Gunning for lucky thirteen

Morning.

Tuesday succeeded in bolstering the already impressively bolstered confidence of the team, and it couldn’t have come at a better time with Sunday’s biggun looming ever nearer. Some people are predicting handsome wins while others are more reserved. I fall, as ever, into the latter category. I wouldn’t say I was a pessimist but I am happy to accept that I am a person who habitually sees or anticipates the worst or is disposed to be gloomy.

I’m not gloomy though really – far from it. I mean, how could I be? I merely state that, having won 6-3 and 3-1 there last season in the Milk and FA Cups, we capitulated lamely in the league, 1-4, and that as a result we can’t be too cocksure.

It’s entirely pleasant being an Arsenal fan at the moment, a delicious and stark contrast to our chums up the road, who are now managerless as well as dreadful. To me, it indicates the importance of a stable and supportive board, something we have and have always had.

So with that in mind it’s nice, for the first time in months, to not have to preface every post with something about a takeover. Stan Kroenke, in London to watch a peculiar sport between a team of mammals and a race of humanlike beings of enormous strength and stature, has broadly supported the current lock-down agreement (without ruling out fun and games in the future, mind you). But the quiet from the rotund one makes a change.

Not a huge amount of news this morning: Bendtner is a target for Brum, something that would benefit them but not us. I say keep him and let him fight for his place. He’s a real impact player and there seems little point weakening ourselves for no reason.

And while I’m here, raise a celebratory glass for arseblogger’s 50th arsecast. Top work.

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