Yesterday I promised you all a blog post of depth and substance, as opposed to the occasions where I ramble aimlessly about anything that might take my fancy. Today, I shall fulfil that promise by presenting you this entry. Behold, its great wonder. Tremble, as I unearth the mysteries of the universe that have plagued mankind for centuries. Yelp in delight, as I give you the kind of warm, frothy, informational cappuccino that goes down an absolute treat and really sets you up for the rest of the day.
So, let’s begin…
Firstly – Jack Wilshere. A player I really admire. Granted, his injury record reads like a litany of ailments the likes of which you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy, and his performances often see him frustratingly ploughing into dead ends with alarming regularity. But there’s no debating the kid is special. Well, given Arsenal’s fan base and our propensity for squabbling, there’s every chance that could be debated, but I’m not going to. I really do think he’s the future of our midfield. The obvious caveat to that statement is his fitness – or lack thereof – but should he be able to sustain his condition long enough to appear regularly, he’ll be a valuable player.
The Euros with England will be big for him. He has the opportunity to re-establish himself on the biggest of stages for his country and a good showing coupled with no flare ups of previous ankle issues will only be good for Arsenal next season. He’s currently fresh and raring to go. Jack will be suffering no post-season fatigue. The stage is set perfectly for him and nothing would make me happier than him to sway a few of the naysayers.
Secondly today – the new kit (pictured in the heading) and squad numbers. I don’t especially like the new shirt. My disdain is pretty much solely due to the bizarre dark stripe that appears down the middle. At first sight, I had assumed it to be a watermark to protect the original poster’s credit. Further inspection revealed it to be a purposeful design, which is incredibly baffling. Did those responsible at Puma sit around debating long into the night before reaching the conclusion,
“What the kit really needs to perfectly represent Arsenal is a completely random f*cking stripe down the centre in a colour of absolutely no relevance to the Club whatsoever”
Of course, it doesn’t help that an already grotesquely overpriced replica shirt bares an uncanny resemblance to its predecessor. Other than a different collar and that hideously ill-advised stripey blunder, it’s practically last season’s home shirt. They must think us fans are capable of sh*tting out the required funds at a moments notice.
On top of that, we’ve had to endure arguments about something as arbitrary as squad numbers. Us Gooners are pretty much capable of tearing lumps out of one another over anything, but squad numbers? Really? Does anyone actually give a f*ck who wears the No8 next season now that Arteta has retired? Obviousy, they do, if the Twitter exchanges are to be believed – I often assume some arguments are figments of my imagination, and I’ve gone loopy and not the rest of the universe.
Personally, it matters not a jot who wears what to me. It’s a number. Yes, previous incumbents may make that number stand out to an extent, but the number meant nothing then and it they still don’t now.
Lastly today, comes all the gossip and newsy goodness. Louis van Gaal has been given the proverbial boot by Man United and they’ve somehow made me sympathise with him by contriving to appoint the abhorrent one, Jose Mourinho. If ever there is a pairing that doesn’t add up, its that one. United, I begrudgingly respect as a team famed for playing Football with pace, guile and exuberance. For years, Alex Ferguson bought them success and style in equal measure. Mourniho might get you the former, but he’ll do it in the most snide, underhand way imaginable. The man defines the term, ‘Thunderc*nt’. He is the embodiment of what an thoroughly loathsome human being is. It’s testament to just how much of a sh*thouse the man is that I feel sorry for the manner in which Louis van Gaal has been treated.
In Arsenal transfer gossip (meh)., we’re after Alvaro Morata who, I am reliably informed, is like a “peak Giroud with pace” – Cheers, Daniel Cowan for that description. As is often the case with overseas players, I don’t really know all that much about him – seriously, how do so many people find the time to watch all the Premiership has to offer along with Europe’s other top leagues? – so my judgement is reserved for the time being. That’s mainly because I suspect this rumour is unlimited in its bulsh*t quota and will never materialise.
I could be wrong, but I doubt it.
That’s all for today, folks. My day ahead will be filled with work-related shenanigans and an alternative season review guest post for Goonersphere, which should surface at some point this morning, so keep ’em peeled for that. I shall return tomorrow with more. Until that time, and as always; thanks for reading, you beautiful bastards.