Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin. Sometime in the early 90s, around the start of my adolescence, my old fella and I were walking down the street. Repeatedly, he flicked a foot in front of mine in an effort to trip me, and repeatedly I, at the peak of my school corridor game, stepped over and around his baitest of offerings. Then, when he was least expecting it, I extended my little toe more as a matter of principle than anything else, and was horrified to see him, a split-second later, prone on the pavement.
How to feel and who to blame for this unsettling state of affairs? On the one hand, my dad both started things and remained undeterred when they didn’t go as he intended, refusing to acknowledge that things had changed; if he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell himself, he needed telt. On the other hand, couldn’t I just have advised myself and let it ride? I owed him my life, my education and all the joy I ever had; surely he’d earned the right to do as he pleased?
This gripping, thought-provoking yarn is, by amazing coincidence, a watered-down allegory of what I imagine it’s like watching Arsenal these days. Arsène Wenger taught the club what good football felt like and brought a new dimension to the English game in the process – in particular, its greatest ever club rivalry. But beyond that, he conducted himself in a wry, intense and intelligent manner that made him easily lovable and which demanded respect. But here he now is – and I hesitate as I type this for it stings – absolutely done – demanding that those to whom he is everything put him on his arse because he refuses to accept that his time has passed. Grim.
Brighton, meanwhile, are doing just fine thankyouforasking. It’s true that this season, twelfth in the table means something slightly different to usual, but as Ryan Giggs would say, they’d’ve took it. Four points above the relegation zone is a decent place to be, and unbeaten in four, they’ll fancy themselves to grind out another home something or other this afternoon.
Kick-off: 1.30pm GMT
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