Truth be told, this loyal Gooner has been very patient.
Bearded, cantankerous and grumpy he may be, but very patient.
Well, until now. But ultimately, the limits have been breached, and sadly, a spade has to be called a spade!! I am truly outraged.
Since the past quarter century or so, we fans have been promised the holy grail of European glory. The lottery ticket has been duly procured every year, only for us to stumble at some or other hurdle. Admittedly, the lottery ticket itself is somewhat valuable, particularly for the countless numpties populating the English League that have not managed to procure a ticket consistently for such a long time. Still, this is no better than a fourth place trophy, really! Such a disaster!
At the same time, the predictable same old stories have continued. Lack of activity in the transfer market, tiring European group stage adventures affecting our chances in the League itself, together with an injury-plagued lion’s share of the season, all contributing towards no better than fourth place trophy! Such a disgrace indeed!
Imagine my joy last season when the so-called pundits and realist doomers proclaimed, finally, that we were not good enough for fourth spot. Finally there was light at the end of the tunnel, a chance to turn our back on Champions League and overturn the permanent saga of fatigue and injury. Finally, then, there would be a chance to win the League this year. In the event, this turned out a blank promise! The light came from an oncoming train that would run us over! Useless doomers! No fourth place trophy, but instead second place! Pray, what good was that! Same old, same old! Such a disaster!
This year, the realists and pundits were at it again. Predictions of doom were duly proclaimed, and gullible me, I even believed them. Finally, we were destined for the lower half of the table. Perfect for a good shot at the title next year; or so it seemed! Particularly, come November, and surely the good guys and their classy manager are going to vanish off into oblivion.
But, as usual, M. Venga had to spoil it all. Take the trip to Old Toilet, for example. It started off nicely, leaving our most productive striker on the bench and inviting our other tall Frenchman to leave his defensive role to populate the ManUre box. Oh, how one would have wished a quick counterattack to then leave us exposed at the back and jettison us out of the top four. That would be a good start. But the wily cruel Venga had to spoil it all. Who asked him to bring EFF (Everyone’s Favourite Frenchman, courtesy chas) on for a final few minutes, against the best advice of the doomers. And then the inevitable happened. The EFF just spoiled all the fun with yet another last minute goal.
How cruel! And such blatant favouritism towards the French. Sadly, we still remain in touch with the leaders. This way we will continue to remain in contention well into the new year. Such a disgrace!
Why, oh why? When can we have the pleasure of a lower half finish for a change? With nothing to focus on except the following season’s league triumph, which will no doubt automatically follow. Alas! All that we fans can do is remain in hope.