Juan called me out the other day, and it's totally true: I've been nothing but a big fat dead carcass when it comes to this blog. I'm the Lucas to his Gerrard, the Diaby to his Fabregas. His shoulders should ache from carrying me on his back, and his lungs must hurt from all the disappointed sighs he must emit when he opens this blog and finds that SURPRISE! I have haven't added a single thing to it.
So let me go ahead and give the reasons why I've been absent, in no particular order.
1) I'm scared to jinx things. And by "things," I mean "Arsenal." Because I haven't felt this good about the team since the beginning of the 2007-2008 season. And before that (dare I say it?): 2004. I love the way they're playing: I love the swagger, I love the focus, I love how Vermaelen looks like evil Jude Law, I love the minimalist Fabregas goal-celebrations (taking a page out of Mr. Henry's book, of course, but then cutting loose for the one against Spurs, which I also love), I love Arsene trying to keep the team off everyone's radar, I love Gallas burying his crazy and performing like the world class defender he obviously thinks he is, I love the squad depth, and most of all, I love the football. Arsene says that soccer can be art, and if that's true, we're painting Picasso's on an almost weekly basis. So yeah, I didn't want to jinx any of that.
2) The Serie A is simply failing to capture my attention. In every single way. And maybe that's not fair, but let's see: Roma is pretty awful, Inter is winning the league despite not looking all that dominant, Juve are chasing, Fiorentina and Milan are in the mix. Are we sure they're not just rerunning last season and changing the names of the relegated teams for TV purposes? Juan, I'm relying on you to explain to me why I should care about a league that is falling behind the other two in the Big Three (and David Trezeguet's infectious smile after scoring goals is not a legitimate reason, though it is totally awesome). What (and who) should I be watching? Pato? Gilardino? Juve, after their big win over Atalanta? I need guidance here.
3) I'm waiting to see if Real Madrid's Galacticos will get worse. Because when they hit rock bottom (if this wasn't it, already), that's when I'll devote an entire page of this blog to my cackling, gleeful rants about how and why that team will never win anything.
4) The Pub. Instead of watching matches at home (or when I was employed, at work, but I'd never do that obviously) and then being able to immediately blog about it, I've been spending too much time at the Amsterdam Tavern. When I come home, fat and happy, full of donuts and Guinness (properly poured) for breakfast, all I want to do is take a nap. And when I wake, I've forgotten all the astute observations that I made about the games when I was watching. Things like "OHH WHY DIDN'T HE PASS THAT?" or "OHHHH! OHHHHH! THAT'S A F---ING AMAZING GOAL!" These are the kind of observations, yelled at a decibel level only reached with the assistance of alcohol, with bits of blueberry cake donut sputtering from my mouth, that make me such a respected and valued customer at the Amsterdam Tavern.
Yeah, that's about it. But to conclude: I will be posting more. I'm like Adebayor - just when you think you hate me and I'm worthless, I'll go on a phenomenal scoring run. (But inevitably, after I've convinced you that I'm a world class striker, I'll go back to being useless and in fact quite easy to hate.) Right.
Arsene Wenger cobbled together starting lineups with spit and duct tape and Denilson and somehow the team dragged its ass over the finish line in third or fourth.