We're in with a shout

Please let us not get too deluded by some fine football by the Gunners. And please let’s not get carried away just yet just because we’re top of the pile right now. Because if Arsenal go on to win the league this season it will be the biggest miracle to happen in British football since five loaves, two fishes and ten goals fed a crowd of starving Scottish fans at the 1960 European Cup Final at Hampton Park.  It would be the longest against-the-odds achievement since 300 Spartans took on the might of the Persian Army who at the time were throwing megabucks at the middle eastern transfer market back in 400 and whatever it was BC. The odds of us winning the league are still massive, just ask the bookies.

Since the start of this season the odds, gods, bookies and every single pundit together with his dog have written us off. They wrote us off as inconsequential. They are still not with us, never have been and never will be. They don’t rate us. We are not worthy. Only mega bucks can win the league with a minimum squad of 24 full international regulars because let’s face it Financial Fair Play is as believable as the Loch Ness Monster, or Adrian Chiles to give it it’s full Latin name.

 

I’ll tell you how extreme it would be to see Arsenal finish as Premiership Champions: it would be far more likely for Prince Charles to be King Charles, Sepp Blatter to have resigned as FIFA supremo and Newcastle to have fulfilled Sugar’s tweet by drawing level with Arsenal before our season ends. 

Citeh have probably the strongest squad ever to be assembled in the history of English football’s financial skull-duggery. Their ridiculous financial backing by a supremely rich nation who so generously sponsor their own team is at the very least surreal. They don’t give a toss about developing players or slinging proven internationals into oblivion so how can they possibly fail and how can anyone compete? Especially so given their four killer front men. Tragically this is still the way English football is going, steamrollered by money men.

The Chavs we’re told have the greatest manager since pre-sliced bread and he’s certainly the greatest self-publicist since Brian Clough. I know this because their PR media stranglehold, a.k.a. Chav-Sky propaganda tells us this all the time. Added to which they have a squad that is the absolute pride of racists, nouveau footie fans, mega rich Russian Oligarchs and mobile phone abusers everywhere. No attempt at playing football will interfere with their non-historical club because their football  has become more tedious and boring than Stoke could ever dream of. And their manager has become a parody of a parody of parody. Only money can beat money.

 

Pool have the only squad who take a relaxing break each and every European week. Siestas are the European norm for a squad that carries more bite than a great white shark, a captain in need of sub-titles and no European commitments whatsoever other than to possibly view the European song contest at some point in the year. Having the world’s most obnoxious and in form forward is usually enough to win a title. I cite Manure 2012-13 as irrefutable evidence.

This season Manure will come back strongly, we know this because the Fergusmoan trained media jerks repeat this mantra endlessly. They have an even madder looking Jock in charge of injuring both Rooney and Van Persie this season whilst continuing to play their ageing Welsh midfield man who is now even older than one of Rooney’s playthings. All there new manager is missing is a blue nose, a team capable of contending for the title and a P45. They can’t fail we’re told because the pundits say they can’t fail.

Having blown a 100 million squid the Tiny Totts should be in contention to, at the very least, overtake their nearest and very dearest local rivals. But the Orient are still way too good for them. With Defoe out the door they now have no plan D once plans A, B & C fail. Laugh at them, that’s our job.

A battered old stadium, a battling old team and the loss of their most expensive Afro hairdo has not slowed down Everton’s tilt at the top. With the most likeable manager in the Premiership you can only wish them well. But actually I don’t because at the end of the day they’re still Scousers.

Should Arsenal have the temerity to pull this one off it will be a more outlandish win than when Greece in 2004, or Denmark in 1992 won the European Nations Cup. But I actually think we can.  We can, because as Greavsie said ‘it’s a funny old game’. But I don’t think we will because City have such a ridiculously strong squad where even the loss of Sergio Aguero, David Silva, Vincent Kompany or Ya Ya Toure appears to have gone unnoticed. As does the changing of their managers almost as often as that pile of dross from the wrong end of Seven Sisters Road.  Unfortunately they’re here to stay and look best suited for the long haul.

Right now we shouldn’t be in with a shout, but when I last looked at our team slowly leaving the field to rapturous applause after their latest victory they were very clearly just so up for it. As were all of us who stood and applauded instead of buggering off to get the first possible tube home. So no bragging please, no mouthing off, not too many high expectations please, but if enough of us really believe it’s possible then who knows? 

League trophies arrive when managers and coaches believe it is possible, when the players believe it is possible and when the fans know it is possible. Momentum and belief are everything. Right now there are I believe far more lunatics than just myself out there on the terraces who are willing this thing to happen.  

I’m not at all sure we can pull this little miracle off but may the best team in red shirts and white sleeves go on and do the biz. Because dreams are what it is all about.

Get in there Arsenal.