60 Million Down The Drain, Kai Havertz Scores Again!

Escaping the straitjacket of outdated expectations.

Sometimes, when I’m out with the dog, deep in the forest, I play a game of Ancient Forest Dweller. Maybe it’s reckless to use the words “play” and “game”, too childish perhaps, likely to scare off the reader who imagines themselves to be serious. But there’s nothing frivolous about play. That’s how we learn to be human beings. And I’m still learning.

Stupidly, we’ve infantilised the concept of play, turned it into a diversion, demoted it from the serious cold-sober business of being an adult. But that’s a mistake. As the dog and I morphed into 30,000 year-old mesolithic forest dwellers, running together, booted and bare pawed, breathing hard, a gang of crow’s cawing high above us, spreading their mischief and warning of our presence, I had the glorious insight that to indulge the playful “child” is to give refuge and rejuvenate the bewildered “adult”.

So on our return to the modern day, I wrote this celebration of our emotional Arsenal Family always striving to express the human condition through play, on and off the pitch.

Screen grab from YouTube.

Grey suited late-aged men in media studio’s growl furiously through gritted teeth, there should be less emotion in the game they mutter. Like a travelling troupe of Machismo Messiahs they attribute all the horror’s of modern football (and life) to the dreadful crime of emotionality. Having feelings is bad enough, they reason, but openly displaying those feelings is unforgivable. Being emotional is a weakness that must be quashed or Who. Knows. Where. It. Will. End!

Goals should be scored with a wry grin and a shrug of the shoulders. Yeah, whatever! Nonchalance is preferred on and off the pitch. Fans should keep their (infantile) cheering tendencies in check at least to the end of the match. Then and only then the winner’s should (reluctantly) do a little celebratory click of the heels (once) before remembering that you’ve not yet won the league so put a lid on it! And the loser’s? They get to indulge in the only emotion sanctioned by the Celebration Police; anger. Be angry at the players, the ref, the manager, the tactics, the half-time orange slices (ah the good old days) and then go on to seethe their way through the rest of the week.

Control is the name of the game. These football writers, commentators and pundits demand detached, dispassionate displays of cold blooded indifference at all times. Like all those mid-century cowboy film heroes, players should mosey their way through games, ready to shoot-up the town at the smallest provocation but they should never, ever reveal their, dare I say, feminine side, with any quick draw feelings. Oh no, not feelings!

Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

After the trouncing of Bournemouth by Arsenal a new strand of dismay was revealed by these studio bound emotion stewards. It turns out that even handing the ball to Kai Havertz was a hideous display of thoughtful kindness that surely humiliated the poor man. Imagine displaying emotional intelligence (an oxymoron if ever there was one) and supporting a fellow team mate struggling with low self confidence. Outrageous weakness! Arsenal may have won the game but this team of dangerous empaths ruined the moment with their demonstrative compassion! For crying out loud boys, wry smiles, no more!

OK. Yep. Of course these Machismo Messiahs are straightjacketed by their restricted concept of the acceptable side of the human condition. That’s obvious enough. But they’re also deeply mistaken about the very game they’ve spent a life time watching, playing and presumably loving (although naturally loving in an aggressive and angry way, after all, you don’t want to get accused of loving anything in a warm emotional way!).

Firstly, these purveyors of persnickety passions are deeply mistaken, because for fans, football is essentially a vehicle for experiencing emotion. That’s the whole point of it. Football isn’t really about goals and tactics and skill. Nope, it’s a full-blooded emotional experience, and the last thing we need is less emotion in football. What we need is more!

Now, I’m not coming at ya like some 90’s positivity guru demanding we all ignore half the emotional spectrum and fixate only on a meagre parody of happiness and joy. Let’s not forget football is essentially an evolved form of play. And play is our safe place to indulge in and express negative emotions as well as positive ones. That’s part of its function. Emotional intelligence is developed (and maintained) through investigating and experiencing the whole spectrum of emotional possibilities (something the celebration police would do well to ponder).

Photo by Click and Boo on Unsplash

And if we’re honest, watching football means spending a lot of time in the borderlands of anxiety and tension. The game against Bournemouth isn’t typical. We don’t always roam imperiously through matches to a superb backing track of newly minted fan hits (unless we’re at the Vitality Stadium it seems, where this is now routine). Of course we enjoy the Blissful Flips from agony to euphoria when negative energy erupts into joy: think Man U after they scored, then had the goal disallowed, then we scored and won the game. Boom flip! Without the anxiety and pain there would be no flip. We love the flip. Which means, in a strange way, we love the anxiety and tension too.

And let’s admit that right now the world is complicated. For most of us it’s boring for quite a lot of the time. On top of that, western capitalist nations have devised some truly tedious exploitative working experiences for people. Some of the jobs we’re expected to perform, in order to keep the wolf from the door, seem to have been dreamt up to drive people insane, and only secondarily to fulfil some function or task. If the celebration police really want to tackle some emotions why not the stress, anxiety and worry caused by the precarious bullshit jobs we’re shackled to year in year out?

Photo by Hernan Sanchez on Unsplash

Anyway, what we need is full spectrum emotional escapism on a Saturday at 3pm (funny how parochial that sounds in these digitally connected globalised times, Saturday at 3pm - 4 am more like mate!). The last thing we need is an afternoon writhing around, straitjacketed in some padded room designed by these Machismo Media Messiahs. What we really need is our footballing rollercoaster going full tilt, arms in the air, screaming.

And secondly, the gritted teeth brigade are mistaken about the players themselves. The players are emotional human beings. The maturity and decency shown in an overt display of teamishness (that’s now a word) by handing Havertz the chance to open his Arsenal Account is witness to their emotional beingishness (yes, also now a word).

Besides being emotional beings, they are also consummate professionals with thousands of hours of practice, drills and training behind them. They don’t flutter around considering countless options and weighing up various decisions on the spot only to be flustered by some pesky emotions. In fact, their best moments are when there’s very little decision making actually happening (it’s the same in every other highly specialised creative pastime like playing the piano or writing poetry or improvising anything where you’ve reached expert status). Instead they usually experience flowing unconscious actions that manifest and express those thousands of hours of practice, drills and training. These actions appear spontaneous but, like a well drilled stand-up routine, it’s all the work behind the scenes that counts.

Of course a negative atmosphere can influence the internal flow of a player or a team. Doubt and uncertainty are hard to shake. They get deep into the psyche and set up camp. Which is exactly why Havertz was handed the ball. The team were putting a metaphorical arm around Kai’s shoulders and telling him they believe in him, they’re with him, they trust him. It’s ok dude, you can do it. They were doing exactly what the Machismo Messiahs are so afraid of; spotlighting compassion, hope and love comradeship and vulnerability. You know, like real people do. So when Kai scored and the travelling fans erupted into joyful chanting (for the rest of time) as his team mates bounced about like a stag-night that had just beaten the house, we got exactly what we want as fans. We experienced weightless emotional ecstasy as our footballing rollercoaster crested yet another peak and the mirror-neurons of fraternal togetherness fired throughout the Arsenal Family. Seriously? Less of this? Yeah sure, whatever!

Arsenal were imperious at Bournemouth. Another clean sheet away. Another masterclass in luring a pressing team into their own trap. Another slice and dice of a stretched midfield and scampering defence. And another example of how all this emotion can energise a powerful team that specialises in never to be forgotten fan favourite moments. Another display of almost imperceptible incremental improvements in the team (as Raya’s positioning and confident footwork created a new dimension to the defensive control and Rice’s omnipresence settled everything and everyone). Another first time goal at the Vitality rewarded with another never-ending ear-worm of catchy chanting.

Yes it was another beautiful day on the South Coast for Arsenal and another day of perplexing frustration for the Machismo Messiahs. Next up we’ve got Lens tonight, and then Man City come to the Emirates to try their luck against this thrilling, heart-warming team of emotional maniacs. Buckle-up friends. Hold your breathe. Here we go.

So there you are fellow Gunners. Have an emotional week whilst playing till your heart’s content. Thanks for reading. I truly appreciate it. Now run along and have fun.