And there you have it. A gargantuan monstrosity of a third kit, the worst since the last time we issued a really bad kit design. Pink? What in the name of the mother of all things holy is pink doing in a football kit!?!?!?!? I swear on the Holy Sky Football Yearbook that this is a sign of the increasing licentiousness in the modern game.
Either that or the board has gone full ‘Mad Max’ on us. “Hire a plane? Pah! You can watch the team play in a crap home kit next season”; “Another plane? Let the away kit follow suit”; “My god, you’re gluttons for punishment, aren’t you. Let the Gods of Bad Taste loose on the third kit!”
And when they finished doing that, the Gods of Bad Taste pootled on over here to take over writing the rest of the post.
It’s a shame the kit wasn’t ‘old skool’; yesterday’s training sessions was, as the pictures of Mesut Özil running up the steps of the stand attest. Bouldie, down on the pitch, went into full ‘Ron Manager’ mode, “Jumpers for goalposts! Next goal wins! My ball, my rules!”
The big fella was suddenly in his element, taking control of the boombox, spinning out Shakatak, Shalamar, Level 42 and Luther Vandross to his heart’s content. Every 80s footballer liked that quartet while a decade before they were all ‘into’ The Eagles and Neil Diamond.
The prospect of Peter Storey psyching himself up for a match listening to Cat Stevens is an image you can’t quite shake. Did he rail against hippies and the kids ‘bloody racket’, or glam rock as it became known. Maybe he imagined Billy Bremner as Gary Glitter or Alan Hudson – in his Chelsea days – as Derek out of the Bay City Rollers.
Arsène meanwhile, hopped off his trawler and engaged ‘obtuse’ mode. Arsenal Football Club doesn’t lose trophies, he declared or some such nonsense which sent blood pressures around the globe rising as people reacted to the headlines. Reading his words, they are instantly recognisable as nonsense. Indeed, had Stanley Unwin delivered them, they would have made more sense.
In case you missed them, Wenger noted,
“We want to win trophies but you cannot live inside a club thinking we want to win the next trophy and if you don’t win it then you have lost.”
Which is something I sort of understand, if he was talking about the psychology of the situation and not letting a failure to win trophies get the players all despondent. The sort of mood which makes them not want to renew their contracts, that sort of thing.
But I don’t think he was, as Arsène then lost the plot,
“The club is something bigger than that and has a stronger basis than that.”
Say what? I opened up my Cantona Translation and after I typed in the phrase, it just gave a Gallic shrug of its’ shoulders before shutting down.
A Cunning Plan Is Hatched
After that, he took the pencils out of his nostrils and underwear off his head.
“On a personal level, I want to win every game. When we lose a game I’m absolutely mad and sad, but it is part of being a coach.
“I’ve stayed here for a long time because of the values I hold close to me. One is to win trophies but more importantly it is to know who we are, and what is important to us in the game.
“It is that basis which wins football games and that’s what I will do until the end of my career.”
There’s a joke in there about the value of eight million pounds each year but I can’t be arsed to make it. It’s pre-season and there’s plenty of time left to hone biting wit, one of the values I hold close to me, as it happens.
As you might have guessed, there’s not much else going on. Tomorrow is an 11am kick-off which is proper old skool if it were New Years Day and Spurs the opposition. But it’s not and they’re not so it’s just a pleasant late morning start. Nothing inconvenient like 7am or earlier.