What a crazy week in prospect. West Ham ready to lose hopelessly to a superior Liverpool in the FA Cup final on Saturday while Wembley lies unfinished. Arsenal ready to lose hopelessly to a superior Barcelona in Paris on Wednesday while their best player, Thierry Henry, considers a future in Catalan stripes.
Ah, the final Sunday of the Premiership. Glorious spring. This year, sadly, there’s not that much to play for. Chelsea have romped off with the title, paying a mere £600-million for the privilege of becoming the second side ever to retain the Premiership. Sunderland have finished bottom by a record-breaking margin, even if they get something at Villa Park on Sunday.
Inhibition makes you small. If you don’t believe, that’s the worst thing. Go out and be yourself. Those were the choice extracts from Arsene Wenger’s little book of footballing philosophical phrases before he sent Arsenal out for their historic Champions League semifinal second leg at Villarreal’s tiny La Madrigal stadium.
Thank God for the FA Cup, for the chance to puncture the increasingly arrogant Jose Mourinho’s expensive bubble. On Saturday it’s the semifinals, where Liverpool can dislodge that cocky Chelsea sneer. The fascinating match-ups on Saturday are submerged beneath a growing feeling that Mourinho and the richer-than-royalty Roman Abramovich must be stopped.
When the Highbury stadium was built 93 years ago, few would have predicted a European farewell along the lines of Wednesday night’s 1-0 win over Villarreal. Amid the diving and the feigned injuries from the ”Yellow Submarine”, the star of the all-foreign north London outfit in maroon shirts was a man from Côte d’Ivoire, Kolo Touré, who scored the only goal as Arsenal fans began their long goodbye to the compact art-deco stadium.
Those with a memory longer than a goldfish will remember when the average Anyone-But-United football fan disliked Sir Alex Ferguson with a passion. They will recall a general disgust with the actions of the groany old Scotsman, who dispensed all too readily with the services of his Irish wolfhound, Roy Keane, last year.
Never has a side been more aptly nicknamed. Juventus, ”la vecchia signora” of Serie A, looked old and frail during the goalless draw against Arsenal at the Stadio Delle Alpi on Wednesday. Spent, past it, knackered. Eleven old ladies with blue rinses and dodgy hips might have caused the Gunners more problems.
The story of Paul Vaessen, hero of Arsenal’s 1980 victory over Juventus, is a warning to all young stars. You probably won’t remember Paul Vaessen. Not many people do. Like the Unknown Soldier, nobody even seems to know where he is buried after his death from drug abuse in 2001, aged just 39.
Cesc Fabregas, lured away from Barcelona where he was youth team captain at 15, finally came of age during the comprehensive 2-0 Champions League quarterfinal win over Juventus on Tuesday. Captain Thierry Henry, who made the first goal for Fabregas and scored the second himself off a pass from the young Spaniard, says: ”He is only 18 but he is old in the head.”
He was perhaps the finest centre-half never to play for England. The Geordie who was always destined to manage Newcastle United but turned them down in their hour of need. Steve Bruce: a career of broken dreams, broken promises and broken noses. And after Tuesday’s unacceptable 7-0 defeat against Liverpool, now the unwanted owner of a shattered reputation.