Knowing three weeks beforehand that you are going to meet one of your heroes requires a certain taciturn approach. Which is difficult for me seeing as I effervesce to anyone whenever I’ve just had a particularly tasty Scotch Egg – nevermind coming face to face and interviewing someone who I revered from afar.
I held it together and grimly counted down the days until Ray Parlour Day. If you read the previous installment then you will be well aware that much hilarity ensued and a good time was had by all. The real substance though, the yolk of the egg ( why do I keep mentioning eggs? ), the jam in the Jammie Dodger though – is the interview with the man himself. Continue reading Ray Parlour Interview
My normal approach to blogging is somewhat akin to throwing darts at words that are written on scraps of paper and placed randomly on a dartboard. I’m then blindfolded. Then spun around 13 times until nausea kicks in. This story I’m about to tell you though, deserves better than my meandering prose. Those that are familiar will realise it is ironically just as much about missed chances as it is chances taken. Those that are not aware of this tale of glory and utter tragedy, like myself before last week, I hope to enrich your minds and raise awareness of a player that never got the opportunity to flower into the wonderful talent he so clearly evidenced. This is about the book ‘ Stuck in a Moment: The Ballad of Paul Vaessen ‘. Continue reading Paul Vaessen – Stuck In a Moment
Two matches attended in one week. Whilst my wallet has felt the pinch, every time you ascend the stairs and the pitch comes into view, the last thing on your mind is whether you have the spare £50 to buy your niece the latest useless piece of One Direction paraphernalia. No matter how often you’re exposed to the wonderful sight of The Emirates carpet and each stand as they rise to your eyeline, the impact is not dimmed. Continue reading Matchday Vs Southampton
I’ve been sans phone for a week. Phoneless. Without my sleek, metallic, personality-bereft friend. No bulky weight in my pocket ( easy ladies! ) to remind me of the exciting potential & window of wonder that is my mobile. It has been ridiculously tough. Why? I hear you cry in your sarcastic, I really-don’t-care, tone. Well, I’ll tell you. I’m a 20-a-day smoker. I used to be 6″4 before I started ( Zing! ), but seriously, I do enjoy a cigarette. I’ve found though, that the nicotine hit that is supplied by these small, pencil-sized cancer bringers is supplemented by my phone. Hold your equine-based creatures for an iota. Not for a second am I suggesting that phones are the harbingers of death, oh no, we let The Big Guy decide all that stuff. No, what I was trying to say, is that the feeling that is supplied by the cigarette & it’s combo of noxious chemicals is aided, boosted, by my phone in my hand. Continue reading Life without Arsenal
It would seem every decision that Arsene Wenger makes is being scrutinised more than a Bolivian coming through customs. Defensive tactics, team-sheets, training methods. Hell, if he were to champion the virtues of penicillin, there would be a smattering of naysayers who would outline the benefits of holistic healing rather than conventional medicine. At this present moment in time, for a large portion of Gooners he is the fulcrum of our problems this season.
You could say he has brought this upon himself. It wouldn’t be unduly negative to highlight our weakness facing counter-attacking opposition to showcase that some chinks in our armour haven’t been addressed. Cynicism though, is like bacteria. It spreads and affects all it touches. No one has been immune to this. Even the staunchest of Arsene aficionado’s have courted the dark side this season. Continue reading Chambers and The Ox
Picture the scene; I was ambling along my routine days path, sipping on a jug of gravy whilst ruminating on whether or not I could get away clean from a heist on Piebury Corner, when an unremarkable man clad in a trenchcoat and shades sat next to me. No words. I was startled but my needy nature meant I was more than pleased to finally have a companion to exchange opinions with and train my hamster army. The clandestine man put a briefcase on the table, the metal clasps snapping open efficiently. He removed a padded envelope with no markings on it whatsoever. It was at this time the enigma uttered his only words. ” The Red Fox only consumes the contents of a single wheelie bin “. With this, he closed the case, stood up sharply and left the scene abruptly, rendering me quizzical but also slightly sad that my potential Sargeant of the 1st Corps of Hamsters had gone. What might have been.
Continue reading Carl Jenkinson’s Diary
” Hi there, welcome to BLIND DATE!!!! Here is your host, Miss CILLA BLAAAAAACCCKKK!!! ”
” Awright chucks, it’s Cilla ‘ere! We’ve got a fantastic show for you tonight with a lorra laughs and hopefully a lorra love! First off though, let’s meet our contestant shall we? ”
Cilla, resplendent in gold sequin shellsuit, sashays over to the contestant who sits on a high pedestal chair. The audience whoop and clap in unison.
Continue reading Arsene Wenger’s Blind Date….
I’ve found it difficult to start this blog. I’m not writing about a certain player, or infuriating media bias or even emotionally fuelled nonsense, which is a speciality. The subject of this piece is something that a churlish, phlegmatic approach is not respectful enough, nay, wouldn’t be fit enough to lace Mickey Thomas’s boots. I need to don the white gloves, lower the harsh, fluorescent lights and type in hushed taps. This event deserves revered glances, the best seats in the house. If it were a celebrity it would undoubtedly have a ‘ An Audience With ‘ show on PrimeTime TV, the crowd filled with the Hoi-Palloi of acting talent. Continue reading Anfield ’89 – the Greatest of our Triumphs?
Each letter was scribed on the finest parchment. Despite being daubed using a fountain pen – not one accidental blot spoiled what was the most elegant of handwriting. Each letter had been placed in a thick sheath and had been delivered by hand in the wee hours. Every detail had been seen to. The invites were completed.
Now he waited…….. Continue reading A Classic Arsenal Whodunnit……
Dante Alighieri, the author and philosopher who penned ‘The Divine Comedy’, is quoted as saying ” There is no greater sorrow, than to recall a happy time when miserable “. Seeing as our beloved Arsenal are plunged in the depths of a currently mediocre season, a window to view more halcyon times may bring about more stormclouds. Jon Spurling’s book – Red Letter Days – however, dissipates any negativity as you become more engrossed by the page. Continue reading Red Letter Days by Jon Spurling – A Review