48 hours has been and gone, and the mega deal alleged to be happening by Sky Sports is yet to materialise. Perhaps there is a slight delay on account of the weekend. Cheques do need a certain amount of working days to pass in order to be cleared…
Waiting for us Monday morning could be news so astonishing, our collective minds will melt and ooze from our nostrils. Arsenal fans the world over will be nothing more than flabbergasted zombies shambling about the streets offering bemused passers-by random grunts and howls of excitement.
Alternatively, the whole thing could just have been poppycock, which is the theory I am more inclined to believe. Signings will come in time, there may even be a couple that make us sit up and take notice, but I’m unable to really put too much faith in anything truly breathtaking happening. Of course, I do absolutely hope that I’m proven to be wrong.
As you may have already surmised from my rambling, there isn’t a plentiful bounty of Arsenal news to get my teeth into today. The only real story of note surrounds the egotistical enigma that is Nicklas Bendtner. In a move to rival the Hitlers’ decision to have a child named Adolf in terms of foolishness, Arsenal are prepared to let the self-proclaimed greatest striker in the known universe leave, and he’s confirmed it will be soon:
“I am talking with five or six clubs at the moment over a permanent transfer
“Things are agreed with Arsenal and I will decide which club I sign for in the next two weeks.”
Quite what will happen now is difficult to comprehend. Loosing such a figure of inspiration leaves our club in tatters and facing devastation we may never recover from. Fans will become hopeless, children will stay at home locked away in tearful solitude, and our chances of goals have dropped drastically. I’m personally having immense difficultly typing these words such is the overwhelming feeling of dread and dismay.
In all seriousness, I couldn’t care less that he’s leaving. Bendtner was nothing more than a carthorse, and a spectacularly arrogant one, too. Far be it from me to critique the prowess of a professional footballer, but I’ve seen the Dane misses chance I could have buried without any legs. Or eyes. Or arms. Or functioning faculties. And I wouldn’t have chewed gum with an enormous smile on my face if I did miss them. Or worn any of those fucking silly hats…
He will not be missed by me in the slightest, and I’d seriously question whether there is actually a queue of clubs willing to pay his ludicrous wages. The sooner he’s off our payroll, the better.
I could continue with disparaging remarks and general wittering, but I think I’ll quit whilst I’m ahead and leave today’s post here. The comments await you below, please feel free to share your favourite Nicklas Bendnter moment with everyone. I shall certainly look forward to reading some of those.
Tomorrow morning will bring more fluff ‘n’ stuff. Until then; thanks for reading, you beautiful bastards.