Had a relapse last night guys. Beer called, I picked up, but look… I didn’t speak to her for long. It started to get heated, then I said, look babe… we know how this ends. It’s about as predictable as the career of a 15 year old signing from Haiti. Let’s call it a day.
I tapped out of a night early…
OK SO WHAT DO WE HAVE TODAY?
Dinamo Zagreb have said we’re in for Brozovic. What do I know about this guy bar him being tall? Not a lot. He sounds like a playmaker. I think that means there’s a good chance this story is nonsense. He apparently replaced a player who replaced Modric. I like that we’re attacking the Eastern European market, just think we might be better placed buying a player that we need…
… that said. Arsene knows. When you need a striker, he’ll give you a number 10. When you need a centre back, he’ll give you a winger. He moves in mysterious, illogical ways… but as long as he grins, we’ll forgive him. Why? Because that grin looks like he has a plan.
Injury news has Arteta on the continued pile up. Let’s face it people, he’s that Ford Fiesta you’ve had since you were a kid… he’s done 112,000 miles and the cost of insuring him is more than the value he offers. He’ll be off in the summer, no doubt. Diaby should follow him.
The papers keep alluding to Wenger wanting players. My question is this. Why have we not done any business yet? Shouldn’t we be making sure deals are happening on Jan 1st? I find it staggering we’re in Jan and it seems no clearer what the plans are. Wenger seem, once again, to be shooting for the last week of the window to land a bargain. I know they spoke to clubs in December… why nothing happened is beyond me.
It’s a shambles. Wenger dithers. Like my Grandma does when I give her a choice of Peruvian dark roast or Colombian medium roast. Difference is, Wenger dithers for the whole month. Then makes a car crash mistake. Thing is, I thought this might happen… our good players come back, then Wenger starts pondering… could we have enough? Then we’ll have a couple more injuries and a spanking against City… then we’ll hit panic mode.
‘Who is available!’
‘Some guy with a broken back’
‘Arsene, he has a broken back’
‘Arsene, where are your clothes?’
‘CALL ME EMPEROR’
.. still, at least we’re close to landing a 17 year old defensive midfielder. Sweet, young blood. There’s an interesting article by Ducker in The Times today. You won’t be able to read it because you’re not an elite subscription payer like me. So I’m not going to tell you what it’s about. Ok, it’s about football kids getting fucked up by the system when they don’t make it as players. Only 2% of 16 year olds are still playing pro football at 21.
‘More than half of young British footballers whose dreams of a professional career are shattered prematurely suffer clinical levels of psychological distress’
See, this type of situation, though sad, does really hit me as a bit of a first world problem. What about all those kids who wanted to be rock stars, actors and artists? I wanted to work in marketing… ended up working in a cardboard box factory organising deliveries for 5 years. Was it sad? For me, yeah. Did it depress me? No. Have you ever had a 24 stone dispatch manager rub your shoulders post mistakes and say…
‘Pete. Beautiful Pete. It’s not the size of the tack. It’s the power behind the hammer that’s smashing it in’
It’s not nice. But you know what, you get on with it, because that’s life. You don’t have a right to your dreams.
I guess a lot of it comes from a society that treats good footballers like heroes before they’ve achieved anything of note. Schools treated the good sportsmen differently. Parents treat good sportsmen differently. They don’t have to work on their soft skills, because they can kick a ball. They don’t need to worry about being smart or polite, because they might be the next Mesut Ozil. The harsh reality is that at 16 that you might have to slum it on £22k a year working is probably quite harsh. No one cares that you’re a good footballer when you make a typo in a spreadsheet. No one gives you preferential treatment when you’re making the tea…
But that’s life. Deal with it.
I think La Masia is a great way to educate kids because it’s about more than being a footballer. It’s life skills learnt through art (I work in marketing now, so I call sport art…). Being grounded. Learning to work hard. Educating yourself. It’s the same in Germany. No flashy cars. No superstar status. Football is important, but it’s not the be all and end all.
Simple fact is anyone who has a dream is going to be affected when that dream isn’t realised. Dreams wouldn’t be dreams if you weren’t disappointed when they failed to come to something.
Don’t fret though, Paul from dispatch is always there for you, open arms…
That’s me done for the day. Big love x
P.S. There is no picture online of Dick Law. Man of mystery. Yet every January, there’s always a story that leaks of him heading off to a land far away to land a teenager. WHO LEAKS THESE STORIES. I’m barely sure he’s a real person. He’s like Keyser Soze. Or my imaginary girlfriend who is ignoring me again.