'Tis the season and all so settle in for some Christmas inspired ridiculousness. First up is our man Mesut. His arrival signaled a sea change in our transfer policy and confirmed that dry powder does indeed explode spectacularly.
The
first Özil
That
the Arsenal did see
Was
the perfect control of a ball down the wing
From
the wing he played, with just the right weight
Many weren't overly familiar with the true quality of Arsenal's diminutive star signing in the 2012 summer transfer window. Cheekily, even the manager claimed he wasn't. But shortly after Santi Cazorla arrived in North London his class was immediately apparent. It took no time whatsoever for the little Spaniard to click with Arsene Wenger's footballing philosophy, while it took supporters quite a bit longer to figure out just which was his favored foot.
Cazorla's capture represented a kind of return to the Arsenal manager's early transfer style, that of finding technically gifted players who, for one reason or another, were misfits at their clubs. In this case he swooped when Malaga were in desperate need of cash. The move was also consistent with the recent shift to bring in players entering their peaks, with the experience and maturity the side lacked for several years.
Being way before my [and frankly many current Gooners’] time,
Cliff Bastin is a player I know only through biographies and written
accounts. Admittedly I washed up on the shores of the island Arsenal a bit later
than many do in life, but I did so just at the moment when Ian Wright was in the
closing stages of his relentless pursuit of Bastin’s 58 year old record as
Arsenal’s all-time top goal scorer. Televised coverage was spare at best in the
States those days, but I vividly recall Red Geezer’s account of
Wrighty’s mastery of that record.
As you do, or at least as obsessive collector personalities
such as myself do, I wanted to become familiar with the player Ian Wright had
just surpassed. The key points are relatively well known, even if they suggest
some interesting parallels with the contemporary version of Arsenal. Herbert
Chapman took a chance in 1929 on a 17 year old Exeter boy who showed promise
and technique, spending a fair amount to do so. Two thousand pounds was a big
sum to spend on someone in that era, particularly an unproven teenager with
only a handful of first team appearances.
Chapman played Bastin out wide as a winger, with the directive
to cut inside from the touchline on the diagonal to receive passes from the
central part of the pitch. As now, this was counterintuitive to the typical use
of the wing-play in English football; nonetheless Bastin profited handsomely.
In a short space of time he became the target man for Arsenal attacks and would
remain the focal point until Ted Drake’s arrival in 1934.
The Boy Bastin was renowned for his deadly finishing and
because of Chapman’s tactical innovation was unusually prolific for a winger in
that era. In total he collected 5 league titles and 2 FA Cups over an nine
year span, only twice ending a season without a trophy in that period. While
the first Arsenal FA Cup was won while he was just bedding in during his first season, the second came towards the end of his prolific years and he was
instrumental in its capture. Bastin scored 6 goals in the run to the 1936 FA
Cup final, including the solitary goal* in the 1-0 semi-final defeat of Grimsby town.
A leg injury stalled his career after Arsenal’s fifth league
title-winning season in 1938, and it was further cut short by the advent of
World War II. His increasing deafness prevented his participation in the
war, and with the suspension of league play the war prevented his career from
going much further. Bastin’s best football all came before age 27, scoring an
astonishing 178 goals in 395 games. To put that into context, Ian Wright
was 27 when he arrived at the club.
In the process of working this drawing I kept going back to
the details that I enjoyed drawing the most: meaty forearms that suggest a less
pampered lifestyle than today’s megastars. A severely parted hairstyle, paired
with a goofy grin that belies the swagger of his popped collar and his head
cocked to the side. He looks to have been a real character, and I’m looking
forward to getting my hands on a copy of Cliff
Bastin Remembers to find out still more about this Arsenal legend.
*I
imagine it’s down to the language of the era, but I found the commentator’s
account of this goal rather charming, “[Bastin] caught the Grimsby defender out for once and
tapped it home.” Sounds like a simple
poacher’s goal but in reality he runs onto a pass at the top of the area and slots it past the rushing keeper with every bit of coolness we have seen so many times
from Thierry Henry.
Even though, as @LittleDutchVA recently pointed out, yellow kits aren't the traditional away strip many believe them to be, there is just something about that color combination that gets us all excited. Worth a ridiculous chant no?
It is a well-known fact that Carl Jenkinson comes from a family of Gooners and as such he has perhaps taken on a bit of a cult status with the Arsenal support. Alan Davies just might have a hand in that by dubbing him The Corporal. Earlier this season the Arseblogger unknowingly set up a hilarious scenario for the pre-Olymiakos press conference with this tweet. I remembered how last season we endured that spell without a first choice full-back on either flank, and of course that inspired a ridiculous chant. I hasn't caught on yet for some stupid reason.
The most striking component of the
Invincibles side [no pun intended] was their collective attacking ability,
representing the epitome of Arsene Wenger’s footballing philosophy: score first
and ask questions later. Although not quite held to the same high regard, there
was a much-vaunted resilience in that Arsenal team that became a hallmark as
well. While Wenger has managed to achieve some similarly breathtaking attacking
play since then, we have all witnessed a massive decline in that latter
quality.
There is an all too familiar scenario:
a tough road trip after a grueling run of games against the likes of United,
Chelsea, and Liverpool, traveling ‘up norf’ to play on a less than ideal pitch,
towards the end of a long and difficult season. It is the kind of cocktail that
would mean almost certain defeat to recent squads. In 2004, it was the kind of
game that threatened the unbeaten run.
These days you just about cannot turn around without someone
reminding you how long it has been since Arsenal last lifted silver. Just
recently as I took in a match down at the Factory with the NY Gooners, we had
the misfortune of having to stand next to a bunch of Chavs watching their
match. But it was the one against Southampton, so we had the good fortune of
watching them lose that match. Early
doors, TJ made a joke about Torres’ face-mask, then started be-bopping
and skatting all over it. One of the Chavs took umbrage and asked how many trophies
we had.
Historically the Arsenal sit third in terms of league titles at 13,
since you asked. And the last one, as long ago as it may seem to some narrow
minded twits, is made of gold. There’s only one such trophy in the history of
the Premier League, and it’s ours by virtue of competing for an entire season
without losing a single match. That we did so against the likes of commercial
behemoth United and oil-daddy funded Chelsea, makes that gold shine just that
much brighter. That we did it just a year after Wenger was lampooned for
claiming we could do it, even more so. Deserves a chant no? The color and winning
the league in May ties in nicely with “She Wore A Yellow Ribbon.”
We won,
We won,
We won a golden trophy
We won a golden trophy in the merry month of May
And when
They asked
Why was the trophy golden
We said it’s for the Arsenal ‘cos we never lost a game
In honor of Freddie's return to Twitter I'm posting this classic. It should be said, there's nothing ridiculous at all about this one. This is Gooner gospel. Continuing on the theme of boozy, throatily sung la-la's from the last Ridiculous Chant, this one mixes up the order to make perhaps the best intro of any player song.
There's nothing like the build up of the da-da's and hitting maximum volume on the first "We love you Freddie." NY Gooners added another verse when his billboard popped up in Times Square. To quote the man himself, it's fucking excellent.
This one came up on a loungy, lazy Sunday, probably after a decent Arsenal performance the day before. I love the throwback sound, the French-German connections [sound like a certain manager we know?], and the fact that it quite easily incorporates the boozy la-la la-la la la repeat, as in "You Are My Arsenal."
In 2002 Dennis Bergkamp played a vital role in the run-in to
the title. Many will remember that
Newcastle goalbut his influence on creating goals for others was
crucial to winning the league that year, as the Gunners piled on 13 straight
wins in the home stretch to claim glory.
In December of that season, the Arsenal faced Juventus in
the Champions League. The lasting memory from that match is one of Bergkamp
dancing along the edge of the penalty area, ball glued to his foot, toying with
his defender. Freddie Ljungberg lies in wait only a few yards away, seemingly
as mesmerized by the Dutchman’s footwork as the Juventus players. In an instant
Dennis rolls the ball back, Freddie darts in, and the pass meets him in stride.
Goal.
Down at the Factory we've aired a few Cazorla chants [I have a couple corking Christmas ones that may show up at a later date] but haven't settled on one just yet. The Seven Nation Army one doesn't seem to have legs with our grumpy bunch, but we've done the Tuesday Club Chim Chim Cher-ee one with mixed success.
Recently, fellow NY Gooner John said he thought this tune would make a catchy Cazorla chant [probably after screening Cinderella with his kids], since his name fits so nicely in the meter of the first line. He set me the task of coming up with something but I didn't know the tune. Once I heard it the words happened almost instantly. You've got to talk about his two-footedness of course, and I copped the last line from the Tuesday Club. Fair warning, it can get stuck in your head. On the plus side of that, it's easy to sing over and over to the annoyance of any rivals nearby.
Not too long ago, @7amkickoff tweeted that someone should come up with a Giroud chant to this tune. Diseased as I am, I couldn't resist. I tweeted it back to him in two parts and several folks retweeted and commented back, so I started giving it the gas down at the Factory. Surprisingly TJ, who normally hates my stuff, rather enjoyed it. I've been toying with this Ridiculous Chants column idea for a while, so I figured I'd better launch it while the stars are aligned. Almost as soon as I posted it Jack chimed in with the line substituting Frenchman for future from the end of the song, and next thing you know I had another verse. Jack's dream is to get the hmmm hmmm hmmm's going down at the pub. Maybe this weekend. [edit: changed it to ooooh ooooh ooooh. Can't get much volume with the hmmm's]
[I Melt With You/Modern English] special mention to @7amkickoff for suggesting the tune for a Giroud chant
The Frenchman's open wide, he’s in acres of space Runs like an ostrich, but he’s got a chiseled face When he attacks, defenders crash around the place Never really knowing he was always....fucking ace Just knock the ball up to Giroud He started slowly but he's getting better all the time. He's more handsome than me and you, Just knock the ball up to Giroud.
I've been toying with this Ridiculous Chants column for a while, so when Jack Wilshere recently re-emerged on twitter during a particularly lully interlull, I figured I'd pull the trigger. I have a Jumping Jack Flash one as well, but this one's a little more fun, especially since Ed is particularly fond of busting out the "WHAT YOU SAY????!!!" line that keeps the chant going.
[Hit The Road Jack/Ray Charles]
Oh look at Jack Wilshere he’s quick and he’s mean
He’s the best midfielder, that we’ve ever seen.
There’s one thing that we know,
When he gets the ball the Arsenal go [that's right]
As 2011 came to a close there were more than whispers that
Thierry Henry would return to the club on loan, in a period when Arsenal
definitely needed freshening up. Just how much impact he might have was a
source of great speculation, with factions both for and against the move. To
pay homage to his second spell at the club I wanted to select a trademark
moment from our French master, perhaps optimistically wishing for a revival of
Henry’s vintage form.
Which to choose from so many? The volley versus United? The Charlton
backheel? The 227th goal [even if the 226th was way
nicer, and by the way how fitting that he would tie Ian Wright’s record then
surpass it in the very same match?], the full length pitch run versus
Tottenham? I decided on this goal, that played such a crucial role in Arsenal’s
crowning achievement.
"Yet Again Arsenal In A Matter Of Seconds Have Turned Defending Into Classic Counter Attack"
It is a well-worn tale that Arsene Wenger insisted upon the
signing of Patrick Vieira from AC Milan before he would put pen to paper on his
own contract to join the Arsenal. As much as Wenger was an unknown quantity, so
too was Vieira. It wouldn’t take long for either to justify themselves in the Premier
League. Vieira became the fulcrum around which Wenger weaved Arsenal’s
intricate passing game, combining the graft and guile with which to strip
opponents of the ball and immediately launch the Gunners into attack.
“There is not even a question over whether or not Arsenal's
midfield is in good hands. Jack will be the England captain inside the next two
or three years, you don't have to be a magician to work that one out… he's got
the capacity to dribble, to pass, he will go on to become a top player of the
future. There's not even a question about that.”*
These were Cesc Fabregas’ parting words
of comfort to Gooners, that just as with many great players before him, the club would cope with his departure. It remains debateable just how much Cesc’s
tenure with the club after Vieira left can be qualified as “coping,” but it is
fair to say we were in better shape when he inherited the mantle of talisman
than we are today.
The caption above is from a chapter
entitled "A Short Interview About Killing" in David Winners Brilliant
Orange: The
Neurotic Genius of Dutch Soccer." The quote is the conclusion of a
conversation between Dennis Bergkamp himself and the author, the by-product of
a chance encounter after an interview with someone else. Winner pressed the
Dutchman about the imbalance of his relatively low goals return with respect to
his outstanding ability as a striker.
