Today the rest of the footballing world expects us to get our arses kicked when the Shadow mercenaries from Mount Catalonia at the edge of middle earth, attack our home, the phenomenally beautiful and ever peaceful Shire (Emirates stadium).
After our lackluster display over the weekend where we were unable to mount proper attacks — that our elite status as one of the most beautiful attacking teams to watch in the world demands — against the inferior Tigers from East Riding of Yorkshire, it isn’t at all difficult to see why the rest of Middle earth are so certain that we will fail in our one of many encounters against the Shadow mercenaries from Mount Catalonia.
If anything, most hobbits are quietly dreading the encounter, and given our history in this competition, and our history with this same evil, you can’t blame them.
Sitting in my hole after the game on Saturday, blowing white and red rings of smoke — some shaped like cannons — into the disappointment tinged air, I wondered how it was we were going to get through the attack that was coming with our pretty good-but small named defence and a midfield that’s hardly doing much to help the misfiring attack.
It occurred to me that while I was thinking of how my tribe was going to defend and attack against Blue and Red Riders aka Shadow mercenaries, on a Tuesday night, our other neighbours in the North were fretting over how they’ll handle trolls on a Thursday night — fair to say I shuddered at the thought.
A wise man once said, “while there is life, there is hope”. That same man — it’s usually the same wise man, we all know him — said “if you don’t believe you can do it, then you already failed without trying”.
And then it hit me.
This is my team, this is my home, and if we are going to war, regardless of who it is against, I will stand by them chanting and screaming to the top of my lungs, showing support to those who dare defend us, being that ubiquitous 12th man when it counts.
And if we are going to lose, if we are going to have our home desecrated, then the opponent better come at us with all they got because WE ARE THE ARSENAL and we are not going to cower at their names. F*CK THE MSN! F*CK BARCELONA! We move!
Some have said that believing that we can mount any kind of defence — or attack for that matter — against the Dark Catalonian Army aka Shadow mercenaries (call them whatever name you like) is like searching for Fool’s Gold, to them I say this “I AM ARSENAL, I’M NOT AFRAID TO BELIEVE”, then I add “Frodo was able to reach Mount Doom and destroy the ring against all odds, so who are you?”
If we make it out of Tuesday night’s battle with our chances of qualification intact, our fellowship will journey to Mount Catalonia — guided by Wenger the White, Giroud descendant of Aragorn, Ozil Baggins, Sanchez descendant of Gimli, Ramsey descendant of Legolas, and others — to destroy the evil within, and then go one step closer in our decade long quest to destroy the ring, the one ring that rules them all.