We need to ask the right questions

"We have to ask ourselves the right questions, do we want to be a good team or to win trophies? To win trophies, we have to be the best and that is what we are trying to do now.”

- Gael Clichy, asking questions

It’s an interesting way of thinking about it. Do we want to be a good team, or do we want to win trophies? If it’s the former, we haven’t been a very good team for a very long time now. We haven’t had the heart, the determination, the tactical nous or a physical presence to be a good team. If it’s the latter, I’m not sure we’ve have “winning trophies” as our major goal for a long time, either. We have the money to spend on signings, but we’d rather reinvest on extending our existing players’ contracts. We’ve been concentrating on giving the current crop sufficient experience to handle a Premier League challenge.

So for the past few seasons, the answer to both questions is a resounding “no”.

There are a few more pertinent questions I think we should ask. Where the f$%# is the backup central defender / defensive midfielder that we lack? Where the h#@$ is the reliable goalkeeper that we’ve been missing for four years? Why the c#$% haven’t we gone all out to buy those two players earlier in the transfer season, to give them time to settle in the squad? Why don’t we sign a f$%ing defensive coach to drill our team in defensive tactics? Can’t we f$%$ing learn from the mistakes of the past five years?

I’ve been waiting for five years for Arsene Wenger to address those questions. They haven’t been addressed so far, and unless they are, I can’t see us turning into a good team, nor us mounting a legitimate title challenge. If we don’t address these questions, we’re just going around in circles.

Clichy’s right - we need to start asking the right questions.

So on the 267th last day of my 20s, I went to my grand-uncle’s 100th birthday and spent most of it wishing I was still having lunch with the GOMD (and other people). She’s gorgeous and lovely, and being in her company is like a sweet narcotic which leaves you wanting more. I was weighing up whether it would’ve been worth the hassle if I blew off the birthday and spent another hour or so with her. I’m still wondering if I made the right decision.

Spent a lot of my grand-uncle’s 100th walking around my baby nephew. He’s at an age where he crawls quite quickly, and has an interest in the underside of chairs and tables and people’s feet. Cute little thing.

My nephew’s 1st birthday

"He likes you.”

- my brother, telling me that my nephew likes me

It’s nice to know that my nephew likes me. It’s hard to tell sometimes because he’s only one, and can’t talk beyond words like “Ma”, “Ba” and “car”. He smiles sometimes when I hold him, and he laughs occasionally when I try to make him laugh. Beyond that, there’s not a lot else to go on. I’m glad he likes me, though, because I love him to bits.

I think Wenger should sign my nephew. He kind of did a Cryuff turn today. His mother was holding him up, and he was kicking a plush football. He stepped on the ball with his left foot, rolled it forward, and rolled it back, and then flicked it to me - with the outside of his foot. Now, I realise that he’ll have to improve before he’s good enough to play for the Arsenal (I doubt he could displace Denilson this season), but he’s a very talented baby. Sign him now, bring him over to the Colney creche, and in 19 years’ time he’ll be in the Arsenal first team, a naturalised POM, and agonising between playing for the awesome Socceroos and the inept Ingerlanders.

So on the 268th last day of my 20s, I gave my nephew George a bright green Brazil futsal ball for his 1st birthday. I hope the shiny green paint is neither drool-soluble nor toxic, because he likes to chew his footballs. And I hope he uses it when he’s older and able to walk.

I suppose I’m projecting a great deal with this gift. I want him to be a sporty, co-ordinated kind of kid. I want him to be as freely expressive as the Brazilians of the 1970 and 1982 World Cups. I want him to be successful, and articulate, and able to create and appreciates things of great beauty. I want him to be able to wear loud, canary-yellow tops and be able to pull it off with aplomb. I guess I just want him to express the philosophy of jogo bonito through all the days of his life.

Happy birthday, George.

The 273rd last day of my 20s

“He’d be in the top 1 percent of babies in terms of football skills.”

- me, to my brother, about my nephew George

Sometimes, my brother holds his son up and we play kick-to-kick. When I kick it at him, his eyes focus intently on the ball until it reaches his feet, and on a good day, he can kick it back a couple of feet. He already knows the principles of presenting, controlling and passing that the Dutch system is famed for. He can even do a lairy sort of flick step-over that I’m trying to iron out of his game until he’s gotten better at the basics.

It’s not bad for a 1 year old baby who can’t walk.

Sometimes, I look at George and I marvel that his potential is unlimited... within reason. Of course, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll play for Arsenal (Wenger has a problem with Australians, it seems), or have the technical skills to play for a top-class continental club unless he’s scouted early by an Ajax or a Barcelona and taught how to play properly. But if he really wanted to, he could probably carve out a career as a mediocre midfielder in a suburban weekend league. And that’ll be awesome in its own right.

And you know, there’s no harm in dreaming that he’ll one day run out at the Emirates in a red shirt with white sleeves...

So on the 273rd last day of my 20s, I’m feeling the days trickle past like sand through an hourglass, and I suppose, so too are the days of our lives. Worked today, ate a lot, came home and mucked about on the internet. I had a look at my entry on the 364th last day of my 20s, when I was still panicky and motivated about the fleetingness of youth. And I start to think that I should be doing a bit more in my last year than I’ve done at present.

Cesc's great conversation with Wenger

"It was probably the greatest conversation I have had with someone in my life. I respect him so much. He told me to concentrate on my football and the World Cup and he will deal with whatever happens in my future."

- Cesc Fabregas, about a talk he had with Arsene Wenger

I've been lucky enough to have been in the middle of a few great conversations before. As a rule, they tend to be cathartic, visceral and you always leave with your view of the world subtly altered. While you're in one of these conversations, you feel as if nothing else in the world matters except you, the other person and the train of thought that's linking the both of you together.

I suppose Cesc Fabregas had one of those with Arsene Wenger the other day. It's not up to us to speculate what it was about, although I doubt it was to debate how many angels can dance on the head of a pin (the two options being a finite or an infinite number), or to debate what is the point of defence when you've an Almunia in front of goal. Cesc seems like a thoroughly pragmatic fellow, and at the moment there's only one pressing question when it comes to Cesc and Arsenal.

Cesc also had this to say:

"It's not up to me any more. It's just now about Arsenal and whoever it has to be and that's it. I don't want to say anything else. I just want to be focused for the World Cup because it's the most important thing. The rest, the future, I'm not interested in the future. The only important thing is to form part of this team and play in the World Cup. When I play it's always to win and help my team-mates. I will give everything to help Spain be champions."

Some bloggers have interpreted this to say that Cesc isn't going to Barcelona this year. I'm not sure. It just means that Cesc is leaving it up to Wenger, and focusing on the World Cup. If Cesc really wants to play for Barcelona this year, I'm sure Wenger would let him. Wenger's not a guy who holds players against their will. I presume Wenger told him that if he really wanted to leave, he'd let him leave when Barcelona offer a fair price.

This is supported, weirdly enough, by Peter Hill-Wood. Normally, I wouldn't trust anything Hill-Wood has to say, but this sounds trustworthy:

"It is our policy that we give the manager a transfer budget, which includes the ability to use all the money from player sales. Absolutely. He will get the money no matter how much we got from selling a player. Fabregas might stay, he might go, I have no idea, and have no intention of making any comment on the subject."

It sounds an awful lot like a chairman of the board distancing himself from the responsibility of being the one letting Cesc Fabregas go. What he's saying is that ultimately, the decision (and repercussions) belongs to Wenger, and not to blame the board if and when Cesc goes. It's the typical cowardly comment we've come to expect from this bunch of chaps who hide behind Wenger's coattails.

However, I'd like to point out to Hill-Wood that if he has no intention of making a comment on Cesc to Barcelona, he should stay on gardening leave instead of talking to every fucking footballing media outlet he can find. Fronting up to the media to say "no comment" is a pretty big comment in itself.

So on the 331st last day of my 20s, I went for a run, came home and tried to teach my nephew to crawl, went to work, and then caught up with a friend for dinner. It's his first week of work in about 8 months, and he's understandably knackered. Saw Prince of Persia with him afterwards.

It was put to me by my nurse today that asking the girl of my dreams out on for a weeknight dinner was a bit forward. I was surprised - I tend to use weeknight dinners as catch-up time with people after work - but she told me it was a red banner date time. So I suppose it's not that surprising the girl of my dreams said she was "busy". Should've started with something smaller, I suppose, like coffee on a weekend afternoon or just random late-night calls. Oh, well... I should've done a lot of things, but then again, fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

My nephew's almost ready to crawl. He can pivot around on his stomach. He can push up on all fours for up to five seconds. If he's really motivated (i.e. when he wants chew on the edge of the rug) he can kind of shuffle/drag himself forward, but it's unreliable - half the time, he pushes himself backwards. It's really exciting. Can't wait to see him finally do it.

The 346th last day of my 20s

There's not a lot of Arsenal news going on, is there?

I'm a bit tired to do a post-season review, and besides, I think I did one a while back. I don't really see the point of doing another one, since it would be a carbon-copy of last year's one: good in the beginning, "unexpected" injuries to key players, mid-season lull, end of season revival, finishing 3rd or 4th with the promise that our young players are "ready to step up" next season.

If we get the right players, then there will be change. If we get the right coaching personnel, or if we start coaching defence, then there will be change. But if we keep going on this youth policy without tweaking the side, we're going to be in the exact same position in 12 months' time.

It's a bit annoying.

So on the 346th last day of my 20s, I woke up, played a bit with my baby nephew, went to work, spent an hour in a staff meeting wondering at the pettiness that workplace interactions can inspire, had dinner with a mate and came home. Found out that this mate's best friend is the girl of my dreams' ex-boyfriend. Getting information from him was like trying to squeeze blood out of a stone, though.

My nephew's growing up so quickly. He's almost ready to crawl. He can get on all fours for a couple of seconds. He can wiggle around on his belly like a polar-fleece clad caterpillar. He's so close to putting it all together, and he knows it. There's this look of intense concentration when I put things just a couple of inches out of his reach, and he's striving to get them. Maybe this week, maybe the next... and then my little nephew will be just that little bit more independent, just a little bit more ready for the big, bad world.

I realise I'm phoning in a lot of posts these days, but that's the monotony of life, isn't it? Stuff happens in its own sweet time.

Even my nephew can't roll over like the Arsenal

My nephew George learned to roll over last week. It's a big landmark for a baby. It's the very first step towards independent locomotion and freedom. It opens up a bigger world for him; life is no longer the polarising dichotomy of "up" and "down" - there is now a left and a right as well. 

All in all, it's very exciting. 

Watching him roll over the other night made me realise what an incredible tricky thing it is. My sister-in-law lay him on his stomach at first, and propped him up on his arms. Then he started to topple over on his side. He looked like he was doing it easy, but then he got stuck as he lay on his side. He started kicking out a bit to flop over, but couldn't manage it. He looked a bit like a turtle stuck on its back. 

I've been assured that he's rolled over three times already, but it's still obviously a little tricky for him. He hasn't got the knack of twisting his hips with his back muscles. But he's young, and he'll learn in time. Rolling over is natural part of the human condition. And if he needs inspiration with regards to rolling over, he's got the Arsenal as potential role-models. 

Even my nephew can't roll over like the Arsenal. 

We lost again last night. 3-0 to Man City, who comprehensively out-played our youngsters. When you add this to the 1-4 defeat to Chelsea over the weekend, and the 0-1 defeat to Sunderland last week, it's pretty depressing. Nobody rolls overs like the Arsenal on a losing streak. Not only does our first 11 not show up at matches; even our reserve players are starting to not show up. 

Where to from here? 

Well, the glaring deficiencies that were apparent at the start of the season are all still there. We still don't give a fuck about defending. We still don't prepare for set-pieces. We still don't have a strong squad. We still have a lot of young players who fold in pressure situations and who don't have the guidance on the pitch that they deserve. 

What's going to happen to fix the problem?

We're going to get a new striker in January. Other than that, not much. Arsene Wenger believes in developing a squad in a natural way, which to him means not buying the players we need and not coaching defences. So we just let our player develop naturally.

Just like my nephew George, we're going to get a lot of practise rolling over.