90 minutes of boredom plus
added time. That’s all the Happy One needed to sit pretty secure at the helm of
the richest premier league in the world last Saturday. To be honest, the only thing worth
writing home about that match was that Oscar assist that yielded the goal and
sent Manchester United on a wild goose chase for the remainder of the night.
Maybe it’s because I was glued to our own labour at the Wembley.
I did keep my promise to the Devils (albeit
until the 75th minute. After that, I knew a draw would only spell
doom and gloom for we Gooners). I found myself celebrating with them on the bonoko goal they thought they had scored
early into the game. I myself (oh bite me! This is not an English essay
assignment)...I myself was surprised at how genuinely I wanted the Devils to
take the three points. I foolishly believed that my beloved Arsenal had a
chance at the big one if the Devils held the Blues progress but alas, who has
ever trusted the devil and come out victorious anyway?
I had taken the foolishness a notch higher
and thought that my beloved Arsenal would follow in the heels of the Man U win
and also scoop three whole points from the blues come Sunday. To bring the blue carcass home, the little
mongrels at mid and bottom table would also take points (or a point) here and
there and deny Mourinho the Happiness he came looking for in the Queens land.
Well, I am well reminded and corrected that
Mourinho is not your average SAF or Wenger or Pellegrini or Brendan Rogers. He
does not simply whip his horse all the way to the home stretch and then let the
second or third jockey cross the finish line first.
I am
also well reminded, albeit incorrectly that the opium I was high on when
writing the previous post SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE must have gotten to the wrong
part of my brain. Blame the opium on my producer and fellow Gooner, baba T.
Well, I also blame it on love. You see,
love makes you do foolish things. It clogs your judgement and prevents you from
thinking straight. My love for Arsenal led me to all that error of judgement
last week. It made me hop into bed with our enemy and yielded no results.
This post is a reality check. It will be
devoid of influences from Love and Other
Drugs.
Tyranny
of Numbers
Numbers rarely lie. If I’m to invoke the little
statistics knowledge between my ears, then the custodians of the trophy must
already be in the market place looking for some blue ribbons and the engraver
is already perfecting the curve on the C.
They need 6 points from 6 remaining matches to be crowned. That means
Mourinho can pick a point from each of the matches and still mount the top podium.
He can close the chapter with two consecutive wins then sleep through the other
four. Whichever way you want to look at it, the odds are greatly in his favour.
My goon loyalty is in no question but I’m
not expecting much at the Emirates on Sunday. The prof. Is quite optimistic
with his current victory run but hey, it is home bound Chelsea we are talking
about. The Happy One will bulldoze through, no doubt about it.
I wish I was a
magician but that’s not what I promised at the top on this post. I promised to
be a realist. If I were to put any money anywhere, I would not put it where my mouth
will be on Sunday, I would put it where Mourinho is...
The
Pride Battle
Having waved the EPL trophy bye-bye, the
pride battle now remains between us and the Devils. A battle for position two.
There is no fundamental difference between finishing at position two or three
but if you are a Gooner or a Devil, you know it means the world to finish on
top of each other (stay out of the gutter please).
The gods of football were
well aware of this and they ensured that this pride battle would be decided the
second last match when the two rivals meet. They already have the first half
from Emirates. We really need to whip them at Trafford...
History
Beckons at the Wembley
It was not a walk in the park as had
earlier predicted but thanks to our golden boy Sanchez, we shall be going for a
place in history at the Wembley. It took 120 minutes to dismiss Reading but
that’s now water under the bridge.
I’m
sure baba George, the Duke of Cambridge, will be in the VIP stands to cheer his
club to victory but it will require more than royalty to stop the Gunners
from a successful FA defence.
#ThisThingWeAreTaking. I would have
preferred Liverpool as these smaller teams can be a real pain in the nether but
hey, Aston Villa, bring it on...
ION
One of these fine days, there will be more
cameras directed towards the dugout area than towards the pitch. There seems to
be more drama from the big five managers when they meet than from their
teams...
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| Keep your midget hands of my Ralph Suit |
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| Come here you portuguese dwarf |
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| Get your tall french @$& outta here |
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| there! Nimegusa. |
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| #%%^&&*3#$@ @ #$#$%^& |
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| Knock it off you two |
