Joe Mardon
I haven't written about The Arsenal for a while.
A summer’s break has been just that, and I've felt no desire to analyse the Cesc and Nasri situations on a daily basis, wondering what the smallest detail means to the overall picture. We did that last year and it was dull then. Talking about it, examining scenarios to death with 'what ifs' and 'maybes' means f***-all to the outcome. Either the player will go, or the player will stay. That's that. Dissect it when it's done.
I've never been to the Emirates Cup. One reason was quickly evident, as a Mexican wave spread. Ugh. The other reason was that, having spent over a grand on a season ticket, a day’s attendance at the club’s pre-season tournament could have been gifted. The £3m raised over the two days are three million reasons why it wasn’t.
It is important that the club remains accessible. This weekend, and the Carling Cup, are fantastic opportunities for the club to usher in the next generation of fans who otherwise might not have the chance.
So what does the eight-year-old attending his first Arsenal game with his old man yesterday take away in memory?
Boooooooooooooo.
I wasn't there, but I recognised the taste of negativity that is in danger of embedding itself at Ashburton. Its ingredients are six years of nothing on the back of six years of everything. Caviar and sausages, with a heapful of anger at price-rises and the perceived stubbornness of Arsène. It's hard to separate the end of last season from the verge of next, especially with the familiar stench of losing leads. But we have to.
There’s no point jumping to damnation now, before the expected comings and goings are announced and the squad is finalised. Booing is pantomime. It's embarrassing and it soured the return of King Henry, who himself must have been disappointed with the fans’ reaction to a pre-season draw.
As Andrew Allen tweeted: "We live in an X-Factor world. People can't do anything but boo and phone-vote. Cheers, Simon Cowell. You ruined football."
Perhaps the Arsenalisation of Ashburton could see each seat come with a 'Britain's Got Talent' buzzer, that tacky new crest embossed across it. It would cost, of course: self-sustaining, however. Buzzes replace boos, and each time a player who hasn't got the talent receives the ball 'Buzzzzzz'. 55,000 of them, and you're subbed. Off you go Eboué.
The team’s best performances at home last season came against the toughest opposition - Chelsea, Manchester United, Barcelona. Such opposition also results in the best atmosphere inside the ground. I've forgotten Spurs. Against lesser teams, some of the players didn't turn up, and neither did the fans - both expecting wins rather than thinking they have to contribute anything to achieve them.
Whilst the players have a duty to give the fans something to shout about, and are paid stupidly to do so, it is a two-way street. You are a supporter, not an expector (sic). Paying your money, even at our prices, doesn't entitle you to a four-nil win or the apparently-important Emirates Cup. You often hear fans of Northern clubs referred to as 'the twelfth man'. Imagine that at Arsenal! We could be that centre-half Arsène had better be looking for.
Our moans, our expectant quiet and our boos emit to the players and are counterproductive, especially if they are passed on to that eight-year-old and if his lasting impression of Sunday is of boos rather than Van Persie.
Don't write off the season just yet, eh? Maybe if we can leave behind the woes of last year the players might too.
Roll on the real stuff.
*Follow my Arsenal ramblings on Twitter @TheArsenal_
