Blogger: #14
At the very core of a football supporter, there is but one emotion: hope. Hope drives the season ticket holder at Coventry to renew for another season. Hope drives the average Indian supporter to stay up till 3 am to watch his team get steamrolled. To a casual observer, the answer is simple. Why not pick the team that's winning? Why not just switch? Toward that casual observer I direct a glare that burns and freezes all at once, and I ask why not disown your father for a richer benefactor? A football club is a place where you feel you belong. Maybe not with your fellow fans. But when your team loses, you lose. When they win, you win. It is one of the finest examples of a human's ability to give without expecting anything in return. For years, Arsenal has been the master of my mood. How well they do, nay, we do, affects my outlook on life. It may seem hard to believe, but I identify myself more as an Arsenal fan than as an Indian, or as a left handed dude who likes death metal, or as a really bad writer.
Season after season, we all come back hoping things will be better. You lose hope, you lose your club.
Of course, logic tempers expectations. Sure, no Saints fan thought they'd win the league or finish in the top 4 when they were on the crest of a wave of fine form early on in the season, but surely, there was just a tiny murmur of what if, wasn't there? When Arsenal got turned over 4-0 by Milan, I stayed up for the second leg. I knew we wouldn't overturn the deficit, I didn't EXPECT to qualify, but I sure did hope so. There's a line, and that line has been giving me the red carpet treatment all season, whispering in a husky, silvery voice to cross it. What line you ask? The line between hope and expectation, what did you think?
This season, for the first time since 2009-10 personally speaking, has Arsenal flirted with that line. I never gave up hope. No, Sir. Even after the 8-2 hiding, I harboured hopes of a stirring comeback to win the title. Did I expect us to? That's where, I'm afraid, I must shake my head. All season long, I have been playing down expectations, wary of the heartbreaks that I've endured. Wary, that there will be heartbreaks to come. But this team is different, you know? They know how to fight. There's steel. There's doggedness. This isn't a silky Arsenal that makes me swoon and sweeps me off my feet only to leave me stranded after a wild night that seems like a distant dream. This is a steady, functional Arsenal that leaves me with a glowing satisfied feeling whose face I know I'll see when I wake up in the morning. Yes, I chose to use that analogy fully knowing what it sounds like, sue me. But I held firm, telling myself it wasn't to last. That we'd crumble, like we always did. I thought so after the Villa game, we went on a ten match winning run. When United beat us, we rose up again. When City huffed and puffed and blew our house down, we responded with 20 points from a possible 24. Despite myself, hope was beginning to crystallize into expectation. I told myself fatigue would set in. That we'd lose our legs. That injuries would take their toll. I didn't want it to, but hey, you can't knock logic.
And then, Liverpool happened. Now, every defeat had some positives up to this point. United was a tight affair, the City game was marred by poor officiating, and I felt we did turn up. But at Anfield, we took the cannon and pointed it footwards. Five times. Those tiny crystals of expectation were killed in the womb, so to speak. Ozil, Giroud, Cazorla, had they not come up with the answers every single time by hook or by crook? Sagna, Mertesacker, Koscielny, hadn't they stymied most attacks that faced them? Had both failed, didn't Szczesny ensure we remained in the hunt? This wasn't the Arsenal I knew. Yet, it was the Arsenal I knew. The old Arsenal, that defended like a bunch of headless chickens. That played into the hands of the opposition. That looked like falling down made it scared of getting up again.
At this point, I must apologize for what seems like a pointless ramble. It was my intention to evaluate our chances post the Liverpool and United games. I intended it to be an objective analysis, however, I feel it would be better to do my feelings justice. After all, it is through this game, that most people like me experience emotions nobler than hunger or thirst or the relief one gets after, well, relieving oneself. The United game is one I always watch in a haze. An almost obsessive desire to defeat Robin van Persie clouds any rational thought that comes my way. Yet, this time, I wasn't expecting or hoping for a win. A point would be good, I felt, though I knew we could beat this United side. There was rebuilding to be done. The battle had to be compromised to salvage the war. And compromise we did. Never being too adventurous, never leaving ourselves too open. Sure, that can be looked upon as negativity, but that feeling was something else wasn't it? The feeling that bigger things needed to be looked after than a solitary game. That's something I haven't felt in a while. The question now is, have we done enough to salvage the war? We are, after all, only a point behind the leaders. But I look back, and I see Liverpool a mere 3 points off us, and with a heavy heart I must admit, I think it is more likely we'll be lugged into a top 4 dogfight. The squad is thin, we haven't strengthened when we could, and I fear this is as far as our title challenge goes. Yet, that feeling remains from the United game, like the aftertaste in your mouth when you use too much toothpaste. That the United game was a necessity. That beating them at their weakest wasn't quite as important as the task at hand. Logic dismisses my feeling though. Logic tells me to see us slip into a top 4 struggle. Logic tells me to look to next season.
But, it is a wondrous ability of humans to abandon logic as and when they choose. There comes a point, when as a fan, you just throw statistics out of the window, along with rationale and whatnot, and just back your team to the hilt. The United game turned out to be that point for me. They've been proving me wrong all season, they can prove me wrong again, right? Right?
It is an uphill task. It is unlikely, to the point of being fanciful. In all likelihood, come May, I will be reading about our ninth successive season without a trophy. But, hey, what can you do, eh? After all, if I don't back us, who will?
Arsenal haven't convinced a lot of people quite yet. But what I've not realized up to this point is that they don't need to. We've played up to this point without crystallizing hope into expectation. The odds are stacked against us and hope isn't going to be enough. But tell you what, when transformed, it gives you a fighting chance. Transformed into what, you ask? Belief. This team, and its fans need to believe. We've hit a blip, we've got to respond. And we're not going to be doing that without believing we can.
Cynical about it? Well, a wise man once said, "If you do not believe you can do it, you have no chance at all."
Arsenal fans would do well to remember who that wise man is.
Think you know who it is? Why don't you tell us in a comment? No negative points for guesses either. It's free guys, give it a shot.
Thanking you,
Yours sincerely,
#14
At the very core of a football supporter, there is but one emotion: hope. Hope drives the season ticket holder at Coventry to renew for another season. Hope drives the average Indian supporter to stay up till 3 am to watch his team get steamrolled. To a casual observer, the answer is simple. Why not pick the team that's winning? Why not just switch? Toward that casual observer I direct a glare that burns and freezes all at once, and I ask why not disown your father for a richer benefactor? A football club is a place where you feel you belong. Maybe not with your fellow fans. But when your team loses, you lose. When they win, you win. It is one of the finest examples of a human's ability to give without expecting anything in return. For years, Arsenal has been the master of my mood. How well they do, nay, we do, affects my outlook on life. It may seem hard to believe, but I identify myself more as an Arsenal fan than as an Indian, or as a left handed dude who likes death metal, or as a really bad writer.
Season after season, we all come back hoping things will be better. You lose hope, you lose your club.
Of course, logic tempers expectations. Sure, no Saints fan thought they'd win the league or finish in the top 4 when they were on the crest of a wave of fine form early on in the season, but surely, there was just a tiny murmur of what if, wasn't there? When Arsenal got turned over 4-0 by Milan, I stayed up for the second leg. I knew we wouldn't overturn the deficit, I didn't EXPECT to qualify, but I sure did hope so. There's a line, and that line has been giving me the red carpet treatment all season, whispering in a husky, silvery voice to cross it. What line you ask? The line between hope and expectation, what did you think?
This season, for the first time since 2009-10 personally speaking, has Arsenal flirted with that line. I never gave up hope. No, Sir. Even after the 8-2 hiding, I harboured hopes of a stirring comeback to win the title. Did I expect us to? That's where, I'm afraid, I must shake my head. All season long, I have been playing down expectations, wary of the heartbreaks that I've endured. Wary, that there will be heartbreaks to come. But this team is different, you know? They know how to fight. There's steel. There's doggedness. This isn't a silky Arsenal that makes me swoon and sweeps me off my feet only to leave me stranded after a wild night that seems like a distant dream. This is a steady, functional Arsenal that leaves me with a glowing satisfied feeling whose face I know I'll see when I wake up in the morning. Yes, I chose to use that analogy fully knowing what it sounds like, sue me. But I held firm, telling myself it wasn't to last. That we'd crumble, like we always did. I thought so after the Villa game, we went on a ten match winning run. When United beat us, we rose up again. When City huffed and puffed and blew our house down, we responded with 20 points from a possible 24. Despite myself, hope was beginning to crystallize into expectation. I told myself fatigue would set in. That we'd lose our legs. That injuries would take their toll. I didn't want it to, but hey, you can't knock logic.
And then, Liverpool happened. Now, every defeat had some positives up to this point. United was a tight affair, the City game was marred by poor officiating, and I felt we did turn up. But at Anfield, we took the cannon and pointed it footwards. Five times. Those tiny crystals of expectation were killed in the womb, so to speak. Ozil, Giroud, Cazorla, had they not come up with the answers every single time by hook or by crook? Sagna, Mertesacker, Koscielny, hadn't they stymied most attacks that faced them? Had both failed, didn't Szczesny ensure we remained in the hunt? This wasn't the Arsenal I knew. Yet, it was the Arsenal I knew. The old Arsenal, that defended like a bunch of headless chickens. That played into the hands of the opposition. That looked like falling down made it scared of getting up again.
At this point, I must apologize for what seems like a pointless ramble. It was my intention to evaluate our chances post the Liverpool and United games. I intended it to be an objective analysis, however, I feel it would be better to do my feelings justice. After all, it is through this game, that most people like me experience emotions nobler than hunger or thirst or the relief one gets after, well, relieving oneself. The United game is one I always watch in a haze. An almost obsessive desire to defeat Robin van Persie clouds any rational thought that comes my way. Yet, this time, I wasn't expecting or hoping for a win. A point would be good, I felt, though I knew we could beat this United side. There was rebuilding to be done. The battle had to be compromised to salvage the war. And compromise we did. Never being too adventurous, never leaving ourselves too open. Sure, that can be looked upon as negativity, but that feeling was something else wasn't it? The feeling that bigger things needed to be looked after than a solitary game. That's something I haven't felt in a while. The question now is, have we done enough to salvage the war? We are, after all, only a point behind the leaders. But I look back, and I see Liverpool a mere 3 points off us, and with a heavy heart I must admit, I think it is more likely we'll be lugged into a top 4 dogfight. The squad is thin, we haven't strengthened when we could, and I fear this is as far as our title challenge goes. Yet, that feeling remains from the United game, like the aftertaste in your mouth when you use too much toothpaste. That the United game was a necessity. That beating them at their weakest wasn't quite as important as the task at hand. Logic dismisses my feeling though. Logic tells me to see us slip into a top 4 struggle. Logic tells me to look to next season.
But, it is a wondrous ability of humans to abandon logic as and when they choose. There comes a point, when as a fan, you just throw statistics out of the window, along with rationale and whatnot, and just back your team to the hilt. The United game turned out to be that point for me. They've been proving me wrong all season, they can prove me wrong again, right? Right?
It is an uphill task. It is unlikely, to the point of being fanciful. In all likelihood, come May, I will be reading about our ninth successive season without a trophy. But, hey, what can you do, eh? After all, if I don't back us, who will?
Arsenal haven't convinced a lot of people quite yet. But what I've not realized up to this point is that they don't need to. We've played up to this point without crystallizing hope into expectation. The odds are stacked against us and hope isn't going to be enough. But tell you what, when transformed, it gives you a fighting chance. Transformed into what, you ask? Belief. This team, and its fans need to believe. We've hit a blip, we've got to respond. And we're not going to be doing that without believing we can.
Cynical about it? Well, a wise man once said, "If you do not believe you can do it, you have no chance at all."
Arsenal fans would do well to remember who that wise man is.
Think you know who it is? Why don't you tell us in a comment? No negative points for guesses either. It's free guys, give it a shot.
Thanking you,
Yours sincerely,
#14
Its Arsene, and yes I still hope
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, we don't have any prizes to give away, but well done, and that's the spirit!
Deletegreat and true words. As a gunner fan myself , you have truly spoken for all of us
ReplyDeleteThank you very much indeed.
Delete