It’s a tremendous achievement that should be lauded by friend and foe alike. For a septuagenarian to manage the same professional football team for upwards of a quarter century is truly remarkable. I hope, fellow Gooners, that, like me, you’ll not be churlish, nor seek to carp, because this gracious gentleman has always eschewed opportunities to heap pressure on match officials in order to gain his team an undeserved edge. Moreover, his successful youth policy is there for all to bestow: nine first-teamers are academy graduates. Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for Crewe Alexandra’s Dario Gradi.

Last month we welcomed consecutively Sunderland, Stoke and Bolton to THOF. Each fielded an ex-Gooner (Larsson and Muamba) or ex-Spud (Crouch). We all knew they’d score, so how come we aren’t booking a luxurious cruise to escape the coming cold and snow after collecting on a treble that would have landed several hundred-to-one? The only surprise was that these oh-so-predictable goals cost neither points nor progress. At OT, returnees score own goals.

It’s always amusing to hear an ex-ManU player-turned-manager being interviewed after their current side has been on the wrong end of a controversial decision. I believe two things go through their minds: 1. I must remain popular with the set-up; after all, I may want to return one day, in some capacity, 2. If I say what I really think, that ManU get most decisions most of the time, I’ll be reminded that I was the beneficiary during my playing career before being asked how does it feel to be on the receiving end.

9-1-1, as we all know, is the emergency services’ number in The Land of the Free. More significantly, it’s Arsenal’s W-D-L record since our own state of emergency.

Cast your mind back twelve months; in fact, eleven will do. A post-Chrimbo home game against Chelsea awaited and I’d have happily settled for a draw as my Yuletide present. The old Indian sign that we’d long held over The Chavs had reversed. An Arsenal goal seemed a remote possibility, let alone victory; I’d long admired Petr Cech, a seemingly unbreachable barrier. In that 3-1 win our opener saw three Arsenal players vying to finish off the move. Now we visit The Bridge and squander two glorious chances at 0-0 yet still score five. Cech was nutmegged for the second (Santos), beaten at his near-post for the third (Theo), rounded with ease by RVP for the fourth, then palmed the ball into his onion bag for Robin’s hat-trick. Perhaps Issue 220 of The Gooner will be a somewhat less depressing read than the current offering.

Heading home Saturday evening after WBA, I text another attendee: “When Jack’s back, who gets dropped?” A case of great minds thinking alike or fools seldom differing? Take your pick, as he’d posited that very question to his niece during the game – or at least he introduces her as his niece.

Anyway, it’s now time for yet another international break; one that we really could do without, unlike the previous.