Boing Boing

Afternoon.

It's been a funny old week in Goonerdom. From the bleak disappointment of the last two weeks when literally everything that could go wrong did go wrong, we are somewhat buoyed by the return of a mental German and the hilarious news today that S***s have drawn Real Madrid in the quarter final of the Champions league. Beat them, which of course they will, and they'll probably have to play Barcelona is the semis. Yeah, I'm bitter, but it doesn't get any funnier than that.

Also, of humorous note, Man Utd and Chelsea will play each other in said (worthless) competition, thus rendering them both utterly useless in the closing stages and race to secure the Premier League title - leaving it well and truly open for us to drag ourselves kicking and screaming over the finish line in first place.

Or something.

Welcome back, Jens. You mad fucker. We've missed you, your stunning hair, your Fraulein melting good looks and your odd little foibles. Your penalty save against Villareal in the dying moments of the semi-final and your sending off against Barcelona in the opening ones of the final. For all your madness, you're loved - an Invincible, and no mistake, who knows what it takes to win. It ain't going to do any harm having him around the place is it? 

Well, helloooo

The fact that Almunia and him don't get on is no secret, but if it helps Manuel focus on his job and not flap around like a good'un, then it can only be a good thing.  

Tomorrow, we play West Bromwich Albion at the Hawthorns with a still weakened team. No Djourou, Song, Fabregas or Walcott. I'm presuming that we still have enough to beat them, and if the sound whipping they gave us at The Emirates (and it was sound) isn't enough to motivate the team, then I'm buggered if I know what is. They're five points off the bottom of the league and we're three off the top with a game in hand. There is a gulf in ability, as the twenty five points between us should indicate, but with this Arsenal team, fragile as it is, one never knows.

For what seems like the hundredth time, this is another mugantic game, and it's three points at all costs. I urge the players to go at it and stay going at it until the ninety fifth/sixth/seventh/eighth minute until the job is done. Anything less and we'll probably be looking at points dropped again, and the two weeks of unmitigated misery that we've all suffered will be stretched to a semi-suicidal third.

They'll be reading this blog - all the players do. Saucy Jack, when he went for some new 'ink' had 'Blarsenal Blarsenal' done all gothic like across his back, and Henri Lansbury had '@buxtongooner' done just above his pubic mound. Class.

So come on lads, we're more than in this, it's in our hands. Get up there, give the Baggies a good thrashing and all come home in one piece. 

If nothing else, it'll piss off Frank Skinner, who's a cunt.