Not Today Buddy
What's the point? This is the point!
Arsenal, have suffered an extraordinary run of bad luck. Dr Dre could produce an album with the rhythm of snapping hamstrings we’ve suffered. Practically an entire team on treatment beds and four first teamers have gone under the knife this season. And yet, last night, this team of supposedly second stringers, not match fit walking wounded and young fledgling players all held together by spittle and duct tape, this team dominated the “best team in Europe”!
How do I know Real Madrid are the best team in Europe? Because the commentators couldn’t stop going on and on about it, barely able to contain their sycophantic adoration for Real or conceal their bubbling contempt for Arsenal. Normally I listen to commentary in Swedish or Spanish, both of which have their pro’s and cons, but none of the cons are as bad as the tedious blathering of Clive Tyldesley and his sidekick. Not quite the two blokes in a pub trying to start a fight style of the SKY sports team, more like two bitter pensioners on a sinking cruise liner trying to get in their last digs.
Now you might think this is a strange way to start an article on Arsenal Wonderland. I’m not usually one for airing grievances and pointing fingers. Especially at a time of such glorious victory. But there is rhyme and reason to my seeming harshness. This season has been challenging to say the least. But none of those challenges have come from inside the team, they’ve come from outside.
After the Everton game I seriously asked myself (much like Ian Wright did in his interview with Andrew on Arsecast), what is the point? If the PGMOL are going to demolish the game with an unaccountable bunch of blind back-me-ups and get away with it, week after week, then what is the point? If we’re going to face constant institutional bias from a very English version of prejudice where the gorgeous story of Myles Lewis-Skelly’s rise to the first team is bomb-blasted with comments and attitudes that are, let’s face it, basically racism, what is the point?
And while I’m wondering why I bother, Real Madrid strut into North London with the latest bankrolled Mega-Galactico armoury ready to swipe aside yet another quarter finalist opponent. The writing was apparently on the wall because Clive Tyldesley and his sidekick had graffiti paint cans in each hand spraying their predictions faster than Bansky on acid.
But something entirely different happened. Something that reminded me what the damn point is. Something beautiful. Arsenal refused to buckle under the weight of all the stupidity. Arsenal refused to accept the PGMOL’s version of football. Arsenal refused to concede a millimetre to the narrative zombies. Arsenal came together as a team and as fan base together we faced an entitled opponent and a media industry spewing out cruelty, and we did it with passion and with skill and style and with a poets heart. The Emirates reminded me what the damn point is. The Arsenal players reminded me why I bother and you know what? I haven’t felt so proud in a long time.
Whatever we are facing in this life, and lets be honest, right now in this mad, mad, world we are facing all kinds of unthinkable unimaginables and sickening stupidities, but whatever we are facing in this life, we must never give up before the battle has commenced. We must never accept the narratives of the angry and the powerful and those who want to force their broken version of a world onto us. Instead we stand together and we face our opponents and we tell them in no uncertain terms, not today buddy, not fucking today!!
Next time anyone is telling you to do one thing and you’re facing uncertainty or worry, just place the ball down and take a moment, speak to someone you trust and love and follow your heart. Because just like Declan you know you’ve got it in you to bury that ball into a rippling net, Over and over again.
Next time someone tells you what you are, just smile and ignore the typecasting and release the striker in yourself, like Merino, and score yet another instinctual beauty against the “best” goalkeeper in Europe.
Next time you feel alone and beaten and written-off, put you arms around your family and your friends and those who believe and step up together because together you can face off any foe.
Anyone think we can’t go to the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium next week and show Madrid just what true teamwork can do? Anyone think we can’t go the whole way in this tournament? Come on now, think again, this is The Arsenal we’re talking about.
Man oh man, on days like this I feel so proud to be a Gooner!
Thank you so much for reading (and for your patience over the last few months). Have yourselves a well deserved joyous week and let’s come together again next week to finish the job!
Wasn’t it just joyous Jonathan? I was in sports bar in central Manchester packed With raucous Gooners. Get a load of that for dissonance. And I mean Gooners, with the shirts, the chants-men and women. We might just as well have been at Finsbury Park lol.
And yes screw the narratives. I was strangely calm before the match. I just felt we could turn them over and as we know, when we are in the mood and we want it great things can happen. Just ask City. Next week we need to put in a defensive masterclass and try and Nick a goal. I wouldn’t put it past us to be honest. Thanks for writing: COYG!
Nicely done I felt the same