
18.03: Notice a hair out of place. Call ambulance.
03.35: What a mess they’ve made of the NHS. It’s taken this long to be seen to. Underwent emergency hairendectomy. Doctors have managed to remove rogue hair. All is right with the world.
08.01: Miss Mesut.
08.02: Miss Mesut.
08.03: Miss Mesut.
08.04: Miss Mesut.
08.05: Mesut comes out of the shop. Yay Mesut!
More tomorrow, assuming anything happens. Probably not going to have an Arsecast due to the Interlull. Yet another black mark for Sepp Blatter.
Have a good one.