Good morning good morning.
Now I’ve been a season ticket holder for eleven years now, and I reckon I’ve missed on average over that period of time no more than four home games a season – Milk Cup notwithstanding, which I got my fingers burnt attending once. (Did I ever tell you about that? It was against some Midlands club or other, it was 1-1 and heading for a replay, so I slid off early, and got home to discover that replays had been disposed of, it had gone to extra time and we’d won 4-1 with the last 30 minutes notable by their sparkling attacking football. But I digress). Anyway, my truancy level is not bad at all.
Unforch, for one reason or another, today I will be bumping that average upwards ever so slightly. On the basis that every game’s a goodun, except those against Bolton, then it’s a shame.
Fortunately for me, unlike them, I’ve not banned the BBC so I’ll have to catch the action later. No pressure lads, but anything less than a win and I’ll be in a stinker of a mood for the whole of the rest of the weekend. So as I say, no pressure.
I think it’ll be another fascinating game too. With a week’s break and the return of van Persie and Henry, we’ve got to be looking for an early goal to open the play up. Henry’s recommendation is that we use the width of the pitch, but mine is that we score more goals than we concede. It’s a philosophy I have always urged adopting.
As we know, Thursday marks 10 years of Wenger at the club, and what a milestone it will be. Evidently, we Arsenal fans are infinitely more sentimental about it than the man himself is.
“What is important is Sheffield United and if everyone could forget I have been here 10 years, I would be happy.”
Sorry fella, but we’re not forgetting it – perhaps something to do with the attacking philosophy you have instilled into our side. Possibly the four FA Cups, three league titles, two European finals, one unbeaten season, also have something to do with it, as might a new stadium and training ground, and indeed I expect somewhere along the line there were some partridges in pear trees.
I’ve been saying it for years, but the man needs a statue.
Come on you Rip-Roaring-Reds!