The Lesser of Two Evils

This joke was doing the rounds in the early nineties:

Question: You're on a boat with Saddam Hussein, Hitler and Paul Keating (then Australian treasurer and architect of the "recession we had to have"), and you've only got two bullets. Who do you shoot?

Answer: Paul Keating twice in the head.

My 4th Grade teacher loved that joke. Along with getting us to scout for the cheapest petrol prices in Melbourne, telling politically-biased jokes to impressionable kids was her raison d'etre. But I never really found it that funny. There was something profoundly sad about hating someone so much that you'd choose to whack him instead of two of the greatest villains of the twentieth century. I couldn't work it out, then.

But I'm starting to understand it now.

We're playing Man Utd next. In January, didn't our mouths water at the thought of this match? Arsenal vs Man Utd. The Title Play-Off. The two best sides in the league. Fucking hell, that would've been some match. To emerge from all these seasons of disappointment to come-of-age (for real, this time) at Old Trafford would have been something.

So this Sunday will be a bit of an anti-climax. There's a certain bitterness to it. What are we playing for now? Pride? Respect? An attaboy from the media for putting up a fight against the champions-elect? All I know is when the Arsenal walk onto the pitch, I'll be seeing double. As well as Cesc and co., I'll be seeing the crushed dreams and faded ghosts of yesterday. Remember when Hleb, Cesc, Flamini and Rosicky were irrepressible? Remember when Cesc scored goals from midfield? Remember when Gallas-as-captain was a stroke of genius? I could go on, but I'll stop for the same reason you don't pick at a scab.

The fact is that this match doesn't mean much. I imagine Wenger will make a show of how we're still in the race, and Gallas or Cesc will come out and rally the troops, but I suspect they'll be going through the motions. Our guys will play hard because it's against Man Utd, but half their minds will be on Euro 2008. It's not worth putting your body on the line for a meaningless fixture. And part of me understands.

However, there is one thing we should be playing for - making sure Chelsea don't win the league. I don't know what the logistics of throwing a match are, but it's something I hope Wenger seriously considers. I don't want to see Ashley Cole win the league before us. I don't want to see John Terry and Frank Lampard celebrate. And I'd rather endure a Man Utd double than see Avram Grant succeed.

I doubt any gooner would deny that Man Utd are worthy champions. Yes, they're arrogant. And yes, their success has been bought in much the same way as Chelsea's. But you can't deny that Cristano Ronaldo is the best player in the league, and that he deserves to win the Premiership. And you can't help but admire Ferguson's accomplishment with this side, especially if they win the Champions League as well. He is a very, very good manager, and his team plays very pretty football.

It is profoundly depressing that, after eight months of dreaming a young man's dreams, we're stuck with the role of the spoiler. There's nothing classy about a spoiler. You're the dirty, drunken hobo trying to tackle the bride in her pristine white dress. There's nothing dignified about that.

This Sunday, I don't want us to stop the Man Utd procession. I want us to lose. Yes, I want us to try hard and make a good match, but in the end, I want us to just roll over and die. I'd rather Man Utd retain their lead, their league and their superiority over everyone. I can't believe I wrote that. It's sickening, but true. Because given the choice between Man Utd or Chelsea, I'll choose Man Utd every time.

Anyway, I've finally understood my 4th Grade teacher's joke. In my proverbial boat on the lake, I've got Saddam Hussein, Hitler and Ashley Cole in my sights, and I'm weighing up the cost-benefit of both bullets. Rationally, I should kill Hitler and Saddam and give millions of families some semblance of closure. If there's ever any justification for murder, those two are it.

But in the end, those two bullets are heading straight for Ashley's head.