Progressing Through History

And loving every minute of it

It’s been a while dear reader, since I’ve posted a Wonderland missive. I’ve missed you. The dog has missed you. We’ve been busy in the woods, talking to the crows, the dog and I, and I’ve not found the time to write to you.

But recently, for no reason I can fathom, a number of subscribers have appeared in AW’s world and I’ve felt bad there’s been nothing new to entertain them, or you dear dedicated AW reader.

So here you go. A short but sweet love letter to keep you going, to keep your hopes up and to keep possibilites alive. Hope you’ve missed me :)

Screen grab from Arsenal.com.

They say that those who don’t know the past are condemned to repeat it. There’s deep truth in that statement. Especially if you’re Mikel Arteta. He’s a man who knows the past and has done everything he can to change it.

“It's 27 wins in the Premier League, it's the most in the history of this football club in 130 years. That's not progress, that's history”.

Yes it is. Arteta is making history alright, there’s no doubt about it. This season’s Arsenal stats are even getting members of the Invincible squad to get out the popcorn. Most wins, most goals, most increasingly delirious comparisons ever made: Trossard is the new Ljungberg. Ødegaard has found Bergkamp’s magic boots. Saliba is George Graham’s entire back four rolled into one languid footballing genius. Ben White is the most lovable 1930’s villain ever to time travel.

Arteta is right. History is being made and it’s been a long time in coming. Eras have come and gone while we Arsenal faithful have patiently waited and waited. And waited. And then waited some more until finally, last season the excitement began to return. Our heads began to turn. We started to fall in love with our team in a way we haven’t since King Henry the 14th ruled the Earth (that’s for you Ben ;)

North London started strutting in a way that it hasn’t since…well, since the first half of the Wenger era. Those were the days, when that skinny bespectacled Monsieur Who? arrived and started grabbing pints from the table and replacing them with boiled chicken. When unknown French starlets appeared out of some farmer’s league to reap the harvest of the Premiership. And when a perpetually angry Scottish Manager fielded teams of eleven players and one referee. Oh yes, the days when Manchester United were a team that I could hardly bring myself to mention.

Back then, in the good old days, I absolutely despised Manchester United. I literally couldn’t even watch an interview with Ferguson, Cantona, Keane, Scholes, Giggs, Cole, all of whom haunted my days and tormented my nights. When I close my eyes I can still see Cantona strutting about like a cockerel with a clothes-hanger crammed between his wings. I’ve mellowed since then (although I still can’t bring myself to listen to Neville’s drivelling commentary or watch capitalism’s poster boy Beckham in that documentary, whatever it’s called).

Screen grab from Arsenal.com

The point is, back then United were a bête noire for my newly Frenchified Arsenal in a way that even Spurs never managed. They seemed to cheat through games, Ferguson’s famed hairdryer stretching even time itself as the refs buckled under its force. They were a team that raised the hackles in a way that their Manchester neighbours have never managed. Where United managed to redline my fury, City manage to bring out…mostly bored indifference.

Then Ferguson retired (handing a poison chalice to an unsuspecting David Moyes), and since then United have slowly decayed into the half-hearted team of throughly unlikeable misfits lead by an increasingly delusion string of managers. It’s been a feast of schadenfreudish deliciousness and I wish I could admit to being a better person that I am and not loving it. But I can’t.

It’s strange though, even though they are digging down to discover precisely what is below rock bottom, I still get a special thrill beating them. I still, in a demented Keegaesque kinda “I will love it” way, I still, well, love it. So Sunday was an especially lovable day. Yes, Arsenal are the better team with better results and better players and better kit and better manager and the "prettiest wife at home", sure, but you never know on the day how things will pan out, especially at Old Trafford, so when we took another 3 points and kept our hopes and dreams alive, I loved it!

And now there’s one game left and still a chance for Arteta to make history all over again, even though he already has. Keep your fingers crossed dear reader, and let’s see what happens. But no matter how things pan out this is a sensational season and whatever happens it’s been one of the best I can remember in ages and eras and eons.

I’ll be back wth a season roundup whatever happens, but until then have a wonderful final week of the season fellow gooner’s. It’s good to be back :)