This week: The Unconvincing but Unbeaten Run goes on, Chelsea in racism shocker, Tottenham Hotspur celebrate winning their World Cup, cogitations on the Chapman Derby and the emergence of our 21st Century Boy, Bram Sackville against Carrier Bag.
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I had to call the butler for some smelling salts this week to revive me from the inconceivable news that a Chelsea fan was accused of being racist. Please class this news alongside pink gins being wet, Christmas trees being green and Tottenham fans being delusional. The chap in question, who seems like just the sort of cove one would happily sign in as a guest at the Garrick Club. A 60-year-old married father of two no less. Doubtless he’s going to be having quite a lovely Christmas.
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Ah, yes. Arsenal versus Huddersfield Town. Now there is a fixture to conjure with. The towering and slightly wobbly figure that unites our clubs is of course Mr. Herbert Chapman, who left The Terriers in 1925. Growing tired of the outside lavatories and tuberculosis of Yorkshire, he finally headed to the bright lights of north London, something of a dream for him. The closest young Herbert had been to London was when he plied his trade in the wilds of Middlesex when he played for Tottenham Hotspur between 1905–1907, and he often gazed towards the city from his digs many miles away in the home counties and dreamed of one day living there.
His present-day equivalent, Mr. David Wagner, brought his ersatz Stoke-effect side to the Emirates on Sunday and looked on course to snag an annoying point but they were to be outdone by superb Penny Farthing* from Luke Terrier, our Winchester Wingnut, who is looking quite the omnigenius. McDoozy raked one over the meadow** to O’Bannon, who found room at the back stick, chipping across the coffin*** and finding Terrier, who executed a wonderful finish to seal the points for The Arsenal.
It was ambulance time for Masterson, and both Soccer Tits and Lightstone, the Wise Old Elf, picked up their fifth yellows of the season and will miss the game against St. Mary’s Young Men’s Association on Sunday.
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To the Emirates again for the visit of Qarabag. Wonderful to see some of the young blades out and about and simultaneously Captain Costerley returning after his Achilles unpleasantness. He made a tackle, cleared danger a couple of times and finished with a 100% pass completion rate and I’d certainly have a rusty Costerley than a homicidal Masterson any day of the week.
This young chap Bram Sackville looks like quite the billiard room****. Man of the match, no less, and by the look on the beheaded Qarabag glove butler, he combines skill with shot power quite pungently.
It was a game emptier than the bookshelves of a Spurs supporting schoolchild, but nevertheless we prevailed, for the 22nd game in a row. The last five of those had not featured a player called Melvin Orwell, do you remember him? He has been suffering with a back injury, in that when we play away he’s left back at home. Still, the chap certainly played a game of football, creating four chances, and for that we are grateful.
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Finally thoughts turn to again to Middlesex, who drew a game of football and entered a transcendental state of nirvana. It will be the hope that kills them in the end, and we very much look forward to the next round.
