Diab(y)olical.

I’ll get this out in the open. I’m dating a girl 10 years my senior. She’s beautiful and nice to talk to, but, she doesn’t know shit about football. She described it as ’22 men chasing a stupid ball’. Worst of all, she calls it ‘soccer’. Yes, I know… It won’t last with her.

I’ll get to the point. I brought her up cuz we were texting each other before the game, before the customary media lockdown during an Arsenal game. 3 minutes into the game, I told her we were (already) 1-0 up. 25 minutes later, we were 4-0, and I told her that she had every bit of my attention. She categorized the game as a ‘sure-win’ game. And then I sent her this:

It’s not easy being a supporter of The Arsenal. They never fail to let you down. But even then, it’s hard not to love this team.

It was all going so well, wasn’t it? 27 minutes gone and 4 goals up, life was suddenly looking good. I could hear the angels sing. There was a touch of class with every pass. Jack, Cesc and Abou orchestrated the midfield. Theo was bursting down the right flank, making Jose Enrique look like a Sunday League reserve player. Arshavin was… well… back. It seemed that whatever Robin would touch, would consequently turn into goals. I read all the happy tweets over on Twitter with a huge smile on my face.

Bacary Sagna > Dani Alves. – By Gnasri8

ROLL ON BARCELONA!

AND IT’S ARSENALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

Barring the Chelsea game at The Emirates, I cannot remember a better first half of football this season.

And then came the second half. The Newcastle players turned it up a notch, or two. Or three. Or fourteen. Joey Barton looked more like his usual self with a vile challenge on Andrey Arshavin. AA23 had his back against Joey, and was about to pull off a skill. Joey Barton rammed into AA23 from behind, and Andrey landed on his back. Not even a foul.

And then came that Diaby moment. Started off with a wretched ball from Squillaci, who’d come on in place of Johan Djourou. Abou was 2 feet away, and still Seb Squillaci couldn’t play a good ball to Abou’s feet. Barton came slamming in, almost snapping Diaby’s leg in two. No foul. Diaby got up and went all WWE on Barton. And then on Nolan. I thought he was being moronic, Abou. Rightly sent off. Replays showed Barton’s disgusting challenge. Then on, it was panic. Sheer, bloody panic.

There was no organization and no more class in the way we played. Cesc didn’t rally the troops like how Tony Adams would. Phil Dowd took charge from then on, awarding a nothing penalty after Kozzer got the ball of Leon Best, who fell over like he’d been shot. Barton slotted it home. Szczesny grabbed the ball, Nolan came over and brought Szczesny down with his right arm over Wojiech’s head. Sending off for Nolan? You wish.

Soon, it was 2-4. Stupid goal to concede. Move on.

Phil Dowd awarded them a penalty again. If the first one was a nothing challenge, the second one was ______ (I’m all out of words). Williamson jumped for the ball, couldn’t get it, decided to twist 180 degrees and to fall and land on his bollocks. Kozzer was baffled. We were stunned. Barton tried a cheeky penalty, almost saved. Heart-in-mouth moments to come up, baby.

Not too sure what happened from then on. It was all a blur. Tiote scored a magical goal with his left foot. Magical. One he’ll never score again. I received texts from everywhere.

I’m gonna kill Barton and Nolan.

Phil Dowd is having a laugh.

**** ***** ********* ********* **** ****** **********!

It was 4-4, the world came crashing down, and I wanted to commit a crime.

Again, not too sure about what happened afters, but I know Robin scored a cracker of a goal but was (rightly) ruled offside.

We were a joke in the second half. It was us against our complacency. I’m not even gonna blame Abou. He’s been on the end of some ridiculous challenges which were leg-breakers, throughout his career. There’s only so much a man can take. I’m only gutted that Abou did not gorge Barton’s eyes out. As for Djourou, still awaiting news. If his season is over, ours might hang in the balance, considering TV5 is out and SS18 will come in.

My man, Sammy (Not his real name, but close enough), famously known as TheSquidBoyLike on Twitter, sent out a tweet last night. It went something like this:

I do think that if we went into the break at 3-0, and scored another early in the second half, it would’ve been game-over.

Excellent thought. That’s the beauty of football, isn’t it? 4-0 up after 27 minutes and we were singing ‘We can see you sneaking out!’. The camera focussed on a particular Magpie fan who yelled out profanities to the players, from way the heck up there, in the upper tier. The other Magpies fans stayed on and cheered on the Newcastle players as they took the field in the second half. Cheered the players with any and every tackle, good or bad, on The Arsenal players. All we needed was a goal in the second half, early in the second half, to shut them up and convince them it was game, set and match. We never got it. Diaby got sent off, Djourou got crocked, and it was downhill from then on.

Jack Wilshere tweeted something about inconsistent refereeing and suffixed it with a #joke hashtag. He deleted the tweet with respect to what happened to Ryan Babel.
But, Jack, the inconsistent performances that you Gunners put in are deteriorating my health. One clogged artery at a time. #joke

Szczesny got in the act as well, sarcastically claiming Dowd had a good game.

My good friend Kajal asked the Twitterverse a disturbing question. IS there ANY decent referee in England? Rhetorical as it may be, there’s one. The youngest referee in the history of the league. Has officiated only the handful of games. Didn’t catch his name, but he officiated the Wolves-United game. Not intimidated by the United thugs. Respect.

We need answers from Arsene and, more importantly, the FA. What was Phil Dowd doing? Will retrospective actions be taken against Barton and Nolan? That second penalty? Do me a favour, love. Phil Dowd tried his best to screw us over. And he succeeded. It’s been 3 times now. Sunderland away, and Sp*rs at home.

Please note, though. I love The Arsenal as much as I did yesterday, if not more. Phil Dowd’s performance tonight couldn’t make me question my love for The Arsenal. Nothing could. My love for the beautiful game of football, however, was questioned. I’ve tried my best to curb all profanities in this post. But really, fuck you, Phil.

Just as we were all contemplating cowering in the corner, slitting our wrists and crying ourselves to sleep, Elokobi and Doyle stepped up. United lost the game, and the attempt to go unbeaten. The angels were singing again. After all, how often do we squander a 4 goal lead, and still end up a point better off?

Though I do think, like Akhil, that if we had won the game, so would’ve United. They were rather relaxed, and in turn, naive, finding out about our result. The Butterfly Effect, if you will.

This is all I have for now, good people. It’s been months, or a year, since I’ve last written, so please forgive any and every mistake.

~ by youbeautyyy on February 6, 2011.