Gooners, the 2008/9 edition

Another year and another transfer window filled with Arsene Wenger keeping his cool and counsel amidst much gnashing and tearing of hair amongst the red-and-white faithful.

But there were signs that the Professor aka Godfather Arsene has heard a little bit that he thought he ought to do something about.

Funny enough though, it's the bit about how ugly the senior squad is.

So, ladies and gents ... Voila!

The Pretty Young Goons of 2008


AARON RAMSEY
("Goon ID" ... initials and shirt number ... : AR16)

First, the Welsh kid from Cardiff.

Not much in the face department but more of a Hunkyboy-next-door.

He turns 18 on Dec 26 this year.







SAMIR NASRI
(Goon ID: SN8)

This is the Algerian kid touted as the next Zidane.

The combination of impish cheekiness and dark brooding look reminds me uncannily of Robbie Fowler and Val Kilmer both.

He's 21 - young yet experienced .... probably in more than one area.




CARLOS VELA
(Goon no: CV12)

Boy wonder from Mexico who spent three seasons playing in Spain on loan for Celta Vigo, Salamanca and Osasuna.

Golden Boot winner and champions in FIFA U-17 World Cup in 2005.

Four goals in last four games for Mexico senior squad.

He's 19 this year.




His new hair makes him look a bit like Theo Walcott, innit?



Who's the pretty boy, then?

True Love Means ...

Salford Scum ... 2 (Cronnie 52nd pen, Hargreaves 72nd)

Gooners ... 1 (Ade 48th Hand of God)

That's the Implosion completed - starting from Eduardo's horrific injury and last minute penalty that seemed to kick off a stream of dubious refereeing decisions that slapped our faces and kept the implosion going until this inevitable end at the home of the auld enemy, Old Trafford.

In a perverse way, I'm rather glad Ade's goal didn't win the match - I'd rather we lose than win a game with a goal like that.

Still, thanks lads - for a roller-coaster of a season and for over-performing even against unreasonable odds.

Twas not to be a trophy-winning season, but it was certainly wank-worthy, innit?

Bless you and here's to next season.


*click the play button to load and listen while you read

Love hurts, love scars,
Love wounds, it marks,
Any heart, not tough,
Or strong, enough
To take a lot of pain,
Take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
Holds a lot of rain
Love hurts, ooh ooh love hurts


I'm young, I know,
But even so
I know a thing, or two
I learned, from you
I really learned a lot,
Really learned a lot
Love is like a flame
It burns you when it's hot
Love hurts, ooh ooh love hurts



Some fools think of happiness

Blissfulness, togetherness

Some fools fool themselves I guess

They're not fooling me ...






I know it isn't true,
I know it isn't true
Love is just a lie,
Made to make you blue

Love hurts, ooh,ooh love hurts
Ooh,ooh love hurts



----------------------------------



But damn if I don't still love you guys.

Gooners Forever!

One Last Great Charge

*sigh ... lately I can't help but see this mental picture every time the ref blows the final whistle at the end of an Arsenal game.





Like the proverbial Big Bad Wolf, we'd huff and puff and, blimey if we didn't bring the house down - usually with some nifty and fleet footwork - by sticking it in whenever we could.

But not lately, innit?

And so, while we still have a bit left to try salvage the season, it's a no-brainer that we'd have to choose between the EPL and the CL.

The EPL has just 4 games to go - but we've 6 pts to make up.

The CL has also 4 games to go - but we're in with a decent shout.

So come ON, Gooners! Once more into the, *cough breach!






So let that beast out.

Get stuck into THIS already ...!!!


*this is an old school visualisation technique ... really.

12 Days of Destiny

------------------------------------------------

"Going into March and April, if you've done well in the season up to then it's the moment of truth. You work the whole year for that. This will be the highest challenge for me in my career. The next 12 days will define our season ..."

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... and here's hoping for a really magical march into May.

A FOCKING BASTARD

Football has been, and will continue to be, a significant part of my life.

My late dad was the inspiration to all of us in the family.

All of us boys played the game - all at various positions and me at right back (or wing-back, fullback? God knows what they call it nowadays).

But none of us ever reached the heights that our Dad did.

Me Dad played at centreback - and he was good enough to have played for Selangor in the days of the HMS Malaya Cup.

He even got a winners medal and made that position a somewhat hallowed one for us.

It therefore pains me to see someone, especially a so-called professional, who plays in this position commit an act that even Vinnie Jones would have thought twice about.

Especially when such an act, despite the protestations of this player's manager, was aimed at hurting an opponent.

This bastard, whose name I will not let sully this blog of mine, is the Birmingham City centre-back.

And a twat named Steve Bruce says this doesn't even warrant a yellow card.

And last night he made a studs-up challenge on Eduardo da Silva in the 3rd minute of the game.

The challenge trapped Eduardo's shin against the ground and proceeded to snap our Crozillian's tibia and fibula.

In short he broke both the bones in Eduardo's leg.

And pictures showed a bone shard poking through the flesh and stocking of the player.

Cesc Fabregas, who was closest to the scene, was almost moved to tears while other hardened professionals struggled not to vomit at the sight of his twisted limb.

It took more than eight minutes to treat him on the pitch before they moved him to the hospital.

Ambulance men were reportedly ashen-faced after treating him.

And Sky TV refused to show replays of the incident - deeming it too horrific.

Eduardo will not only miss playing for Croatia in the European Championship, but it is also possible that he will never play professionally again.

Here's what the bastard looks like.


Already his manager, Alex MacLeish, is protesting that he's "not kind of person".

But then, that's what some people would always say when someone's unmasked as a serial killer.

I don't want to kill this bastard, or cause him bodily harm.

But just like Arsene, I just don't want to see him on a football pitch again.

Ever.

Focking Bastard.

The Focking Bastard was actually grinning ...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=5bVmG92ykl0

--------------------------------------------------
Update:

Eduardo's wife is quoted as saying that only the fibula (outer bone) was snapped and the tibia is still intact. She also said there were no complications, so I'm hoping that's all true.

The Focking Bastard is still a focking bastard anyhow.
---------------------------------------------------

Angry football fans (especially Gooners) - go and sign this. It'll make you feel better.

The Ban Martin Taylor For Life Petition

One small letter, one BIG cock-up

It wasn't Steve McClaren's fault at all that night.

Really.

Here's the villain, the man who inspired the Croats to unceremoniously boot England out of Euro 2008 ...


His name is Tony Henry.


He's not Thierry "Who?" Henry but neither is he much of a villain.


He sings for his money - and the other day he sang both the English and Croatian anthems before the game.



Well, he's supposed to sing ... mila kuda si planina at the end of the Croatian anthem.

Which means, "You know my dear, how we love your mountains" ...

*snicker, which is bad enough for someone who sees things as I do ... but THEN ...

He sang ... mila kura si planina instead ...

... one little letter which transforms that line to ...

"My dear, my penis is a mountain" ....

Thus England's chances were well and truly cocked-up as the inspired boys in blue proceeded to show just how much, *cough ... bigger Croatians are ...

And oh, but now the Croatian team are looking for Tony Henry.

They want to adopt him as their mascot.

I'm not kidding ... read it all here.

---------------------------------------------------------

Goonerboys ... 2
(Gallas 82nd, Rosicky 86th)

Wigan ... 0


Ever had one of those bonking sessions when both of you went on and on for hours but neither of you seemed able to come?

And after so much humping and pumping, when that release finally came it was so powerful that it was almost as painful as it was a relief?

Well, this game was like one of those ...

Denilson, Diarra, Eboue and Walcott made a pig's ear out of it while Pollitt the Elderly and the rest of the Wigan bunch made us hump and pump that ball all around the stadium.

And Pollitt was only playing because Chris Kirkland failed a late fitness test due to a viral infection.

He threw up in the dressing room.

A Wigan official, while mentioning the incident to the press, coolly said, "He saw the Arsenal team-list".

Yeah, maybe but we needed 82 minutes and Willy Gallas and Niklas Bendtner to nick the three points.

Then again, Manure made a cow's arse at Bolton, innit? Heh!



Cristy got injured when he did this in the Portugal team shower.
The line that formed immediately behind him broke the previous record previously achieved at the Lisbon Correctional Facility showers in 1998.

Still Standing ... all the way up

Take one thousand apologies.

Paste on an appropriately apologetic face.

Decorate with hands held up acknowledging guilt.

Maaf zahir batin, yek?

I know I'm guilty of not updating often enough but it's not because I've been busy feeding others with my lemang and lontong.

First off, it's my boss' fault - he's the one who gave me a last-minute outstation assignment right after my Raya break.

Secondly it was my car's fault - it blew a gasket and overheated on a cold, wet dawn 70km from KL.

Third villain of the saga is a stupid stomach bug - which laid me low on the first day of my assignment and a record 18 trips to the crapper in 24 hours.

The fourth fly in this stinky ointment was a parallel project that more or less ran itself, luckily.

While the 5th element was my home streamyx that had Lady C scream blue murder cos she had just signed on an online course.

And I'm still away from home as I write this.

But it's not all bad to be frank.

I get to stay in a nice hotel with a great view of the sea from my room (and that cute receptionist is trying to get on my good side :P).

There's also a nice daily allowance that should make up for that horrendous car repair bill.

And hopefully the assignment would be long enough for that said allowance to make a few more of my creditors happy.

And since the Divine is always fair, things are getting better by the day since I got my superpowers back.

Then two tough tests for my favourite borstal boys - and we're still left standing, still unbeaten.

And to cap it all - still leading the Premiership table.


Rafa's Ponces ... 1
Gerardine 7th

Borstal Boys ... 1
Cesc 80th

Plot Summary: Gerard and Co tried a smash-and-grab on Mullet and the Borstal Boys with a bullet through a wall that Flams sneakily dodged in favour of preserving his family jewels.

Hleb threaded a killer pass and Mullet slipped one past Pepet to silence the terraces.

Oh, we played with Pepet's woodie twice by the way ...

------------------------------------------------------

Borstal Boys ... 2
Cesc 48th, Gallas 92nd

Manure ... 2
Gallas o.g. 45th, Cristy 83rd

I had to change hotels to make sure I'd catch this match on ESPN - the trouble with being on the road is that sometimes hotel managers just don't have a frickin' clue what the guest needs.

It was worth the effort - my admin manager's actually, I just told him what I wanted. Heh!

In case anyone is culinarily interested, I had a quick dinner of sizzling beef and young kailan with only Terry Pratchett for company before rushing back to catch the match - well, the restaurant was barely 5 minutes away anyway.

Unlike the Scousers, the Mancunian Manure didn't fling themselves around like gymnasts at an orgy as soon as the whistle blew.

I'd like to get one thing straight - Old Man Fergie showed that his wines haven't addled his brain cells much and he got his formation right for this game.

Arsene admitted as much in a post-match interview when he pointed out that ours looked a bit dodgy in comparison.

Anyway I think the boys performed better than Fergie's Farts in that despite the limitations of the Godfather's approach, we had more of the ball.

Almunia was a tad too nervous, I think and should have done better with that second goal we conceded.

It was a good draw - in that we fully deserved it and got it in the end.

Fergie's post match whingeing finally moved him to the lead past Arsene with some fantastic claims that ...

.... they were robbed by the ref (actually meaning the ref was actually unbiased) and

... they felt threatened by the crowd (well, some old ladies did wag one-fingered threats at them).



I think they're just pissed cos after all that, they're still looking up our Arse in the table.

-------------------------

Slavia Praha ... 0


Borstal Boys ... 0

... and this makes it three in a row. And with us qualifying while still topping the group.

Dreary game - I think they were more ecstatic over their one point than we were after the Man U game.

Then again, they did defend very well.

--------------------------------

Were You Not Entertained?

The Borstal Boys ... 7
(Cesc 5th,58th Hrubecek o.g. 24th, Theo 41st, 55th Hleb 52nd Bendtner 89th)

Slavia Praha ... 0


He glides silkily past a pair of unbalanced foes.

Picking the cue from his crafty Belarusian compatriot, he bides his time in unhurried poise.

He fixes his gaze upon his target and with one swift stroke, kills it dead.

The stadia erupted in ecstasy, "Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard!"

Five minutes into the contest and the slaughter had only just begun.








For the Godfather's 58th birthday yesterday, Cesc was in charge of the entertainment.

Here he does a not-very-good impersonation of Antonio Banderas.

Well, at least he didn't try a Russell Crowe.

Pat Rice trying to collect his winning bet over the final score.

The Week that was A Dour One

It has been a dour week.

The way our games went over the weekend was a harbinger of things to come.

By Wednesday I found myself facing my bosses and explaining how, why and what had gone so spectacularly wrong.

It was one of those rare days that I'm thankful that I'm not working for the Mob.

They'd probably feed me to the fishes just on general principles.

Anyway we got stuck in, we ground out our own results and yesterday, we smelled our own victory.

Just like the boys did.

So, just for the record, here's how the games went.

----------------------------------------------------
Blunt Hammers ... 0

The Goonery ... 1
(Der Pussie 13th)

We started bright,
we did things right,
we kept it tight.
One-nil to the Arsenal!

They went for us,
Hammer and Tongs;
and oh, were they were so wrong;
So it was
A kick in the nuts
for The Hammers!

(This is a poor attempt at mimicking JRR Tolkien's war songs in LOTR - Ed Cipan)

It was a bright spectacle in the first half where Hleb made the telling cross which der Pussie buried past Robert Green.

Then Mark Noble did a passable imitation of a rabid zombie as he tried to tenderise Hleb's left leg while it was still attached to its Ukrainian owner.

I was half-expecting the Absolutely Fab Cesc to come flying out, titanium claws fully extended a la Wolverine (I just include this bit for Pugly, so that I can put a pic of Hugh Jackman in.), at Noble as soon as play resumed but surprise, surprise - no flying fur in this game.


It was West Ham after all and I had expected the odd spate of fisticuffs to add to the day's flavour but alas, all was pretty civilised as Da Hammers actually went on to try to win fairly.

When did we all get domesticated - phbbbffftttt ....

Twas NOT a typical London derby but all three points for us by TKO.

****************************************
Steaua Bucharest ... 0


The Goonery ... 1
(der Pussie again, 76th)

Yep - der Pussie scored two goals that won us two games this week.


I'm still pretty much ambivalent about der Pussie. He's fast, he's skilful and he's scored some great goals.


But he can't make play for sh*t.

Then again, it's probably just me. Being skilful in just sticking it in, like the Scouser legend Ian Rush, doesn't really impress me.

What does get to me would be beautiful approach play ...

... the deft one-touch,

... the subtle nudging,

.... the sly reverse angle that never fails to surprise,

Then the instinctive running into nifty positions ...

... and the prising apart of that oh-so-tight defence ...

... then those last few flicks ...

...then slickly stroking it home ...

... slamming it in - emphatically ...

... wanting to fill it all up ...

... till it busts ...

... wide open.

..

.

I think I should have a shower now.

Lambs to the slaughter

The London Goonery ... 5
(Ade 25th, 49th pen, 80th; Diaby 9th, Fab Cesc 70th)


A Flock of Sheep ... 0

-------------------------------
There's more than two weeks to go till Id and a couple of months before the Great Sacrifice of Bairam (Id ul-Adha) that traditionally marks the culmination of the annual Haj in Mecca.

But it looks like Bairam has come early in the UK, courtesy of the flock of sheep from Derbyshire that is currently making its round of the EPL venues.

The Spuds culled four while greedy Scousers pounced on a half-dozen in previous weeks before our beloved borstal boys nonchalantly feasted on five out of what looked like fattened stock.

It's a bit painful to see because the Rams have a proud history - they were champions twice in 1971-72 and 1974-75 and had a good number of notable players.

Roy McFarland (27 caps) was a midfield mainstay of the England squad filled with the likes of Gordon Banks, Bobby Charlton, Alan Ball and Emlyn Hughes together with team-mates Colin Todd (27) and David Nish (5).

Others include Peter Shilton, Charlie George, Archie Gemmill, Leighton James and many more.

Heck, they even have a hooligan firm, called the Derby Lunatic Fringe.

But they were never in the game last night; we were obviously playing at a controlled half-pace yet managed to score five - giving the impression of vicious predators circling and picking off a bleating pack.

Diaby scored a top-corner gem and the Absolutely Fab Cesc ran riot in the midfield like a priapic in a harem.

It looked like overkill at first glance.

But it's obvious that the Godfather has been listening to Macca on Football Focus.

So it will always be making safe the three points first before tinkering with the team.

And me praying hard that we'd be feasting on lamb chops all the way till May next year.

The Merdeka Week Review

Arsenal 3
(Ade 7th pen, Cesc 35th, Rosicky 58th)


Pompey 1
(Kanu 59th)




Bad Day at the Office
Philip Senderos

46th min ... Great chance, header saved
48th min ... Red card






Had Great Time
Cesc Fabregas

"When he was a young boy he scored goals and that's a nice disease to have."
Prof Wenger






Other League news ...


What the current League leaders did over the weekend ...

Poor Derby ... Torres and Alonso did it twice each, Carra and Stevie G stayed well away.

:P