On Morality

"Immorality: the morality of those who are having a better time”

- Henry Louis Mencken

I've often dismissed Wenger's insistence that Chelsea's riches are immoral. It seemed weak. They always seemed the words of a sore loser.

I didn't see it from his side until recently.

There's this girl, you see. A sweet, lovely, gorgeous girl. I would dearly love to ask her out, but she's nine years younger that me. I cannot. She is too young. It's driving me mad because I cannot make a move, but I cannot. My morals tell me that I cannot.

My morals are willful, inconsistent things. They puff up with self-righteous pride in some circumstances, and fold discretely back into the knapsack in others. They are often inconsiderate to my personal wishes. I often try to ignore them. But once they catch a gust of wind, my sails are full and my course becomes unalterable. I've been trying to think of ways to get around my morals. I cannot emphasize how much I'd love to ask this girl out. But my morals will not allow me.

This girl, however, has other admirers. She's attracting guys who are older, and sleazier and who have no qualms about picking up young girls. It give me indigestion just thinking of the anecdotes she's told. I picture them surrounding her like jackals around a separated baby gazelle. A part of me realises that she likes the attention of those jerks. And a part of me realises that she's attracted to them specifically because they are older and sleazier and push all those rebellious buttons of hers.

When I start thinking this way, I get heartburn.

And out of nowhere, I recollect all those interviews with Wenger repeating those three little words, "it is immoral". It is the phrase of the guy who is frustrated beyond belief as he watches others waltz over and takes the things he covets most. He wants it so badly that he's ready to fight Martin Jol on derby day. But in spite of his intelligence and his talents, he cannot fight back. He's been rendered impotent and feeble. He's been betrayed by his own morals.

To compete against the immorality of Chelsea's "financial doping", Man Utd have bought the Premiership (presumably) and mortgaged their future. Arsenal have earned 3rd place and stayed solvent. One club succumbed to their lusts. One club remained true to their morals.

I'm sure Wenger, on those sleepless nights, thinks of all the players he could've signed if he'd accessed that huge transfer facility. I'm sure he's sworn over and over than next time he's competing with a big club for a talented starlet, he'll sign him "no matter what the cost". But when the time comes to call the agent, he chokes on his words. Why?

Your morals are YOUR morals because you cannot side against them. You cannot bend them, you cannot twist them, you cannot do anything but obey. For better or worse, they are part of you. They are the better part of you. I have to believe that. It's the only thing I can cling to, because when it costs you the things you want most in your life, it's so fucking hard to take. There's no consolation prize for 3rd place. There's no consolation girl for the guy who refrains. This is real life and the consequences of those morals are mind-numbingly painful.

In football, in life, sometimes the only thing that counts is scoring.