What is it about watching Nicolas Anelka that makes you realise exactly what it is we’re missing? I know he’s moody. I know his brothers make the Sopranos look like the Waltons, but I really couldn’t care less. Here’s a bloke who positively exudes menace on the pitch. Was I the only person at the Bolton game, who had his heart in his mouth, every time he got the ball? He makes everything look so easy and straightforward, particularly putting the ball in the net. He’s got great first touch, always finds himself in space, and is refreshingly direct. Can you imagine the number of goals he would rack up playing with Henry, in front of our midfield?

He’s everything our forwards aren’t. Have you ever seen Adebayor put away a one on one? There’s a saying in American basketball, which runs something along the lines, “If you can’t put the ball in the hoop, you can’t play the game.” The same rule applies. Non-scoring workhorses? What’s the point of them?

Of late, we’ve had the dubious pleasure of seeing Freddie playing up front. What? Hold on a minute. Here’s a bloke whose goals virtually dried up the day Dennis said his fond farewells and retired to deepest Hertfordshire. A man whose main strategy is to sit down on his arse, every time he tries to go past a player, and fails.

The Beast? Do me a favour. Much is made of his poor touch, but even more tellingly, he doesn’t even punch his weight. You don’t need to be built like a brick sh*thouse to be strong on the ball, otherwise all centre forwards would be built like that. If you don’t believe me, fish out old footage of Law and Best, whose combined weight, dripping wet, amounted to f*ck all, and notice how many times they got knocked over.

No, if Arsene knows as much as we like to think he does, why doesn’t he offload the dross we have up front and make a sneaky little bid for our old boy. He might have upset David Dein, but so what? He could upset me all he wanted, if he gave us 20 goals a season.