By now, you should have experienced enough fallout from the Fulham travesty to be screaming for Moyes’ head to be removed, covered in tar and placed next to that unlucky Stark fellow’s bonce on the ramparts of King’s Landing. A bit of sword-breathing, topless dragons and incestuous dwarf-action would serve as a very welcome distraction from the Afternoon of a Gazilbillion Ineffectual Crosses we all witnessed on Sunday, but who can afford a train ticket to Liverpool in this economy?
After the aforementioned debacle (always good to crowbar that word in whenever possible), a trip to Highbury would normally fill most fans with trepidation. Luckily, that Art Deco colosseum is now a dog park. Or a golf course. Or a quarry. I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve got all the information in the world at my fingertips, is it? My point is that we have to go to the Emirates. Which is thousands of miles away and you can’t even get a drink once you’re there. That wasn’t actually my point. My real point is that Arsenal appear to be the only team in the Premiership that still fear our broken band of misfits this season, and they’re also coming off the back of an absolute spanking at the hands of the most successful team that has an L4 postcode.
This means that we can probably take advantage of their shellshock with some solid wing-play and plenty of crossing to beat their shorter-than-average centre-halves. Failing that, we could try playing the ball on the floor, maybe even getting the triumvirate (another great word carelessly shoehorned in) of Rooney, Mata and RVP linking up for some liquid football. Like my commanding officer in ‘Nam used to say: “Liquid football equals goals, lads,” before he lost both arms and both legs hunting buffalo in Hoi An back in ’71. I don’t know why he stopped saying it after his mishap, he could still speak perfectly normally, but something had inexplicably driven him into a state of depression which led to our eventual mutiny two days later. The rest is history. Not history that you’ll read anywhere, so it’s probably for the best if you don’t try and look it up.
The other, and far more likely option, is that Arsenal will be looking for some sort of Chuck Norris-style revenge after their drubbing, and, luckily for them, it just so happens that it’s their old rivals from up the [look up name of London-Manchester motorway in road atlas] who are next on “the most unfair fixture list in the history of football”- D. Moyes, 2013/4.
Prediction: Hopefully Moyes has finally woken up to the fact that nothing is working on the wings, so will change tack. We all know he won’t, so I’m going for a cracking goal-fest of 3-2 to Arsenal, with goals from Thierry Henry, Charlie Nicholas and Kim Kardashian. United’s will be two Rafael headers off crosses from Phil Jones, and all the players will shake hands at the end and go off to enjoy various jellies and ice cream.
I realise that’s all a bit doom and gloom so I’d like to finish with a Smiths song that I’ve changed the lyrics to.
About the author: I seen some things, man.
With Arsenal’s inexorable decline now in full swing and United’s march on a 21st title a mere formality, there’s never been a better time to play the true blue gunner gooners. Indeed, coming off the back of such a crushing defeat, the fact that Arsene is still in a job – 81 crosses!? – whilst our David simply goes from strength to strength, can only make the coming fixture seem like a stroll in the park for United. So much so, it’s hardly worth discussing further; even their Gollum lookalike has nowt on our Dave (Moyes lends Smeagol a certain gravitas – Ozil just has big eyes).
So what to expect? With Wenger desperately clinging to the vain hope of 4th place and the Champions being in such devastating form – and they said our midfield wasnt up to it! – I expect a high tempo passing game, with players in their correct positions and scoring chance after chance in a dazzling display of creativity and adventure; Arsenal will probably just stick to playing hoofball – and I do feel bad flogging a dead horse – trying cross after inaccurate cross in the misguided hope that at some point Van Per…Giroud can maybe get a lucky touch to somehow score. And whilst it seems slightly unkind to mock the afflicted, with our back four, in the form they’re in, I just can’t see that as anything other than completely naive.
Prediction: This being the case, it’s very hard to see past a routine victory for a United team who’ve broken records wherever they’ve played this season, and I can only predict a 16-0 rout (Wayne scoring the first 8 and dedicating them to the fans he’s always loved) and Arsene collecting his P45.
Disclaimer: please excuse any poor grammar etc – I was pelted with rocks earlier this week (We had a powercut and I produced a torch…. the villagers did not like it) and received quite a serious blunt trauma to the head. No side effects so far.
With our proclivity to lose hope, I’m only listing positives…
*press play before reading on*
Okay, you can start reading the list when the vocal comes in. Wait. Okay, here it comes … no, wait, it’s coming up now… no, wait. Here it is … no. Okay, here it comes … no, wait, it’s coming up now… no, wait. Here it is … no. Okay, here it comes … no, wait, it’s coming up now… no, wait. Here it is … no. After this loop … no. Dum-dum-dum, oh yeah, I remember now, here it comes… no. After this loop … no. Dum-dum-dum, oh yeah, it’s a good loop this … Aaaand now, here it comes… no. Okay, just wait for the vocal and then proceed to the list…
1. Dying inside is not real dying.
As for Arsenal…
When they were buying Ozil I was in Madrid and the fans on the telly phone-ins were very happy to see him go because they thought he was a right ‘perezoso tal y por lo’. When I came back from Madrid I shared this information in the interests of making myself appear knowledgeable. I remind you of this now, not because I want to be able to tell you ‘I told you so’ when it all goes wrong, but because … oh no, wait, that is why I’m doing it.
Prediction: 1-2. Danny with his customary two, both cross-cum-shots. Not like that.