Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

'I may well have peaked.'

 

Two men. Two very different career paths. Here's Spongers regular Dan Forman on a talent who may not have been as wasted as most would lead you to believe.

Nicolas Anelka? Under the beanie hat, is that you on the bench at Celtic Park? I thought you were in China? I thought your career was effectively over, notwithstanding the still-very-large pay cheque. But now you're back? At Juventus? In the Champions League big time live on ITV. How had I missed this news? In my personal fantasy football career I am Nicolas Anelka. And I had thought my personal fantasy football career was over too - because it never contained any kind of pay cheque.

Twelve Days Of A Magic Spongers Christmas

"I was asking YOU if you thought I'D said merry Christmas to YOU!"

With (probably) our last post of 2012, we couldn't help but get in the festive spirit so in time-honoured Spongers fashion, we start off with a rant. Here's our now semi-regular (and brilliant) contributor Dan Forman with his take on 'Twelve Days of Christmas'.

Truly it's been what a Viz version of the Queen's speech might call an anus horribilis for the Premier League. In no particular order other than it features Chelsea quite a lot (which kind of tells its own story) we have had:

• John Terry abusing Anton Ferdinand (and Chelsea's handling thereof); 

• Luis Suarez refusing to shake Patrice Evra’s hand a few months after allegedly abusing him (and Liverpool's handling thereof); 

• The Mark Clattenberg affair (and Chelsea's handling thereof); 

• Roberto Mancini having to back down and pick a player who refused to warm up; 

• John Terry lifting the European Cup; 

• Newcastle's sponsorship deal with Wonga; 

• Ashley Cole defending John Terry in court;

• Arsenal putting their ticket prices up to the highest in the world, only to then not sign one of the best players in the world, but actually sell one;

• Roman Abramovich stripping out the last remaining layer of Chelsea's soul with the sacking of Roberto di Matteo;

From Russia With Little Love Lost

"I am quite good... HONESTLY."

We welcome back Dan Forman (follow him @dannyforman) as he explains how, once upon a time, Andrei Arshavin could have been 'the one'. 

The first time you see them some players you just notice straight away and think wow, they can really, well, for want of a better word, play. The first time I saw Andrei Arshavin was one such experience.

It was at Wembley in September 2007 in a short-lived period when things finally, remarkably, seemed to be going quite well for Steve McClaren's England team. England ran out 3-0 winners and put their qualification campaign for Euro 2008 briefly back on track and Emile Heskey's stock as an international striker back from unpalatable to unplayable (these were strange days indeed).

The Runs #3: Arsenal's Invincibles (and the fundamental nature of humanity)

Some might-have-beens, May 2004

Over to the ever-superb Dan Forman (@dannyforman) for a look at Arsenal's Invincibles and the very fabric of fandom...

What does it say about the mindset of the modern football fan that I felt slightly flat at Highbury on 15 May 2004? My team had just completed an unbeaten league season, an extraordinary sporting accomplishment by any standard. Perhaps it hadn't "sunk in yet". Perhaps it was so unusual that it was too hard to comprehend. But perhaps [insert pompous cod psychoanalysis here], football can never make us truly happy.

Dickheads #13 - Arsene Wenger

What the hell just happened?

Closing this series, it's a welcome back to Magic Spongers for Drew Kearns, on a mission to make you spit your Friday brew all over your keyboard with this tirade about the Professor...

Dickheads. The world is full of them. When confronted with one such being I usually respond by placing them ‘on the list’. And the list is long. Louis Walsh, Daniel O’Donnell, Piers Morgan, H from Steps, George Lucas, Cliff Richard, Kim Bauer are but a few luminaries present. Unfortunately, the world of football is just like the real world and also full of dickheads: Glenn Hoddle, John McGinley, Robbie Savage and Bolton’s Lofty the Lion mascot all rest in the football volume of the list. But one name stands out above them all. Family, friends and people I’ve stood next to in the queue at Tesco will know where I’m heading with this. If there is one thing I hate in football today, it has to be Arsene Wenger, Arsenal manager and luminary dickhead. As the wife pointed out this season while watching the Gunners’ FA cup game against Manchester United: “Not even Spurs fans hate Wenger as much as you do”. This is very true. I shall attempt to explain.

Absolutely Brooking It

A man stands in a field, alone save for the deserted country road behind him and the rolling hills ahead. A dignified man, he looks around to see he is alone. He unzips his flies. He starts to piss. The gentle breeze, which before had rustled the leaves on the trees and had the corn swaying lightly on its stalks, picks up. Much to his chagrin, the wind flares still further and he gets a bit of piss on his trouser legs.

The harder he pisses though, the more the wind whips around him and the wetter his trousers become. Exhausted, he zips himself up. He's covered in piss. Trevor Brooking sighs and makes his way back to his car.

Arsene Around

Let’s start with an analogy. It’s May. The sun periodically breaks rank from the accompanying cloud, illuminating a quaint Yorkshire village in a radiant glow. It is the spring fete: the children are enjoying the rides and games and the adults are gorging on food and ale. Each year, there is one tradition that has been the centrepiece of the fete for generations. A game of skill, not to mention a little chance, which can turn humble men into folk heroes. It is called the Apple Lob. Simply, competitors must stand some 20 yards away from a target, armed with succulent apples they have spent the past year lovingly preparing for this moment. And then they must hit the centre of the target, scoring points in the process. Three points are gained for hitting the smallest target in the very centre of the board. One point is awarded for hitting the larger target circling that.

Wonderful Wilshere Overshadows Familiar Faults

I watched the Emirates Cup this weekend – pretty much the first football I’ve seen since the World Cup and Javier Hernandez / Spain’s Under-19s on YouTube. Despite finding it slightly odd that in a tournament also containing AC Milan and Lyon, Arsenal v Celtic was the match trumpeted as the ‘showcase’ by Sky on Sunday afternoon, it was enjoyable enough. And after all, it’s not like Sky aren’t used to trumpeting ANY fixture as world-beating on a Sunday afternoon.

It wouldn’t be surprising if this tournament was renamed the ‘Jack Wilshere Cup’ next season, such is the little Englishman’s deserved dominance of the headlines after Arsenal’s two matches. Wilshere has two of the qualities missing so desperately from all things to do with English football this summer – confidence and composure. He doesn’t ‘attempt’ cross-field passes, one-touch layoffs, turns and runs through the middle of midfield like so many English midfielders, he just executes them. His first touch is superb.