Morning Glory

All your dreams are made

When you're chained to the mirror to the razor blade

Today's the day that all the world will see...

- Morning Glory, Oasis

So, we're not getting Appiah. 

It's a bit deflating, that. It's even more deflating when you're hoping Appiah is the one who'll bring balance to the Arsenal. I was hoping for someone of a bit more renown, but I was willing to settle for Appiah. I was willing to settle for anyone. 

But now, there's no one.

Still, no point getting annoyed about it. It's not raining in Manchester. It's the third day in a row that hasn't rained. So it's going to be a good day. Just got to figure out what to do until Saturday, and Arsenal vs Blackburn. I'm looking forward to my first away match. It'll be interesting. I can't believe how no one here knows how to get to Blackburn. It's like the black hole of the north-west. 

If Nasri's out, probably Walcott and Eboue on the flanks. If Nasri's in, then Eboue on the right. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully not, but then Le Boss loves Eboue like I love fried food - we both know it's not good for us, but we can't help going back. 

Manchester is a pretty city. I was walking along the canals in south, under these enormous railway arches. There's something really impressive with brutally large architecture. It's not like modern skyscrapers which, although tall, are built on a human scale. When you're looking at a former garment factory, a newspaper print house or a railway line, you know that these buildings were built to accommodate machines, not humans. And walking amongst them is like entering a giant's world. 

I wonder if I should get a MacBook. 

I hate Manchester

Fooking Walcott! He's too fooking weak, the bastard! Weak fooking Arsenal bastard!

- the Mancs at the bar, moments before the first of Walcott's three goals

I hate Manchester.

It's not a personal thing. I actually think the city's remarkably pretty - it's all red brick and glass and steel. It's an amazing rejuvenation of a city of the Industrial Revolution. The architecture is really well done. The city's small enough to walk around in, and big enough to contain everything you'd want. The pubs and bars and clubs are, according to those in the know, well good.

It's just that Manchester is where Man Utd come from. There's something decidedly sinister about being in the Red Devil's city, like I'm invading foreign territory or something. It's stupid, because I'm not normally partisan. I'd like to believe that I'm a football fan before an Arsenal fan, and that I can appreciate great football on any level. I admire Man Utd's skill, pace and tenacity. And I consider Ferguson to be a great manager.

One of my objectives in this Grand Tour of mine was to visit the homes of all the great football clubs in the world. Man Utd's one of them. But when I was leafing through the brochure for a tour of Old Trafford, I felt a horrible twisting sensation in my gut, and I couldn't do it. I didn't want to step into Man Utd's home ground. It just felt wrong.

Theo came of age last night. Three goals in a 4-1 victory against Croatia. Bloody brilliant. All three were absolutely clinical, and watching the last goal was like watching Theirry Henry again. Theo's a natural finisher - maybe the one we've been waiting for. Maybe he's the one who'll provide the goals from midfield this year. Maybe we can win it this year. Maybe.

I love Theo Walcott.

And as luck would have it, I'm only minutes away from Blackburn, where we're playing on Saturday. Might pop over to Ewood Park to see the Arsenal. I'm sure there'll be tickets available.