By Michael Didn’t.
Fear not Buddhist Steve, this will not be that over-optimistic drivelly sort of fayre occasionally served up by that idiot Didit. Stick around, and feast on a dose of harsh reality.
On Sunday morning, in the aftermath of the goal conceded against West Ham, I detected a surge of doom running around my system, and I’m not at all surprised. The result was irrelevant. Conceding an away goal is pathetic, and just highlights the chronic lack of ambition at this Club.
It’s the chronic long sightedness of our Owner, Board and Manager. Nothing is ever about today, and I am a man who lives for today. Instant gratification for me, that’s what I want. As a child, I wanted for nothing, well not for long anyway, as severe tantrums were always rewarded with what I wanted. It is how I developed my “winners” attitude. It was not that my parents were necessarily considerably richer than those of my mates that I always had the latest toys, no, simply my winners mentality and attitude.
I know of many overseas fans who have never been anywhere near an Arsenal game, and I can tell you they are absolutely livid. I used to be a Season Ticket Holder, but not anymore. Oh no. Now I go to the games I think we will win, but I’ll tell you what, if this club doesn’t start showing some real ambition, then I’m not going to go to even more games than I don’t now. Fact.
Just look around.
Remember all those English Stars being snapped up by Utd and Liverpool at perfectly reasonable prices, and what exactly were we doing? I’ll tell you…not spending enough, that’s what. Yip, the likes of Carl Jenkinson, that’s what. Yes, the very same player who had recently been on loan to Eastbourne Town!
Take the case Santi Cazorla, and before some smart arse tells me that Cazorla has goals, assists and irrelevant stats about completed passes, I say look at the cost. Sixteen bloody million pounds. Hardly a signal of positive intent was it? On a similar note, take my favourite manager, Maurinho. There’s a man not afraid to spend other peoples’ cash. £30m on Modric. Pah, and we get to spend sixteen bloody million on a player only just better than Cesc bloody Fabregas. Pathetic, it really is.
Everything is just so unfair.
Please don’t anyone tell me about the returns to action of Jack Wilshere, as it is not relevant to anything, and anyway, don’t you realize how much Wilshere cost?
Act now, I say. Black scarves and Bin Liners. This Saturday.
Written ‘t in c’ by MickyDitIt89