Well I looked out the window and the world is still here. Six month into Thierry Henry’s departure to Spain Arsenal have not, as predicted by some sage pundits, imploded and indeed seem to be handling his absence very nicely thank you.

Players come and players go. It’s as much a part of the football fabric as inconvenient kick offs and myopic punditry but to listen to some of the talking heads who fill our TV screens with their unimaginative twaddle you would believe that one player maketh the team and when he does one, well it’s the end of the world as we know it and we should whitewash the kitchen walls and hide under the table, patiently awaiting our doom.

What the media tend to forget of course in their quest for headlines is that most fans have seen it all before. The departure of a star player without who no one can survive is a headline that mirrors our obsession with celebrity. It seems at times the club badge takes second place to the person inside the shirt and for old buggers like me that view makes as much sense as standing on your head in a bar.

Thierry Henry was of course an absolute legend for the Arsenal but he was going to leave one day. It’s the norm and it’s something we have to accept. He goes, he moves on, we move on.

I remember when Liam Brady decided he wanted to leave. God I loved that guy - in a purely platonic way of course. He was the best player I have seen at Arsenal. One time I was Inter Railing round Europe and I was sitting by a Swiss lake idly glancing through an Italian sports paper when lo and behold I espied the following evening Brady’s Inter Milan were playing in a friendly in Genoa against Sampdoria. Of course I immediately changed my plans to head south to take in the game. It had been five years since I had seen the great man in the flesh and I relished the opportunity to do so again.

I met some Inter fans going to the stadium who thought I was a six pack short of a case but who cares. It was Liam Brady! Of course he returned to England with West Ham who we met days after we had won the Littlewoods Cup in 1987 and he got a rousing reception. He scored and the cheers turned to jeers but it was momentary.

The manner of his departure was accepted by all. At the start of his last season he made it clear he wanted to try his luck in Italy. He was open and up front about it and though we struggled to replace with the risible fee we received he went with our good wishes.

Not so Frank Stapleton. 27 years on and this classic centre forward is as reviled as Brady is revered. We have long memories us football fans and we are pathetically strong on trivia and grudges, just don’t ask us what we did last night.

Stapleton at that time was the best forward in the country bar none. Ten years earlier we had done the double but more recently had developed into a cup side with four finals in the previous three years. We were as likely to win the title then as Tottenham are now but it hurt being told that. Brady had gone and we were ok with him. Then Stapleton went and the gloves came off. He perhaps said some home truths about the club, things we knew deep down inside but wouldn’t admit to ourselves even in our innermost souls. He wanted glory and he thought he could get that glory at Old Trafford. We wanted £2 million, United paid 900,000 and that rankled. The best centre forward had been stolen from us and all we had to replace him was, um, Brian McDermott and Paul Vaessen (RIP).

Stapleton’s departure was the final straw. Our crowds dropped, our football was dire and I started going more regularly. It took a couple of years to get over the twin departures of Brady and Stapleton and when we did, with Woodcock and Nicholas, we finally had a goalscorer and a terrace hero but we were still not where we felt we should be. That was still a few years off.

In the 18 years between Stapleton leaving and Henry arriving a good many players have come and gone. Some legends, some perhaps best forgotten. But they have all played their role in the Arsenal story. You can be sure of one thing though. At some stage Cesc Fabregas will return to Spain. And when he does you just know what the headlines will be.

To read more of Jakarta Casual’s writing, his blog can be found here