Lots Of FourFourTwo Articles About Cesc

I've been browsing FourFourTwo, and it's remarkable to see how many articles there about Cesc Fabregas. I thought I might share a few with you:

Fabregas Flattered By Xavi Plea - in which Cesc says "thanks, but no thanks" to Xavi's open invitation to join the Barcelona Globetrotters in their mission of world domination and Catalan independence.

Fabregas: Rosicky Is My Best Bud - in which Cesc says that he likes hanging out with Rosicky, playing Playstation and watching movies. And, in what is possibly a tongue-in-cheek dig at Wenger, he hails Rosicky's return as "just like a new signing".

Fabregas: Wenger Is God - in which Cesc says that we fans regard Wenger as God. I take objection to that. I don't think Wenger is the Messiah - I think he's a very naughty boy for not spending our transfer budget.

Fabregas: Arsenal Must Find Ruthless Streak - in which Cesc says that touch and control is vital if we're to beat Blackburn this weekend. I'd add that a continent defence, a world-class DM and an international class goalkeeper would also pretty handy.

Cesc Hails Arshavin and Vermaelen - in which Cesc observes that experienced, quality signings ARE a boon for the team. Let's hope the Arsenal take the logical next step and buy a few more quality experienced players to plug our other gaping holes.

All these articles were written either yesterday or today. In case you're wondering, there's no point to this article, by the way. I'm just bemused that so many headlines have been given over to Cesc Fabregas stories, since posting one big article on Fabregas would've sufficed.

Oh, and after watching bits of the Friday morning Valencia - Genoa Europa Cup match, I've decided that Valencia will be my new second club. They have a great passing style that's played with pace and attacking flair. In many ways, Valencia play football the way that Arsenal want to play. Two of my favourite players, Silva and Villa, play for Valencia. And the Mestella is my favourite football stadium (yes, I liked it better than than the Emirates).

It was a tough decision because it's so tempting to support Barcelona right now; with Barca you're almost guaranteed trophies. Valencia are in the unenviable position. They're the nearly-men of La Liga. They play great football with very little prospect of ever winning anything. They're crippled by a stadium debt and they struggle to hang on to their best players. They're a lot like Arsenal.

I knew there was a reason I liked them so much.

We Want The Davids

This is a much better photo than the one I posted the other day.

It's one of David Villa and David Silva, presumably celebrating a brilliant goal. Scoring brilliant goals and playing breathtaking football is all they do over in Valencia, you know. Over there, they bitch and moan about how it's so boring to see fluid passing and footwork, and 40 yard screamers and dribbles.

Anyway, Valencia's in financial trouble. Serious financial trouble. The kind of financial trouble that Liverpool will soon be mired in, and which will soon consume Man Utd in a hellfire of HBOS-sized proportions. Valencia have to sell their players to try and pay off €450 million. That's a lot of money, and they'll probably have to sell their best players. That means David Villa, David Silva and Raul Albiol will soon be drooled over like a trio of prized heifers at the Royal Melbourne Show.

Your Real Madrids and your Barcelonas are probably going to slink down to Valencia and nab them, but we really should give it a shake. We need the Davids. Can you imagine a midfield of Arshavin, Silva, Fabregas and Nasri, behind a strike force of van Persie and Villa? It'll be more decadent than Marie Antoinette's play farm with the permed woolly sheep.

Wenger should get a mugshot of Villa and Silva and put them up in the Arsenal dressing room. Give the boys something to play for. If we do really well and make 4th place, Wenger will promise to buy Silva and Villa. I'm sure van Persie will perk up at that news. He might even sign a new contract.

We love the Davids, we do.

3-3 at the Mestalla

"Puta! Puta! Puta! Puta!"

- the four stands of the Mestalla last night

It was clearly a dive. 

The Valencia player put out his arm and the Villareal guy went down like he'd been hit with a baseball bat. The referee pointed to the spot, though, and then the crowd started on the above chant. I remember what "putain" means in French, and if it correlates with the Spanish, I have to agree with their sentiments. 

Puta, indeed. 

It would be a cliche to say that it changed the course of the game, but it did. It went from a 3-2 win to Valencia to 3-3 with ten (?) minutes left on the clock. Valencia worked hard for the next five, ten minutes to get the winner, but it wasn't to be. Villareal closed shop, played for a draw, and got it. 

So 3-3 it finished. 

It was a very good game, though. Probably the best I've seen in my time here; it was fast-paced, attacking, real end-to-end stuff. It was like a Premier League game, but with two sides who can pass, dribble and who are committed to aesthetically pleasing football. The passing was polished, the movements were slick, and the players willing to dribble and take on the opposition. It was miles better than anything I saw in Italy, and (sentiment notwithstanding), a better spectacle than the Arsenal flogging a hapless Premier League club. 

If I had to be cruel, I'd say that Valencia deserved it. Every time they gained the lead, they sat back. They were 2-0 up in the first half after dominating possession, and then they conceded a goal in injury time. They lost the lead in the 75th minute, regained it three minutes later, and then sat back again. So something like this was going to happen. 

But it's better to be pleasant than cruel. And it was a very nice game of football. 

On grime

"You look like you've been in a few hostels, but I'll just explain the rules."

- the guy at reception today

I guess I'm finally dirty enough to qualify as a backpacker. 

When I first started this thing, I would walk into a hostel and look at the scruffy, unshaven backpackers with a kind of wary-eyed awe. They looked seasoned, at ease with their surroundings, and above all, dirty. They had a certain kind of worn-in filth that's the result of months of lax hygiene and infrequent showers. I didn't have that kind of grime at the time, and I felt more like a visitor to a zoo than a genuine lodger of hostels. 

I have that dirtiness now. I'm fairly sure of it. The receptionist confirmed it. And today, I had seven hours on a train to contemplate it. There's about 5 millimetres of grime, grease and sweat covering my body. There's an awful funk that comes from my beanie whenever I take it off. And while I take frequent showers, it's probably negated by the necessity of wearing the same set of clothes for weeks on end. 

Sometimes, I feel like I'm the captain of a huge cargo ship of microbiota, and I have a duty to guide my flora to safe harbour. My protozoa, and especially my fungi, have been with me for quite a long time, and I hate to think what'll happen to them once this trip ends. I'll probably miss them when I get back to Australia and have the luxury of shampoo, soap and clean clothes ever day. 

I think I'll go take a shower now.