Not even the most even-tempered, moderate bloggers are staying the course. Many have given up the battle. Goonerholic's post today broke my heart. One can look to an objective perspective from him usually. And to see him finally admit a type of defeat helped break through my last brick of denial. We are not the team I thought we were. And where my last post hinted at needing only minor changes within the squad and team, I am now not so sure that is the case. If Arsenal's problem is psychological, then that points to a problem at the top. So either the way the manager and coaches deal psychologically with the squad (where the average age is 23) needs to change, or the manager needs to go.
There. I said it. I never thought I would but there you go...no grit.
I have to admit that watching Arsenal without Arsene at the helm is something that right now is unimaginable. I became a fan under the Wenger-era and hence do not have the reference point that many of you who have been fans for 30 + years do have. I have rooted for American sports teams that go through coaches almost as frequently as Inter or Chelsea (Cubs, Notre Dame football). I just have never gotten so attached to a manager before.
And if we were in fifth or sixth place and our boys were still fighting - leaving the pitch,sweaty, exhausted and grass-stained, I would walk around with my head high and my heart full of the moxie displayed by the players. But that is so often not the case these days that I am feeling lucky to live overseas where the only EPL non-Arsenal fan I will hear from is my Manure-loving cousin. Stoke fans taunting me with grunts? Don't have to worry about it. I am safely ensconced in Hoosier-land.
Still, I feel broken.
I would venture a guess that what I am going through is a reflection of the team's dissipation. What we saw on Sunday was the anti-thesis of the second-half fight we brandished in the first half of the season. Something about that Carling Cup Final disaster left a blight on our boys' psyche - and it lives on like a looped nightmare. The performances are as predictable as a teenage horror flick. Yelling at a soon to be victim on screen, "Don't go in that pitch-black room by yourself - you'll get off-ed" is the same as watching an unmarked opponent head (or chest or kick or ass) a ball into our net off a set piece. Skip the middle and get right to the end because I can't stomach the details anymore.
The last two games are playing while I'm at work. Normally, not getting to watch my beloved Arsenal (yes - I still love them) would cause quite the hullabaloo and fuss, but now I'm actually grateful for having to work weekends. It gifts me an excuse - a Get Out Of Arsenal Jail Free card which I will use with no sense of disgrace. I am - until the end of the season - a Gooner. But a grit-less one.
That's all for now. Until next time...
