The Cruellest Month?
It doesn't do to let yourself get riled by things that are said in the media, particularly when they're said about every hack's favorite team, Arsenal. But sometimes you just can't help it. Take the fact that Richard Williams - great writer, but prone to some of the most ludicrous views, witness his infatuation with Mourinho throughout his time at Chelsea - who this morning likens Fabregas's performance last night to Keano's in Turin '99. This was merely the cherry on top of a two day media love-in for Wenger's supposed aesthetic approach to the game.
The superlatives bandied about over this period have got more and ridiculous. The guff won't stop gushing out of every orifice - how Arsenal play the game as it was meant to be played, how beautiful the geometry of their passing is, how more superior and artful is the version of the game practised by the aesthetes of the Emirates to the crude form of the Old Trafford artisans.
Call me bitter, but have the media not noticed this bloke called Paul Scholes who's been operating in the centre of our midfield for over a decade now, playing passes of such an artistic nature that each deserves to come with their own Factory catalogue number? Or his mate, Ryan Giggs who glides around the pitch and plays balls of equally supernatural majesty?
Did anyone notice that, for the second consecutive season, we went to the Emirates and utterly annihalated them, not through bullying but through the verve and artistry of our play? Obviously not. And much as it might be helpful to our own cause if they were to concoct a victory in the Nou Camp, I really hope that Barca demolish them next week.
Anyway rant over. Back to awaiting Berba's apotheosis on Saturday morning and wondering if any statements about Rooney's health emerging from the Carrington Ministry of Misinformation can be trusted.