By Sam Diss
Hey, remember when Arsenal were good? I do. Just about.
If you were, say, an Arsenal-supporting thirteen year old – and judging from their social media presence, I’m guessing that there are quite a few pre-pubescents among their following, like a footballing One Direction, each one writing erotic Mesut/Alexis slash-fiction with furious regularity – you would likely not remember.
But the shadows of this once great football team linger over the Emirates with ever alarming spookiness. That the club has managed to sustain such a reputation despite year after year of such intense mediocrity is nothing but a testament to Arsene Wenger – a manager whose mere presence belies a feeling of success when just one trophy in recent years is about as contrary to that opinion as it could get.
In reality, no one could have this much attacking talent at their disposal and still fail to break down a Sunderland backline consisting of John O’Shea and a few regens posted up in front of a swaying six-foot-seven breadstick in goal.
That a team can be so toothless while boasting players like Ramsey, Ozil, Sanchez, Cazorla, Giroud and Walcott is nothing short of a minor miracle. That’s a line-up of attacking talent that one could only describe, with decreasing value, as an “array”, a “smorgasbord” and a “buffet of assists and goals”.
What next for Arsenal? Their status as a team worth caring about seems destined to hang, like a windchime, in the balance. Sure, it sounds nice (REMEMBER WHEN WILSHERE SCORED THAT GOOD/A BIT FLUKEY GOAL AGAINST NORWICH, etc) but when the wind gets strong enough that too falls to the floor.
Arsenal are currently in dire need of regeneration and that can only start with the manager.
As brilliant a manager as Arsene was – and let’s make no bones about it, he is one of the greatest of all time in this sport – he’s become a gangrenous gash that’s been slowly bubbling with infection ever since Fabregas, his dear sweet darling Fabregas, took up his bindle and headed for home, only to return with a flourish to Arsenal’s “neighbours” – a team, in actuality, who are lightyears ahead of Wenger’s slow, monotonous, oft-tortuously dull side in that they actually win things.
If Arsene’s ability wasn’t already dulled, surely his heart is now broken beyond repair – like spotting your ex-girlfriend in a bar with a really, really handsome and rich new bloke. You’d just go home. Arsene needs to go home.
A fish rots from the head, but is it too late for this Arsenal side to be salvaged? Let us know what you think in the comments.
Follow Sam on Twitter, @SamDiss