Typical, eh. I decide to pop out for a couple of days, thinking no big news will happen, then Thierry Henry makes his presence felt in Prague, and before you can say boo to a goose he’s our top scorer of all time and everyone’s heaping him with (well earned) praise. Thanks Thierry, you’re a marvellous footballer and we’re oh-so lucky to be able to (pay to) watch you play week-in, week-out. That means in my stint as a season ticket holder I’ll have seen numbers one and two in our hotshots list score most of their goals.
The man of the moment is quoted this morning as being unhappy etc etc, but his comments are not wide of the ones most Arsenal fans have been making, so I don’t think he can be blamed for saying, “Some clubs have international players sitting on the bench and in the stands, but we don’t have that and it’s frustrating.” He wants Arsenal to strengthen – you don’t even have to read between the lines to work that one out – so fair play to him; he’s our captain, he cares about the team.
The good news tomorrow is that Henry appears to have come through Tuesday unscathed, and will surely start. The bad news, as if you need reminding, is that there’s a queue snaking round London Colney for the treatment room, with Reyes (bruised rib), Campbell (hamstring), Ljungberg (hamstring), Cole (busted foot) and Hleb (busted knee) barging each other in the corridor outside Gary Lewin’s room for access to his bag of Deep Heat and Strepsils (the only two medications that fix things, apart from the magic sponge).
Here in my part of north London the rain is coming down in sheets, but tomorrow we may be luckier. When it rains at Highbury, and if the wind is coming whistling in from the West Stand, the roof may as well not be there. It’s like sitting in a dishwasher (at least, that’s what I imagine it’s like, as I obviously haven’t sat in a dishwasher before).