Beef Bagel

So, we lost. We did, didn’t we? I’ve only just finished watching the game from the comfort LB’s parents’ place in the west of England - so west in fact that is has become Welsh - but I’m not sure the last 90 minutes has sunk in as yet. The problem is, though, that maybe it has. I was disappointed to upset when the whistle blew and somehow we’d failed to found the equaliser that would have left us all quite content. I am not, however, gutted and I want to be. I want to be inconsolable like when England went out to Argentina in ‘98. I remember my non-football appreciating girlfriend at the time saying everything short of, “it’s only a game.” I’m no wife-beater but she would’ve felt my knuckles across her cheek before the last word left her soon to be toothless mouth. Like, I say, I’d never consciously hit a woman but there’s a medically proven reflex reaction, like the knee-jerk, that affects football supporters.

There’s a few problems at work here. Firstly, we didn’t expect to win. Most Spurs I’ve spoken to this week seemed to feel that a draw would be a good result. If you don’t expect much, you don’t end up disappointed. It’s not the world’s healthiest or most positive of attitudes but the record books do point in that direction and many of us would’ve died of a broken heart if we didn’t protect ourselves every now and then.

Secondly, it’s only a league game. arsenal aside, this was simply a game against a Big Four club and an away game at that. We do not expect to be picking up points in these encounters and to come out with nothing is certainly no disaster. Of course, the other point is that we’ve just drawn arsenal in the League Cup - is it still called the Carling Cup, I’m getting bored, I want a new sponsor - and it’s not like it’s game, set and match for this year. If we go out against Woolwich Wanderers in that competition, then I’ll be upset, reserves or otherwise; it makes no difference.

Thirdly, and this was something that really hit me as I saw substitute Adel Taarabt share a laugh with Adebayor at the end, the players just don’t hate each other enough. I’m not a violent man - I seem to be protesting this a lot today; doesn’t bode well - but I want to see blood at a derby. I want to see players kicking chunks out of one another. I want to see Huddlestone and Chimbondabonda take Rosicsky by the arms, pull them from their sockets and start chewing on his biceps in front of the horrified, weeping Czech, who’s going to have quite some difficulty wiping his tears. I want to see the Tottenham midgets, Little Aaron, Steeeeeeeve and the Little Yiddo, overcome Adebayor as he falls to the ground under their combined weight, Jermain drinking from his neck. I want it to matter to them like it does to us.

For some theirs enough history. You could see the Yiddo having a few choice words with Flamini after he took down a screaming Clichy on the touch line. Keano seems to feel it for as much hatred as the friendly Irishman has in his body. Gutted to see him miss from the spot. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him miss a pen. He’s one of the best there is. I doubt it would have made much difference to the result. The trouble with teams like arsenal, and Chelsea for that matter, is they play much better when they need to. How often have we gone ahead and then just watch them step it up? How well did we have to play for the last half hour if our famous victory last season when Chelsea realised they were about to be beaten? If we were going to get a result today we were going to have to do it late.

So, yes. Keano and the Yiddo aside, there’s not enough grudge and certainly not from the arsenal players. With Lehman out the team, there’s no one left to hate. Gallas can fuck off, I suppose but otherwise, well none of them are smug enough. There’s not too much arrogance or well, personality going on there. Where are our hate figures? I try to dislike Hleb but he’s just so bloody vanilla. Eboue seems to be coming through as the resident cheating filth-bag but he’s as yet to transgress against us.

The encounter on the whole was somewhat of a disappointment. L’arsenal deserved the win. The didn’t play that well and neither did we. Sure, we were missing a few of our stars but I think they always would have won. Something quite startling hit me when I watched them play and I thought back to much of their season. There’s no a whole lot of individual brilliance about they do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that many of them have a great deal of trickery to their game but this rarefied style of Wenger play - purer still than the days of Pires, Henry & Co. - seems to account little for one man’s genius to get by another. arsenal do not need to do this any more. They have stepped beyond the need. They are that much faster and that much more organised than most other teams they play that they simply pass their way around their opposition and it’s slightly sad. I want to watch players flick the ball up, get cocky, attempt the rare and impossible as much as I want to watch a well oiled team but perhaps this is all superfluous to success? Perhaps Wenger has removed this impurity from his sides and has finally perfected his formula of football? Every move must be one touch and everything must flow and if this really is where football is heading then we do we get the joys of watching a player like Jay Jay Okocha? Would a player like Bergkamp still make Arsene’s shopping list?

The reason it made The Bagel sad is because does this mean for success we need to put an end to Lennon’s mazy runs, Keano’s impossi-goals and Berbatov and his Hollywood touches? Maybe arsenal just had a particularly off day. Maybe they take the piss out of teams when they can. It hurts when Henry looks absolutely world class, when he scores a goal in a moment of genius that you couldn’t even imagine and he runs along the crowd winding you up as he goes. But at least he does it with personality. At least you can love to hate it. The real problem is that when we do beat the scum I fear that no one will really care; not us, not them because the passion from the derby may have disintegrated.

I should be keeping to regular posting throughout the festive period. It’s as much of a chance to take a break from the family and food as it is for the pure pleasure and I advise you to use your reading of it in much the same way. “Yeah, um, I’d love to clear up right now but there’s some really important work I’ve got to read. I won’t be long. What’s that you say? Ah yeah, that would be great. Two sugars, oh and have you got any biscuits?”

Mind the roads getting home or wherever Christmas takes you.

Hey. If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I’d like Frank Shirley, my boss, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where’s the bagel?

The Bagel.

This entry was posted on Saturday, December 22nd, 2007 at 5:29 pm and is filed under Bagel News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.