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Being an Arsenal fan isn’t a “run-of-the-mill job” – it requires the special melange of a whole lot of grit and the ability to endure some chastening bit of banter as the Gunners set on their path to Premiership glory.
It all generally begins with a notoriously slow start only to be followed up by a mid-season surge, a Christmas time slip-up and a horrendous February made up for with yet more optimism-laden performances right at the back end. It’s a rollercoaster ride, isn’t it?
Below is a poem that takes you on one such ride, offering a fascinating insight into the shattered heart of a Gooner, and the five stages he/she goes through to reach the season’s eventide.
Stage I: League Title an Inevitability
In Arsene we trust, he’s our Le Professeur,
The Arsenal will reign supreme, rule will its grandeur.
For we are the Gunners, who gun for glory,
Injuries? Fatigue? No, we don’t worry.
The Highbury days will return,
Attack after attack, there’ll a riot be run.
Manchester United are rubbish, Manchester City a walk in the park,
Chelsea have got no history, Liverpool a club in the dark.
So watch as Arsenal cruise to the Premiership,
Forget the previous year, it was but a minor blip.
Stage II: Oh Dear, Here We Go Again
It’s the same-old story, we are a bunch of fainéants,
There’s something wrong, are our players all infants?
We couldn’t beat Stoke, Sunderland or Hull,
The defence looks rudderless, the attack dull.
Virtually out of the title race, the season is done,
Can someone please offer some gleam to our setting Sun?
Wenger’s lost the plot, we need Pep or Vieira,
We need a hero who can bring that glorious era.
Stage III: All Hail The Arsenal
Us Gooners could sense it coming, yes, Arsenal are up and running,
Just look at the performances – breathtakingly stunning.
Avant you rivals, make way for the Arsenal,
Chelsea? Manchester United? We’ll finish them in the tunnel.
Catch us if you can, stop us if you can,
We’ll achieve what hasn’t even been thought of by man.
The Premiership now goes only one way,
Give us the title already, why bother to play?
Stage IV: Arsenal are Crap
Our squad is but a group of imbeciles,
We’re miles behind the very best, a million miles.
Let’s protest – this isn’t what we pay for,
They probably don’t realise it’s not a game but a war.
Giroud is useless, Koscielny can’t defend,
They don’t put in an effort, they only pretend.
Watch as we bow out of the Champions League too,
Arsenal are shite, we are afraid that’s true.
Stage V: The Next Season is Ours
We must realise we’re still recovering from a decade of impecuniousness,
Wenger used the season to build a squad, see his stupendousness?
A few world-class buys in the summer and we’ll be fine,
Our list only includes a defender, a pivot and a number nine.
Reborn will be the King, Forza Arsenal it be called,
No one will be spared, not even the charmed.
Let’s get behind those boys and sing the Arsenal morceaus again,
For the league will be ours next season, so this year was worth the pain.
Victoria Concordia Crescit….
