Marseille at the Emirates - Monreal, Ozil

Two things I came away with on Tuesday night:

1. Nacho Monreal is a quality left back who would enhance our defence. He should be the first choice left back for the Arsenal. Would be cruel on Gibbs, but in matches with the big / European teams I would rather have Monreal in the side. 

2. Still trying to understand Mesut Ozil's temperament. He was his usual self up until the penalty miss. Flings off his gloves in disgust and immediately there was an urgency in his running. The assist in the second half was inevitable. Hope to see more of that and possibly goals as well. 

Corner flag (vol 3.2) - Football in 3D - Arsenal vs Southampton at the Emirates - 23Nov13

I left for the stadium 2 hours in advance of the kick off concerned about the London underground work disruptions that was scheduled for the weekend. I checked online and it said that Piccadilly line was all good. Half way through the journey, I heard some mumbling over the intercom that the train would have to stop at Kings Cross and carry no further – regretfully due to underground work disruption. 

Limited in awareness of what options I have, got off at Russell Square thinking it would be easier to catch a cab. I then saw a gooner still in the train. Jumped back in and decided to ask him on how to get to the game. He had heard nothing as he had his earphones plugged in. Another gooner joined the discussion and said we can get to Finsbury Park station through the Victoria line. Followed the guys and walked along hot dog shops lined St. Thomas's Road with all the other fans. 

I still landed up an hour early from kick off - so grabbed a beer, walked right round the stadium, bought programme notes and grabbed another beer. Met the guys at gate H and headed up. The two guys I was with were impressed with the fact that Mrs & Master Wenerd were back in the apartment on my birthday while I was here to spend 90 minutes watching the Arsenal. 

As we settled into our seats, we learnt then that the match start has been delayed by 15 min because of train interruptions. I don't recollect, in the last 10 years of premier league watching, of a game being delayed because of underground work disruption. One of the guys said that this doesn't happen often, so I guess it was just me.

Southampton was quick to demonstrate the organisation and the skill the team possesses. Smart manager they have in Mauricio Pochettino. Solid in midfield with Wanyama majestic with his interceptions and tackles. The right back was also impressive. The 2 English internationals leading the line didn’t do much, which was reassuring as an Arsenal fan. We had good shape and it was good to see the midfield in action live instead of the 2D version on TV. It was fascinating to see how Giroud is such an important part of everything that goes on offensively - he is the leverage for the slingshot that our midfield is today.

A player that I rate was their 'holy goalie' Artur Boruc - great reflexes and instrumental in their outstanding defensive record this season. I had read however that he is prone to be a bit of a nutter. Early on in the game couple of his goal kicks missed everybody and directly reached their manager in the dugout (prompting the comment made by Wenger in his post match conference). I turned to the other 2 guys and said that this guy is a lunatic - and he promptly showed us how. Dribbling in his own box with Giroud on his ass, eventually gets dispossed and Giroud scores. Emirates roared and we were 1 up. 

In the second half we were in control despite them continuing to be solid in midfield. As the clock wound down, I was getting a little nervous with our one goal margin however one could see that the team looked confident and calm. That is something I would never have gleaned if I were watching the game on TV. The back four, goalkeeper and Arteta in the centre were all well linked. Giroud was very good with his defensive headers during their set pieces.

A lot is made these days about pressing hard to win the ball back - but from what I have seen this season, I see Arsenal adopting a different strategy (or possibly the lack of one). The focus is to retain the 4-2-3-1 shape at all times in order to get our attack going at the appropriate time and thereby prepared to allow the opponent with ball time if need be. "Classic" football I reckon, but something that plays to our strengths. That is why the back 5, Flamini / Arteta ahead of the defence and Giroud have been so critical this season – empowering the midfield to be adventurous and hog all the limelight with the goals.

A penalty at the end and it was interesting to see the high fives going around the Arsenal players – again something I would not have caught on TV. Giroud scores to round off a perfect day and a 2-nil score line. "La la lalal la, Giroud..." wafted through the Emirates at the final score line. Was disappointed not to hear Curtis Mayfield's 'Move on up' not screaming through the PA system. 

The few Arsenal fans I know back home, including me, are being extremely cautious in our expectations from this season. I certainly am willing to bide our time and get through each game as it comes. And that is pretty much what I gathered on the tube back to Earls Court from hearing other gooners talking. "We certainly are not the best team in the league, but...”

The obvious determinant of our success will be results in games with the big teams - where I think the focus should be on winning but should be prepared to settle for a draw and not lose at any cost. If we manage to do that, our league position over the early months of 2014 will start to intimidate the other challengers for the league. Cliched point I reckon, but it is as simple as that. "Classic" football demands simple logic.

Tomorrow night and it will be my first excursion into Champions League football. And hope there are no disruptions on the Picadilly line this time. 

Corner flag (vol 3.1) - Flamini is back

Letting go of Flamini in the summer of 2008 was a huge mistake. He left for more money which subsequently came to be understood as the Arsenal summer - your best players left for more money OR more money + homesickness. Whatever. 

I was in Dubai in March of 2009 and I ran into a fellow Arsenal supporter. Who happens to work with Sony who had just hosted the AC Milan team recently. He shrieked a bit, for the benefit of his wife I reckon, while recounting shaking David Beckham's hands. I asked him, "Did you meet Flamini man?"

He said," Of course. Spoke with him for a while. He said that Arsenal means a lot to him, but this is the way of the footballers. And who knows, he said that he could be back with Arsenal at some point in the future".

We left it at that and continued on the margaritas, though I did recount that conversation and remember it 4 years hence. 

And he is back, for commercial reasons that work both ways (and a subject for another conversation), and how. Managed to keep a clean sheet against the neighbours and where my heart was ticking louder than the baby's. 

Such is life.

The Son of Peter

Written in 2006, with a little editing.

_____________________________________________________

 

1. Peter's Son 

Peter's son was born a few months after his father died. The only thing that his father seemed to have left for him, was his exaggerated sense of irony. It was not long before he pursued the reasons behind his father's arrest. It was not revenge he was after, but the underlying foundations of his fathers madness. And, it was not just coincidence when he ran into Yossarian at the railway ticket booking centre.


2. Marissa meets SoP 

Was about noon, and the humidity was killing. After what seemed like eternity, Peter's Son eventually reached the booking counter. There was only an Old man with a young lady friend, in front of Peter's Son who thought: the Old man clearly is not from here, but the young lady friend seemed to be a local. Well, it could be the old man's daughter. But to Peter's Son he didnt seem the type to have a daughter. 

The Old man finally turned around with a ticket in his hand. Peter waited for him to pass by before he stepped up to the counter. 

The Old man said, "Hello.. I am Yossarian and you must be somebody's son?" as he passed by. The Son of Peter replied, "Yes, I am Peter's Son. The Peter who was beheaded at the Speech Corner." Yossarian smiled and said, "I hope its Yew Teo you are going to".

As Peter's Son finally emerged with his ticket, Yossarian and the young lady was waiting for him. Still unsuspecting, Peter's Son smiled at Yossarian. And Yossarian said, "This is Marissa. Please join us, we are also heading to Yew Teo. Its a long journey." 


3. The Son sees stars

Peter's Son could only see stars at the moment. He felt inebriated. It was the.. no cant be, what was it? The only thing he felt was lightness. Free from the fears that always plagued his mind. Fear of the Other Side. Yes, the Other Side. I remember the Other Side. Was the Other Side the reason why he was on the train. SoP looked at the ticket - Yew Teo it said. The state of lightness was slowly fading. His veins started constricting with fear once again. He picked up his wallet which had turned green. The notes seemed to be all right but there was a soiled piece of paper in there - which in large dirty writing said 'Yew Teo - Speech Corner'.


4. M F U 

Marissa Fucked Up.

Even before she settled at her seat, she started reaching for the wallet in her shoulder bag. Smug from her deft manoeuvering a while back, she was glad with her choice: the younger bloke seemed to have the greens. Got it. The Old man had gone down in a heap, and the young dude had succumbed to the smoke routine.

Huh.. what is this? The wallets had all felt the same, but.. this one is mine only.

What goes around, comes around - and in this case, literally so.

A tear rolled down her cheek, as the train sped away from the direction of Yew Teo.

M F U 


5. Unlocking of the Catch 

Yossarin could not understand what had happened, since falling down rather painfully some 20 minutes earlier. Was it an accident? Not sure; considering that his bones were weak at this stage in life, Yossarin decided to continue lying on the platform for a while more. No one approached him to help him get up - so there was no real hurry to retrieve himself.

With his bald head against the hard surface of the platform, Yossarin winced in pain. His eyes were shut and his mind felt numb. In the darkness that surrounded him, he was reminded of what a prostitute (Was it Milos contact?) had told him years ago.

"You dont even look excited... You are destined to live in this bubble that is called the Catch. You will have no way out of it, but it will protect you. From death and all that is mortal. However, there will come a day, when there will be a slimmer of hope of beating the Catch; but through some one else. I dont know how and I dont if it will be good or evil. But, it will have something to do with saving a life.."

Having said that, the lady had collapsed on his lap. Though it never was completely understood, Yossarin found it funny that this lithe hussy knew about his biggest existential concern at that point in time. The Catch. Yossarin remembered the moment vividly; not knowing as to when he would be required to think about it again.

Years later, much after all his family and friends had moved on, Yossarin wondered, "When is it that my time to go will come?" There was never an answer, but then he was made to remember what the lady had told him years back.

Just as Elijah Price had done, Yossarin then commenced his search to save a victim of the Catch. He read every word that every major daily produced on the net. Every newsletter, every magazine and every international journal. He hunted high and low, until he came across the headline "Man convicted for making speech at the Speech Corner" in a far away city.

He moved into top gear once he read that; gathering as much news about Peter as he possibly could. The problem was:Peter was dead. There was nothing he could do about that. But he did feel he was closer than ever to breaking free from the clutches of the Catch.

And that morning, in the sudden rush of events, he had come across this young vivacious girl and this young Son of Peter. Though none of it made apparent sense, he however had that feeling 'that this is it'. However, the relief and ecstacy of discovering SoP, had overtaken his rationality at the moment.

Thats right. It was no accident. Just as he had felt a tug at his trousers, somebody pushed him down with a quick elbow punch on his back. It couldnt have been SoP, as at that moment the young man was at a distance, looking faint and tired all of a sudden. Was it the girl?

He had that womans number in his wallet; he had to call her to find out where they were. Trying hard not to strain himself, as the pain was increasingly unbearable; he reached for his wallet, which was lying next to him. He opened it, but couldnt recognise anything inside. There was nothing much in it. Except a picture of a young bridergroom and his rather innocent looking bride - Peter and his wife.

Old & frail Yossarin, managed a smile. 


6. The Final Stop 

As Peter's Son woke up, the train had stopped. There was no one else in the cabin. Not knowing where he was, he slowly shook himself from what seemed like a long slumber. His joints were hurting and his head throbbing.

He stepped out of the cabin onto the desolate platform. There was not a single soul out there. Was this for real? He never had seen a sight like this before in broad day light. Without breaking into a sweat, he walked to the exit. He saw someone moving in the ticket counter box. He saw an old man rummaging through some papers.

"Which station is this?"

The old man looked more than a touch confused. "Yew Teo", he finally said.

Peter's Son squinted his eyes as the bright sun light infiltrated through to his sunken eyes. He purposefully turned left from Exit A and started walking on the pavement.

There were no vehicles on the road, which was surprising. Not very surprising not to see any people lying by the road though.

SoP kept walking, turning where he thought he ought to. He finally seemed to reaching his destination, he felt. The last left he purposefully took, brought him to this leafy road which seemed like a dead end. Except, that it had a little picket fence right at the end. I need to get to the Other Side. As Peter's Son approached it, he caught this wiff of some ancient smell. He had no clue of what it was, but he seemed to recognise it.

He opened the picket fence and walked in. He saw this loud, decaying signage which said: Speech Corner. SoP rubbed his eyes.

He continued walking through the stone path which twisted and turned around some very old trees. It looked like a delicate little park from once-upon-a-time-ago, but somehow had no relevance in this day and age. It didnt look like anything he had seen in his lifetime - with the overgrown grass and shrubs that looked liked a world map.

He could see a clearing ahead just as the stone path turned into a mud path. He stopped at the edge of the clearing. It was quiet and sultry.

As he looked to his right, he saw a bench at a distance. And there was a man sitting there smoking a ciggarete and speaking to himself. Not knowing what to do, he started walking towards the bench. Maybe to check if the man was alive for real.

From one look, the old man looked like someone he knew. The familiar haunch, the familiar twisted smile.

"You have finally arrived".

Peter's Son knew what he saw. He sat down next to the old man, exercising a rare smile.

"Here, this is for you" the old man said, handing over a finally rolled joint.

"I dont have a light", SoP mumbled.

As he took a drag, the old man turned around and pulled out an old 3-in-1 player. He pulled out a tape from his shirt pocket and plugged it in. Peter's Son pressed the play button.

The sun was finally on its descend. The cool wind had started blowing. Peter's son could hear the world behind him starting into motion once again.

...

Yossarin didnt know if he had heard right.

It was clear, as the strains of "You go back Jack do it again Wheel turnin' 'round and 'round" wafted through.

This is the Final Stop.