Great Article mailed to me by a friend
I have had some horrific moments as an Arsenal fan. Being at the Nou Camp when Teddy Sheringham scored for Manchester United in the 1999 Champions League final would be right up there. Particularly as until that moment I had been quietly chanting 'There's only one Mario Basler' to myself after the Bayern Munich winger had given his team the lead in the sixth minute.
That god-awful Ryan Giggs goal against us in the FA Cup semi-final would be another; I don't know what was worse, Giggs beating our entire team with that jaw-dropping, fast-swerving, insanely determined run to smash it past David Seaman, or him then haring just as fast back up the other end, waving his shirt like a punk on acid and showing off the most hideous hairy chest since Burt Reynolds.
And, lest we ever forget, there was little Nayim from the halfway line in Paris. A shot I still see in sweaty, slow motion nightmares after a night drinking too many tequilas.
The clock is ticking: How long can Arsenal wait for Arsene Wenger's emphasis on youth to pay off?
But I don't think I really knew what horror was until last week. On Wednesday I sat in my hotel room in Dubai - I'm here making an ITV documentary - watching our farcical draw with Tottenham. And yesterday, I lay on the same sofa, seeing us get stuffed by Stoke in a performance of such amateurish ineptitude I wanted to throw my couscous at the TV screen.
The Spurs farrago was, frankly, pathetic. Everyone knows that when you're two goals up with five minutes left, you get to a corner flag as fast as is humanly possible, and waste every second you can. What you don't do is have a complete, collective, mental and physical defensive breakdown. It was worse than child's play. Even my three young sons would have made a better fist of it, though at 15, 11 and seven, they may be too old for the current Arsenal team.
The only saving grace was that most of the fickle Spurs fans had left the stadium long before they saved the match, so depriving themselves of the best laugh they've had since Tony Adams was jailed.
But they've still got every reason to be happy, because in Harry Redknapp, they've acquired the best English manager in the country. A razor-smart, passionate, cunning, brave and hilarious man who, until last Monday, was my favourite character in football. He will save Spurs from the drop and get them back to the mid-table mediocrity that they usually occupy.
The downside is that, from the moment he arrived in that Tottenham dugout, our previously cordial relationship is so, like, OVER.
Far more worrying for me is my romance with Arsene Wenger. Yes, he's the greatest manager we've had and, yes, he deserves every ounce of the love and affection lavished upon him by grateful Gooners.
But Arsenal have won nothing for three years and, as I've repeatedly said since the season started, that situation is not going to be rectified with this bunch of indisputably talented but also arrogant and lazy nappywearers. We'd already lost to Hull and Fulham before the Spurs fiasco. Now we've been humiliated by Stoke, too. And the team are disintegrating into a miserable mire of stupid sendings-off and self-defeating dressing-room squabbles.
Spurs fiasco: Arsenal players can hardly believe letting Tottenham snatch a point
You can blame the monkeys all you like but the buck stops with the organ-grinder. It's high time that the Arsenal board stopped dropping to their knees and doing their 'We are not worthy' hand movements every time Arsene walks past them and stick a polite but firm rocket up his backside.
The conversation should go something like this: 'Arsene, old chap, if it's not too much trouble, we'd really rather appreciate you acquiring a new central defence, goalkeeper, and midfield general of the Vieira/ Keane/Gerrard variety. All older than 26, and taller than 6ft 2in please. Here's the chequebook, go and get them in January. Oh, and while you're at it, find a proper bloody captain to make this feckless shower understand what wearing the Arsenal shirt really means.'
And if Wenger still stubbornly resists, insisting that his relentless youth-only policy will eventually work, then he should be equally firmly told that the Arsenal manager's job is not for life, however great your track record.
Or, as they would put it out here, the command should switch from 'Balli, balli, balli, Arsene!' ('Whatever you say, Arsene!') to, 'Maternier ghermez ahlieh, gorban' ('The red blindfold would be lovely, excellency').
Another great article, a must read for every man united fan:
Football: Realistic Strachan prepared for another onslaught | Football | The Observer
Ciao..
Kris
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More than any grit shown by Spurs, I think they've got an unlikely draw, and now an unlikely victory, due to sheer dumb luck. Of course, we should've finished better. We came close numerous times, and if we had converted even half our chances, it would've ended in a total rout.
very dubious record if you ask me 
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