It has been a funny week for Monsieur Wenger. A week ago his team of lovely boys somehow beat Barcelona. The Catalans arrived at the Emirates as the “greatest team the world has ever seen”. They brought with them the mercurial Lionel Messi, who despite scoring more than a goal a game this season was only considered to be the second best player in the world by the UK media. Having said that, he was behind the wonderous Gareth Bale, the man who starred in “Planet of the Apes” and has this season set world football alight… after he managed to escape from Rafael da Silva’s back pocket. Bale has not only scored a hat trick, in a game Spurs lost, he has also found a cure for AIDS, halted third world famine and cut Jedwards quiff.
Despite giving Arsenal the kind of battering that would terrify a cod, Barca only managed to head off at half time with a 1-goal lead. As the game wore on, the master tactician and ghekko lookalike Arsene Wenger began to weave his magic. His lovely boys somehow contrived to win the game 2-1 and send the media into overdrive. World order in football had been redressed. Arsenal were now the best team in the world and Mr Bale had been relegated down to third in the player stakes. Jack Wilshere took his crown and Dobbin van Horsie was installed as the new No 2. Gooners all over the country (well, London) rejoiced as it was now clear that Arsene had been plotting this for years; he told them that his boys would one day be rampant and his prophecy had been fulfilled. Talksport was jammed by delirious Gooners laying claim to all four trophies, with the “world class” Wilshere driving them on. “If we can just keep Van Horsie fit” was their watch word. Good fucking luck with that one. Dobbin is already injured, suffering from a detached eyelid after a particularly heavy nights sleep.
As quickly as they were heralded, they were rumbled. On the following Saturday they made the short trip to Brisbane road, home of Leyton Orient, for what should have been a simple game. Ghekko man made the customary changes and sent his lovely boys out to secure a quarter-final berth. But hold on a minute, this wasn’t like the midweek game. They weren’t playing a team of diminutive hispanics, knocking the ball around in pretty triangles with perfectly gelled hair. This was a proper game at an intimidating little ground and the opposition were employing a strategy that the lovely boys hadn’t seen in mid-week tackling. Although Arsenal took the lead, they never looked comfortable and worryingly Orient snatched a late equaliser. Worrying because the winner travels to Old Trafford in the next round and on recent form Orient might prove more of a concern against United than Arsenal given the battle royale against Crawley.
Lucky old Liverpool had the weekend off. For some reason they haven’t had a Champions League fixture either during the past week. To fill his spare time between consulting his office furniture, Kenneth took Andy Carroll out for the night. Where better to take Ladyboy’s replacement than a Boyzone concert? In an attempt to encourage some striker bonding, Kenneth also invited Suarez, but the toothy South American was unable to get his vast gnashers into Kenny’s car. Strange choice of concert you might think, it was actually Carroll’s. He had some specially adapted lyrics for hatstand Kenny:
“Don’t love me for fun Ken,
Let me be the one Ken,
Love me for the season,
Let this season be love.”
Huge drama enveloped Tottenham’s first game in the knockout stages of the Champions League. Spurs were expected to get thrashed as the “one man” in their one-man team was left at home, to forage for nuts and berries. With the exception of Jose’s Inter, the Italian teams have been poo in Europe for a while, and Spurs deservedly ran out 1-0 winners. The excitement though was all generated by Gattuso. The hairy midget was already getting a bit giddy when he decided he should “put the frighteners” on Joe Jordan. Sadly the only other person to attempt this was Joe’s dentist and look at how that panned out. Gattuso is a fairy character who sometimes lets his aggresion spill over, but surely even he should have thought twice before “headbutting” a senior citizen. Transpose that scene onto the streets and you have a tattooed ASBO-wielding benefit cheat assaulting a pensioner, guilty only of shouting his mouth off while under the influence. San Siro and Merseyside, not that diffferent after all.