It’s hard to know where to start, isn’t it?
The ridiculousness of the transfer window – and to be fair, of the Arshavin transfer in particular – was laid bare throughout today when the player signed for Arsenal, then didn’t, then flew in, flew out, agreed a fee, disagreed a fee, passed a medical, failed one, agreed personal terms, whistled dixie, picked his nose, sang a sea shanty, played the ukulele and… well… whatever happened, it was and remains just interminable.
We all debated it on Twitter, we refreshed NewsNow like it was going out of fashion and of course, we watched the flibbertigibbet that is Sky Sports News, which was so excited it almost wet itself.
As it stands – six hours after the transfer window slammed shut, however that works – the deal is still ‘on’, but who the chuff knows what that means?
In the old days, Arsenal used to announce deals out of the blue, a comforting production line of long-term deals and undisclosed fees. Perhaps, I accept, doing it that way could be frustrating at times, but give me that approach over this one anyday.
Couple that with the hilarity of what a 6 inches of snow does to London (it was “the right kind of snow, just the wrong kind of quantities” said the mayor, gloriously), and it really has been an odd day.
To recap: half the tubes were damned, they stopped all the buses in London, and at one stage this morning, the mobile networks pretty much packed up and went home too.
Tomorrow’s cup replay was cancelled (snow) and Arsenal’s ‘new’ mobile site ran a story asking us to send our photos of the snow in.
“How about a Gunnersnowrus, Cesc Snowbregas or Alexandra Snow?” it asked.
Who is Alexandra Snow?
I sincerely hope the news on Snowdrei Blizzardshavin is positive. Another day of shilly-shallying and flim-flam will tip me over the edge.
As I walk to work.
In the snow.