Just What the Hell is Wrong with Arsenal?

emmanuel-eboue.jpg

 Sorry Mum.  Uh, I mean, sorry Arsene.

Okay, this is getting ridiculous, and I don’t even support Arsenal.

Sure, publicly we talk about the Gunners’s depressingly sub-par performance this season as a victory for parity in the Premier League.  Privately though, like for instance this morning over a nice warm cup of coffee for what should have been a romp against Cardiff, we all want Arsenal to get back to its vintage 2004 form when the Arse had players who knew how to sidestep, create chances, score thirty-yard screamers, defend properly, and generally win more than two games in a row.  It’s familiar.  It’s homey.  So what’s with the six month hold-up already?

It’s easy to blame the kids–just ask any divorced parent. But screaming at toddlers can only get you so far. I really do believe that in some alternate universe, Samir Nasri has a use of some sort, perhaps even on a football pitch.  Maybe Alexandre Song is there with him, properly heading a ball away before it drops to the feet of an onrushing forward.  But problem children aside, the malaise at Arsenal goes deeper.

This being football, we’ve all got theories, but only mine is correct.  So, breaking free from the whims of ever-shifting daily opinion, I put all blame squarely on Arsene Wenger.  I know what you’re thinking: he can’t go, he’s got ‘Arsen’ in his name for godssake, we’re never going to find a French, hawk-resembling manager named ‘Garsenal.’  But, you know, like Obama said, things change.  Five years ago Arsenal were top of the league going forty-nine games undefeated.  And five years ago, everyone messaged eachother on Friendster about how the Arcade Fire were totally, totally awesome.  Well, Wenger still thinks the Arcade Fire are totally awesome.  The rest of the Premiership, most notably Manchester United, Liverpool, Chelsea, and Aston Villa, do not.

Arsenal can worry about who they get as manager later, I mean who in the Premier League bothers with that anymore?  The main thing is, get your finger out, let Arsene try his hand at coaching Real Madrid’s gaggle of promising youngsters like Royston Drenthe and, oh man–Sergio Ramos?  Good luck with that!–and everything at Arsenal will magically right itself.  I mean, it did wonders for Chelsea, right?

Right?

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