By Jonathan Blaustein
Poor Barack Obama. That guy doesn’t get any credit. To listen to the media, you’d think he was Wile E. Coyote. Hopeless, hapless, and shit out of luck.
His hair’s gone gray. His daughters will be dating soon. And I’m sure he can’t get laid without a security guard in the room.
I suppose only history will vindicate the man. Were anyone to be even remotely objective, they’d look at the numbers. The stock market is at an all-time high. Unemployment is down. Gas prices have plummeted. The dollar is at its highest level in more than a decade. The economy grew at 5% in the last quarter, and is forecast to top 3% for 2015. (That’s practically Chinese-level-growth, for an established power.)
All while Europe is in the toilet, Russia is in the tank, and the Asian powers have to worry about crazy Kim Jong Un messing up the neighborhood.
People forget the mess Barack Obama inherited. The world was on the precipice of anarchy, for goodness sake. Mad Max was not seen as a good movie to remake, with dashing Tom Hardy, but a realistic future scenario. People were “this” close to hoarding fresh water.
Fast forward to now, and you’d think that our basketball-playing President would be doing victory laps around the gym. Instead, he just lost Congress, and gets about as much respect as a cockroach in a restaurant kitchen.
Like I said, homeboy gets a raw deal.
Sounds a bit like Arsene Wenger’s situation, if you ask me. The man spends money now, brought in a trophy, managed the move to a beautiful stadium he helped design, shepherded the team to a phase of solid commercial deals, and bought Arsenal the most exciting player many of us have seen in years. (Yes, I mean you, Alexis. You handsome, handsome devil.)
I know the haters are plentiful. He doesn’t do tactics. His players keep getting injured more frequently than Russell Brand bangs groupie-sluts. He can’t zipper his jacket. Hell, even Graham Fucking Norton made a joke about him having a small penis on TV the other day.
So why do I still respect the man? Because he will be vindicated by history. And because I haven’t been a fan as long as you have. I’m the good old voice of reason, and I’m here to remind you that the future looks bright.
We’ve got a solid chance of beating Monaco. And if we do, the winner of Porto and Basel awaits. Not exactly frightening. That means we have the potential to go further in the Champions League than we have in years.
With respect to the Premier League, sure, we’re not winning it this year. But the top 4 seems genuinely likely. Which means AW can strengthen in the summer, bringing in Schneiderlin, Wanyama, Gundogan, or someone of that ilk. Maybe he’ll use his entire summer budget on Paul Pogba? You can’t rule it out.
Throw in the CB we’re about to buy this month, and you’re looking at a team that can compete for anything in 2015-16. (And beyond.)
And don’t forget the FA Cup. Did you see the game against Hull on Sunday? Arsenal haven’t looked that self-assured in months. And we’re due back Arteta, Ramsey, Ozil, Giroud, Welbeck, and eventually Wilshere.
Step back, and the future looks bright. AFC might even have a decent chance at another FA Cup run this year. Chelsea’s veil of impenetrability has been punctured, and City choked the bone in that competition 2 years running. So you never know.
Just think back to May. How did it make you feel? When Ramsey scored that late goal? Jubilant? Telepathic? Sexually Aroused?
Just think back to May. The open-topped bus. With all those guys riding through the streets, soaking up your love and adulation. Did you feel like a little kid? I know the players did.
How do I know?
Because this month’s Matchday Photo of the Month is a throwback. It was sent in this December, just after the shit show at Stoke. Our photographer, Ian Wytiam, even referenced “Joel, get out while you still can” in his email.
In the worst of times, Ian was thinking back to May. He was wistful, hopeful, and a good sport to boot. He was thinking of you guys. He wanted to remind you how recently AW got that big horny gorilla off his back. He wanted you to look ahead, past the Winter blues and blahs.
Just remember, this photo says. Glory awaits. Maybe not this year. But soon. Poor Theo Walcott is watching the road behind him, as he knows he still has 6 months of grueling rehab ahead. Who’d want to look forward to THAT on a day like THIS, his body language implies.
Santi Cazorla, ever the practical one, is wearing a baseball hat to block the sun. Kieran Gibbs is wearing the kind of Ray-Bans that people think are cool, but really aren’t. And there’s no Lukas Podolski in sight. (IMHO, that guy was a goofy one-trick pony. We all love goals, sure, but tracking back is what makes even the idiot-Tony-Gales of the world gush over our lad Alexis.)
Look at those security guards, running next to the bus. They mean business. Because the Premier League is big business, these days. People slag of Arsene everywhere, every day, but he helped make it so. The man gets credit for nothing.
But what do you think about Alexis? Or Calum Chambers? Santi Cazorla? Debuchy? Danny Welbeck? Aaron Ramsey? Mesut Ozil? Olly Giroud, when he’s not losing his mind? Don’t they prove that good old Arsene still knows what he’s doing?
I could be wrong, and lord knows I’m not the expert that many of you are, but from where I’m sitting, at my white kitchen table, looking out at the white snow, covered in rabbit poop, I’m pretty happy with how 2014 turned out. And I believe 2015-7 promises a run that will make us feel special in our cold, dark hearts. (The next few years will make us tingle, like when you pour too much Gold Bond powder on your johnson. Imagine how much Gold Bond poor Shaquille O’Neal must need to cover his monster-sized junk…)
As for the runner’s up, we’ve got three this month.
First off, Sean Thum sent us a photo of the first IRL meeting of the Malaysian Gunners Facebook fan-club. (Taken right after that meathead Skrtel headed in the equalizer for Liverpool.) I might write as an American, as does our fearless leader, Tim, but let’s not forget that loving Arsenal is a global affair. And while I’m freezing my ass off, I bet those guys in Selangor are drinking cold beers and walking home in shorts. Bastards.
Second, this picture came in from Hamza Ade, who took it at a live-cast at the Emirates, during the aforementioned game in Stoke-on-Trent. He actually told his kid that Arsenal won the game, so as not to upset him. Gotta love a good lie, if it means your boy doesn’t cry all the way home.
Finally, I’m throwing in my own abstracted offering, just to inspire you to think outside the box. When I woke up early on a freezing cold morning, getting ready to watch the QPR game on the Ipad, I went outside and looked up at the pink sky. It was so beautiful, I went back for the camera. My nose-hairs practically froze into stalactites, but I persevered, to share a bit of loveliness with you guys.
Happy New Year. Let’s see some pictures after a win next month, fellas. (Or ladies. If you’re out there.)
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